Europe – Jason likes to travel

Helsinki: part two (May 2019)

Hello dear readers!

I’m throwing a quick one-two your way! I finished off part one of the Helsinki story but given that took a while for me to publish and I had complaints of ending the prior post on a cliffhanger I thought I’d best not do so again! So here’s an immediate follow up to part one!

This one is a story as old as time. We’ve all heard that fable of Jason having a fair few drinks on his travels and suffering the consequences, right? I guess that’s the general synopsis of part two but let’s expand on that shall we?

By all accounts I’d had quite a relaxed time in Helsinki so far. My Finland-tinted glasses meant that although I’d not really done anything of note, Helsinki was so far faultless in my eyes. How could you not love charming Helsinki?

Nevertheless I’d only really explored it by day so far and I’m rarely content leaving a destination without experiencing its nightlife. I’m not opposed to taking a day-trip somewhere but you certainly see a different side to places after dark and it’s the one criticism I’d have of anyone suggesting a daytrip is sufficient anywhere.

Some places come to life after dark and although I was already smitten with Finland, I was hoping Helsinki could do the same. I hadn’t really done anything Saturday night so I was keen to go out on Sunday and find somewhere to get a beer, have a nice evening and maybe even make friends (have someone take pity on me!).

I was optimistic for the night ahead, less so about the latter. I’m quite an introverted person and going to a country where the population has a stereotype of being quite reserved is not the greatest combination. Go to somewhere like the USA solo and it’s impossible to not make friends, particularly as a Brit – they love us over there. Finland though? The jury was out.

I searched for a few options on Google before settling on a bar with a scattering of food options and encouraging reviews. I made the short walk from my hotel over to this bar but unfortunately it didn’t live up to any expectation and was a bit of a disappointment.

I wasn’t sure if this was a “go to the bar” or “take a seat” kind of joint and with little guidance on arrival I figured I’d just head on up to the bar and get a drink and yet I found nobody actually at the bar. I scanned the room but with the exception of a few young lads playing pool, there was nobody to be seen. A couple of minutes later one of the lads started heading in my direction.

Well, beyond me I suppose. If you were worried about something untowards about to happen, fear not dear readers. Nothing quite that sinister! My inconvenient arrival however had sadly caused the pool game to take a break (ha! No pun intended!) in order for one of the lads to pour me a pint before returning back to his friends immediately after.

Perhaps it was just a bad night but “employee hangout” wasn’t really the vibe I was looking for. Nor anyone in Helsinki for that matter as the bar was otherwise dead. Admittedly it was a Sunday night, reviews do suggest it’s a good place to spend an evening and perhaps there was a Michelin-star chef twiddling their thumbs in the back somewhere but I’d already made up my mind that this would be nothing more than a “one and move on” kind of stop.

“Give us a few minutes to finish our game and the loser will go whip you up something in the kitchen..”

I finished my drink and hoped to have more luck at bar number two – the “Brewster Bar” in the Kallio neighbourhood. I was staying on the outskirts of Kallio, Google suggesting this was actually “Helsinki’s coolest neighbourhood” or “hipster district” so I had hoped it’d be a good base for my stay.

The Brewster Bar was much more in the style of what I was looking for, albeit sadly lacking a food menu. From memory I think there might have been some bar snacks but I figured this might have to be a “one and move on” kind of stop for completely contrasting reasons because I was also pretty keen to get some proper food somewhere.

The vibe and atmosphere was really nice though. Enough of a buzz about the place without being crowded. They had music playing through the speakers but not loudly enough to disturb the rest of the room which appeared to be full of mostly young locals enjoying themselves. There was a good selection of beers too so I ordered some sort of Finnish beer and found myself a prime seat to do some people-watching.

Without suggesting I’m one of the “cool kids” (Mum, I’m cool, right?), it’s probably bars such as this that do give Kallio that hipster vibe to it and yet I felt much more comfortable here. It’s somewhere I knew would probably be a frequent hangout spot for me if I was a local too. I finished my drink and pondered whether I should get another beer or move on. As it was, the decision was taken out of my hands.

I’d picked a seat with a fairly central seat, ideal for people-watching but seemingly also being watched. I stuck out like a sort thumb and had gained the attention of a local, Jussi, who was curious of the unfamiliar face in one of his regular haunts. He introduced himself in Finnish before engaging in conversation in English – I had made a friend! See, I am cool!

I had no intention of abandoning my new friend so I grabbed us a beer each from the bar. We had a nice chat, I was particularly interested in learning more about Helsinki and Finland and we got to know each other a little better until our glasses were empty again.

“One more or shall we move on..?”

I’d found myself a Finnish tour guide! Better yet, the best kind of tour guide! I had myself a beer buddy!

Google isn’t the worst tool to use on your travels but its no substitute for an actual local to show you around and take you to the best local pubs / bars. We headed onwards and Jussi took us to this small little bar, I couldn’t tell you where it is nor what the name of it was but we settled in for a nice cold beer which was delivered in an icy kind of glass to keep it cold. Jussi seemed to know the barman (owner?) pretty well and so we hung around chatting to him for a little while.

From there we moved onwards to another bar – this one called the Pub Heinähattu which I only know because Google are efficient stalkers and tracked the exact location using my photo from the bar. This was another cosy bar that I really liked and was also dog-friendly so every so often this little dog would run over and join us for a quick cuddle before doing the rounds again.

Things from there are a little blurry. I don’t feel like we had that many beers and yet I think we were both quite drunk, not eating obviously hadn’t helped on my part.

We exchanged contact details, said our goodbyes and went our separate ways. I don’t actually know what the time was when we left. It felt fairly late but it was also really quite light out in relation to how late it actually felt – the daylight at that time of year is quite distorting and yet I was near-ready for bed.

I don’t know what the Finnish equivalent is to grabbing a kebab after a night out but I still hadn’t eaten and I didn’t really know what or where would be open at this time of the night. However I’d passed a nearby 24 hours McDonalds and I figured that’d do the trick for tonight – some chicken nuggets to soak up the beer!

I took the slow walk back to my hotel, munching on my nuggets, and although they were good I still felt a bit peckish. I came to the drunken conclusion that I needed more food and ordered myself a pizza, from England naturally.

A few minutes later my blushes had been somewhat spared and I’d received a phonecall stating they weren’t able to complete my order – “no problem mate, I’m not in England anyway..” before I promptly crashed for the next however many hours.

BAM!

Alright, it probably wasn’t anything that abrupt but something must have woken me from my slumber. My plan was to wake up at a good hour and catch the ferry over to Suomenlinna Fortress. The reality was I had awoken at a time that mimicked something around midday, I was leaving in a few hours and in no way ready to even depart my bed at this point. I wasn’t hungover or even feeling rough really, I’d slept it all off but I needed a little time to wake up. Certainly more than the 10 or 15 minutes I had to get myself checked out and out of the hotel.

With a little shame I phoned down to reception and asked if a late checkout would be possible and to Hilton’s credit they obliged – pushing back checkout to 1pm which gave me time to wash up, throw my things together and not have to rush myself out of the hotel.

Suomenlinna though, damn! Did I still have enough time to make a ferry trip there and back? Maybe..
However would it be worthwhile? Probably not. I was really keen to visit. It was one of the attractions / landmarks I was particularly excited to explore but I also didn’t want to go for the sake of it. From what I’d read it’s somewhere you could easily make a day-long trip out of and I didn’t want to rush there and back for such little time. Next time Finland, next time..

I accepted that my morning was a write off. Truth be told I accepted that my afternoon was a write off too and so what? In my heart I knew that Helsinki and Finland was never going to be a one-time visit. Without any real logic, I adored this city. I knew I’d be back someday and that was enough for me to know I didn’t need to rush around Helsinki with my final few hours.

I left my hotel, crossed the water, and wandered back towards Helsinki’s cathedral square. I don’t think I could ever tire of looking up at that cathedral and needed at least one last glimpse before saying goodbye to the city.

Having missed any hope of breakfast I figured my first stop of the day should probably be some lunch and stumbled upon a nearby restaurant that did the trick. In hindsight this was a mistake and an oversight on my part. There was nothing wrong with the restaurant I stumbled in to, nor the food that I enjoyed but I was then a bit too full for my next stop.

After a nice lunch I decided I’d walk on down to market square which is situated just down by the harbour where the ferries whisk you off to islands such as Suomenlinna or even the likes of Tallinn in Estonia which is a must for a future visit to Finland.

Anyway market square is full of, you guessed it, little market stalls selling bits and pieces including a few food stalls selling delicacies such as meatballs. More specifically reindeer meatballs! I was tempted to give them a try but I had only just eaten and was far too full for anything else. It was foolish in hindsight and I should have just grabbed my lunch here rather than go to whatever restaurant.

Skipping the reindeer meatballs on this occasion, I had a look through some of the other stalls before picking up some postcards to take home with me. Further along the road was Uspenski’s cathedral, a sauna by the water and Helsinki’s ferris wheel which I’d inexplicably missed when in the area yesterday.

I considered going up the ferris wheel but thought better of it. “Maybe next time” seemingly the motto of this entire trip. I was a little conscious of time and figured there wasn’t long enough left in Helsinki for me to do anything particularly exciting.

On the way down to Market Square I’d passed a brewery which ironically I’d considered for food the previous evening. The only reason I didn’t come this way was because I’d considered it too far away to walk (it seemingly wasn’t) and and figured I’d make that my last stop of my trip. Time for one beer before making my slow return to Helsinki’s airport.

It was a nice little place, very quiet but you’d expect that on a Monday afternoon. I was glad that I’d popped in for one. Like many a trip I sat there wondering how I could possibly delay the inevitable. Ridiculously I was returning to England for less than 24 hours as on Tuesday evening I’d be boarding a bus heading for Amsterdam. So it didn’t even really feel like I was going home but nevertheless there was a big part of me not ready to leave Finland just yet.

Just one more night, one more hour, one more beer..

I reluctantly left and started the slow walk back to the train station. Glorious blue skies still hovering above me and “rush-hour” commuters beginning to fill the roads and streets of the city on their way home from work.

I arrived at the main square outside the station from a new direction and stumbled upon a sign reading “My Helsinki” which is undoubtedly one of those “for the gram” type signs but perfectly summed up how I felt about this place – my Helsinki.

I’d loved Finland for as long as I could remember but now I really loved Finland. From an outsider’s perspective there wasn’t really anything special about this trip. Removing the Finland-tinted specs (“NEVER! “) I don’t know where Helsinki would truly rank as a destination but I connected with it instantly and it was apparent that this trip was more overdue than I’d ever really appreciated.

I bought my train ticket back to the airport and waved goodbye to the sunshine of Helsinki. There were no nursery rhymes for the return journey and instead a train full of people heading home but somehow that was equally satisfying and magic in its own way – surrounded by citizens of my second home. A home I’d only visited the once but a place I easily felt at home nonetheless.

Back at the airport I made sure to make good on a promise to bring home Finnish goodies. I’d been encouraged to bring home ‘Fazer’ chocolate and salty liquorice which brought back nostalgia of trips past for my dad and those my grandmother had made whilst still here with us. I couldn’t recall having tried either but easily found some within the airport to take home with me.

I also stumbled upon a little Moomin store and was keen to take something home as a personal memento. I’m typically not a souvenir kind of collector but this trip more than most I wanted something to mark my first trip to Finland – a Moomin mug did the trick!

From there I was keen to grab some dinner before getting the late night flight back to England. The airport felt deserted, I’m sure it wasn’t but again feelings of “this is such a lovely airport” ran through me. A farcry from the hellish airports of England such as Stansted which I frequent but loathe in equal measure.

Despite being an international airport, Helsinki’s had a calmness to it and unsurprisingly I had a number of tables to choose from at the restaurant I’d decided upon – “sit anywhere you like..”

Feeling a bit more peckish by this point I looked at the reindeer burger on the menu and was tempted to order it but also considered that if ‘Reindeer’ didn’t quite agree with me it could be an uncomfortable flight home. I settled for an ordinary, expensive burger and chalked the reindeer down as a “maybe next time..” experience. Rudolph would at the very least make it to this coming Christmas.

and that was that. The long overdue visit to Finland was done and dusted. I’d longed to visit the home country of my grandma and now I could finally (or Finn-ally, ha ha!) say that I had!

In the days leading up to this trip it really hit me that I was visiting this mythical land and I was SO nervous ahead of this adventure. Nobody really talks about what happens when your dream destination doesn’t live up to expectation. Maybe it’s actually best you don’t visit and leave the dream intact? Fortunately that wasn’t a problem here.

I’d loved Finland my whole life and left the country loving it even more than I thought imaginable. Going back one day is inevitable. “Next time” to see more than just Helsinki too. I’ve barely scratched the surface with the country and I’m itching for more. I haven’t entirely ruled out returning in 2023.

Take me to Turku and Tampere, Oulu and Kuopio, Lappenranta and Lapland. Take me across the water to Tallinn or across the border to St Petersburg (maybe not too soon on that one..).

