I mentioned that as much as I would have loved to, I couldn't linger any longer in Guadalest because we had much to do and little time to do it.
One of those must dos was that afternoon outside of Barcelona, in cava country.
For those who don't know me well enough (clearly not at all), I love champagne in all it's forms but I have a particular passion for the Spanish version of it - cava. The passion extends to a brand that I buy from the one shop in Sydney that sells it - Segura Viudas. I love it. It's comparatively cheap, dry, punchy and full of flavour.
I wanted to visit the caves (cellar), the home of Segura Viudas. I wanted to make a pilgrimage.
So we made haste, northwards.
The vineyard driveway was long and impressive.
But the man at the gate stopped us.
"Lo siento" is what he said. "Manyana".
It was a cruel blow. "Sorry. Tomorrow". But tomorrow was not to be. We had to keep moving. My heart was heavy.
We headed along the road, back to the hugely popular Freixenet. I like Freixenet, just not as much as Segura, and I am never too keen on visiting the big wineries (I hadn't realised that Segura was also fairly large).
There were tourist buses, and shiny displays inside. Buy your ticket for the next tour. I guessed it would have to do.
But by that stage, I didn't care. I just wanted to go to a cava maker.
Fortune turned and after a call from the woman renting the apartment to us in Barcelona we were on our way to Caves Felix Massana, a low key production by comaprison with the yummiest cava.
Christina, wife of Felix, took us on an extensive tour of this boutique winery.
which was informative,
and tasty at the same time.
Now I just have to start getting it sent out here.
Taking a short cut on the way into the city brought us to a dead-end that was a pretty cool backdrop.
...Place to have a birthday - even if it's not still your birthday.
I have been lucky enough to spend two previous birthdays in this little town on a rock, in the hills west of Javea. Guadalest is mostly seen as a touristy day trip from the coast so the night-time is very quiet there, and I think it's pretty magical. I don't know why. It just feels special.
As you may already know, my intention to spend my recent birthday there as well was thwarted by me needing to be in Paris then, so I had to make do with dragging out my birthday celebrations even longer, which of course did not bother me in the slightest.
First stop, as we had become accustomed to, was the river and falls at Fuentes De L'Algar. On a hot day, the brisk, milky waters are so invigorating - breatakingly invigorating - but if you swim around enough, you get used to it.
I love to swim from the main pool up the narrow canyon. So fun!
After swimming we had our lunch at nearby Casa Marcos which was delicious Spanish with a twist. You can park in their parking area across the road, visit the falls, have lunch in their restaurant, then swim in their pool (we did that last time, but were too exhausted this time) after.
Guadalest is only about twenty minutes further on, and like last time we stayed at Cases Noves.
Though this time I was lucky enough to be staying in the top floor room - the penthouse so to speak - and the bed there is ginormous with a fabulous view down to Altea, and oh so comfortable (which had been lacking in the beds I had slept in, in Europe thus far). The other rooms are gorgeous too, but this one was made for a birthday.
The hotel is quaint, charming and filled with beautiful old features so it's a surprise that each room also comes with an i-pad which (along with internet) links to the television for on-call movies.
But I love Cases Noves because they do think of the little things like that.
There are walking and bike tours on offer. There are hundreds of cds to borrow and play in your room. There is self-service drinks and well stocked amenities.
Toni and Sophia are lovely hosts, and I was in for another surprise when Toni told me they had remembered us from four years ago, because my children had been so well-behaved! He told me that he and his wife had spoken about the family from Australia on more than one occasion, wishing that other children who visited were as polite and considerate. Wow. That's some review! Made me feel pretty good (and momentarily forget all the times I had to scream at them, myself).
Dinner on the terrace is delightful.
and funny if it means Evan trying to get the wifi password from Toni (who was in on the deal, and making it up)
The food at Cases Noves is yummy and pretty!
As darkness fell I decided I wanted to take a walk through the quiet town, so I got the girls out of bed
"What? Walk through town in our jammies!?"
"Yes, Why not?"
Time for tea.
Breakfast (on the terrace) was huge and just as yummy (and pretty) as dinner.
I would have loved to stay more than one night for the town and the hotel, but we had so many places to be, and not enough time to see them all, so we only stayed long enough for me to head up the castle hill and buy another beautiful bracelet from my favourite jewellery designer.
Next time I'm there for my birthday I will be sure to stay longer!
We left Paris in the evening and drove to Argenton sur Creuse, a pretty town on the Creuse (funny that). Our hotel was right on the river and the location would have been delightful on a sunny day. It didn't matter so much for us as we couldn't linger anyway.
