Friday, 12 September 2014

Trip to Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic in the Caribbean via Miami, Florida, USA

 Ever since my first trip to the Dominican Republic almost ten years ago, I have been meaning to go back and visit the rest of the island that I missed on my first visit.

 I almost got to visit it during my round the world tour in 2008 but of course things went a little off course once I reached Mexico and loved it all so much that I wanted to stay much longer than originally planned.

 So with my old boss offering my back a few months of serious work, and not having taken a proper overseas holiday in over two years I decided that enough was enough and so I agreed to the work and resolved to save up all my pennies and booked a two week stay over in various cities throughout the island.

 With it being both the capital city and major international airport hub for the island, my first official destination was Santo Domingo, but as luck would have it the flights that I booked required a change of planes and layover in Charlotte and Miami, Florida USA.

 Having never actually been to Miami, but having seen lots about it on various TV shows, I was keen to add a half day trip to my original plan on the outward journey but as it turned out this was actually a waste of time and it would have been much better to have simply brought with me a sleeping bag and found a quiet corner of the airport in which to rest up over night.

 But before I even got to leave the UK I had to check in and go through security at London Heathrow, a feat that should have posed my no real problem except that my airline has subbed out my seat to a different carrier and I had forgot that even if you are just passing through the U.S.A.  you still need a recent electronic visa waiver, which of course I hadn’t realised I needed and thus didn’t have.

 Thankfully though, experience had taught me to always arrive at an airport several hours early, and to travel as light as possible, and so it was but a few minutes effort to use my mobile phone’s internet facility to find the right place to pay online for a US visa waiver and then I was allowed to board the flight, made even easier by the fact that the flight was delayed by over an hour.

 The flight over was nothing special, with me spending the bulk of the time either sleep or watching repeats of marvel super hero movies, and it was only when I arrived in Charlotte that things began to take a turn for the worst as although all my paperwork was in order the immigration guard at my passport check point clearly didn’t like my face, and so he insisted he marked my form with a huge red cross which meant that I had to go through a complete secondary safety screening process – again even though I clearly had an onward flight that was already minutes from boarding due to the delay of our inbound flight.

 Being the only person singled out by the vindictive security guard, and being unable to pass through the priority fastlane on the outbound security check meant that once I made it to my gate with my hand luggage they had already closed the flight for boarding.

 Thankfully I must have looked very pathetic indeed, as the check in lady called direct to the captain and had a flight attendant open up again just for me, but one of the downsides with arriving this late meant that all the overhead luggage space had already been taken and so I needed to have my hand luggage placed deep in the bowels of the plane, despite having had to earlier dump a load of cosmetic bottles because I was over the carry on limit.

 Touchdown in Miami was a bit smoother, and with it being nearly 6pm meant that I felt sure I had a few hours of night to kill and so shared a taxi shuttle to downtown Miami in order to get to my overnight hotel.

 Underwhelmed is the word I would choose to describe my stay in Miami.

 Desire being in Downtown Miami, the hotel was a complete dump and massively overpriced regardless of the fact that it was a budget hotel.

 I have been in better looking broom closets, and nothing seemed to work whether it was the air conditioning, the television, the WiFi or the elevator.

 All the interior windows had metal mesh imbedded in them and with the gloomy layout and décor I could not over the fact that it felt like it was a converted police station that instead of being renovated just had all the wanted posters taken down.

 As part of my research for Miami I had spotted that the beach wasn’t too far away from my downtown hotel but also that there seemed to be quite a lot going on around the airport.

 What I failed to spot was that the airports metro train station was not part of the main building but connected to the visitor’s car park and car hire centre which was about 10 minutes away from the actual airport and surrounded by nothing except motor ways.

 With it being already dark at 6pm, too dark to visit and enjoy the beach for its own sake, I felt that I could either go for a walk to see what mischief I could get into or take a taxi to the beach front and take in a meal, a show or a movie.

 Sadly for me I chose option a, to go for a walk, and I soon discovered that going for a walk in Miami was a lot harder than it sounded.

 After wandering around for half an hour getting more and more lost, and not seeing anything that really grabbed my attention as being a place I wanted to go into, I found myself at a metro stop and so I thought I may as well take a metro back to the airport to at least practice my route for the morning.

 Big mistake.

 Arriving at the airport car park I completely missed the tiny sign telling me that the airport was another short overhead train shuttle away and so felt sure that if I would have to find it on foot.

 After almost two hours of walking in circles playing frogger with the Miami traffic and seeing nothing except dingy motels and the occasional sex shop I ended up back where I started, more confused than ever, but also with tired feet in need of a rest.

 I took a metro back to near where my hotel was and proceeded to get lost a third time in one night before staggering back into my hotel room, very tired, aching and regretting that my picket sized hotel room had only a shower but no bath tub.

 Waking up with a headache and hating every minute I was staying in Miami meant that I had zero desire to go and try out the beach early next morning, but instead I ignored the hotels dismal breakfast offering and just walked to the metro station and took myself off to the airport.

 By the time I had boarded my flight for the Dominican Republic I could have been mistaken for thinking that I was already there, as the place was more broken down and dismal than I would every have imagined and everyone I met spoke Spanish as their first language.

 The flight from Miami to Santo Domingo was a short one and I during the journey I temporarily befriended the passenger who sat next to me on the flight, a lovely larger than life American who had Dominican routes and was going to see where her family came from for her first time.

 It was a bit weird for me to give advice about the Dominican Republic to someone who hailed from there originally, but it was also nice and gave me a chance to practice a bit of my tour guide spiel.

 Sadly she was not paying enough attention to me, and so when we got to the security desk and I flashed my internet pre-bought tourist visa card she didn’t have one and had to go back to an earlier booth and purchase one for $10 before rejoining the queue.

 Our meeting ended a fraction earlier than anticipated when her friend who was going to be doing the driving for her arrived with two other friends, thus taking up all four spaces in the hire car, and thus I said farewell to my single service friend and took the first of many overpriced taxi fares and made my way to my hotel in the Colonial Zone.

 The location of my hotel was ideal for reaching the nearby shops, but for some reason many of the roads around the Colonial zone are one way and so it felt like my driver was driving round in ever decreasing circles before we finally made it to the hotel.

 Indeed the only reason why I feel that this was not a ploy to extort extra money from me was that fact that it was a standard fixed fare for anywhere in the zone and so with all this extra driving he was burning his fuel but not my cash.

 My hotel was cheap and quaint, and fairly well decorated but regrettably it was one of a handful of internal rooms that had no windows and the air conditioning unit was not working, only an overhead fan swirling stale warm air around the room.

 The heat of this climate and this enclosed room was far too much for me, and I spent most of the first night taking cold showers and then lying on my bed naked with the fan blowing cold air over me.

 Of course this was a mistake, and after the already dodgy air conditioning unit back in the Miami hotel, mixed with airplane air conditioning, so by the end of thefirst night I was feeling a little shaky and when I woke up the next morning I had already developed a chest infection that would stay with me for several months.