I’m guilty of romanticising many places that I’ve visited but I make no apologies for doing so with Finland. It was a special trip, immediately followed by another special trip to Amsterdam and so a week that will take some topping in my lifetime.

Finland was the start of a magical few days, Amsterdam was an unbelievable experience and two weeks later I’d be on my way to Dublin!

Or would I?

Helsinki: part one (May 2019)

Hello dear readers! Last time out on the blog I gave you a little introduction for my very first trip to Finland! I’ll pick up where that post finished so if you missed it, go give it a read!

Anyway, a rather nervous Jason had left Heathrow and was Helsinki-bound! My grandmother was Finnish, I’ve always had a love for all things Finland-related and I was worried that this mythical country that I’d built up in my head might not actually be as perfect as I’d believed it to be. I was desperate for Finland to deliver and be a place I adored.

It was nice flying with a new airline – flying with Finnair for the first time. I’d bagged a window seat too which meant I could enjoy the view as we began our descent in to Helsinki. The thing that really struck me from above was just how green Finland is. I don’t know what I’d really expected but Finland looked so pretty from the sky.

With the benefit of hindsight I don’t know what all the pre-departure fuss was about. We arrived in Helsinki and I’d seemingly remembered to pack my Finland-tinted glasses that made everything seem lovelier than is probably actually the case.

I arrived and straight away was raving about rather minuscule and insignificant details – “Helsinki’s airport is so nice..”

I hadn’t even left the airport and I was already swooning over Finland, insistent that this was one of the nicest airports I’d ever been to. So clean and spacious and modern before arriving at the security gates and making my exit.

A quick scan of the passport and I was officially into the country! From there I wandered on over to the airport’s train station. The staff at the station were very helpful and seemingly happy to help with any queries – although the ticket machines were pretty straight forward (English available) and it wasn’t long before I was boarding a train to central Helsinki. First impressions were promising.

I found a seat on the train and just to my left was this little girl sat up by the window and singing what sounded like a nursery rhyme with her dad. A precious, magical, beautiful moment. Use whatever adjective you like but I was smitten already – it sounded angelic despite understanding none of the lyrics.

Our lovely train ride ended at Helsinki’s main train station. We all departed and, to my shock, white stuff was suddenly falling from the sky.

Snow!? There had been no mention of snow in the forecast before the trip, I wasn’t anticipating snow whatsoever. Certainly not in May but this is Finland, this was Disneyland to me! Of course it’s snowing! What a perfect arrival!

I was now convinced that Finland was a land of magic and fairytales! A land of nursery rhymes and snow, home to the likes of Santa and ~~unicorns~~ reindeers.

I don’t think the Finland-tinted-specs ever came off over the remainder of the weekend. If you’re hoping for some objective opinions on Finland I’m probably not the best person to ask – I couldn’t find fault with it.

“Look at that ominous black hole in the middle of the street. I’ve never seen anything like that on my travels! Isn’t Finland wonderful!?”

I’d arrived to nursery rhymes and snow. After genuine fear I’d not like Finland at all, I’d been won over instantly. I’d arrived in a land that I’d known all my life and yet oddly felt like I’d come home. I can’t explain it. I’d never been here before but somehow I felt at ease in Helsinki, almost like part of me belonged here.

Looking back I don’t know if Finland is actually that amazing. If you’re reading this and thinking “damn, I need to book a trip to Finland ASAP” then prepare to be underwhelmed because I can’t say what it’s like for people without the emotional attachment I had. Perhaps I didn’t ever even see the real Finland but I refuse to believe it was anything other than perfect. The magic and emotions had swept over me and consumed me for the remainder of the weekend.

I left the train station in disbelief that I’d actually arrived to snow. If I could have asked for any weather scenario to have arrived into the country this would have been it and I immediately grabbed a photo as some sort of photographic memory to mark the moment – magical!

I think it’s fascinating how much my mental state has an impact on a destination. The first impression goes a long way towards that.

I liken it to Nashville, I stepped off the bus in downtown Nashville and immediately heard music from somewhere and knew that “Music City” was somewhere I was going to love. In contrast it took me a long time to warm up to New Orleans because my first impressions of the city weren’t great. Skyscrapers, casinos and huge shopping malls in the heart of New Orleans was not at all what I was expecting before the trip.

In contrast I think my mood as soon as I’d arrived in Helsinki was so pro-Finland that I was never not going to enjoy this trip. I walked away from Helsinki’s train station aimlessly – nowhere to go, nowhere to be but without a care in the world.

Rather than remain wrapped up nice and warm I whipped my hat off, keen to feel the snow falling and I was bliss. You might be pondering if snow in Finland is somehow different to snow anywhere else in the world and no, I suppose it isn’t but common sense went out of the window and feeling it fall rather than retreating to somewhere warm seemed the only logical option. I spent the next half an hour or so just wandering aimlessly in the cold – “let’s go explore in this direction!”

My first real glimpse of Helsinki saw me pass the national museum of Finland before walking through a couple of parks, perfectly content getting lost in the city before trying to find my bearings.

Nevertheless, it was pretty cold so after a bit of time walking with no real purpose I decided I should probably figure out where I now was in relation to where my hotel was. After a quick look at Google Maps I realised I’d wandered off in the opposite direction of where I actually wanted to be so I did a U-Turn and headed back in a vague direction of the Kallio neighbourhood that I was staying in.

It was still a bit too early to check in to my hotel so I figured I’d try and find a spot for lunch on the way. I hadn’t intended for my first meal in Finland to be something foreign, infact I wasn’t really intending to visit this restaurant at all this weekend but by coincidence I happened to stumble upon Helsinki’s Hard Rock Cafe (HRC) and took it as a sign to pop in.

Long time followers will know that I’ve visited a few HRC’s on my travels and it was nice to tick another of their restaurants off of my list. There was still plenty of time for more local delicacies before leaving Finland, right?

I surprisingly found that Finland wasn’t as expensive as I was expecting. Perhaps all the talk of it being expensive had me well prepared for the cost of things but I didn’t find it overly extortionate. More distressing was that I ordered a meal and a drink and my beer arrived with a chunk of it missing! The head of the beer had seemingly disappeared and rather than top it up I was short-changed in to 90% of the glass containing beer. Can I not have a full pint please?

I figured it was just how things are here but that was the only real disappointment of the visit. I had a seat by the window and a nice view, a nice atmosphere and enjoyed my lunch before heading back out in to the cold.

I still didn’t quite have my bearings with Helsinki. I’m sure there was a more direct route to the hotel from the restaurant so I unintentionally ended up taking the more long-winded route which took me via Helsinki’s gorgeous cathedral – towering over the square.

I don’t know if this is again just Finnish bias flowing through me but I love it. It is a stunning bit of architecture and easily one of my favourite buildings that I’ve seen anywhere on my travels. A cathedral to rival the likes of St Paul’s in London, Florence’s Duomo & the Sacre Couer in Paris which are some of my other favourites that I’ve seen in the flesh. Plus Peterborough’s too of course!

Admittedly there’d been snow and it was cold but being a Saturday I was quite surprised at how quiet the cathedral square was. It’s a pretty large square but I had it near enough to myself and could only admire the cathedral in all its glory. Make a mental note I thought – “I’ll definitely be coming back here!”

I continued onwards to my hotel – I was staying in a Hilton just by the water in the neighbourhood of Kallio. The location was excellent and it was a nice hotel to base myself for the next couple of nights.

I didn’t do an awful lot with the rest of my evening. I mostly used it as an opportunity to find my bearings in the city, get some dinner and have a fairly early night. I was quite keen to get a good sleep and then an early rise the next morning.

I kicked off my Sunday morning with a little wander by the water. Yesterday’s snow was a distant memory and I’d woken up to glorious blue skies, it was still a little cold but much better weather for exploring the city.

I was keen to go and find somewhere to get some breakfast so strayed from the water and back up towards the Kallio area. The first thing that really caught my eye was the the Kallion Kirkko (church of Kallio). It was an interesting looking building so I was intrigued and headed in that direction.

It’s a beautiful building and the front of it, I thought, was so unique. I decided I’d grab some food before paying a visit and found a small Russian restaurant just across the street which seemed ideal. The woman, who I presumed to be the owner, spoke pretty much no English which was a nice novelty. Although my Finnish was little better (I knew a few words at the time) and even less Russian so I had to hope I’d communicated well enough to order what I’d like!

It was a nice place and I grabbed a seat by the window to admire the view. The service was nice enough. Unfortunately the restaurant in question doesn’t look to be there any more, I was hoping to name-drop it here but Google suggests it’s now a sushi restaurant so I guess it either closed down or moved elsewhere. Shame as I’m sure it was a popular breakfast spot before church.

After finishing breakfast my plans were to do just that – have a look around the church. Unfortunately it appeared to be closed. Reflecting back I’m not sure that actually was the case, it was a Sunday after all and Google suggests that they would have been open. Perhaps my limited Finnish misled me (I vaguely recall reading a sign that turned me away) or perhaps they were already in service and had closed their doors temporarily but something convinced me they were closed and so I wandered off back down towards the water.

To be honest I didn’t really have any sort of plan for my entire time in Helsinki. This was very much a “wing it” kind of trip in the end. One of my fellow bloggers, Marion, is also a Finland enthusiast so I’d read a good 30-odd posts on Finland before my trip that really whet the appetite and gave me so many ideas and so much inspiration that then remarkably saw me have nothing planned in the end.

I think I was so content just to have finally visited Finland that I wasn’t really too concerned about how I spent my time. I wanted to see a few things but mostly I just wanted to be here in Finland, getting a little glimpse of life in Helsinki and retracing the same steps my grandmother had likely stepped growing up.

I left Kallio with no direction or plan, pondering where to go next. I started wandering back towards the heart of Helsinki, over the bridge and across the water before changing my mind and pondering whether a trip to Linnanmäki theme park might actually be a better way of spending my morning.

It’s a little unique for a theme park to be so close to the city and I recall Marion mentioning that there is no admission fee. If you wish to ride anything there is a charge but you can wander around the grounds for free and I pondered how many places you could do such a thing. I wanted to see the sights and such in Helsinki but I was also really interested in seeing Finns in their natural element – how many locals spend their weekend at an amusement park on a nice sunny day? Linnanmäki opened in 1950 and I thought about how many times my grandma or her family had possibly stepped foot in the park.

Finally a plan of action! Following in the footsteps of many a Finn of the last 70 years! There are easier and quicker ways to get to Linnanmäki I’m sure but given it was a nice sunny day I decided to walk. I enjoy walking when I travel – a great way to familiarise yourself with your surroundings and also see more of a city.

I kicked things off with a walk through Kaisaniemen Puisto (or Kaisaniemi park) where I stumbled upon Kaisaniemi’s Botanical Gardens. I don’t think it’s somewhere you’d feel a need to go out of your way for but it was nice to have a little wander through before continuing my journey.

The rest of the walk took me parallel with the train tracks and through other park and forested areas. Despite not being very far from the city at all it felt very remote and peaceful. Along the way I encountered a few pretty villas and other buildings that I’m sure make a nice retreat from the city – not that Helsinki felt particularly hectic in comparison to other big cities or capital cities.

Again, I’m not sure that my explorations took me via the most direct route to the amusement park because after a bit of walking I came across Helsinki’s Olympic Stadium – an unexpected encounter.

I might have been tempted by a stadium tour but unfortunately the stadium was closed for renovations at the time. It has since re-opened but I had to settle for admiring it from the outside. Perhaps I just approached it from an unnatural direction but it did take me by surprise in comparison to other Olympic stadiums that I’ve come across. The last thing you’re expecting to find after a walk through the woods is a stadium pop out of nowhere.

After an odd detour I followed the last stretch of forested area towards Linnanmäki which took me through an underpass of sorts with interesting artwork before an uphill climb to the amusement park.

As I drew closer one thing that really struck me was just how quiet it was. It made me unsure that I was heading in the right direction. I don’t think it’s a particularly walk-friendly park to get to and I don’t think I’d taken the most direct of routes but there was so few people around that it still took me by surprise. Perhaps people take public transport or drive to the park but it was unnerving.

A little climb and a few minutes later I realised why – the park was closed! It wasn’t really apparent why but the sign read that they were closed until the afternoon which meant I’d struck out twice already this morning. Two sights or attractions visited and thwarted by both – the “wing it” plan was coming back to bite me.

Had I had a shorter wait I might have hung around but I had a good bit of time and there’s not really anything nearby so I abandoned my morning plans and ventured back in to town.

Fortunately it was a nice day at least. My morning had been a bit of a bust so far but exploring in the Helsinki sunshine made up for it a little bit. I walked back towards the heart of the city with the cathedral in my sights.

Despite the bright blue skies Helsinki still felt pretty quiet, the cathedral square was a little busier than the day before but not much moreso. Where are the tourists at!? Helsinki was peaceful.

I had a look around the cathedral before heading on over to the waterfront where another cathedral stood – the Uspenski Cathedral. Incidentally, Wikipedia claims this is the largest orthodox church in Western Europe which I find a fascinating claim.

