» Travel

Things I have discovered

helena — Mon, 16 Aug 2010 19:26:44 +0000

It was Shakespeare who said that no traveller returns, meaning that when you go away you come back a different person. We are now well into our holiday and I have learned a few things about myself and life in general.

I have learned that I want to live in a country where the waiters have summer houses. At dinner in Paris the other night we were served by a charming waiter aged around 50 who had a summer house in the Var. I felt this was a sign of a civilised country.

Rupert’s grandmother Kitty said one should always stay in the best hotel in town. I would say that you should never stay in a hotel where you don’t want to steal the bathroom products.

Finally I have discovered that Wales is a very nice place. This is my first visit here and I know that the weather (constant sunshine) has been extremely unusual, but we have liked it so much we may come back next year. I think this has more to do with the friends we are staying with though than the weather, however good it has been.

Three in the morning stress

helena — Fri, 13 Aug 2010 01:25:09 +0000

I suppose if you have to be awake at 3am there are worse places to be. I am sitting on a rooftop terrace in Paris with an (albeit limited) view of the Eiffel Tower. Our hotel room is a tiny attic room at the rather oddly named Hotel Wo on the rue de Stockholm close to the Gare St Lazare. I feel like a character in La Boheme. My tiny hand is frozen, even though it is summer. We are almost a week into our holiday.

The Swiss Alps were perfect – totally glorious. If you ever have some (serious) money to spare then go and stay at the Tschuggen Grand Hotel in Arosa. We were there writing a travel piece for the paper and I cannot think of a more charming way to spend four days. I think I even slept through the night at least twice.

This nighttime waking is nothing new of course. But isn’t it extraordinary how annoying it is and the stupid things you lie awake worrying about.

Just now I was worrying about, in no particular order;
how I am going to lose the two kilos I have inexplicably gained since leaving Abu Dhabi
how we will make it to the Eurostar and then on to Wales all in one piece with all our luggage (including Leo’s scooter) intact
how the girls are getting on with my mother, or rather how my mother is coping with their endless energy
why they didn’t eat the sophisticated cheeses my father tells me my aunt was offering them, insisting instead on eating supermarket cheese – is this a terrible defect?
what to wear tomorrow (today)
where to live if we ever leave Abu Dhabi
will I have more snotty emails and calls from the (only) summer tenants we have at Sainte Cecile – it seems the house is rebelling against their presence and keeps shutting down the electricity and/or water supply at regular intervals
if my husband will ever stop snoring
is my book is good enough
will I ever finish it

So it was much better to come out here and enjoy the beautiful view. Amazing how chilly it is. And how peaceful without the sound of my brain whirring. Now I just need some gloves.

Holiday time

helena — Sat, 07 Aug 2010 17:02:43 +0000

Tonight we head off to Europe. All being well this time tomorrow we will be in the Swiss Alps at the Tschuggen Hotel where we spend four nights (working hard on a travel piece) followed by Paris, London, Abersoch (it’s in Wales), then home to Sainte Cecile for a week and finally the Savoie to our friends Norrie and Mary. My mother will bring the girls to Sainte Cecile for a reunion.

I will be relaxing, sleeping, eating and drinking. But also trying to do some work on the book for which we have a cover…..what do you think? Leo and Bea are both concerned with her headless state. Nothing wrong with headless I say, that’s how I spend most of my days…..

Popping to Oman for the weekend

helena — Sun, 20 Jun 2010 13:16:36 +0000

One of the advantages of living here is that you can pop to Oman for the weekend, which is what we did last week.

We drove from Abu Dhabi over the border to the Musandam Peninsula and the exclusive, gorgeous Zighy Bay resort.

Arriving there from the city through a mountain track populated by goats was extremely exciting and romantic. The resort itself has a feel to it a little like a small Spanish village from another era, with sandy tracks the children cycled up and down and wooden huts.

Listening to the sea was glorious, the waves crashing against the beach and hundreds of little crabs scuttling around like over-sized demented spiders.

It was so lovely to see the children outside, cycling around, playing and swimming. They had three friends there and the six of them roamed around in a pack, in total safety, and ordered room service endlessly (eating for kids under the age of 12 was free).

There was a classic line from Bea when she told me off for being caught topless by her young friends; “Mummy, you only have one life and there is no point in spending it naked”.

The four of adults played tennis (once we got Leo and Max, the new Rafa and Federer off the court), read books and watched the England game which was undoubtedly the low-light of the weekend.