 As part of my planning for my trip here I had done my fair share of research, and managed to pick out a few semi decent hotels throughout the country with which I planned on staying at each for a few days as I travelAs part of my planning for my trip here I had done my fair share of research, and managed to pick out a few semi decent hotels throughout the country with which I planned on staying at each for a few days as I travelled around.

 I also still had contact with a couple of my old penpals who lived or were born here, but you can never have too many friends or friendly faces in a strange country and so a few weeks before I flew out I made a few new contacts up and down the country in the hope that I would never need to be alone for too long if I didn’t want to be.

 As it turned out I actually overdid this a touch and so there were a couple of people who I had made tentative plans to meet but as my holiday unfolded I had to regrettably skip out of meeting altogether.

 I will not relate every little detail of the next two weeks, it would be far too long and boring, but I will try and touch on a couple of the highlights of each city which I can probably do in a couple of pages.

 In the Colonial Zone of Santo Domingo I met up with a friend on my first morning there and we spent a lovely half day walking around a couple of large shopping malls, complete with taking a handful of Gua Gua.

 A Gua Gua is what the locals call a bus but is actually more like an old battered and beaten up old taxi, where the driver instead of taking on one passenger from point A to point B will drive in circuit or directional flow of traffic.

 The reason why the locals term them more like buses than standard taxi’s is that a Gua Gua will also make numerous stops, both collecting or depositing numerous passengers at will and will often have as many as six full adult passengers squeezed together like sardines at one time.

 I have no idea of the actual fare structure of a Gua Gua, though it was always in the pennies rather than pounds price bracket, but the way to attract one is to either wait to be propositioned by a driver standing idly by the side of the road or just as frequently wait for a passing driver to spot you and click his fingers his into the air out the side of the window.

 The malls, being the focus of money and finance, were often the best looking building for miles around and I could only puzzle at how any of the locals could afford to shop there, seeing as the local salary was so low and the prices here so high.

  But spend the little money they earn they do and especially in the food court which had all the usual fast food franchises.

 My friend picked out for us a rather dingy looking barbeque rib joint, dingy because the rear of the place had no lighting on, but thankfully we could order and eat our meals in the main halls seating area and they served up the biggest portion of meat I have ever seen on one plate.

 It was truly gargantuan and a single plateful could easily serve two, or a family of four if they don’t like their kids all that much.

 As it was I fought bravely and scoffed as much of the super delicious grub as I could, but in the end it was just too much even for my appetite, and so along with a tip the rest got left.

 After our meal and a trip to a couple of shops looking for shoes we took another Gua Gua back to my hotel where my friend and I said our fond farewells and hoped that perhaps if time allowed we would meet up again before she left for home.

 As this was still barely early evening, and I was certainly in no need of sleep for many hours yet I contacted another friend and asked if they wanted to meet up tonight, and was very pleased that they said yes.

 This friend was actually the cousin of one of my old friends from the Dominican Republic, and as luck would have it once I confirmed that I was free tonight she managed to get her cousin to meet up with me as well so it was going to be a full house.

 My friends place was at the edge of the city, but with it being an evening trip and a night time return trip I decided against attempting to take a Gua Gua and instead used the friendly private taxi driver whose business cards could be found both at reception and in my room.

 The benefit of a private taxi would be that for a modest charge he would drop you off where you wanted to go and either after a certain amount of hours or at a given time he would arrive once more to take you back to the hotel.

 It was a nice touch of mini luxury, and I did not mind the slight extra cost as I knew I would not be sharing it with anyone else and furthermore that with my friendly driver eagerly anticipating a double fare it was very unlikely that I would end up stranded anywhere at the end of the night and not be able to get back to my hotel.

 My friends place was an unexpected treat in the middle of an otherwise rough looking area, and her style of interior decorating and furniture was top notch.

 I felt that I had suddenly been transported into a boudoir hotel instead of just visiting a friends place, and when she cooked us all a huge fish with potatoes and vegetables I was in hogs heaven.

 To end the night my friends were not done and seemed incredibly keen to go to a nearby bar and a have a few drinks.

 The bar ended up being a place not all that far away, but apparently walking the streets is not a safe thing to do, but much like in Mexico, handing your keys off to a guy who was standing as both a car park security and parking maid was considered perfectly normal.

 A part of me wonders if car thieves in Latin America are treated with the same contempt and death sentence punishments when caught that horse rustler’s face during the heady days of the great Wild West.

 The drinks were affordable, the place was hopping with locals of both sexes and apart from the music being loud enough to wake the dead it seemed a great place to relax and unwind.

 The local latin ladies were all out in force shaking their booty for all they are worth, and judging from the way that the local guys were being drinks and getting phone numbers left and right, it appeared that this was more like a nightclub than a bar.

 We stayed for a couple of drinks but the volume was a bit too loud for our liking and so unless we all agreed on getting shit faced as quickly as possible there was no chance I was going to risk being the only white guy attempting to dance in a latin bar, and so we collected the car and drove back to my friends place.

 Once back in the land of the hearing enabled we said our goodbyes, and then just as predicted my friendly taxi driver was already patiently waiting outside to take me back to my hotel where my bed and yet another cold shower was calling me, a thrice daily occurrence in this heat.

 The next day was much more subdued and simple, as I wanted to have a day to myself to chill out and wander the local neighbourhood looking for food, souvenirs and perfect holiday photo opportunities.

 What I found was that my hotel was in a rather subdued area of the Colonial Zone, far away from any tour shops but there was a couple of restaurants and a surprising number of beauty salons that doubled up as massage parlours, but what they really are are nefarious tourist traps where the owners do everything they can to fleece anybody silly enough to allow themselves to be stopped by the street hawkers they plant all along the shopping high street.

 As I was unaware of all this as I was approached, and being a sucker for trying out massages in new cities that I have never been to, I allowed myself to be persuaded into trying as simple hour long massage with one of the girls standing idly by.

 The price agreed beforehand sounded reasonable and as I had it written down, plus only had with me enough money for that plus a tiny gratuity tip, I felt relaxed enough to go with the flow and let her start the massage.

 The con comes about halfway through the massage, and although I had never experienced anything like this before, the second it began I could tell right away and so began preparing myself for the inevitable confrontation long before the owner realised I was onto his game.

 The actual con was that half way through the hour my masseuse escorted me back into the main part of the salon, where miraculously a team of about 8 pretty young females appeared out of nowhere and pounced on me the second after I sat down in the waiting chair provided for me.

 In moment they team began to give me a full body beauty treatment, with a manicure, a pedicure, a colour dying my roots, a haircut and a shave, all without hesitation but more importantly all without my request, permission or approval.

 Then at the end of the hour the owner invited me into his back office and presented me with a bill for all the services I have been subjected to.

 Now some might try to argue that as I didn’t loudly protest or physically prevent them from giving me a full treatment that I was probably on shaky ground to try and refuse payment for any extra services received, but this argument falls flat when I add that during my treatment I had had plenty of time to look around and spot a full list of services clearly on display in the salons window, and the bill I was being presented for totalled more than double everything on the list, a list which included both a half hour and a full hours massage.