“Western Europe..” – as far as Europe is concerned you can’t go too much further East than Helsinki, it’s not much more West than Istanbul! Where does Eastern Europe begin if we’re throwing Helsinki in to the Western side? Given how far to the North Finland is I don’t think of Finland in the same sense as many Eastern Europe countries but Western Europe, really?

Anyway, Uspenski Cathedral sits in a picturesque spot right by the water. It’s free to visit so I popped my head in and looked around.

Ironic given its claim but I found its interior to actually be pretty small, I don’t think all of the church is accessible to the public which is why but truthfully I doubt that there’s a religious site that I’ve spent less time in than this one. Its interior is pretty but quite a limited space and I don’t think I’d have missed anything had I just skipped a visit and admired its exterior. It is free so I won’t discourage you from visiting but with nowhere to really go or wander I was in and out of there pretty quickly, retreating back out in to the Helsinki sunshine.

I grabbed some lunch somewhere close by and pondered what to do next. I swung back by the main cathedral’s square and decided to jump on a bus for a tour of the city.

Technically it was a hop-on, hop-off bus but I decided to just do a full loop of the bus journey. It’s actually quite rare that I do these kind of tours, I usually just walk everywhere when I travel so it was a nice change of pace and allowed me to just sit back and take in the scenery. I had a vague plan for my final day in the city but hoped the tour might offer a little more inspiration on what to do tomorrow.

Included within the tour was a recorded audio guide which actually ended up being really good – the right dose of information and humour that made me chuckle a few times along the way. I dare say one of the best audio guides I’ve listened to on such a tour but you know, those Finland goggles right? Or I suppose headphones in this case?

From start to finish the tour takes around 90 minutes so you do get to see quite a sizeable amount of Helsinki. Some of the landmarks and architecture were pretty cool to look at and I pinpointed a few sights to try and return to before saying goodbye to Helsinki.

Feeling a little more content that I’d seen some of Helsinki my attention turned towards evening plans. I hadn’t really done much on my first night so I was keen to go and enjoy a night out in Helsinki. Good food, a few beers, what could go wrong?

Madrid – May / June 2019

Hello dear readers! I hope all is well with you? I thought that I’d get back to writing about some travel.

I have written about football-related travels many times on the blog but this? This is a post I never in my lifetime thought that I’d be writing about.

I was listening to an episode of The Travel Architect’s podcast recently and the “travel quiz” on this particular episode revolved around the concept that people travel locally, nationally and internationally to watch sports or any event really at “bucketlist” venues – I am one of those people.

My love of football is no secret, I’ve been obsessed with the sport for as long as I can remember. Football is the biggest sport in England – by some distance. Football is the biggest sport in the world even and I’ve heard it nicknamed the “global language” – regardless of your native language, everyone understands football.

I think that’s particularly true for myself. I’m an introverted person, I’m quiet but that was multiplied tenfold as a child. I was so shy and so reserved but football was my comfort zone, I understood football and if we had a mutual love for the game it made it infinitely easier to connect with you. It was an easy bonding subject I suppose.

As a kid I just immersed myself in to all things football. To this day it’s probably the only passion I have that exceeds travel. I love and loathe it in equal measure, it infuriates me like nothing else can but the highs of the game are unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.

It didn’t matter what it was growing up. I could be playing football in the streets from dawn ’til dusk, collecting football stickers for the latest Premier League sticker album, reading Match magazine every single week or watching football on the telly. Playing computer games such as Championship Manager (“move aside Gerry Francis.. I’m taking Spurs to the lofty heights of the UEFA Cup!”), reading football-books.. whatever it was, I was obsessed!

I heard so many football stories from my dad’s youth – a very different time in football where tickets were more accessible and affordable. My dad would travel up and down the country with his mates and even experience the occasional foray in to Europe for the ultimate “away day” experience – hearing stories of Spurs in Belgium and UEFA Cup glory in 1984 was something I was so envious of for such a long, long time.

My dad’s “heyday” came and went. Marriage and kids and responsibilities followed and my dad had to stop going. Football became too expensive and required too much sacrifice to follow with the same frequency – sadly resigned to a life of “armchair football” but he still had enough love for it to pass on the reigns to his son. We’ll not give too much mention to the rebel Arsenal-supporting daughter! – “Why haven’t you disowned her dad?”

I loved football so much but my dad couldn’t afford to take us regularly if at all, it’s an expensive day out but my love for it was unrivalled. Growing up I’d firstly dream of playing on the biggest stage, playing for Spurs, winning the FA Cup and once the realisation kicked in that I’d never be good enough to achieve that, my hopes turned to my “idols” achieving that success on my behalf.

I wanted to see Spurs win an FA Cup (I still haven’t!), I wanted to see Spurs in Europe. Even as a deluded, hopeful child you’d never dream of Premier League or Champions League glory for little ol’ Spurs – that was beyond our limitations but just give me something to remember. Give me something to match up to those stories my dad has from the late 70’s and 80’s.

Year after year I’d witness disappointment after disappointment. I still haven’t forgiven Shearer for breaking my heart in the FA Cup semi final in `1999. Likewise I have held a bitter resentment against Germans, Kaiserlautern, for ending my sole European memory of Spurs far earlier than I was prepared for. Just the one European excursion in my pitiful Spurs-supporting memory – my dad’s fairytale stories are all a lie!

Jokes aside, I dreamt of football on the biggest stage – imagine going to watch Spurs in Europe or England at a World Cup. My dad went to France in 1998 and I watched on again, envious albeit ultimately with similar feelings of disappointment and heartbreak following another painful England World Cup defeat.

My school years were particularly painful, arguably Spurs worst era and similarly coinciding with the years (92-04) I was most susceptible to teasing from my peers.

I left school and typically Spurs fortunes changed. More importantly though, I left school. I was now of working age – the financial limitations my father had had, I did not. I had no responsibility and despite taking a weekend job in a supermarket I was finally free to spend my ~~hard~~-earned cash as I pleased – going to the football regularly.

I remember little of the first time my dad took me to White Hart Lane but I remember running up those steps and seeing that pitch for the first time – “wow!” – you dream about it but I don’t think that first time can ever disappoint. It’s Disneyland levels of magical – now that I was working I could finally come as often as I wanted.

Better yet, Spurs were improving on the pitch! In 2006, at 18 years old, I finally got to watch my beloved Spurs participate in a European competition – in the flesh! Tottenham vs Slavia Prague in London. A “glory, glory” European night under the famous lights of White Hart Lane!

The allure of European football, playing on the continent in places you have and haven’t heard of, has always mesmerised me. You read blog posts about the hidden gems of Europe – “secret off-the-beaten-path cities no-one has heard of” and it’s like mate, you underestimate the obscure places across the world that football fans know about because of some random football team that play there.

Going back to that previously mentioned podcast.. My love for European football in particular always came with an “I’d love to play there..” wish before materialising in to the “I’d love to watch a game there” dream instead.

There were and still are so many football experiences I’d love to witness one day – famous football stadiums, famous football matches and rivalries, famous football tournaments that would be incredible to see live.

Primarily I want those football experiences with Spurs of course but some aren’t possible and others aren’t realistic. I can’t watch Spurs in a World Cup but I’d still love to attend a World Cup one year – there’ll always be some regret that I didn’t go to Brazil in 2014.

It’s my dream to go and watch either domestic or international football in South America – Brazil and Argentina in particular as the footballing giants of the continent. It’s my dream to go and watch some of the big European rivalries, I have a list of football stadiums I’d like to visit before I die (or before they knock the stadium down!). I have so many football-bucketlist experiences to tick off!

European football again obviously holds a lot of those experiences and I never thought I’d see them with Spurs if I’m being honest. That Champions League anthem is mesmerising but I never really believed growing up that I’d watch Spurs participate in the competition, let alone multiple times as I’ve been fortunate to do. I never thought visiting the likes of the Camp Nou, San Siro, Bernabeu, WestfalenStadion or others would ever be possible.

After finally being able to go to home games regularly I attended my first Tottenham away game in 2008 – Spurs at Villa Park in Birmingham – what a historic, traditional stadium that is too. It’ll be a sad day should Aston Villa ever replace their stadium.

I went to multiple domestic away games over the years and then finally went to my first European away game in 2014 – Benfica of Lisbon, Portugal – one of Portugal’s biggest teams and a huge name in European football.

“Pinch me!”

It was “only” in Europe’s second-tier competition, the Europa League (UEFA Cup) but still – watching Spurs in Europe? “This is the dream!”

Since that first European outing I’ve watched football in a number of countries and even in that elusive Champions League competition I thought beyond little ol’ Spurs and then ‘here’ we are – June 2019.

I kind of knew, much like my father 30 years ago, that my footballing days were coming to an end. I’ve had this nagging feeling about a different lifestyle, different priorities and different responsibilities that suggested I’d have to “hang up my boots” so to speak.

It wasn’t necessarily imminent but I knew it wasn’t far away and so I went in to 2019 with the mentality that the next European outing, this, could be my last ever European away game with Spurs. I wrote that blog post knowing I was bowing out soon – I just wanted one final away European away game and “anywhere but Dortmund”.

Ironically Dortmund was one of those stadiums I never thought I’d see Tottenham play at – one of Europe’s most famous football venues and undoubtedly fitting of any worthwhile football bucketlist – home to the famous “yellow wall” of Borussia Dortmund.

Tottenham were drawn to play Dortmund in March 2016 and I’d literally only just come home from Georgia at the end of Feb and I was booking flights – I did not give a shit about work, I was not missing a “once in a lifetime” trip to Dortmund.

Seven months later we were back in West Germany in nearby Leverkusen and then in November 2017 we returned to Dortmund again! On that occasion I saw Spurs win but twice was plenty – there’s no other reason to visit Dortmund!

So faced with the possibility of a third “once in a lifetime” trip to Dortmund – I was praying to the football gods for some mercy and to send me anywhere else. My prayers fell on deaf ears: Tottenham Hotspur vs Borussia Dortmund – March 2019.

There were no guarantees of progress, no guarantees of more European games. This could be my last and only opportunity so reluctantly, back to West Germany for the fourth football excursion in three years. Spurs typically won comfortably which resulted in a Champions League quarter final against fellow English side, Manchester City.

Unbelievably Spurs succeeded and set up a first Champions League (European Cup) semi final appearance in 57 years – Tottenham vs Ajax – giants of Dutch and European football – “pinch me!”

Next up Amsterdam – with a touch of irony perhaps. Spurs have offered so many disappointments over the years. Typically I’m on the verge of packing it in altogether and Spurs decide this is the year for a cup run in Europe? “Thanks Tottenham..”

Amsterdam was not in the budget for the year but of course I had to go, hoping that Tottenham may well just go one step better than they did in 1962 and incredibly they did – a first Champions League (European Cup) final appearance in their 137 year history!

and so this is where this story begins!

“Begins? Jason, you’ve already written a novel!”

I know, I know but what’s a story without a little context?

I was ready to pack it in, just one final European outing. I’d budgeted the first six months of the year perfectly so that I could think about next steps with Haleigh. This was the supposed to be me winding down as far as the football was concerned but Spurs said “sod that, we were your first love!”

A Champions League final was an “at all costs” trip and boy was it. There was no scenario in which I wasn’t going to Madrid, with or without a ticket for the game, but I genuinely had no idea how I was going to make the logistics of this work.

As if the trip wasn’t expensive enough anyway, Tottenham’s European fate had been sealed on that memorable Wednesday night in Amsterdam. 24 hours earlier our opponents Liverpool had sealed their own fate – we’d face English opposition in Madrid but more importantly that meant fellow English supporters and travelers that had been afforded a 24 hour head start.

Reports suggest 100,000 or so traveled from England to Madrid for this game. I don’t know how accurate that is. I don’t know if it was more – quite possibly but for my fellow experienced travelers, try and book that trip with three weeks notice on very specific dates and when a vast majority have had a head start on your travel planning -it’s bonkers!

The simplest solution (“hey, we’re selling flights to Madrid sat on Ryanair’s wing for only £450,000 one way”) was a no-go.

I was 100% going to Madrid but it was time to get creative. Where do I fly from? What are my options? What’s the alternative to flying to Madrid? Barcelona? Bilbao? Where? Would it be cheaper to not fly from England? Maybe I’ll go out to Dublin or Paris or Marrakech or anywhere else first!

It was a headache! I was still in Amsterdam at the time and pondered if I just should start walking to Madrid now! I shared my frustrations with my parents and knew it’d probably have to wait until I got home.

“Your dad’s thinking of driving..”

Wait, what!!? Dad’s contemplating popping out of “retirement” for this one? Wow! I mean it probably shouldn’t have shocked me, this is big after all but still, my dad didn’t even own a passport at the time.

That said, anyone who was anyone was going to this. I think it was about Liverpool’s 408th Champions League final in 20 years and they’ve been to one more since then too but for Spurs? This doesn’t happen to the likes of us – a genuine “once in a lifetime!” experience.