Having said that possibly the only thing that was more painful and irritating than witnessing England’s sad performance was watching my husband flirting with a Brazilian woman sitting next to us. What is it about Brazilian women that sends men mad? You just have to mention the word Brazilian and they start salivating and behaving like fools.

As there were no men for me to flirt with I went to bed at half-time hoping that by the time I woke up England would have scored. They hadn’t, but neither had my husband, so I suppose I should be grateful for small mercies.

One night in Bangkok

helena — Thu, 10 Jun 2010 02:55:46 +0000

So I finally get a good night’s sleep, in Bangkok. Probably not what most people come here for but it made me happy. We are here for three days; Rupert is writing a cover story for the Travel section about it.

I did not pack any red clothes, nor any yellow ones. In fact I’m not sure I own any yellow clothes, but it is Olivia’s favourite colour so maybe she should stay away for the time being.

So far the only evidence of any troubles has been the burnt out shell of the Central World shopping centre. But we did have a wobbly moment on a rooftop restaurant last night when we heard some football fans chanting and wondered if the red shirts had come back to town.

I love Bangkok so far. We landed yesterday morning and managed to fit in a massage, tailor-made clothes, very cheap shopping, lots of eating and even a trip on the hotel boat to the other side of the river where honeymooners sat listening to Thai music over dinner.

There is also something extremely serene about a Buddhist country, even if things were less than peaceful a few weeks ago.

Today we have to onerous task of investigating the spa here at the Mandarin Oriental and dinner on a boat this evening.

But for now I am going to breakfast; gorgeous Japanese green tea and tropical fruits. And I look forward to a good night’s sleep again tonight…..

As good as it gets

helena — Fri, 12 Feb 2010 07:38:05 +0000

Carla said this morning at breakfast that we should always remember this trip and how wonderful it has been. For example, if we get captured by Somali pirates we should think about how happy we were at Shreays and how beautiful it is.

I think these past few days I have understood must be what it is like being a princess. We are alone in this luxury retreat and treated like royalty. We probably wake up a bit earlier than your average princess, but that is to do yoga, so I don’t mind.

In case I ever do get kidnapped by Somali pirates I am going to list some of the special things about Shreyas here so I can remember them:

The tree opposite the yoga pavilion which I focus on when I do my tree pose

The flowers strewn over the tables at mealtimes

The ginger tea

The smiling zen staff

The sound of my yoga instructor’s voice when he says ‘balance’ and ‘be aware of’ whatever part of my body I am meant to be aware of or ‘very good’ which he doesn’t say very often

The amazing food; day after day

The dinners, always candlelit and in a different part of the garden

The crisp, clean, elegant swimming pool

The little garden with flowers and a tree in it outside our tent which is almost part of the bathroom (there is no wall)

The tall palm trees swaying gently in the wind

The massages from Jason who has magical hands

The library where you feel you could spend a lifetime reading all the books (not all, there are some terrible ones, left behind by people I assume when they realised how bad they were)

The morning and evening sun by the pool

The sound of birds all around

And just in case this list isn’t enough, here are some more photos…

An ideal life

helena — Sun, 07 Feb 2010 13:01:49 +0000

So far the Shreyas retreat has come as close to my idea of an ideal way to live as I have ever experienced.

Set in the lush Indian countryside it has beautifully landscaped gardens, a yoga pavilion, lovely swimming pool and little tree-houses where you can chant, or just chill and read a book.

The food is outstanding; all vegetarian Indian. There is no alcohol but actually I don’t even mind.

The day begins at 7am with yoga, then breakfast then meditation and chanting. Following this there is free time until lunch when I work on the novel, have almost written 5000 words, not bad considering my brain is a little mushy to say the least. There is another yoga session at 4 and then dinner at 8. Dinner is in the garden, candlelit.

There are lovely touches all around, like flowers strewn on the tables and every time you take your shoes off to go inside someone comes and turns them around for when you come out again.

My friend Carla has arrived and it is lovely to be with her. There are also some lovely people staying here. I guess in a yoga retreat you’re unlikely to get any real plonkers.

OK there are times when I want to giggle, like this morning when I was sitting cross-legged with my fingers in my ears chanting. Happily Carla was in another class (the easier one, natch) so didn’t see me or I would have collapsed.