 So realising that I was being charged massively way over the odds I felt no desire to play fair with this particular con artist.

 I took out the little money I had that would cover the price of the massage, thrust a now empty wallet right in his face, threw the cash on the floor and then as I barged past him I declared in a loud voice that he could call the police for all I cared but I was not going to pay him another pesos, let alone the 600 dollars his bill converted to.

 Of course he tried to bluster, to haggle and to call out to me, but I was both out of immediately available cash and righteously angry by then and I presume he has applied this con enough times to realise that in this case he was never going to convince me to go to a cashpoint and withdraw extra money just to hand it over to him, so he had little choice but let me go.

 As it turned out this was the right thing to do, as a few days later I found out during my online review of the hotel that many of the guests who had stayed there thought that the immediate area around it was very rough and more than one was angered by getting collared into paying hundreds of dollars for similarly unrequested treatments.

 Rather than be too sympathetic, my view was that I was angry that anyone, tourist or otherwise, would fall for such an obvious trick, as the more the con men get away with it the more likely they are to try it again in the future.

 However other than this, a trip to a nearby Dominos Pizza and recording myself dancing in the rain, it was a pretty quiet day and I just concentrated on researching my next destination and trying to escape the enclosed heat of my room by hiding out in the outdoor smokers garden area as much as possible.

 My next day was the start of a few days in the city of Puerta Plata, a fairly sizeable city for the island on its North coast and popular for its water activities and the fact that it is very close to its own international airport.

 The journey from south to north Dominincan Republic can be made by many routes, the most expensive being a private hotel taxi which will set you back a cool 350 dollars, and the most inexpensive by far is the very comfortable intercity coaches that leave every 30 minutes at around 5 dollars.

 Indeed it cost almost as much for a five minute standard taxi journey to take me from my hotel in the centre of the colonial zone to the coach depot at the edge of the zone than it did for the 4 hour ride to reach Puerta Plata.

 Without any friends in Puerta Plata to meet, the next few days were always planned as just a chance to rest, relax and enjoy the sun, sand and sea that we don’t really have in the UK.

 Thus it was that I had booked into a hotel was barely three minutes away from Costambar Beach, and with its own private pool, tour desk and American style restaurant I knew that for the next few days I could do as little or as much as I liked and really just go with the flow.

 Of the various tours I partook in, I enjoyed the snorkelling and the catamaran cruise the most, followed by the half day horse riding and zip lining, then the guided teleferico trip up a nearby mountain less due to the view being totally obscured by clouds and the very deliberately mis-advertised 12 waterfalls the least.

 I had never been zip lining before, but I found that once I tested out and could trust the gear and the wires I could enjoy it more than I thought, despite being slightly afraid of heights.

 I have now tried snorkelling a number of times, and each time I am getting better and more relaxed in the water, plus I now know how to keep myself from dehydrating and drying my mouth out during a swim which makes a small but noticeable difference.

 I am personally coming round to the idea that teleferico rides are highly overrated as they almost always end up so high up a mountain that regardless of how clear and perfect the weather may be at ground level, by the time you climb to those kinds of altitudes you seem virtually guaranteed to hit clouds and thus are able to see little more than a few feet in front of your face.

 Now this in itself is nothing all that surprising, but I will include here a little more about it purely because of the people I met and how it ended.

 It started with my the organised tour being nothing more than my hotel calling up a local taxi driver to take me on a return journey to the base of the teleferico station.

 Then I was met by an English speaking tour guide who collared me the moment I was out of the taxi and because he reliably informed me that the teleferico company do not have their own tour operators I felt almost obliged to be in his party.

 A party of one it turned out, as the two Russian ladies who he was standing beside him had actually turned him down moments before I arrived.

 So anyway, we go up the teleferico and take turns in photographing each other and then at the top the two ladies go one way and the tour guide leads me another.

 As previously hinted, the cloud cover at the top of the mountain was such that all panoramic views had been obscured halfway up and at the top we could barely see each other let alone the vast surrounding countryside.

 After saying very pointless things like, and down there is your hotel, my guide switched tact and started pointing at all the local plants and informing me all about them.

 It would have been much more impressive if my mother did not have most of them already in her own back garden, and in the end I was telling him as much about the UK as he was about the Caribbean.

 Towards the end of our walk through the mist I spotted the two Russian ladies again and we shared a coffee and a chat in the restaurant at the top, put there solely for hungry tourists who had not thought to bring a packed lunch with them, which might have explained the higher than average prices.

 After waving goodbye to the ladies I walked back to the top of the teleferico with my guide in tow and with a bunch of super-sized American tourists we shared the cable car lift back down to the base.

 At the bottom my guide hinted at wanting a tip, and feeling that it was all a waste of time I tried to palm him off by saying that I didn’t have any cash with me, to which he replied not to worry I can give it to the driver to give to him.

 I thought this sounded half reasonable, when I noticed that he hopped on his little scooter and was contemplating following us in order to get his tip, and knowing that I wasn’t going to be giving him a huge tip I thought it would be unfair to let him ride all the way back to my hotel for as little as 5 dollars.

 For note the entire teleferico ride only cost 3 dollars, and I was only giving him anything at all our of pity, when I would have much preferred to have just spent the entire time with the two Russian ladies and to hell with a professional guide.

 So before we drove away I routed through my wallet and ignoring the 10, 20, 50 and 100 pesos note I plucked my last 200 note from my wallet and handed it over to him, however instead of being grateful for the charity I was offering him considering his tour had been a washout he just stood there looking at it and said, “this isn’t a very big tip!”.

 Why on earth he felt that he deserved a big tip was beyond me, but as I was already in the taxi I just left the note hang in the air until he realised I was not about to go back into my wallet for anything bigger and then he finally took it.

 Considering the average daily wage of something from the Dominican Republic was less than 3 dollars I felt quite miffed that my generosity was snubbed like that, and I made sure that when I got back to the hotel I politely informed the manager that the ride was not only a waste of time but to warn other guests not to bother with the guided tour.

 Also as complete chance would dictate, a few days later when I was heading back down south from Puerta Plata I found that I was sitting next to the two Russian ladies that I had met on the mountain, and as it is a very long coach journey we were firm friends by the time we all arrived at the other end.

 We have added each other on facebook and have promised to keep in touch with each other from time to time.

 But my all time least favourite trip was the waterfalls experience.

 Viewing the natural waterfalls were the obvious exception to an otherwise good time, and it was completely due to their inability to provide sufficient information to the hotels and tour companies that advertise and sell the trip to tourists.

 The trip was described as being a walk through the forest to see 12 natural waterfalls, and myself being a lover of both a great waterfalls and great photo opportunities I jumped at the chance to see them, but although there were 12 waterfalls and you could take photos, this was no leisurely walk through the forest but an extreme natural waterfall slide experience where at the beginning you are requested to slip on a life jacket and waterproof crocs and then follow a guide to the first of several plunges.