I know it’s a case of being privileged and having the luxury of football as a priority in your life that you can do a trip such as this but it still surprises me that any Spurs fan missed this.

If you have to sell an organ or that Arsenal supporting sibling, do it! A family friend of ours flew over from his home in Australia to be in Madrid because this was the big one! Admittedly his journey may well still have been cheaper than any flight from England going to Madrid but he knew how important it was, I knew that I had to go and my dad likewise – a first Father-Son European away game!

My dad drove! A European road trip from Peterborough, England to Madrid, Spain. Another friend of my dad’s footballing days joined us for the roadtrip, quite surreal how much of the old gang had come out of obscurity for this one – I’d never met Lloyd before and I don’t think my dad had seen him in decades either but a trip worthy of a reunion!

The match was on Saturday, we left England after work on Thursday and intended to drive back on Sunday so this was as quick and as budget-friendly as such a trip would allow – sharing fuel and accommodation costs between us.

We left work on Thursday and headed for Dover where we’d be picking up Lloyd and more importantly, catching the late-night / early-morning ferry over to France. I can’t recall what time it was but let’s just say it was dark in the crossing.

I was a little apprehensive about taking the ferry. It makes me a little cautious about ever booking a cruise too, I get a little seasick I guess and I felt so rough coming back from Amsterdam three weeks earlier which was weighing on my mind a little bit.

Nevertheless we had a beer on board and kicked off the trip of a lifetime in style. The rest of the ferry was packed with football fans, predominantly Liverpool fans but two sets of supporters all in good spirit – all ready for the big game on Saturday!

We arrived in France early Friday morning and was able to catch the sun coming up over the country – being the end of May it was particularly nice and came up quite early.

The trip made me feel quite nostalgic. We’d take the occasional family daytrip to France when we lived in London and I also visited Spain on a coach-trip with school that no doubt took a much similar route that we did for this trip.

I remember nothing of France from those trips other than stopping at service stations and such in random places. For a long time I didn’t really feel like I’d really been to France. It was only after visiting Paris and Lille that I felt like I’d actually been to France and started falling in love with it. Lille was particularly nice visiting France in the summer and getting to see what the fuss was about. Up until then I’d never really got the fuss about France.

We were on the road for a good few hours on France, stopping occasionally for a food break and chance to visit the grand service stations of the country – feeling very nostalgic for the France I remember from my youth!

Mid-afternoon we arrived in our stop for the night. We didn’t want to do the full drive on Friday so agreed to stop somewhere on route – I’d had a little read on options and suggested Bayonne / Biarritz might be a good choice. So we booked a little budget backpackers hotel in Bayonne for one night – it was very basic. Tucked away in the middle of nowhere really and more dorm-like accommodation but perfect for one night – we had no problems with it.

We dropped off our things and decided we’d go and spend the rest of the afternoon at the coast. We got back in the car and headed for nearby Biarritz.

This was meant to be a whistle-stop one-nighter so none of us were that bothered about where we stayed, we hadn’t done any real research about what to do or what to expect from the area. More than anything it was a good base for us to then hit the road again in the morning.

So Biarritz took all of us by surprise – it is stunning! We stepped out of the car and I was blown away by its beauty. This is why people rave about the South of France!

The sun was shining, the water was gorgeous and it felt so relaxed. Biarritz were actually hosting the ‘World Longboard Surfing Championship’ this week but it seemed like we’d missed any of the major activity of the day. There were still a few people out in the water but it was so peaceful.

We found a little outside bar to pick up some beers and just sat by the water mesmerised. It’s so easy to glamourise travel places but this felt like paradise. The only disappointment was the reality that we were only here for one night. Part of me sat there, looking out to the water and thinking can’t we just sack off Madrid?

I’d been to Madrid before (and LOVED it), let’s find a bar for the game tomorrow and stay here ~~forever.~~ Why are we leaving this place so soon?

We enjoyed the views a little longer but didn’t hang around for particularly long. We got back in the car and returned to Bayonne, which also looked nice from the little we saw of it, before finding a place to grab some dinner near our hotel. We were pretty close to Spain by this point but still had a few hours drive ahead of us so were keen to get an early night and an early start in the morning.

On Saturday morning we woke up in eager anticipation of the day ahead. Champions League final day featuring Tottenham ~~fucking~~ Hotspur. This is actually happening!

Of course I was sad to be leaving the South of France, I am itching to return to Biarritz one day and also to explore more of the South of France because it had instantly won us over but nevertheless we had to go.

The drive over the border is gorgeous. As I said above, I’d done the school coachtrip to Spain before so this wasn’t of huge surprise to me but it was even prettier than I remember it being.

Even more Spurs and Liverpool fans were on the road by this point – all Madrid bound. We stopped off at more service stations along the way and picked up food for the morning to keep us going. Eventually we’d arrived in sunny, glorious Madrid.

I think Madrid is undoubtedly one of the best cities in Europe, I think I might go as far as saying it’s my favourite European city outside of London but on this occasion we weren’t here for the culture or anything else that Madrid has to offer. We found somewhere to park and headed straight for the dedicated fan-park hosting Spurs.

We picked up some beers and soaked up the building atmosphere. One of hope, one of optimism, one of disbelief. This fairytale-like story was one night away from reaching Hollywood. We’d been down and out so many times over the course of the season that there was this feeling of “it’s meant to be” and we just needed that movie-script ending to round it off.

Soon enough our family friend, Dave, had joined us. Coming all the way from ~~Australia~~ Barcelona, it was great to see him after a few years. I’ve seen him a few times over the years in England and we even met up a couple of times when I went to Sydney, now we were in our third country together and for a Champions League final! Had I mentioned that?

A little while later two more of the old gang, Dave number 2 and Mo, had come to join us for a little while too. A great opportunity for a reunion photo and a “we were there” moment.

Soon enough the fan-park closed. Dave 2 and Mo went their separate ways whilst the four of us went off in search for elsewhere to drink and hopefully a bar to watch the big game tonight.

We picked up a drunk stray from Aberdeen who’d seemingly lost his friends and tagged along with us for the night. We tried a couple of bars without much fortune – finding that they were either completely rammed with supporters or that they were completely empty because they had no TV to show the game. Eventually we had some fortune in a restaurant-ish kind of bar showing the game and selling beers which was all we really needed.

The day had been lovely. Everyone was in good spirits. I think there was a fear that with tens of thousands of Brits descending on Madrid that there’d be trouble. The Brits, and English in particular, don’t have the greatest reputation on the continent. Some of it is fully justified to be fair but on this occasion there was no need for such concern – everyone got along swimmingly. Now for the football..

All that build-up, all that anticipation and excitement? Minute one: Liverpool penalty – game over.

It still feels unfair, unjust even. I don’t think the decision will ever sit right with me and it just killed the game. Spurs huffed and puffed but without any real quality, it was probably one of the worst Champions League finals in truth but to have this grand occasion go like this so early in the game was and still is hard to accept.

I don’t know how much I ever really believed. I was always hopeful and had optimism, there was definitely fleeting moments of “we’re going to do this..” but Liverpool were of course the favourites for the game, favourites to win the trophy for the Nth time and so it proved.

As ever for Tottenham, no happy ending. No fairytale, no Hollywood movie to come. I can’t and won’t question the effort because we tried but even accepting we weren’t ever expected to be at this stage, it was no less painful. We huffed away and Liverpool hit us on the counter late on – an undeserved 2-0 in a game lacking any quality. We never deserved to win and perhaps it’s the bitterness talking but Liverpool were barely worthy winners themselves.

I walked out at 2-0 completely deflated. I needed to just walk somewhere for a bit. I had no interest in seeing the final whistle, no interest in seeing the trophy presentation. Who fucking cares?

We didn’t have accommodation for Saturday night. I think we’d made the decision to just find some kip in the car later on and then head out Sunday morning.

Nevertheless we hung out in Madrid for a bit after the game, mingling with a few people from the bar that we’d met. I dare say I wasn’t really present at all. Maybe its the years of experience supporting Spurs, maybe its the fact the other three have all tasted real Tottenham success but I think the other three took the defeat much better than myself.

I don’t know how any of them could find the energy to be sociable enough for chit-chat. In truth I just wanted to be as far from Madrid as possible. After maybe an hour we went and found a late-night joint for some cheap and greasy food. I’m not sure you’d necessarily associate Madrid as a good place for a kebab but it ticked the right boxes after a day of beer and football.

From there it was back to the car. Lloyd seemed to find the time to talk to every passing celebratory Scouser. To be fair to the Liverpool bunch, they were very gracious about it and complimentary of Spurs but I didn’t really find any consolation in it.

More to the point was that Lloyd was constantly stopping on our walk back to the car. I lost count of how many Liverpool fans we stopped for in the end – admittedly Lloyd was fairly drunk but I’m sure he was seeking them out – “just keep walking Lloyd, come on!”

My dad seemingly had much more patience than I did. Perhaps I needed to be a bit drunker myself but I wasn’t particularly interested in baby-sitting someone 20-30 years my senior, nor stopping for chirpy Scousers.

We said our goodbyes to Dave, wishing him well for the trip back down-under, and eventually got Lloyd back to the car having stopped for conversations with seemingly every single person in Madrid.

We slept on the outskirts of Madrid for a few hours kip before hitting the road again – determined to try and do it in a day and be back on a late-Sunday / early-Monday ferry back to England.

Sidenote and a word of warning for anyone that fancies doing this road-trip – the tolls aren’t particularly suited to back-seat passengers and dare I say drivers too! Lloyd seemed near-dead in the front seat and was completely passed out which left me on toll-duty as my dad drove and seemingly few seemed to fall on the actual drivers sides for some reason.

Maybe my memory is rusty but thinking back to it, I don’t know what you’re supposed to do if you’re a solo driver. A few tolls on I was an expert on the pay-process but it seems bizarre that that was the case. Perhaps manned toll booths on the right side of the road were closed because it was a Sunday and this was our only option? Who knows?

Anyway, we looked for somewhere to break up the drive once again and as tempting as it may have been to return to Biarritz we wanted to see somewhere different. Bordeaux seemed like an obvious choice but we opted to go to ‘La Rochelle’ instead, I figured I was more likely to visit Bordeaux one day and why not go somewhere else.

We struck out unfortunately. Perhaps we didn’t give it enough of a chance but for a flying visit, we certainly didn’t see the best of La Rochelle and wouldn’t necessarily be inspired to return. I’ve heard good things so I’d be inclined to go back and see if it could change my mind but it was barely a lunch spot for us and left no real impression.

We hit the road again pretty quickly and from there it was the odd service station on an otherwise uneventful drive. Lloyd eventually woke from his slumber, still feeling the effects of a heavy day of drinking. Having perked up a bit we grabbed some food and then made the gradual return to Calais, Dover and Peterborough respectively.

Reflecting on the trip as a three-parter makes it more special: Köln, Amsterdam, Madrid – wow!

It’s hard to detach from the finale, hard to detach from the pain of how it ended but when you take the whole experience in to account then I can only look back on it with fondness. Amsterdam was incredible, to follow that up with a Father-Son road-trip was particularly special and it’s a footballing-adventure I’ll remember for the rest of my life.

I’m gutted that this three-parter doesn’t get the Hollywood ending it deserves but hopefully you’ve enjoyed following along anyway. If this is to be my last football-inspired blog post and how I bow out of European football, what a way to do it!

Maybe there’ll be more European adventures to come, who knows? I’ve certainly cut back on the football this side of Covid and I’d be reluctant to go back to Dortmund for the 592nd time but watch this space I guess. There’ll almost certainly be a World Cup adventure in 2026 given that the USA are one of the host countries!

Anyway, time to wrap this up! Next time on the blog? No idea! Haha.

Stay tuned!

Jason

Amsterdam – May 2019

Hello dear readers!

Do you ever get those posts where you just can’t spit the right words out? It wasn’t my intention for this to be my next post but I was trying to write up part two of the Köln trip and it just wouldn’t come together. I enjoyed the trip but I’m just not enjoying writing about it.

So a change of plans, here’s Amsterdam!

Strangely though, you can still consider this to be somewhat of a ‘sequel’ to that Köln post. Between visiting Köln in March and visiting Amsterdam in early May I’d actually been to three different countries but this is still perhaps the “next chapter” of an unbelievable story.

I hinted at this in my last post but I knew back in 2019, maybe even earlier than that, that change was coming my way. I was feeling good about things with Haleigh and knew that at some point I really wanted to go out and live in the USA. There was no specific date in mind but “as soon as possible” was the aim.

The only thing that stopped me doing it any earlier was balance. I’ve always been quite sensible with money but I wasn’t willing to sacrifice my enjoyment just to get to my end goal a little bit earlier – balance was a must!

So I meticulously mapped out the first six months of 2019 (read me) knowing that come July I’d be in a healthy enough financial position to really think about what was next, without having to sacrifice any fun in the first six months of the year.

I calculated that I could squeeze in trips to Köln, Washington, Helsinki and Dublin in the first half of 2019 if I was strict enough with my spending but I’d left myself no wiggle room. That was it!