But most of the time I am really into the whole experience; the exercise, the breathing, the chanting and the feeling of total and utter blissful relaxation. They say in the literature that a holiday is actually a holy day. I’m not religious but this is as close to holy as I have ever felt. I can’t believe we have another week to go…..

The only way to travel

helena — Mon, 25 Jan 2010 07:06:28 +0000

I travelled to Cairo last night with my friend Joy who is the wife of the Swiss Ambassador in Abu Dhabi. I am never travelling without her again.

We get to the airport where she checks in at the business class counter (despite the fact that we have economy-class tickets). Then we are escorted through a special VIP passport control by a young lady and up to the Etihad Business Class lounge where we drink Chamomile tea in splendid isolation. Half an hour before we are due to take off we are escorted by a charming young man to the gate where he pushes us to the front of the security queue. Once through, we get into beautiful white Mercedes with a flashing light on its roof and are whisked to the plane.

Next there is a brief hellish interlude as we endure an economy-class flight for four hours. “How the mighty are fallen,” I say to Joy.

Happily upon landing normal service resumes. We are met by Switzerland’s military attache for the Middle East and his driver. His driver takes our passports and organises my visa then we are whisked through the VIP passport check and into a waiting car.

Joy says this normally doesn’t happen to her either, and was as surprised as I was. I am sure though that the diplomatic passport played a big hand. Or maybe my meeting with Sheikh Mohammed (below blog) is already having an effect as the ‘wasta’ filters down……..

What went wrong?

helena — Tue, 15 Sep 2009 09:40:53 +0000

It may be a stupid question, but you can’t help wondering as you wander through the Egyptian museum looking at the remnants from what was one of the world’s greatest ever civilisations: Where did it all go wrong?

How come thousands of years ago they were so rich and so talented and intelligent that they were able to bury people with more riches than it would take several families a lifetime to make in modern Egypt, where people earn around $160 a month if they’re lucky?

I am shocked at how poor this country is, and so is Nawal, the writer and activist I interviewed last night. She of course blames it on economic colonialism. As well as non-secular government and a patriarchal society. “We are forced to eat imported food,” she told me last night. “We are perfectly capable of growing our own, but now our agriculture is non-existent.”

The answer is clearly to put the women in charge and make the men grow the vegetables. Then they can go back to the good old days.

PS In response to Dom’s comment below (as my own website seems to think that my comments are spam and will not let me post any) my point is this: In England today the majority of people do not live below the poverty line. We have a working and a middle class that is prosperous. Here there seems to be no middle class, 99.9% are poor and the others are rich. Of course peasants in Medieval England were badly off, but the fact is they don’t live in the gutter today or have to send their children out to work.

On a Camel with a BlackBerry

helena — Mon, 14 Sep 2009 03:54:20 +0000

I have arrived in Egypt. As always my departure was not easy. The morning I was leaving Olivia’s ear infection came back, Bea had a “hurty tummy” and she lost her blue exercise book. Leo had the worst problem of all; a bad hair day.

Anyway I managed to escape and a few hours later found myself on a camel lunging towards the pyramids. Obviously I had my BlackBerry with me (I am on a working trip after all) and in between trying to reach the elusive film star Mona Zaki to set up an interview and confirming appointments for today I saw these symbols of ancient Egypt.

Rupert calls them “proof that man has been a congenital idiot for centuries”. My guide Mohammed also questioned their wisdom: “Mr Go no come back” he told me with confidence.

What did I think of them? Well, to be honest, they look better in pictures. In reality the ground is strewn with rubbish, the animals they give you to ride, horse or camel, look like they have not eaten for weeks (Mohammed blamed their Saudi guests for this) and the prices are extortionate. I did have a brief Lawrence of Arabia moment as the wind picked up and the three pyramids loomed ahead of us. I can imagine the desert can be an extremely beautiful, calming place.

Cairo, on the other hand, is not. Well I have not seen much but compared with Abu Dhabi it just seems so dirty and busy. I guess this is the Middle East without oil wealth. As a Swede I am about as far out of my comfort zone as I ever want to be. On the way to dinner last night I almost fell over the carcass of a rotting ginger cat. The cars all look older than me. Having said that there is something very authentic about it and I may grow to love the chaos the longer I stay. One of my heroines and one of the people I am interviewing today, Nawal El Saadawi, is mad about it, even though they keep putting her in prison.

I have just had a call from Leo, another bad hair day. But the girls are happy so Rupert only has to get the gel and the hairbrush out.