 Now, if that was how it was being advertised at then I would have been very happy, but at the same time I would have brought along a towel, a change of clothes and left my non water-proof camera back in my hotel, but as it was I had nothing to change into, nothing to protect my camera with, had not brought my wallet with me ( having paid for the entire trip in advance ) and did not wish to strip down almost naked and leave all my stuff with them and go off into the jungle.

 So, after many minutes of convincing them that I did not want to be given a life vest as all I wanted to do was to walk around the reserve and take photos of all the falls from a safe distance, I was split up from the rest of the group who went one way and had my own guide take me round the other way.

 Or so I thought.

 What actually happened was we spend fifteen minutes hiking through the jungle to reach waterfall number twelve and then waited for well over an hour for the rest of the group to appear.

 Not that the park was all that big, but they were not viewing the water falls but actually riding down the miniature waterfalls like a waterpark amusement attraction and the delay was because they were spending ages ensuring that everyone was being photographed doing so.

 Adding insult to injury after about twenty minutes my guide said he was going to catch up with the others and find out what the delay was, and that I should just sit tight and wait for them.

 That’s right, for an hour I was left alone to sit on a toadstool at the edge of a small waterfall in the middle of a jungle, being eaten alive my mosquitos, while my tour guide left me to help the rest of the group take photos of each other getting wet.

 And the final insult, that again as we walked back to the small pickup truck that had brought us my guide, the same one who did nothing more than walk me into the jungle and then left me there as he was bored, strongly hinted that the salary he was being paid was not a large one and that he would appreciate any tip that I felt he deserved.

 Well I was far too polite to give him the tip I felt he fully deserved, so instead I just stormed back to the truck and sat there fuming while the others began to climb onboard and drip dry all around me.

 The snorkelling trips were much better, with a full complement of tourists packing out the catamarans cabin and top deck, and the spots where the crew took us to were breath taking in both their own beauty and for the fabulous array of fish and coral all around us.

 In typical developing Caribbean style the advertising was quite off target though as the advertised paradise island was no more than a 200 foot long sandbar, the expert divers were more interested in flirting with the female tourists than in our overall safety, and the food huts on paradise island were tied together with frayed rope and needed daily hammering to repair and replace lost boards, but as these were all very minor things to quibble over I put these down to Caribbean quaintness and just enjoying the sun and the snorkelling.

 After almost a week of relaxing on my own it was time to head back down south, back to Santo Domingo as during my time in Puerta Plata I had somehow managed to lose touch with my friend in Santiago de los Caballeros, and according to the internet it is a small city with not much to look at and all its internet advertised tours actually took place in either Puerta Plata or Santo Domingo anyway, thus not worth staying in for its own reason.

 Luckily I was able to call ahead and another friend from Santo Domingo who I had not yet met up with said that she was free all week and so could meet up a few days earlier if I so wished.

 Well, I had had enough of adventure activities, demanding tour guides and rustic charm, so a couple of days in a luxury hotel followed by a couple more in a relaxing all inclusive beach resort near the airport sounded like pure heaven.

 Slightly disappointing for me was that by the time I arrived back in Santo Domingo my slightly cough had developed into quite a heavy chest infection, and so one of the first things that I asked my friend to help me with was to find a chemist and get some medicine.

 For two days me and my friend stayed in the Marriott courtyard hotel, which may have been a five star business hotel to them, but to me it was a very over inflated hotel with a rubbish restaurant, bad view and porters who gave me such dirty looks throughout my stay that I wasn’t sure if they objected to me being friends with a local or if they thought I had hired myself a young hooker to take advantage of for the duration of my stay.

 Whatever it was it didn’t seem to bother my friend at all, but I felt decidedly uncomfortable with their constant dagger looks.

 The next three days were much better as we left behind the city and made our way out to the beach resort in the nearby Juan Dolio, and once again the journey was worth a brief mention.

 To start with, as we were leaving the Marriott we had to check out and ahead of us at reception were a couple of slim, pretty young American tourists, both coming from rich parents if their large suitcases were anything to go by, and didn’t speak a word of Spanish.

 But what really made me laugh was that after spending the night here in a luxury five star hotel they thought it would be a clever idea to try and save a few bucks by catching a bus into the centre of town to meet a friend.

 Of course they had no idea that a bus was actually a Gua Gua, nor how to find one, but on overhearing the receptionist inform them to go and stand on the opposite side of the road and hold their thumb out in the direction they wanted to go, along with their two large suitcases, I could just tell that it was an incredibly bad idea and yet again felt that some people were just too ignorant to go travelling by themselves.

 The other part of the story was that after my friend failed dismally to get her favoured local taxi driver to take us all the way to Juan Dolio, and not wanting to subject us to risking a series of Gua Gua rides, we allowed the hotel to recommend a budget taxi driver to take us.

 Well it started off ok, although it was a longer journey than we expected and as well as having to pay the standard taxi fare for a journey I was also prompted to pay extra for the toll booths along the motorway, which although not much was still a bit cheeky in my book.

 Then what was more unexpected was that half way along the motorway the engine conked out due to lack of petrol, which also meant no air-conditioning.

 With my friend being super calm beside me in the taxi I couldn’t really flip out but I was more than a little miffed that a driver the hotel had organised had undertook a journey he must have known he didn’t have enough petrol for.

 With me also passing out due to the external heat plus all the clothes I had foolishly chosen to prefer wearing instead of repacking for what I assumed would be a simple taxi journey, my patience was wearing thin and so when I was also asked to pay a friendly passing motorcyclist to go to the nearest petrol station and bring us back some fuel in an old 2 litre cola bottle, I did so in growing desperation and annoyance.

 This annoyance reached its absolute peak after a further fifteen minutes when, despite virtually curb crawling the length of the road our hotel was meant to be on and asking every passer-by we came across, we had failed equally miserably in finding our given destination.

 So before I strangled both my friend and the driver in sheer frustration I began insisting in ever increasing tones until they both got the message that I was done being cooked in a metal car for the day and that I strongly suggest that we should stop at the next building that even remotely looked like a hotel or resort and attempt to stay there instead if at all possible.

 As it turned out the very next one we came across was a very nice middle of the range all inclusive hotel complex that catered for all sorts of guests, had everything you could hope for in such a resort including several different restaurants, in house nightclub, casino, several swimming pools and lovely great rooms with their own private balconies.

 Indeed the only two tiny things that could have been better was to have requested a room further away from the in house nightclub, as opposed to being directly above it as we ended up, and that the in house WiFi was free.

 However as it was affordable, and none of the staff so much as battered as eye lid at me checking in with my friend, thus it was head and shoulders better than any other hotel I had stayed in for a long time, certainly the best here in the Dominican Republic.

 The next couple of days were spent doing all the usual things, but mainly eating, drinking, lazing about in or by the main outdoor swimming pool and one trip to the casino which turned out to have more staff than clients and thus we barely stayed long enough to see what was happening, or rather what wasn’t, before we headed back out again.

 With just a couple of days left before a very early flight out again from Santo Domingo I decided that it might be wisest and cheaper if we spent our last two nights in the town of Boca Chica as it was a tourist area that would barely have been any closer to the airport if it had been situated adjacent to one the runways.