Enter Spurs..

I often joke that football supporters probably hate the game more than those who claim not to like football. The game is rotten in so many ways that infuriate you as someone who cares about the game and, many of those reasons are ultimately part of the reason why I’ve since walked away from the game and cut down on attending.

Anyway.. Köln was my way of bowing out of European football. I had this inkling that it’d probably be my last European football away trip for quite some time, maybe ever? My priorities were changing and so it was quite bittersweet that my big finale ended up being a third trip to Dortmund.
You can’t moan about traveling to Germany really. The last couple of years in particular make you appreciate the luxuries we have but moan I did – “fucking Dortmund!”

I’d told myself that this decision came down to how willing I was to gamble. I knew this was the last season I’d be likely to do this so it was either Dortmund in the last 16 or I’d have to gamble and hope we reach the quarter finals and get a better away trip in the next round.

However I knew that there were no guarantees. It could be Dortmund now or Barcelona in the next round, in contrast it could be Dortmund or nothing. There was every chance we’d crash out of European football and that’d be my plans shattered. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d made assumptions only for Tottenham to disappoint me.

This wasn’t one of those occasions. Tottenham comfortably beat Dortmund 3-0 in London and it looked like the tie was over before we’d even got to Germany – “are you kidding me Spurs!?”.

I still had some nerves for the return fixture in Dortmund but in reality, unless Tottenham did something very stupid (see why I was nervous!?) we were very likely to be in the next round. We finished off the job in Dortmund and so it turns out that I could have waited a round. I could have gambled!

They soon did the draw for the next round and I took some solace with the knowledge that our next opponents were none other than Manchester City. If I’d gambled away four nights in Europe and had to settle for a European trip to Manchester I would have been beyond gutted – the only fixture more anti-climatic than a trip to Dortmund – we play in Manchester at least twice a year already.

The other piece of comfort was that this draw meant that this was the end of the line for Spurs. This was going to be our last European games of the season and not a trip I was going to have any regrets about. Manchester City were, and still are, far superior to Tottenham and there’s only one possible outcome to this tie. Dortmund was a 50-50 tossup but City? No chance! 85-15 in City’s favour and that’s if they have a bad day.

I don’t want to overwhelm you with football chatter so if you haven’t worked out where this is going already, catch up!

Tottenham weren’t supposed to win this tie. There are a multitude of script-like factors that played a part but fate was with Spurs and they did in fact beat Manchester City – qualifying for the next round in the most spectacular fashion. Tottenham were off to the Champions League semi finals.

I’d told myself I wasn’t going to a semi final. It was never in consideration. There was no wiggle room in my budget for more than one football trip so it was always either the round of 16 (Dortmund) or gambling for a quarter final (Manchester). The only exception I would make in addition to that would be a trip to Madrid for the final and let’s be clear that is NEVER going to happen.

The semi final happened to overlap with my mum’s birthday and that was further cause to stick by my commitment. I travel a lot but it’s rare that I’d miss a family birthday – I have no responsibilities, I can travel any time of year and I don’t particularly mind missing my own birthday but let’s be at home for the others if we can help it, eh? So I’d have to miss this one.

“I’m not doing the semi final, I’m not doing the semi final. I’m.. fuck!”

This wasn’t supposed to happen! I mean you really couldn’t make it up. I’ll turn 34 this year and for the bulk of that time Tottenham have inflicted misery upon misery over me. I wouldn’t change it for anything but that’s the reality. So in typical Tottenham fashion, even when things are going well they find a way to completely inconvenient me.

I was ready to leave my job, ready to head off to Washington for a while and Spurs threw me a curveball. You couldn’t have done this in any of the previous ten years of European football Spurs?

“I’m not doing the semi final” was a lot easier to commit to when hypothetical but an actual Champions League semi final? The only other time Tottenham have played at that stage of the competition was 1962 – this was literally once in a lifetime stuff. How could I possibly not go to Amsterdam!?

My hesitancy cost me. It’s not a mistake I usually make. Football travel 101 – you book your travel as soon as you know the game is confirmed, worry about the accommodation later but when you’re competing with thousands of other people for the same journey you don’t hang about!

I’d stupidly kid myself that I wasn’t going to Amsterdam and I suffered for it. I slept on the decision for two days and by the time I came to my senses, flight prices and Eurostar journeys from London had gone through the roof. Amsterdam is normally pretty cheap to travel to from the UK but not when every other Spurs fan is planning the same journey on the same dates.

Even for a Champions League semi final, it was hard justifying some of the prices I was seeing. Do I really want to pay this much for this trip when I could go to Amsterdam a week later for a fraction of the cost – it’s so hard to justify but this may never happen again.

I compromised, I really couldn’t justify paying stupid prices for journeys way beyond their usual value so I looked at another alternative – how much and how long would a coach take?

Amsterdam wasn’t in the budget but I couldn’t miss it so took the budget-friendliest option I could. Overnight coach from London to Amsterdam, overnight coach from Amsterdam to London, one night in a hostel in Amsterdam – let’s do this!

I booked everything and then had to send an awkward email to work. I don’t know how many of you have been guilty of this but I was on holiday in Washington and having to send my manager an email to request time off for another holiday. “I know I’m away at the moment but..” – such cheek!

A couple of weeks passed by and it was time! This was quite possibly the most ludicrous weeks of my life because I came back from Washington and started getting excited about Finland – my bank holiday plans I’d made at the start of the year.

I flew home from Helsinki on bank holiday Monday, went to work on Tuesday and then on Tuesday evening I made my way down to London Victoria. I’d been in the country less than 24 hours before running off again – quite absurd!

I grabbed some dinner on route and then picked up a couple of other snacks for the journey – best get comfy for the next 12 hours!

I wasn’t sure how busy or comfortable the journey was going to be so was quite pleased to get a window seat for the journey – towards the back of the coach with “the cool kids”. It quickly became apparent that I wasn’t the only Spurs fan on board which was an added bonus. At least half a dozen around me were also making the budget trip to Amsterdam and feeling optimistic about our chances. We’d lost the first game 1-0 in London but all was still to play for in Amsterdam.

With a lot of football chatter it made sense to keep tabs on Tuesday night’s other semi final. Barcelona had beaten Liverpool 3-0 in Spain but playing at Anfield on a European night? You never know..

With Liverpool 1-0 up and all to play for in the second half, I managed to get the game up on my phone. Let’s see how this plays out, shall we?

Liverpool turned it around, from 3-0 down to 4-3 winners! Anfield’s magic had struck again and produced one of the greatest comebacks you’re ever going to see in European football. It gave the few of us some real optimism for Amsterdam. It’s only 1-0, this tie really isn’t over yet!

The football had helped pass some of the time. Soon enough we were at the channel crossing and ready to go to mainland Europe! I wasn’t sure how we’d be crossing and had assumed by ferry but as it turned out we went over via the channel tunnel – a railway shuttle service for vehicles.

By the time we’d crossed in to Europe the mood of the bus was vastly different. The early excitement of a football adventure had been swapped for opportunist sleepers, hoping to catch a bit of shuteye before the morning. I dozed a little myself but not too much as we made stop-offs in Antwerp, Eindhoven and Utretcht. Antwerp the city that perhaps most caught my eye from the little I could see at night-time.

We continued on through the Netherlands at a rapid pace. I don’t know if the coach drivers happened to be Tottenham fans themselvess but we arrived at our bus stop in a neighbourhood called Duivendrecht two and a half hours ahead of schedule – fantastic as far as I was concerned!

Fortunately I’d been to Amsterdam before so whilst I wasn’t so familiar with Duivendrecht itself, I knew roughly where I wanted to kick off my trip – Amsterdam Centraal station please!

Amsterdam at 6am is quite the sight, a treat even. I hate waking up early when I travel but I also love seeing a city before it has had the chance to properly wake up – a bit of a dilemma but this was an occasion where I had no choice. I didn’t have a comfy hotel bed to curl up in so my only option was to have a wander along Amsterdam’s deserted streets.

Amsterdam is a beautiful city to enjoy regardless but getting to see it with nobody around was that little bit more special. I know I’ll never see Dam Square this quiet again for instance.

I had nothing I particularly wanted to do with my time in Amsterdam, it was a short and sweet trip and most of it would be preoccupied with football. I wandered off and made the most of Amsterdam being so quiet, capturing a bunch of people-free photos as I wandered around.

With places actually starting to open I soon went and found myself a little Amsterdam cafe to sit and get some tea from. I had made plans to meet up with a couple of friends later in the day but I had the morning free to myself.

After a second cup of tea I meandered on over to Amsterdam’s ‘MuseumPlein’ – home to a park and some of Amsterdam’s most famous museums. It’s a pretty area so wasn’t an entirely wasted walk but it turns out that the likes of the Van Gogh Museum and Rijksmuseum were fully booked – it seems football fans aren’t completely uncultured hooligans and the thousands of Brits in town had had a knock-on effect.

I did some more wandering of Amsterdam’s canals before finding myself a place to grab some lunch. By the time I’d finished I was able to head over towards the hostel I was staying at for the night and check in. I’d stayed at Amsterdam’s Flying Pigs hostel before and although I don’t tend to stay in hostels as frequently anymore, for one night it seemed pretty ideal to be somewhere central and somewhere I also knew.

I checked in to my 6 bed dorm around 1ish and proceeded to find two near-dead Americans who weren’t able to rise from their beds and were still suffering a bit from the night before. They’d got caught up with the influx of Spurs fans in town on Tuesday night and seemingly suffered the hangover that followed. A couple of others sharing our dorm also turned up and we mingled about our various plans before I bid my farewell – extending an invitation or warning perhaps dependent upon your perspective.

“Dam Square..” – come join the party or avoid at all costs but either way it’s going to be busy and it’s going to be loud. I left my hostel dorm and I could hear Dam Square before I could see it – the English have arrived.

The beers were flowing, the Brits were serenading Amsterdam – Glory glory, Tottenham Hotspur. The rest of the afternoon was spent embracing the atmosphere and catching up with friends – Daniel and Natalie had also made the journey over to Amsterdam and so here we were in yet another country for Spurs.

Sadly this was one of the occasions where getting a ticket for the game was impossible. Nevertheless we wanted to be here, part of the atmosphere that only these European trips can offer – nothing can replicate the feeling of being amongst “your own”.

As kickoff approached Spurs fans scuttered off in various directions, not helped by the rain. We tried one pub on Dam Square which was rammed and had no luck getting in to. We ventured off down a side street and stumbled upon an Irish pub which seemed suitable enough for the evening. No idea where Natalie ended up, we somehow got separated and she ended up watching the game with another friend elsewhere.

By this point the nerves had kicked in, this was undoubtedly one of the biggest games in Tottenham’s history and please Spurs, just once eh?

BAM! Five minutes in and Ajax have scored to put them 1-0 up on the night and 2-0 up overall. That was not the start we wanted!

Time ticked on and Ajax have done it again, 2-0 up on the night and 3-0 ahead in the tie. I’ve had various and numerous Spurs disappointments over the years but is this really how this is going to play out? Our biggest game in my lifetime and we’re just going to crash out with a whimper? I don’t think I’ve ever been so angry at a Spurs team or performance. I’ve undoubtedly seen worse performances but on this stage it was unacceptable and indefensible. If we lose to Ajax then so be it, they’re a good team but at least do it the right way. At least give us a chance. Gutless, spineless, pathetic.

I considered getting up and going at half time. Let’s not pretend I can’t find a million other ways to actually enjoy my evening in Amsterdam. Something possessed me to stay, I dare say hope but in reality I must just enjoy the misery that comes with following Spurs. Why else let them put me through the ringer year after year, season after season, disappointment after disappointment?

“If Ajax score again I’m gone..” I say to Daniel. If we could just get one early goal in the second half, you just never know.

BAM! Lucas Moura! 2-1 on the night, 3-1 overall. The pub roars and for the first time there’s that glimmer of hope, just a small dash. Could we?

BAM! Four minutes later, Lucas Moura again! Beers go flying everywhere, this Tottenham dominated pub goes delirious. Belief for the very first time! Half an hour to go, only one goal needed, game on! The nerves have returned.

The next half an hour was agonising. So close and yet so far, every Ajax attack sent fear through my body, every missed opportunity for Spurs caused despair.

With a couple of minutes to go a cross comes in to the box, Vertonghen gets his head on it and..

~~BAM~~ crossbar. Argh! That was the chance! That had to go in!

Now this is typical Tottenham isn’t it? I was suddenly backtracking on my earlier hopes. This tie was dead and buried, Spurs had no chance but they couldn’t just leave it alone and allow me to suffer an embarrassing 12-0 defeat. No. It’d be much more fun to play like idiots for three halves of football, offer you that little bit of hope and then crush you in the finale.

Time ticked on and Ajax wasted every wasting second they could. Five minutes of injury time to play and another chance comes and goes. This is always the way with Spurs, it’s fucking cruel. So close and so far – no happy ending here.

Ajax waste more time and it seems like that is probably that. We get the ball back with seconds to go and boot a hopeful ball forward, we need a miracle. Hit and hope.