Our host at the hotel was lovely, but she had less English than I had French so I asked about what the hotel had been before it was a hotel and she explained that it was a flour mill. And yes, on the exterior it certainly looked like it had been a flour mill back in the day, however my inquiry was inspired by the fact that the internal look and smell (clean, disinfectant-y, nothing sinister) was more that of a hospital or nursing home.
I am left to ponder that forever, as I didn't find the answer from asking.
For those who wish to delve further, the hotel is very clean, well-kept, the owner is lovely, and the town looks like it's worth spending more than a sleep in - Le Moulin Saint Etienne.
We headed southward in torrential rain, which only let up as we neared the mountains.
Andorra is a small country that sits among the Pyrenees, sandwiched between France and Spain. According to wikipedia it has the third highest life expectancy at birth, in the world, and I don't doubt it.
If they stay away from the baccy, that is.
Tobacco farming appears to be a significant income generator, although tourism (particulary in the snow season) is touted as the biggest money spinner for the small nation.
Like the tagline for Cessnock, NSW is "Mines, Wines and People" (which never fails to make me smile and must be said with a rough drawl) Andorra could well own the slogan, "Tobacco, Wines and Tax Free", though the tax free part appears soon to be ending, which will probably come as a blow to the smokers who go there to buy cartons for 20 Euro, and the folk from the neighbouring countries who stock up on white-goods there.
I love hot weather and the beach, but there is something special, almost magical, that I love about a ski resort - even in the off season - and Andorra has that feeling.
Comparatively really cheap in Europe, our hotel chalet The Plaza was really luxurious.
And it had my favourite cava in the mini bar fridge, for only $4!
We even did some clothes shopping there.
It's a great place for a stopover!
But a brief stopover is all it was for us. I'll have to go next time in the ski-season...
As I mentioned in my previous post, I had wished to spend my birthday in a small hilltop town in Spain,
but had to spend it in Paris.
But, if I had to spend it in Paris I wanted to spend it at the Pompidou.
But, the Pompidou was closed on my birthday so instead I spent it shopping for clothes (not for me) for my kids.
But (again, I know) I had a yummy birthday lunch with them.
And (not but) I also got to go to one of my favourite shops in the world, which happened to be across the road from my hotel.
I first discovered Tombees Du Camion many years ago in Paris and then again with my kids four years ago. It is the coolest bunch of collectible collections! Always changing and always with the wow-that's-so-awesome-ness.
I don't dislike Paris, I just didn't really feel like I desperately wanted to come and spend another four days here.
Last time I was here (and it was the second time that journey) we pretty much covered all we wanted to see and do. Besides, I'm not a huge fan of cities.
Paris is a little stinky. There is wee on the footpaths, and in the metros, and lots of dog poo to try and avoid, but even as I say this I feel bad - how dare I speak ill of the city of love! Paris has great beauty too, of course that can't be dismissed, but I have seen a lot of it, and I know most of my readers would probably give an oft used body part to spend their birthday there,
but
I just didn't want to.
And to ice my cake of ungratefulness, the summer weather was rainy, windy, and cold.
Still,
the kids and I made the most of it.
For a start, we stayed in a beautiful hotel in Montmartre
Terrass Hotel is a little sanctuary. The staff are very friendly and accommodating, and my room was big and comfortable with a view of the Eiffel Tower
and a cemetery that looks really cute with tilt-shift.
The kids' room was a little cosier - more to Paris room size standards - but they had a lovely outlook, and they're smaller than me anyway.
For my birthday not in Spain (where I had wanted and planned to be) I decided we would go to the Pompidou, because I had loved it so much last time (oh, my kids were so cute then! See them in the photo with the Yves Klein painting!). Problem was, my birthday was the Tuesday, and the Pompidou isn't open on a Tuesday....
Lucky I had checked that. We ended up shopping for kids clothes on my birthday. Yup. Pretty much all day. It takes that long to drag three kids around Paris on the metro.
We went to the Pompidou on the Monday.
A cool spot with a view to rest our legs on the top of Pompidou.
I think the pigeons agreed.
On the way back from the metro I was hassled about stopping at the boulangerie for meringues. There was a queue (often there is a queue for bakery products in Europe) and I told them they had to queue and order and pay themselves - en Francais.
They did.
They were a bit nervous, but the desire for meringue was stronger.
To the victors, went the spoils.
Please disregard any changes in tense through these European holiday posts. Just because I start one with good internet, doesn't mean it gets finished that way. I am now in Spain, about to travel back to France, so have some catching up to do.
As a post script, I should mention that on three individual occasions I was offered assistance from French people (well, all men now I think of it) when I hadn't even asked for it. They were lovely. It's just the location that I don't love as much as I am supposed to.