 With hindsight it may have been closer and cheaper, but in every other aspect it was totally the wrong option and there are very few things in my life that if I could go back and change I would be 100% positive that I would do so, but even as a bad learning experience I think that Boca Chica has nothing what so ever to offer anything to anyone.

 Well almost, as I soon found to my dismay, as the neighbouring room was being rented by two scruffy looking American stoners who did little else but smoke weed and call our for local girls to hook them up for a little something something, if you know what I mean.

 For a moment I thought that it would upset my friend, but when I mentioned it to her she simply shrugged and said that this was what Boca Chica was infamous for, and was why she gave me a funny / quizzical look when I first informed her that I had booked a hotel here in the first place.

 With both my increasingly persistent cough, the rain and Boca Chica having nothing really worth leaving the hotel for, it was by and large a quiet couple of days and nights where we did as little as possible until it came to the final night where we packed up and requested a taxi take us to the airport first thing in the morning.

 The morning of my flight back to the UK I said goodbye to my friend at the airport, enjoyed the first proper American style breakfast in the airport lounge while I waited for my check in and board, and then without much incident of note I touched down in London once more via Miami and Charlotte almost a full day later.


Monday, 23 September 2013

A Trip to Edinburgh in August 2013

Day 0

Suesan, her son Saul and I filled the car up with fuel, bought plenty of drinks and snacks for the journey and so that we could have an early start, and because her house is at the end of a very quiet street, we packed up the car late the night before and had an early night.

Day 1

Using my android mobile phone as a sat-nav we drove about 130 miles north to Whitely Bay, which is just East of central Newcastle-upon-Tyne. The traffic was heavy and static for the first hour or so, but once we cleared that we flew the rest of the way.

We had planned to visit St Mary’s lighthouse and museum, but what we had failed to notice was that it was only open to the public for a few hours as the road out to the lighthouse was only accessible at low tide.

Being unable to visit the lighthouse we instead did some beach combing and then visited the Blue Reef Aquatic Centre where we took plenty of pictures and stayed until we had seen the feeding of the Seals.

After the aquatic centre we drove the last few miles to our overnight lodgings in Newcastle, as I felt that Suesan would be more refreshed and able to enjoy herself if we broke up the almost 300 mile journey from Lincoln to Edinburgh at a sensible midway point.

The hotel I had chosen for us was a Holiday Inn on the main road north, and was fairly comfortable though in the room price it did not include a breakfast or use of the hotels Wi-Fi.

The hotels masseuses were also fully booked up and the spa itself closed at 8pm, and so we just retired to our room for the night and ate the rest of our picnic that we had brought with us.

Day 2

After a rather bland and tasteless breakfast we set off early and thankfully we made good time and progress up through Northern England and cross over the border in to Scotland without event or fanfare.

Because the road app that I had installed was still new to both Suesan and myself, we got a bit lost right at the last and by a total fluke ended up stopping at a café to ask for directions literally 30 seconds away from our guesthouse, which was a coincidence as we had planned to pit stop in the city centre and pick up our bus passes for the week.

After sampling some wonderful tea, scones and Scottish customer service, we checked into our guest house, parked up, unpacked the car and chose who was having which bed.

Suesan’s son Saul, having spotted a trampoline out back, was a bit disappointed to hear that it was off limits until it was fully repaired and cleaned, but apart from that the place was just as we imagined it from the website images.

We didn’t have long before the first itinerated event of Edinburgh began, so with a bus stop literally across the road from our guesthouse, we hopped on a bus that took us to the city centre and then again almost by accident on the way we passed the main bus terminal where we paused in order to collect our photo ID bus passes.

With there being no time saved by taking a bus the rest of the way to our venue, we carried on and soon found ourselves at the Edinburgh Fringe Comedy Festival, where we collected our prepaid entrance tickets and then after grabbing a drink queued up for ‘I Need A Doctor : an unauthorised Whosical’.

The show was a mixed sex double act of locals who for an hour entertained us with some very home-made cardboard cut-out costumes, home made lyrics and a few bad puns and jokes based on the modern BBC show Doctor Who.

It was very enthusiastically and energetically performed, but not exactly world class, but I was glad that I had booked it for us, and Suesan and Saul loved it and played along which made the experience all the more enjoyable.

After this we had a few hours to kill before the Royal Military Tattoo performance started we chose to take a walk through the National Museum until it closed.

With only a couple of hours before it closed we knew that we were not going to be able to see everything, but the layout was very confusing and try as we might we could not find stairs or elevators that would take us to have the floors that were mean to house the educational sections.

We quickly decided that the best way to tackle the museum was to go to the very top and work our way down, which we proceeded to do after taking some aerial shots of the city rooftops and spotting a rather bizarre giant inflated upturned purple cow, udders and all!

We did manage to buy a few souveniers and hung around the various interactive displays until the guards almost had to drag us out of there kicking and screaming.

Being already so close to Edinburgh Castle we still had some time left to kill which we used to go grab a bite to eat, and in doing so we stumbled upon a very friendly group of locals who for some reason didn’t object to us interrupting their meal with questions and before I could blink we were a table of seven instead of two tables of four and three.

I think that had we and our new friends not both had prior engagements we probably would have moved on to a bar and stayed with each other for the remainder of the night, but they had a Fringe Festival show at 7pm and the Tattoo performance started at 7:30pm, thus it was with an effort that we said goodbye to our new friends and left.

The entire entrance to the castle was packed with the audience of the Tattoo, which forced us to have to snake around several buildings in order to join the back of the queue. Very fortunately our tickets were in the third row from the front, right at ground level, and so we were very close to the performers and able to see much of the detail on the various costumes on display.

I have never been a huge fan of the traditional bagpipe players, but when you are there in the Medieval Castle steeped in all its culture and history, and then you are faced with an entire troupe of pitch perfect pipers, all preconceptions fly away and I was en-wrapped from beginning to end.

There were so many performance segments that it was hard to pick a favourite, but I would have to say that the motorcyclists were amazing, the New Zealanders with their backward criss-cross marching was breath taking and the Spanish, Korean and Mongolian dancers all added a very international flavour to the even.
After the Tattoo it was past 10pm, so with most of the shops now closed all we could do was walk back to a bus stop and catch a night bus that once again stopped right outside our guest house.

Day 3

After a full night’s sleep and a very full continental breakfast that was only missing a haggis for including everything you could imagine, we hopped on a bus and planned on a long and steady trek up the extinct volcano Arthurs Seat, that we had been reliably informed would take us most of the day.

The bus threated itself around and through Edinburgh city centre and right before we got off we could see that we were in a slightly more rundown part of the city. Not that it mattered all that much, as within moments we were clear of roads and traffic and facing the elements.

For some reason that Suesan had not told me before hand, she and Saul had decided to race each other up to the top and instead of taking the slow and leisurely walk to the rear of the mountain and pass the idyllic lake they started scrambling up the rocky slope of the steepest face.

Not to be outdone, even though I was carrying the food and drinks, I had to follow them but it was tiring work and we did have to stop a couple of times to catch our breaths and pause for refreshments.