Llorente knocks it down, Dele flicks it on, MOURA!!!!!! 95:01 on the clock. Are you fucking kidding!? What the fuck just happened!?

Beers go flying again – more this time. Bodies go flying too. I’m thrown one way, Daniel the other direction as everyone piles in for a massive group-hug. Seriously, what the fuck just happened? How did that happen!? I have no words.

Things calm down long enough to watch the game kick off again. Now this would be typical Tottenham wouldn’t it? Surely even we can’t mess this one up? The referee finds another minute from somewhere, god knows where and prayers are being spoken all over Amsterdam. Erik Lamela decides the 97th minute of a Champions League semi final is the perfect time to do some stepovers and tricks on the edge of his box and proceeds to lose the ball – I daren’t repeat the words that came out of my mouth in the seconds that followed.

Time and place Erik, time and place! Get rid of the fucking ball man!

The final whistle goes and the pub roars again, very little beer left to throw by this point.

Myself and Daniel are finally reunited and we share a look that transcends words. Bemusement shared with the biggest grins imaginable, no explanation to what we’ve just witnessed. We embrace in a massive hug and I’ve completely gone by this point – the tears are streaming down my face. Spurs are going to Madrid for the Champions League final. Spurs have actually done it!

Myself and Daniel part and seconds later I’m crying in the arms of another Spurs fan and another and another. Swept up in the aftermath of multiple celebrations I head up to bar, just wanting a glass of water to catch my breath and I’m turned away – no service, not even for a quick glass of water – it’s closing time from the party-poopers.

Not that it mattered. The celebrations spilled out in to the streets and everyone is heading in the same direction – Dam Square! It is rammed with Spurs fans.

I still can’t stop crying. Pride just pouring out of me, happiness pouring out of me. Happiness for myself, happiness for every other Spurs supporter, player, manager and everyone associated with this wonderful, wonderful football club that I love and loathe in equal measure.

It’s evident at just how much this means to everyone but it’s just so hard to put in to words. Even now I well up when I think of that night. More hugs follow with stranger after stranger after stranger and I still can’t stop crying – this stuff just doesn’t happen to Spurs.

I can’t express just how many strangers I embraced and shared hugs with. It’s quite weird to think a year later we were in lockdown and couldn’t hug anyone! I got my 2020’s worth in one night!

The mood around Dam Square was just incredible and it wasn’t long before songs were ringing around the square! I somewhat felt for the hotel occupants that were probably hoping for a quiet night in an expensive hotel right on Dam Square and found hundreds singing on their doorstep in to the early hours – glory, glory Tottenham Hotspur!

I was reluctant to drag myself away but I was starting to feel quite dehydrated by this point and was desperate to go and find a bottle of water somewhere. I bid my farewells to Daniel and Natalie (who we bumped into again in Dam Square) and called it a night – back to the hostel.

I reeked of beer and debated taking a shower but that’s the one downside to hostel life, I didn’t want to disturb those already in bed and decided I’d just have to make do with a beer-drenched sleep – assuming that I could sleep.

I was still on such a high, laying in bed with yet more tears streaming down my face. I finally had a chance to catch up with some of the online reaction to what can only be described as one of the best nights of my life and seeing that joy shared only set me off further. Am I ever going to stop crying? I tucked my phone away and hoped that eventually my tear-filled eyes would allow me to sleep.

The next morning I woke from the strangest of dreams before remembering that actually, yes that did happen last night. It may well have been the stench of beer that helped remind me so I took the opportunity to shower before then checking out of my hostel.

I had nothing planned for my Thursday. In all honesty I couldn’t focus on anything else but football. My body was in the beautiful city of Amsterdam, my head was in Madrid – it’s all I could think about and working out the logistics of how I was going to get there.

I returned to a much quieter Dam Square and went in search of some breakfast, eventually finding a little place serving some crepes. They just so happened to have a little TV in the corner that were of course showing the highlights from the night before which I couldn’t take my eyes off – still in disbelief.

After breakfast I went wandering, off down one of Amsterdam’s canals but it was no use. I felt guilty but I just had no appreciation for where I was.

Sure Amsterdam’s pretty but I just want to go back to England and think about Madrid. I even went as far as looking for a Eurostar ticket and came very close to booking the next possible train but couldn’t justify spending a couple of hundred pound or whatever it was on a one way ticket – I’m just going to have to hang around in Amsterdam until my coach later this evening.

The nice thing about Amsterdam is that it’s a great city for doing nothing, it’s so easy to wander and not really care where you end up. I couldn’t tell you where I went in truth. Along this canal, down this street, across that bridge and being a glorious sunny day it was quite nice to get lost.

Eventually I stumbled upon a bar which I liked the look of and thought I’d stop off for a drink. I took a seat at the bar and by chance the guy to my right just so happened to be another Spurs supporter, a Spurs fan from Helsinki of all places! I mentioned that I’d just been to Helsinki and he offered a few recommendations for next time and then taught me a few Finnish words which was quite fun.

We grabbed another beer and ordered some ‘bitterballen’ which I hadn’t tried before (delicious) before eventually going our separate ways. I wandered a little more but by this point I was just killing time really, not too much longer and I’d be catching my coach home.

I decided to pop over to Amsterdam’s Hard Rock Cafe to get a late lunch and an early dinner. Being Amsterdam, its HRC inevitably overlooks a canal but I took seat at the bar as it was a little busy in the restaurant which ended up working in my favour. I always like the HRC, I’ve ticked off a few on my travels but this occasion was particularly memorable.

I finished off my food and the barman comes back and asks if I fancy another beer – “on the house!”.

How could I possibly say no to that? A wonderful gesture for no reason at all. I had plenty of time to kill so of course, another beer sounds perfect! I was so grateful!

From there it was a gradual winddown to departure. The free beer had certainly perked up my mood for Amsterdam but there wasn’t anything I really wanted to do. The most logical thing would probably to have gone elsewhere to grab a drink but I didn’t really fancy that either ahead of a long journey. I decided to just walk over to the bus stop, a good few miles away.

It was a nice way of seeing parts of Amsterdam I hadn’t ventured to previously. I didn’t walk the whole way in the end, maybe half of it before hopping on the metro. I’d gone from loads of time to kill to a mini-panic that I’d dawdled too much and now time wasn’t on my side.

I needn’t have worried as I got to the bus station with far too much time and nothing in the area but at least I was on time. I popped to a nearby supermarket to grab a bottle of water for the journey.

Frustratingly my card proceeded to decline and I had nowhere to get any cash out so was just about to put the water back before a kind stranger stepped in – lucking out with another freebie!

The journey back to Amsterdam was a little busier – no idea why but I guess a few fancied a trip to London. There were again a couple of Spurs fans on board who I got talking to – Madrid inevitably the hot topic.

This time we were taking a ferry journey across the channel which was the first time I’d done so for many, many years. Despite being well versed in travel, sea-travel is seemingly not my comfort zone! Stick me up in the sky and I’m generally fine but ferries? Bleurgh..

I felt woozy pretty early on and hoped to just ride out the journey as smoothly as possible. One of my new bus-friends came and found me and insisted I join him and shared his life story before proceeding to try and get a little sleep on the ferry.

As tired as I was, sleeping wasn’t an option for me. I closed my eyes at one point and that was a terrible decision. It just seemed to heighten my senses and awareness that we were on the water and bobbing along – terrible!

Eventually we were back in England and back on the coach but the rest of the journey was horrible. I just couldn’t shake the feeling that I was going to be sick. Ferry travel had not agreed with me at all and a claustrophobic-feeling coach wasn’t helping either.

I’d hoped to try and sleep it off but this was typically a much livelier bus on this occasion. We’d picked up a few youngsters in a dodgy-looking part of Brussels who were perfectly friendly but meant there was a lot more chatter on the way home. Nobody, myself included, seemed to kick up any fuss about the noise and ordinarily I don’t think I’d have cared at all but I felt so awful that it just added to my misery.

We got back as far as London and it just seemed to take an age to get to Victoria. I’d got this far without feeling sick, don’t be sick now! Fortunately I wasn’t, I held out but it seemed like the second we got to Victoria and got off the bus I then let it all out.

I’d booked an overnight coach for a multitude of reasons but one last reason I’d booked a Thursday evening coach was that I wouldn’t have to take Friday off work. I felt so awful though that I ended up texting my boss and asking for another day of holiday – a waste but I just couldn’t face going in to work after such a torrid journey home.

and that was that. This post went on much longer than I thought it would do but how could it not? If you made it this far, well done! I appreciate it was quite football-heavy but genuinely one of the greatest nights of my life and the fact I’d started the week in Helsinki means it probably ranks as one of the best weeks of my life.

A post on Helsinki and part two of that Köln trip will come soon but next up? A roadtrip to Madrid for a Champions League final – featuring Spurs!!

Stay tuned!

Jason

Köln – March 2019!

Where do I even start with this one, right? Every travel story in a post-Covid era offers some hindsight and a fresh perspective but let’s be abundantly clear, it’s inconceivable that I sit here writing about Köln again!

Long time readers and followers will know that myself and Köln have a long history, a patterned history if you will although I’ll get to that shortly.

I’ll try and summarise this first section the best I can as its a frequently told story but the next chapter needs some context

Cologne – March 2013
The travel bug hit. 2013 was the year where travel became less of a dream and more of a priority. I spent two weeks in the February out in Sydney, Australia and I was hooked.

I came home, not with bundles of money, but with another payday on the horizon I was itching for more travel. It was quite a last minute thought but Easter weekend at the end of March stuck out – perfect!

I looked at various options but booking last minute travel for Easter weekend was tricky, flight prices inevitably high before I pondered a train journey. A few places in Western Europe sprung to mind but something drew me to a city I knew nothing about and a country I wasn’t all that fascinated with if I’m being honest – Cologne, Germany.

I’d traveled a bit through my childhood but as a shy and quiet individual my travel experiences were somewhat Westernised if you will. I’d been to Florida four times on family holidays, Australia (obviously), Spain (supervised school trip), France (supervised day trips with the parents), Scotland, Wales, various spots around England and Ibiza (as good as English-speaking in the summertime).

So I don’t want to say I didn’t like Cologne. You step outside of its train station and it’s hard to be anything other than mesmerised by the incredible cathedral towering over the city. I liked a lot about Cologne but as daft as it sounds, I think it was the first time that I’d really been abroad

That’s not me downplaying how fortunate I was to have traveled as often as I did growing up but just an observation of the places I’d been to date or the people that had accompanied / supervised / taken leadership of the trips I’d taken.

I struggled to warm to Cologne and deep down I think it’s just because I was a bit of a shit traveler. Getting from A to B means you’ve traveled but I was really out of my comfort zone for the first time. I couldn’t speak more than a couple of words of German, I was traveling on my own, didn’t know anybody, have an introverted personality and didn’t find the Germans to be particularly hospitable, there was no life to my hostel, all the restaurants had funny food and I could go on and on. I couldn’t even work out how to open the door in to my hostel dorm – over an entire weekend!

All that said, I’d enjoyed Cologne enough of course. It appeased my desire to see the world, see different places but come the end of the weekend I was ready to go home. For all of the things I’d liked about Cologne, I’d felt isolated at times and all the pizza in the world (that’s a German delicacy, right?) couldn’t fix that feeling that Cologne just wasn’t my kind of place. It wasn’t somewhere I saw myself returning to.

Köln – March 2016
So of course, three years later I did just that. This time however I was visiting Köln, not the English-known Cologne I’d once visited.

I still stand by the fact that I’d had a nice time on my previous visit but it’s almost as if I’d just floated through Köln the first time around. Had I really enjoyed it? Where was the joy in that trip? I’d seen some things, the cathedral for one that never fails to blow me away, but I don’t know that it was ever really a happy trip – I probably said it was at the time but I’d gone home content knowing that I was going home. I don’t know that I really left with too many positive memories.

So I think this trip had a touch of redemption about it. Maybe I hadn’t actually given Köln a fair crack, I was three years on and whilst still trying to rid myself of some habits (“Weetabix boy“), I was a much better traveler by this point. Infact I could even speak German to a relatively decent level on what was now my 5th trip to the country.

I was back in Köln for football. My beloved Spurs had been dealt a “once in a lifetime” draw with none other than Borussia Dortmund – Spurs were going to play in front of that famous yellow wall of European football.

Staying in Dortmund itself had no appeal to me so I decided I’d base myself in Köln for the trip. A chance to return to the city, a city I could explore more of and a city I could see with fresh eyes.

Being able to speak German was transformational. I’d spoken more German within the first hour than I had on the entirety of my first trip. The unhospitable Germans I’d encountered three years earlier seemed friendlier and more engaging with someone actually making an effort to speak the language.

Additionally being a football trip meant I had friends along for the ride and that also helped improve the experience I had on this trip. It was a much more positive experience of Köln and somewhere I was pleased to return to.

That said, Köln isn’t particularly big so two trips to the city felt like plenty.