Last month I was in Fiji again, photographing another wedding.
I am a really really lucky girl!
I was back at 'my second home', the Shangri-La Fijian Resort, to photograph a whole lot of fun at the wedding of a couple of New Zealanders (which made it even more international, kind of!).
I would love to share wedding photos with you, but my couple wants a little privacy so you will have to make do with the assurance that we got some awesome photos of them (they were very brave), and just make do with other photos from my trip.
The day before the wedding I did a little location scout around the resort, and the local village of Cuvu.
The long, tree-lined drive at The Fijian is one of my favourite spots.
From the entrance at the causeway where the guards seem to compete with each other about who will give the loudest and most exuberant "Bula!", all the way along to the reception lobby, I just love the way it looks and the way it makes me feel.
Lucky for me, my bride and groom were a bit more photogenic than my hairy assistant.
That evening we tagged along with the whole wedding crew on a village visit.
The day of the wedding, the weather was picture perfect Fijian bliss, from first thing in the morning through to it's colourful sunset, and beyond, into a warm and windless evening.
It was bookended by days of low cloud, wind, and rain, but Fiji is always beautiful and I still found plenty of things to do.
Such as finally exploring beyond the sign pointing to Tavuni Hill Fort, which I had driven past on so many occasions on my way beyond Sigatoka. The cooler weather was perfect for the 15 minute wander up the hill.
Back in the early 1800's a Tongan Cheif, Maile Latamai, who was having some hard times on the home-front, decided to hop in his boat and paddle over to Fiji. About 500 miles, so I guess things were pretty bad at home. The cannibalism didn't seem to faze him and he set up home on Tavuni Hill.
The residents of the nearby village still claim Tongan descent.
It's an interesting visit through history, and there are some spectacular views over the Sigatoka River and valley from up there too.
This is the killing stone. I had a really eerie feeling when I was near it.
Shell midden. The remnants of the seafood (mostly freshwater collected from the river way down below) that was eaten when other people were off the menu.
The following day, with little time left before I went home, I was determined to get some snorkeling in no matter what.
I went out in front of my room, and travelled with the current around the point and onto the beach. It was a fairly superhuman effort given I had gotten quite sick after the wedding, and given the weather...
Despite this, under the water was still a blissful adventure-world for me. Listening to just the scratchy tinkle of the many fish grazing on the coral and in the sand is one of the most peaceful sounds, and it really makes me smile (which often sends water rushing into my goggles and I choke a little, but it's worth it).
I love these fish. They are so curious, and a little territorial, so they will come up and give you a stare, and when you turn away they chase after you and give a little nip. Too funny.
The visibility was not good and the current too strong for me to take more photos. I decided instead to just go with the flow (boom-tish) and enjoy the music of the underwater.
All my recommending of the place seems to have worked. The only problem is now I need to remember to book - otherwise I have to join the queue outside!
So while I was waiting I had a quick walk with my camera around night-time Cuvu.
When you look at this photo, it really helps if you can hear the ear-bleeding volume of the tinny speaker system pumping out dance-pop.
Full house each night!
and this mud crab deliciousness is one of the reasons.
I think the staff are another good reason to keep coming back.
Thanks, Lusia!
Next day, we were supposed to be homeward bound, but our flight was cancelled. The airline put us up in the Sofitel, on Denarau.
An impressive foyer, and huge swimming pool, but the Sofitel (or anything on Denarau) is not a patch on the Shangri-La. Our room was tiny, the noise coming from the other rooms was significant with the balcony door open, the beach sand is grey and the swimming area is dull river water. And it's all modern, and completely charmless.
But, down the road from Denarau, I stumbled on this cool, newly opened Indian restaurant.
Best Dhal and Saag Paneer I've had.
So if you fly into Nadi around lunchtime, take a drive over there, or if you do stay at Denarau, make sure you drop in to the Bombay Lodge.
A spectacular finish to an always spectacular visit....
Though someone must have forgotten my intense fear of flying!
With my stomach in my shoes and my brain all woozy, I managed to get a few nice photos out over the islands and the surf at Cloubreak.
Sunset was just about on us, and the Fiji Pro had just wrapped up for the day.
It was pretty awesome.
Our lovely pilot, who didn't let me die in a helicopter crash.
Namotu Island. I could stay there one day. Anyone want me to photograph a wedding there??
Cloudbreak, and the tower, and if you look carefully to the upper left of the tower you can see a line of dark specks. All of the onlookers (many I imagine with heavy camera gear) trekking across the reef to board boats.
About a month ago, I took my favourite travelling partners down the South Coast overnight, so I could check out some locations for a wedding I am shooting there later in the year.