Just below the peak there is a small plateau and it was here that Suesan’s knees started to give out, and not wanting to risk serious damage, and knowing that we still had a full week of going up and down some fairly steep roads and streets, I happily passed on the final push to the very top and settled back to let me feet rest for a few minutes and to take some scenic photographs.

As we had pushed ourselves hard, we had cut short a 2 hour trek down to a little over half an hour, and so as we were already up and had finished out packed lunch as well, we felt that we might as well make best use of our time by returning back to the city centre and trying to fit in some sightseeing and gift shopping before our next itinerated event that was still at least six hours away.

So, making our way via a different and more stepped route back down, we made our way to the Palace at Hollyrood House and began taking in the historic Royal Mile and all its shops, museums and the Parliament building which was rather puzzlingly not open to the general public!

Midway up the mile we literally stumbled upon another Museum, and so thinking that it could not be that big inside we went in and investigated. It was very much like the Tardis, in that it was much much bigger on the inside that the outside, and almost two hours later we emerged and had to make our way to the other main Fringe Festival location.

Following the map and common sense we thought that it were going to the purple upturned cow that we had spotted the day before, but it turned out that the entrance was just behind it and inside a main venue.

We were booked into see the Cambridge Footlights show Canada, the footlights being the traditional breaking ground for so many British comedians that it would be easier to name a British comedian that DIDN’T start off there instead of reeling off all those that did.

Sadly the queue for this place was huge and rather foolishly believing that the venues hearing aid loop system would be working we sat at the back to get the best view and instantly found that the system wasn’t working and thus poor Suesan could not hear a single word.

With Suesan getting bored before the intermission, she decided to go out into the main bar and just have a few drinks, while Saul and I remained is for the second part of the show. There were quite a few clever jokes thrown in the script, along with several bits that were silly or daft, and I can see that with a bit of work and some encouragement it was entirely possible that we were witnessing future comedic stars in the making.

On our way out Suesan stuck in a little note in the theatres suggestion box to say “please get your t-loop system fixed” but as it was the last day of the festival it was unlikely that they would bother getting round to it this year.

With still a few hours of daylight left, we did some more kilt and souvenir shopping, stopped off at another restaurant and then caught a late night bus back to our hotel.

Just as the bus was pulling away Suesan suddenly realised that she had left her purse on the bus, and so what followed next was an hour of us stopping every bus that came past the guesthouse trying to find out if they could get in touch with the driver of the bus and not have it handed in to the lost property office which would not be open to the public until the following Tuesday for collection.

Mercifully the route of the original bus driver took his back past the guesthouse in the opposite direction, and he recognised Suesan instantly and so with huge sighs of relief we belatedly got back to our room and fell almost instantly asleep.

Day 4

One of the reasons why we had chosen Edinburgh to visit was because it according to the internet it had some great sites for fossil hunting, and with Suesan and Saul both being budding palaeontologists, it seemed to all fit in.

Thus it was that this morning, after a smallish but late breakfast, that we piled into the car, fed the co-ordinations into my sat-nav and headed on over to the Queensferry Bridge in order to do some fossil hunting on the beach at its base.

When we reached the beach we found that it was at mid-tide and so asking some locals whether it was coming in or out, we were bemused to be told that the tide was coming in only to find the exact opposite was true.

For a couple of hours we sat on the beach hitting rocks with our small hammers, but despite our best efforts we failed to find any actual fossil remains,  though there were shells and interesting rocks aplenty.

Next up on the agenda was a trip to the Bo’Ness steam railway station a few miles further East of Edinburgh, but here my trusty sat-nav let me down by directing us to a small cul-de-sac that was close to the train station but not actually close enough.

At the station we found that as we had not booked in advance, we were unable to purchase first class tickets or the on-train tea and scones, so we improvised and bought everything in the station café just around the corner and took it on board with us anyway.

Saul, being the inquisitive soul that he is, asked if he was allowed to climb on the actual engine carriage and to my surprise the driver said yes, even letting him shovel in a few small loads of coal in to the engines furnace for good measure.

So, while Saul was happy nosing around the engine, Suesan and I sat in the standard carriages and consumed vast quantities of tea and scones, with cream, real butter and thick strawberry jelly topping.
Although the train did stop at a couple of actual stations, because we had arrived an hour later than planned, we really didn’t have enough time to hop on and catch the next train and so we stayed on the steam train to the end of its ten or so mile route, turn around and then caught it back again.

Whilst the train was stopping off Suesan spotted some wild strawberry plants growing thick and abundant by the trackside, and being the nature lover that she was, she liberated herself a couple of healthy looking root strands that would probably survive the journey back down south.

On board the train Saul met and befriended another kid who lived in Leeds, and so once we were all back at Bo’Ness station the two lads ran on ahead together to investigated the steam train museum while Suesan and I followed behind at a much more leisurely pace.

Not for the first time, we were the last out of an Edinburgh Museum and politely ushered out by the museum curators, after which we climbed back into our car and made our way back to our guesthouse for a planned and much needed early night.

At this point, we passed via a local supermarket to refill our packed lunch supplies and to buy a couple of bottles of wine which we planned to share the following night.

Day 5

Today was always going to be a bit of a weird day, as ahead of time we had agreed that at some stage during the holiday I was allowed a day to myself to go exploring and wandering at my own time and pace, and Suesan and Saul had said that they were happy to let me as they intended on doing a full day of fossil hunting at a couple of other remote locations far away from the city centre.

It was also Suesan’s birthday, and for her birthday treat she had turned down a day trip to a luxury spa in preference for a more simple family activity of us all going to the local swimming pool, with the promise that we would give her some peace and quiet in the adjacent with sauna and steam room after to relax in.

So it was that after breakfast, Suesan and Saul packed up the car and headed off to do more rock hitting with tiny hammers, while I did some souvenir hunting, purchased Suesan a birthday present and card, took some more photos and then freed up some evening time by going to a day showing of a movie in a cinema that I had previously pencilled in as another solo treat for myself on another night.

With our mobiles fully charged, we kept in touch throughout the day, and so when they were ready to come back to the guesthouse with the car heavily laden down with some great fossil finds, I caught a bus back to the guesthouse myself merely a few minutes before they got back.

As Suesan does not have much of an appetite at the best of times, she did not feel like eating anything before swimming, so instead we just washed the dirt and sand off the fossils that they had brought back, and of course Suesan opened her birthday card.

A few hours later we were making our way by bus to the local swimming centre, but even though it got us to within a hundred yards of so, as there was no road signs or advertising for the venue it was Suesan who spotted the tiny wall plaque that read ‘baths’ and encouraged us to enter within.

Once inside the place we could see that the city council had chosen to keep its rustic charm by refusing to renovate it but had done a marvellous job on the building and pools general upkeep.

Although I enjoy a splashing about in the water as much as the next guy, I would not say that I am a good swimmer by any means, and so after completing a few obligatory lengths I happily bobbed up and down in the shallow end for a bit until Suesan was ready for her steam room quiet time and I got out and got changed.