Köln – October 2016
“and Tottenham will play Bayer Leverkusen..”

I had a vague idea of where Leverkusen was but where in Germany is it exactly? Of course, Leverkusen is a tiny city that borders Köln.

It made no logical sense – geographically or financially – to stay anywhere other than Köln. To do so would have been out of spite and nothing else, although I’ll admit I was still tempted. I can’t stress how disappointing it was for the next European away trip to be in sodding West Germany, now to be my third trip to the region and my sixth trip to Germany in the space of three years. I just wanted anywhere else if I’m being honest.

Nevertheless, I went and enjoyed myself. Köln served itself as a good base to explore other towns and places in the area. I even popped over to Belgium for a day out in Liege.

It wasn’t ideal but I made the best of it. Three trips to Köln, two for football. That is me done!

~~Köln~~ Bremen – November 2017
No! Seriously, are you taking the piss?

“Tottenham have been drawn against Borussia Dortmund!”

That once in a lifetime trip? A third European tie in West Germany in barely 18 months? Come on.. There’s a whole sodding continent here! I won’t get in to the complexities of football because there is some method to the madness with context but I couldn’t believe my luck.

Having by this point spent a day in Dortmund I had even less desire to stay there this time, there was no way in hell I was going to Köln for a third time in such a short turnaround so it was spite this time. I ended up splitting my time between Bremen and Dusseldorf.

“Anywhere but Köln” – I’m sorry, I’d actually grown to love Köln by this point but no, one trip too many!

The USA – 2018
“erm.. Jason?”

I know, I know but stick with me because this is an essential part of the story. As I mentioned in my last post on Warsaw, all of my 2018 annual leave was sucked up in to spending a month in the USA and one consequence of that was sacrificing a year without a football European trip. A small price to pay for such an incredible 30 days in the USA but a price nonetheless.

Having been to West Germany, West Germany, Madrid and West Germany on my previous four football adventures I can’t describe how agonising it was to see Tottenham’s European adventures unfold in 2018.

Turin, Milan, Eindhoven, Barcelona.. why do you tempt me so? I’d lie if I said I hadn’t wanted to skip work to go to Barcelona but unfortunately the professionalism kicked in.

“Nice suntan Jason.. I saw you on the TV last night by the way, you’re fired!”

It was a year of pain, one that I more than made up for but pain! I don’t know if I’ll ever get to see Spurs in the Nou Camp again, that’s the 4th time for one reason or another I’ve not been to watch Spurs in the San Siro too. Two iconic footballing stadiums and I’m stuck having to work because I had no time left to take off work – it was gut-wrenching watching Spurs fans deliriously celebrating a 1-1 draw in Barcelona.

The one comfort I told myself was that I’d make up for it. No matter what, I’m going to the first European away trip of 2019.

Köln – March 2019
and here we are.. I’d say you couldn’t script it but you could. I wrote about it in this very post at the end of 2018 – European uncertainty

Such is the cruel way of the football gods, Tottenham were somehow taking their third “once in a lifetime” trip to Dortmund in three years. Dortmund – again! Fucking hell..

Maybe I’m doing Dortmund a disservice but were it not for its football team, I’m not sure anyone would know of its existence, I’m not sure anyone would visit. The stadium is phenomenal, their fans are phenomenal but one trip was plenty. Two trips.. alright, fine but three in three years? I was dreaming of Porto and was rewarded with another trip to fucking Dortmund!

Such were the frequent visits I’d now been to Köln (three times!), Dortmund (twice!), Leverkusen, Mainz, Bremen, Dusseldorf, Bonn, Bruhl, Koblenz, Luxembourg, Gent, Liege..

Those were just on football-specific visits too. I’d been to Belgium a few times, I’d been to the Netherlands, I’d been to countless other cities in Germany on other visits. I was running out of places in the region to even visit.

but “no matter what..”

I knew my days were numbered. Life priorities were changing, it was only a matter of time before I would pack in the football and I write this today no longer a season-ticket holder of Spurs. I haven’t fully given it up but I’ve severely cut down.

Ironically I knew big change was coming in 2020 and this particular season would quite possibly offer me my last European away day (HA!). I didn’t really want to go back to Dortmund again but I also wasn’t confident enough that Spurs would progress. It was a 50-50 tie as far as I was concerned and it might be Dortmund or nothing. Do I gamble that Tottenham reach the next round (HA!) or do I just go to Germany.. again..

I couldn’t risk it. Spoiler – Spurs did go through but their next European tie was up in Manchester which would have been the only location more anti-climatic than going to Dortmund for the thousandth time. I like Manchester, I like it a lot actually but what a shitty European away trip that would have been in replacement of Dortmund.

Reluctantly committed, where do I go? I’ve now been to Dortmund twice, I’m even less inclined to stay there this time. What about Köln? It seemed like a genuine possibility this time around.

What eventually swung the decision was the timing. Bizarrely I’d been to Köln in March 2013, March 2016 and now March 2019 but the two previous trips had somehow escaped one of the big events in the calendar year – the Kölner Karneval – Cologne’s famous carnival.

Tottenham happened to be playing in Dortmund on the Tuesday night, with ‘RosenMontag’ the day prior – arguably the highlight of the karneval. The fact the two events overlapped meant that Köln was a no-brainer and by some bizarre coincidence I’d been to the city every third March! I joked that this was now a tradition and that I could seemingly predict where I’d be again in three years time!

Alas, I regret to report I have no plans to visit Köln next month so this long-standing unintentional pattern has reached a natural conclusion. However I digress.. back to 2019!

Having been reluctant to visit for a second time, a third time and then initially for a fourth time, I quickly discovered my excitement for this particular trip. I don’t think you ever really plan to visit somewhere so many times but I had grown to love Köln by this point. Infact were the circumstances better, I wouldn’t be opposed to going back to Köln next month just because it’d be quite funny. I do actually quite like the city and there’s a part of me that would love nothing more than to stroll along the Rhein right now.

I flew out to Köln early on Monday morning and was soon landing in what was a very familiar airport and city. Less familiar was the waves of fancy-dressed folks sat on the train when I boarded at the airport – all heading for Köln Hauptbahnhof! I felt vastly underdressed for the occasion with my standard hoodie and jeans. Köln was firmly in karneval mood!

The majority of people got off at the main station and soon streamed out towards the cathedral – a great gathering place and meeting point for the days festivities. Inevitably it’s the busiest I’ve ever seen Köln, so many of the streets around the area were completely cordoned off too which made it a bit of a nightmare to get around.

I ended up finding myself a nice spot to sit and watch the imminent parade with various floats and performers here to entertain. It was nice to see this side of Köln and also see what all the fuss was about. Everyone was in great spirits!

KolnKarneval — Karneval vibes – Köln, March 2019

KarnevalParade — Kölner Karneval – March 2019

I soon dragged myself away, hoping to search for somewhere a little bit quieter to find myself some lunch before popping off to my hotel. Unsurprising a lot of places were busy but I soon found somewhere suitable for some good food.

The one thing about visiting somewhere so many times is that there wasn’t really anything I needed or particularly even wanted to do. I was in Köln for nothing more than the football, I was perfectly content with this being a relatively relaxed break. I checked in to my hotel and proceeded to take a nap!

I popped back out in search of somewhere to enjoy the evening. Germany and beer go hand-in-hand so many of the city’s day-trippers had undoubtedly spent all day drinking but I was happy to just go and have a few beers without indulging in some crazy night. I didn’t want to just write off my Tuesday.

After a nice but far-from-wild night, I called it and strolled back to my hotel. The next morning I was up bright and early. We weren’t playing in Dortmund until later in the evening so I still had a bit of time to make the most of my stay in Köln.

I decided I’d go and visit a part of town I’d not yet been to, a neighbourhood called Ehrenfeld which is known for its street art. Again this was another perk of having visited the city so many times and it allowed me an opportunity to get to parts of the city you likely don’t see on a quick visit.

I made the long walk over to Ehrenfeld and stopped off at this little cafe for some crepes. From there it was time to hunt down this supposed street art I’d seen little of thus far.

Close to Ehrenfeld’s S-bahn station was a decent scattering of murals and street art lined up along a number of walls. The train at the station and ‘captain Ehrenfeld’ being two of my favourites I spotted.

The rest of the area seemed to have a bunch of independent shops, cafes and restaurants so it was a nice part of town to have discovered and worth maybe taking half a day to explore if you’re ever in Köln – particularly if like myself you’ve been before.

I ventured back to the centre of the city, thinking I’d grab some lunch before catching the train to Dortmund but Köln seemed well and truly closed for business. I don’t know if this Tuesday is considered a local holiday – intentional or otherwise but it was a struggle finding a restaurant open for lunch. The exploits of ‘RosenMontag’ meant that Köln was effectively a ghost town – a day written off for hangover recovery.

Reluctantly I accepted defeat and ended up popping over to the Hard Rock Cafe – seemingly unaffected by the shenanigans of the day before. In my best German I asked the barman where everyone was, why nowhere seemed to be open and I got a one word response – “Karneval” accompanied with a laugh.

Say no more. On Monday I had never seen the city as busy as this, on Tuesday I’d never seen Köln so quiet. It was quite eerie – the type of scene you see in horror and zombie movies but a much simpler explanation on this occasion – “Karneval!”

The rest of the day was reserved for the football. Spurs back in Dortmund again. A comfortable evening – Spurs cruised through to the next round and the daunting Manchester City awaited.

I’d ticked off what would surely be my last European football trip for some time, perhaps ever? (If you know, you know!).

This particular trip wasn’t quite over though. I’d booked four days off of work, too many to spend solely in Köln so I decided I’d split the trip and visit somewhere else for a couple of nights.

I flew out to Köln with the belief I’d be heading onwards to Frankfurt but this voice was nagging away at me and I had a change of heart whilst in Köln. The day before I cancelled my hotel in Frankfurt and booked accommodation somewhere else.

On Wednesday morning I popped to Köln’s Hauptbahnhof and booked myself train tickets for my next stop on this trip. Where?

Well, I’ll leave you to stew on that until next time!

Stay tuned!

Jason

Warsaw – November 2018

Hello my dear followers, how are things? Had you expected to see me back so soon? Posts in consecutive weeks – wow! I’m on a roll!

When I started this blog I decided that I was just going to write about my trips chronologically, it seemed the easiest way to do things but it does mean that I’m often writing about trips from quite some time ago.

The last trip I wrote about was my “big 3-0 series” – the 30 day adventure in the USA in the summer of 2018. So it means in travel terms I’m still writing about trips from almost four years ago!

What’s worse is not only was the trip itself a long time ago, it has actually been more than six months since I wrapped up that series on the blog. My blogging disappearance means that it has been ages since I’ve actually written about a trip, so let’s get back to it shall we?

That summer adventure was incredible for so many reasons and I visited some incredible places throughout my month in the USA. Though sadly whilst a month off of work has an endless number of perks, the downside is that sometimes you have to return to reality.

Finance permitting I may well have just said sod it and camped out with Bigfoot somewhere in Washington or Montana for the rest of my life but alas, retirement is still a good few ~~(days?, weeks?, years?)~~ decades away and I had to return to England.

Back to work – after a month! Worse yet, I’d taken a month off which severely hampered any plans for the rest of the year. I’d used up all of my annual leave! It was the 28th of August and I couldn’t think about having ONE day off between now and January – not one measly day!

Now one day off might not seem like a huge deal for some of you but to us work-shy Europeans who like to capitalise on every last drop of annual leave allowance, it felt torturous. A tad hard to complain too much when you’ve just had a full month off work but complain I did!

I’ve never felt the value of a day more than I did in those painful last months of 2018 (is that a violin I hear?). All I wanted was a day that could extend in to a long weekend, or half a day even. Let me finish work on Friday afternoon and whisk off to Europe for the weekend. Let me prolong my stay and fly home on Monday morning. Where was this “working at home” malarkey when I really needed it?

The real kicker was the summer’s Champions League draw. Long time readers will know that football is a huge passion of mine, Tottenham Hotspur particularly so, and that I’ve taken many trips across Europe to watch my beloved Spurs over the years. Yet I knew in 2018 I’d have to sacrifice that luxury, no European away football trips in 2018.

To my dismay, after years of what felt like every European fixture being held in Germany, Tottenham got somewhat of a dream draw. We’d already played in Turin earlier in the year which I begrudgingly passed on but then that Champions League draw – Barcelona, Inter, Tottenham, PSV!

Spurs are going to Barcelona, Milan and Eindhoven. Are you fricking kidding me? I would have done any one of or all three destinations in a heartbeat and didn’t have one remaining day to use – agony! Barcelona in particular, when am I ever going to get the chance to see Spurs in the Nou Camp again?

“Do you think work would notice if I pulled a sickie that day?” – the professionalism kicked in and I worked but urgh. I sacrificed and you’ll be pleased to know Tottenham’s European tour continued in to 2019 and I vowed that I’d go to the next European game no matter what – all shall be revealed in my next post!