We stayed at Coolongatta Estate - accommodation in a series of old buildings left over from the first settlement on the South Coast.
We slept in the Plumber's Shop.
It's a really nice place to stay, and it's also a winery, so it's winning on all fronts for me.
It makes me so happy to see my kids can play pool. Now all I have to do is get us a table.
Oh, and somewhere to put it.
I'll pop it in the cabana next to the tennis court I will also have to install.
Which will sit a little bit beyond the giant chess set.
Notice a pattern here? In more ways than one...
Heading back, we went along the sea-cliff bridge. I've always wanted to walk along the sea-cliff bridge.
A word of advice... Don't cross the road at the barricade. It's a double barricade that trips over over-confident crossers. It twists their ankles so when they really wanted to walk along the sea-cliff bridge all they can do is balance on one foot, whimper, and take photos...
Love-locks. A phenomena I first saw in Riga, Latvia seems to be taking over every bridge in the world.
There's a lot of love out there!
ET phoning 'home'.
I love my little travel partners. I can't wait for our next journey!
A few years ago I holidayed in the Hunter, staying at Mystwood. I was really impressed with the place, and said so right here on my blog.
Turns out Lieneka, one of the owners, was impressed with what I said and shot, so she invited me back photograph the retreat just before Christmas.
Mystwood still exceeds my expectations for a great value getaway. The fluffy robes and the outdoor spas are still there, the beds are comfortable, the bread is home-made, and the place is incredibly peaceful and relaxing.
Stella, a golden retriever/poodle was our initial welcoming party
The cottages.
Every cottage has a big outdoor spa.
Dinner BBQ packs can be purchased,
and breakfast is supplied (with that home-made bread).
We did a few walks around the property.
Those cows in the distance,
They were in the paddock where the dam was,
so we took the car up to the dam (I really don't cut it with large animals).
The cows followed the car the whole way,
then surrounded it,
with a couple nuzzling and licking it!
Pretty funny.
Stella again, but this time with a coconut.
After dinner, with the help of Kerri and Molly, we had some fun with sparklers...
How many takes to get it right?
Enough that we ran out of sparklers and had to use a torch.
Woohoo, I think we nailed it!
I love the sky.
There are four one bedroom cottages, and one two bedroom, all with kitchens, spas, and combustion fireplaces. Mystwood is very good value for what it offers, and it's got wineries just up the road, so really, what more do you need?
It was back in June that I flew the return trip to the Maldives with Malaysian Airlines, and it's been since then that I have been trying to get some kind of recompense for my poor treatment on the flight home.
The crazy part is, while I was really humiliated and made to feel bad flying on that last leg home, what has gone on since with the buck-passing, and non-answered mails has been mind-boggling in how poor the customer service of this major brand is!
It all starts with quite a long story about the flight home...
A little while back I ventured up the Blue Mountains to Katoomba to catch a gig. It was meant to be a little getaway to see a band, and to try to find some kind of storage inspiration for my bathroom, at the many antique stores up there.
It didn't quite work out. The band (Kira Puru and the Bruise, who I had seen at the Vanguard before) got cancelled, and I came up empty-handed and unispired from my antique trawling.
Still, it is a nice getaway, and I found a great place to stay.
The Mountain Heritage Hotel and Spa has rooms with views, and rooms with fireplaces, and rooms (like ours) with pleasant outlooks, and they amble away from the main reception/lounge/dining area off hallways lined with historical photographs.
Our room was quiet, spacious, warm and comfortable.
Mountain Heritage began life as 'The California', back in 1908 and it is a charming guesthouse with all the important bits such as open fires, great views, and a good wine list.
Before dinner, we joined a hub of relaxed patrons in the bar and were entertained by a pianist tinkling out standards on the keys. It felt grown up.
We ate at The Rooster, it's a bit of a Mountain institution, but it's not cheap. I had lived in the mountains for 18 months, and my parents lived there for years, but I had never dined there so it was about time I did. The food was delicious.
The escargot was lip-smackingly slurpy, the cheese souffle was soul-nourishing and bready, and the rack of lamb moreish, but I was stuffed by the end. You won't go hungry on the two course set menu, and it's a brave person who takes on three courses, but the flavours are worth it.
Back at the hotel, I forced someone who doesn't like playing Scrabble to play a game with me. Can you tell he doesn't like it?
How about now?
Even using his phone to cheat, the towel was thrown in before the game finished (and I won). I thought it was lovely sitting by the fire playing Scrabble, but the feeling was not mutual.
Breakfast in the dining room accompanied by the view (a little blown out in this picture).
So while things didn't go to plan, it was still a nice little break, and the Mountain Heritage is definitely recommended.
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