Once the other two got out, we made our way back to the bus stop and caught a bus back to our guest house and had an early-ish night, still being fairly tired from the exertion of our recently swim.

Day 6

Today it was back to normal holiday mode, as we all had our breakfast and then caught a bus to the Dynamic Earth exhibition centre that we were sure Saul would enjoy as much as would. We were right, but not in the way we had planned, as after its website it was very much an anti-climax and so none of us enjoyed it all that much to be honest.

A lot of the exhibition information was what Suesan would call “Lies We Tell Kids” in that it over simplified all of the scientific data down to a level that wouldn’t even challenge a five year old, and so though we were mildly amused in places we did not really learn anything.

The exhibitions grand finale was a 4D iMax cinema experience which was a bit of a total let down as the domed screen was virtually impossible to look at without sticking your legs right  out on top of the chair in front of you, and the story made absolutely no sense what so ever.

Leaving the exhibition centre we had the Royal Mile and all its shops to navigate once more before we arrived a few hours later at the Edinburgh Castle for a proper walk round tour of the keep and its various museums it houses.

Although not as high as the top of nearby Arthurs Seat, Edinburgh Castle never-the-less stands an impressive height above the rest of the city, with an almost perfect view of its surroundings, and imposing walls that seem to be grafted on the very rocks themselves.

Indeed, from an architectural point of view, the layout and construction plans of the castle was an incredibly impressive feat in itself and definitely worth of much praise.

The castle also boasts several museums, including its own dungeons that still echo with the voices of its numerous inmates, lovingly recreated using diaries and captain logs left by prisoners of the time.

Considering the time period in question, assuming that the recreations were realistically anything at all like they were at the time then we all felt that the conditions were extremely comfortable for prisoners, and most likely better than the hovels of many of the city’s poorest denizens of the same period.

As a brief rest stop, we decided to rest our weary feet in the castles Royal Tea Shop, where I thought we may as well treat ourselves and ordered us a surprisingly affordable round of refreshments.

After wandering around the museums until the castle closed, we nipped next door to the Camera Obscura that was reported to be the city’s first and oldest tourist attraction, and one of only a handful of such cameras in the world.

With great glee, the camera operator took us through a twenty minute talk on how it operated, and then demonstrated its optical illusion by using a piece of card to lift a passing pedestrian off the street and then putting them back down again.

For a few hours more we went from level to level, sampling some of the most bizarre and mind melting optical illusions, including the maze of mirrors and the rotating mirrored walkway where the only way to walk it safely without feeling you are about to fall off the side is to close your eyes.

It was a very impressive display of illusions, camera tricks and optical oddities, not least was the cardboard dinosaur that’s entire head would follow you around the room so that no matter where you looked it appeared to be staring right at you.

Although Suesan was not that hungry, by now Saul and I were famished and so I took the easy way out by ordering a Chinese takeaway to be delivered to our room, and not only did it come with free bottle of drink but the helpings were plentiful and could have fed a family of six easily.

Day 7

With another full day booked ahead of us, we ate our breakfast and left the guesthouse bound for the docks as we were starting off this morning with a trip to the HMY Britannia, one time floating home to our current monarch and the one place she stated she and her family could truly relax away from any prying eyes.
Another bus saw us eventually arrive at the pier and docked Yacht which was slightly dwarfed in size by a nearby docked cruise ship but of course nothing could really dwarf the majesty and importance of the craft itself.

Being a floating museum, a lot of the areas of the yacht were roped off to the public, and the way to access the lower levels was to return to the jetty and use the set of giant metal stairs connecting the craft to the shore.

Although initially I had set aside a couple of hours for viewing the vessel I soon realised that I had not allowed sufficient time for a complete viewing by half, and so after an obligatory round of tea and scones in the Royal Tea room we fairly briskly skipped through the lower levels and regrettably had to skip the lowest engine level entirely.

That said, thanks to the remote audio guides that we were all issued with, even though we did not linger enough to fully explore every nook and cranny I feel that we did get a lot out of the experience and would highly recommend it to anyone who had even a fancy for boats.

Next on the itinerary was a visit to the Royal Botanical Gardens, one of Suesan’s most anticipated attractions, and one that we almost missed as the bus driver that took us back to the city centre forgot that we had asked to be let off at the nearest stop to it, and so not only did we travel further than we needed to but then we had to backtrack on foot for quite some distance.

Despite being geographically a small site, the gardens were a place where Suesan could probably have spent the entire holiday slowly discovering and not got bored once. For Saul and I all the walking was beginning to tell, and though we enjoy nature, clearly it was not to the same scale that Suesan enjoyed it and so while Saul and I went off looking for a café Suesan continued round the inner recesses of the gardens glass houses.

With the glass houses divided into separate environments and all kept at specific levels of heat and moisture, so it was possible to have a dessert next door to a rain forest that was itself next to a giant pond with vines and triffids in abundance.

Though not exactly the very last guest escorted out of the gardens, we were again pushing the opening times to the max, and with a few hours to go before out Ghost and gore walking tour of the city so I thought we could use it to explore a part of the city we had hitherto neglected yet was where we were due to go for an all you can eat restaurant the following lunchtime.

Going past a pair of giant metal giraffe sculptures I spotted a Spanish restaurant and as I know that neither Suesan nor Saul often frequent tapas bars I thought this would be a perfect opportunity to sample one of the better restaurant chains.

A couple of platters later, and we had a nice variety of starter and main dishes, enough to give them both a real taste of Spanish cuisine, but as I feared none of us could stomach more than the tiniest nibble of mature stilton, and I really do wonder why they even bother serving it as part of a mixed platter!

As today had ended up being an almost non-stop walking fest, I asked the Suesan and Saul if they minded us skipping the Ghost and Gore tour, and thankfully they didn’t so a little earlier than planned we all caught a bus back to our guest house and let out feet recover in preparation for the final full day of Edinburgh city.

Day 8

This morning was devoted to our appreciation of ecclesiastics, as after a small breakfast we headed into the city centre in search of a cathedral or two, as we had passed our nearest one twice a day every day on our journey into the city centre and we felt that it would be a crime if we did not at least step in and pay our respects.

Thus it was that, apart from pausing to pick up a children’s cookery book with recipes from all around the world, we first visited St Marys Cathedral and then St John’s Cathedral, and were given a brief historical introduction to both sites by their caretakers.

Unfortunately we did not time our visits to coincide with either of the cathedrals morning services, and though we had previously read and heard a lot about St Giles Cathedral we somehow kept failing to spot it, and so with time pressing on we gave up in search of the fabled Cathedral and instead went to our all you can eat open style restaurant at Cosmo.

Suesan had previously been to such a restaurant before, and had done her best to describe to us what was in store, but even once I was inside it was still strange to see row upon row of food dishes, aware that each row was filled with a dishes from different countries.

Having all had light breakfasts, we did our best to make the most of the all you can eat restaurant, but despite our best efforts the venue was still trollying out yet more dishes when I felt that if I tried to consume even a wafer thin mint I would first have to unbutton my trousers and shirt a disrespectful amount.

Next up was a trip to the Edinburgh Dungeons, and here was an interactive scary experience that I was sure both Suesan and Saul would enjoy and I was not wrong.

With its curators all dressed up in costume and play acting some of the best pantomime performances you could hope to see, we were found guilty by a mad judge, had our insides ripped out by the torturer, almost poisoned by Burke and Hare, almost eaten by the Sweey Bean cannibal family, witnessed the head of William Wallace come back to take on the army of King Long Shanks and finally executed by being dropped and hung in a brief amusement style ride.

In addition, Suesan was a witch that was sentenced to burn, I was the reluctant boyfriend of one of Sweaney Beans cannibal daughters and Saul gave loud and enthusiastic directions to all the guides as the tortured and terrified us in equal measure.

As a parting spot of fun at our expense we were directed to the exit through a mirrored maze that actually had no exits until they felt that we had been wandering around aimlessly for long enough, at which point they finally shifted a couple of movable inner walls and let us escape back to street level and of course the gift shop.

As time was pressing once we hopped back on the bus we did not really have time to take a full look around Edinburgh’s Zoo, but as it was barely a few hundred meters away from our guest house I felt it would not hurt to at least take a peek inside, which was about all we had time for before it too closed its doors.

Not that this was the end of the day, far from it, as I had truly kept the best until last, as knowing that Suesan is a Jazz fan and both her and Saul love boats and cruises, so I had booked us on a three hour twilight cruise around the bay of Edinburgh, that set off in a few hours’ time, just long enough for us to rest up and pack up the car so that we could have an early start in the morning.

Going back to the Queensferry felt like a bit of a waste of time, as we had been here before, but I had to remind myself that timings of everything had been carefully scrutinised to get the very most out of every day and that if I could have fitted in anything else then I already would have.

Taking the car to the pier at South Queensferry was a lot easier the second time, as we already knew the route, and  we timed our arrival to perfection as it was just about to allow its passengers to board when we pulled up and parked.

On board, we found that we were the youngest on board by a good couple of decades, including the party of elderly Danish ladies that took a shine to young Saul and repeatedly asked him to dance throughout the night.

Not that Saul was shy of the attention, and indeed both he and Suesan were more than willing to get up and boogie until the food arrived. Strangely no ladies asked me to dance, but then that is probably best as I have always had two left feet and unless I at least a little drunk I would rather sit through a French written exam paper than get up and dance in front of the public.

So, while I snapped away with my camera, Suesan and Saul merrily danced, pranced and sung their hearts out and on the way back I could not but feel a huge sense of accomplishment as the pair of them were grinning from ear to ear.

When we got back to the guest house, I settled the bill and we finished packing the car all ready for an early off in the morning.

Day 9

Sadly today we were due to leave the place that we had pretty much fell in love with form the moment we arrived, but in order not to let the holiday blues start too early I had ensured that we had one last hurrah to experience before we hit the highway back southward bound.

The final trip was to the Deep Sea World Aquarium in North Queensferry, which we drove to and arrived a few minutes before it opened, a first for the entire holiday, but an understandable one as it didn’t open until 10am and we had to check out just after breakfast at 8am.

Unlike the smaller aquarium we passed through on our way here, this aquarium was huge, boasting the largest water tunnel in the UK, the largest collection of captive tiger sharks in the UK, but most of all was that several of the feature species has feeding times where the public could not only watch but assist in, which was music to young Saul’s ears.

I honestly think that Saul would not have hesitated for a second in climbing into the main tanks if they said that it was allowed, but as it was the fully dive suited young ladies would one by one take out the various animals and after a brief talk let brave members of the public hold or touch the safer fish and snakes.
It was the perfect ending to a great holiday, and on the way back we were so thoroughly tuckered out that we barely remembered to pause in the first and last pub in Scotland for a drink, and it was miles after the turning for the ancient ruins of Lindisfarne that I even remembered that I had planned on asking Suesan if we could make the stop off and at least take a few pictures even if we couldn’t reach the actual site because of the tides.

Knowing that we would be able to rest and relax fully once we got home, there was no need for a midway stop off on the way back, though I did request that we stop off at the local chippy once we got back as by then I would be hungry again, but I just couldn’t see either Suesan or myself up to cooking until the morning.

We pulled into the driveway just as the sun was beginning to drop below the horizon, and not even having the energy to unpack, we just headed on up to bed and gave ourselves a proper and well deserved early nights sleep. 

Saturday, 18 April 2009

Touchdown Gatwick, UK and a welcome home reception

I was still a little groggy when I boarded the flight home, so did my best to use my floppy hat to shade my eyes and get a little more shut eye, although at the same time this was my first time flying British Airways and I didnt want to completely miss the experience.

Having said that there was nothing exceptional about the flight or the food and so in the end I did just slide the window shutter down and drift off for a quick cat nap before I was being nudged awake to yet again raise the window shutter as we were all due to come in to land.

Arriving at Gatwick I noticed that we seemed to have landed at the further point from the luggage collectoin point and it was quite a little jaunt up and down stairs, esculators and travellators before I finally rounded the bend and got to breaze through passport control.

I took a slight detour to grab some fliers and change up some money and thankfully my rucksack was one of the first out and so in no time at all I was repacking all my bag up for the very last time and walking through nothing to declare to where the main arrivals lounge exit was located.

Even though I had done my best to arrange a mini gathering for my return it was still a slight surprise and great relief to round the corner and instantly spot a small crowd of my family and friends all standing together with little signs saying "welcome home captain caveman".

For once my brain was not on form and I didnt think to get my camera out and capture the moment, but luckily my sister was better prepared and did us all proud by snapping away.

As it was still early and the BA breakfast was nothing much to brag about I managed to convince them to take me to the nearest cafe and buy me a slap up plate of honest to god english grub, which tasted soo good that I could easily have finished off two platefulls, while at the same time trying to savour each and every morsel.

After gorging myself to burst we all trundled out and after another round of hugs and hand shakes where I promised to pop over to my friends soon, I gratefully accepted the list home with my sister and was whisked away back to Gillingham where a houseful of eager relatives were all waiting to welcome me home and at the same time avoid being overwhelmed by the thousands of holiday photos that I have been taking.

True, it might not have been all of the exended family, but this was in some ways a relief as there are few houses and even few occasions big enough these days that can accomodate all of us, and what it did mean was that I got to have proper conversations with those that were around instead of trying to split myself into many me's in order to see everyone at once before they all had to get back to their other plans for the weekend.

My sister had printed off a number of my better photo snaps and blown them up to full A4 size before sticking them around the front room which looked awesome, and then to have a nice glass of cool milk, a slice of homemade fruitcake and then strum around of guitar heros for a bit of a giggle and I had no doubt that I was home, that I was happy and that despite travelling being an amazing experience some times you just cant beat spending a little quality time around your nearest and dearest.

For the first time in a long time I was able to just enjoy the moment without having to rubberneck 360, and for the moment at least push to the back of my mind that very soon I would have a mountain of photos to sort out, paperwork and bills to sort through plus the very unwelcome hassle of once again becoming one of the UK's unemployed and in dire need of searching for a new job.