Anyway, that only made the wanderlust grow and I HAD to go somewhere this year. It was by no means ideal given I was limited on time but I wasn’t waiting until the new year for some adventure. A weekend up in Birmingham scratched the itch a little bit but I really wanted to explore somewhere new – enter Warsaw!

In hindsight I don’t know that it really worked. I booked the earliest Saturday morning flights I could and the latest Sunday evening flights coming home that I could but still, less than 36 hours in Warsaw – it wasn’t perfect.

That said, with further hindsight.. Covid, you know? Every trip taken now looks sensible with the C word in mind. I don’t think I could ever recommend having just one night in Warsaw but I made the best of what I had.

So early on Saturday morning I flew out to Warsaw, which for anyone who has flown with Ryanair would know could actually be anywhere in Poland. In this instance the airport was around 40 km away from the city I actually wanted to be in – fantastic!

It took me a little while to figure out how to navigate my way to Warsaw from the middle of nowhere but soon enough I was on a bus and then getting off just outside the huge Palace of Culture and Science in the city – probably one of Warsaw’s most recognisable landmarks and impossible to miss!

By this point it was already mid-afternoon and it felt like a good chunk of my weekend had deserted me. I thought I’d go and check in to my hotel and then grab some food but as it was one of my travel-favourites caught me eye.

Just across the street I happened to see none other than Warsaw’s Hard Rock Cafe – I had no real intention of seeking it out or looking for it on such a short trip but given the convenient location I couldn’t pass up making my first meal and indeed first experience in Poland a tourist-trap.

There are two things I remember from my visit. Firstly its appearance – lined along the walls was a huge, huge collection of guitars planted in to the wall. It was a really cool piece of art if you can call it that.

HRC Guitars — Guitar wall – Hard Rock Cafe, Warsaw

Secondly, the service was abysmal. It’s a shame because the service and atmosphere are usually HRC’s strong points but was far from its usual standards in Warsaw. My server seemed oblivious to my presence from the beginning. Once I finally managed to order something it was a long wait hoping that some food might arrive this afternoon. Still waiting, a while later my server made eye contact before scurrying away and sending a colleague over to take a brand new order.

Whilst I appreciate the struggles of the service industry and perhaps feeling a tad embarrassed, it was a little disappointing that my server shirked any responsiblity or apology for my wait and let someone else take the fall. Not that they apologised either. I did eat eventually but not off to the best starts in Poland.

From there I decided I’d finally go and check in to my hotel. It was probably 4, pushing 5pm by this point and the rush had worn me down. Perhaps Poland was just too far to go for a little over 24 hours. By the time I’d dropped my things off I didn’t feel like doing anything, I was partly regretting having even made the effort to come.

Feeling a bit sorry for myself I was torn between wasting the rest of my evening or forcing myself out to go and enjoy Warsaw’s nightlife on my only proper evening in the city.

In the end I decided upon a pitiful compromise, I thought I’d pop down to the hotel bar and get a drink and think about what to do from there. Feeling a dose of de-ja-vu my dear barman was AWOL, no interest in getting anyone a drink. I waited and waited and waited and I finally gave up.

“I’m not ever getting a drink here am I? Let’s go out I suppose..”

I ran back up to my hotel room, ditched the invisibility cloak I’d seemingly been wearing all day and headed back out with a coat. A couple of places caught my eye and one in particular, the Barock pub, took my fancy which wasn’t too far from my hotel.

On route I passed the ‘Hala Koszyki’ indoor market / food court which seemed like a wonderful place to spend the evening. I was quite tempted to stick around as it seemed somewhat of a hidden gem and a nice hangout spot for locals and tourists alike – one to remember for a future visit I said.

I continued on to the Barock pub and found this cosy little pub down one of the side streets. I can’t quite remember why I was set on this pub but I think one of the appeals had been that they had live music on and I was keen to enjoy the evening by this point.

I wandered up to the bar, tried to order a beer but was unfortunately met with a rather unfriendly barmaid who didn’t seem too pleased that I didn’t already know what I wanted from the extensive beer menu, hoping for a little help (in English) for recommendations. She handed me over to what I assume was her husband (they were both fairly old) who also didn’t seem best pleased to be serving me but I managed to sputter out the word ‘piwo’ clearly enough to at the very least get a beer at this point.

Perhaps I had just been unfortunate up to now but the fact this was the best service I’d received thus far in Warsaw was quite comical.

From here the evening at least got better. I found a table to sit at with my beer and this band played away among the local chatter at tables around me. They put on a fun show and I was even adamant I somehow knew their final song of the evening.

How, why or where I would have heard it I don’t know but I assumed it must have been a cover of something I’d possibly heard. My best efforts of internet-hunting well-known Polish songs came up short so I’ll never know the answer to that mystery but it was a lovely evening and much better than wasting it away in the hotel – although had I been in Warsaw longer than a night I may well have done that.

Feeling much more myself after a good night’s sleep, I wanted to have at least seen a little of Warsaw before heading home. I knew my time was pretty limited but I was keen to get out and get walking – my favourite way to familiarise myself with a new place.

I wandered back past the Palace of Culture and Science and made the slow walk over to the Old Town, surely a must see on my brief visit to Warsaw. The walk took me through the Ogrod Saski (Saxon Garden) which was a lovely park, albeit probably lovelier in nicer climates than mid-November.

The highlight, or part of the park that drew the biggest interest, appeared to be the ‘tomb of the unknown soldier’ – a worthy memorial to the unknown Polish soldiers killed in World War 1.

Moving onwards took me past the presidential palace, another impressive landmark on the fringes of the old town. I grabbed a few photos and then turned my attention towards food. After yesterday’s debacle I was keen to turn my attention towards some Polish cuisine and get some early lunch. I found myself a restaurant nearby promising pierogi on the menu and that was enough to tempt me inwards.

It was a wise choice. The food was lovely and would you believe it, I even received some good service! Yesterday’s shortcomings were already starting to feel like a distant memory (he says four years later..).

Having filled my stomach on delicious dumplings I was ready to get back out and see the rest of the old town. I soon found myself at ‘Plac Zakowy’, better known as ‘Castle Square’ – home to the royal castle and I suppose the main square of the old town.

To my surprise it was pretty quiet, deserted even. I don’t know if Sunday being a religious day perhaps had a role in that. Visiting Poland in mid-November is hardly prime time to visit the country either, cold and probably a tad too early for any Christmas markets, but there was hardly anybody around. I had this huge square to myself for the mostpart – wonderful really.

The standout landmark of course was the royal castle, probably one of Poland’s most famous landmarks which towers over the square. You can do tours but I saw the queues and decided I’d leave it for a future visit when more time was on my side. On this occasion I settled for walking around it and just marveled at it – a beautiful building.

Royal Castle Warsaw — Royal Castle, Warsaw

The rest of the old town was equally lovely, like many throughout Europe I suppose. You could spend plenty of time wandering its streets and popping in to a number of restaurants, bars and shops as you go. I was pleased to see there was a scattering of Christmas markets, I seem to so frequently time my November trips a week too early and miss the best of them. There weren’t many on this occasion and I suspect I’d have seen much more had I been there a week or so later but it was still nice to see and started getting me in to the festive mood.

One of the unique things about Warsaw’s old town is that it was destroyed during World War 2 and then reconstructed to the best of their ability to resemble what it looked like beforehand. So as far as old town’s go, I suppose this is one of the newer ones but you wouldn’t know it when walking around.

Being mid-November it didn’t take long to get dark and cold so feeling content I’d seen enough of Warsaw for a first-time flying visit I went in search of an establishment to wind down. I knew I hadn’t even scratched the surface with Warsaw but there was no use in trying to pack things in for the sake of it, I knew I’d be coming back at some point in the future.

I found myself a brewery in the Mariensztat area and treated myself to a couple of beers – one thing Poland does do particularly well and cheaply too! The only thing missing was a food menu so I pottered on back to the old town for one last look around and to find somewhere to grab some food before heading on over to the airport.

I’d decided I’d just get an Uber back to the airport as it’d be quicker and being Poland, not too expensive either. Whilst Uber has its perks, one of my frustrations I find is that they don’t necessarily pick you up where you actually want them to pick you up – then have the cheek to charge you a late fee if you’re not where they want you quickly enough.

Whilst I don’t actually use Uber particularly often, many a trip has had to start with me wondering where I actually have to go to in order to be picked up – my trip had almost ended as it started. I had a 40km bus detour to get to my destination after Ryanair dropped me off in the middle of nowhere and now I had a somewhat-smaller detour to find my taxi for them to take me back to the middle of nowhere.

I promise this story comes with a point but the upside is that instead of actually getting picked up at the restaurant I’d grabbed food at, I had to go running round Warsaw to find my Uber and bam!

Don’t worry, it didn’t hit me but I turned the corner and there were these castle walls staring back at me. In the search for my Uber I’d only gone and stumbled upon the incredible Warsaw Barbican.

It was stunning and whilst pleased I’d stumbled upon it, I was sad I didn’t really get the chance to explore the area properly. I quickly snapped a few photos but was then on my way. A little further up the road my Uber was waiting for me and we were off, back to the airport and back to work in the morning.

Overall Warsaw wasn’t entirely what I’d wanted but it’d be hard to say through any fault of its own. The Warsaw that I got to see was lovely, I just didn’t see anywhere near enough of it due to a lack of time.

Even with some shoddy service along the way, my only real feelings about my first trip to Poland are positive. Warsaw is a really nice city and one that I have no doubts I’ll return to – particularly as it’s so cheap.

I’d certainly recommend a visit but hope you do so for longer than I did. At the very least I think I needed a two night trip but it wasn’t to be.

Anyway, I’ll wrap this up! Next time on the blog? That long-awaited European away trip with Spurs.

Stay tuned!

Jason

2020 travel roundup

Happy New Year everyone! I hope that you’ve had an enjoyable festive period despite the difficulties that 2020 has offered.

It has become somewhat of a tradition for me to do a little round up of the travels throughout the year. Of course 2019’s effort looked much busier than this post will be with trips to seven different countries in 2019, however I still managed to travel enough this year that I can squeeze a post out of it. Here goes..

January – Durham!
Doesn’t the start of 2020 seem so long ago now? I went in to this year knowing that there would be life-changing circumstances and consequently that I probably wouldn’t be traveling much this year.

Before you start asking – no, I’m not psychic! Haha. Nobody could quite predict this kind of year was coming but I’d quit my job and made plans to live in the US for a few months so I figured with, at least, three months of unemployment and a lot of uncertainty in 2020 that I’d probably have to cut back on travel this year.

“but one more trip?”

That’s the ever-present urge isn’t it? I could feel my adventures slipping away and pondered if I could squeeze in just one more trip before flying to Washington in February? Another New Years Eve getaway? A short weekender somewhere? Anywhere? Please?

Well, the football was enough to tempt me (surprise!). One of the highlights of the footballing calendar is the first weekend of the year – the third round of the “magical” FA Cup. The big names of football enter the competition and if the minnows, amateurs and part-timers are lucky they get a chance to test themselves against the very best.

It’s one of those weekends that football fans look forward to and my beloved Tottenham were playing “up North” in Middlesbrough and having successfully acquired a ticket I figured why not?

The train times weren’t particularly co-operative so I decided to make the most of it and have one final “hurrah” before the big trip of the year. Although I had little desire to visit Middlesbrough itself so settled on booking a stay in the nearby city of Durham – somewhere I’d been wanting to visit for a while and never really got around to.

It was a wise decision, I’d been to Middlesbrough before anyway but Durham is a lovely and charming little city. I also managed to arrange a catch up with my friend Sarah, which in hindsight was wonderful because I’ve not been able to see much of anyone this year haha.

Other than the football it was a pretty relaxed trip. It’s not the biggest city and I think two nights was sufficient enough to have seen the bulk of it but it was nice to kick off the year with a bit of travel and explore a city well worth visiting.

February – Washington!
Of course this trip needs little introduction. Long time readers will know I’d planned this months in advance. I’d made the decision to leave my job and go and ‘live’ in Washington with my girlfriend for three months.

Three months in small-town Washington, a city called Moses Lake to be precise. January was a bit of a slog, particularly as far as work was concerned because I knew the end was imminent. I was counting down the days and after one final weekend in London of football, beers and pizza I was on my way to Seattle for a very different way of living.

I’m a London boy at heart but now live in the “small” city of Peterborough with its 200,000ish inhabitants. Yet here I was spending three months in Moses Lake with its population of 24,000 people! 24,000! If I find Peterborough small at times, how am I going to cope in Moses Lake for three months!?

Moses Lake History — Moses Lake, Washington

Oddly I adapted and settled pretty quickly. I’ve already written about my time in Washington on the blog but it was lovely. Admittedly I think being unemployed helped, I had absolutely nothing to worry about and was living the easy life!

I grew to appreciate the simplicities of life without a job – taking a book with me to the coffee shop downtown and sitting in with a cup of tea for a couple of hours, wandering by the lake on a nice afternoon, date nights and all the other nicer things in life that you don’t have to worry about when you have a job.

Ignoring the necessity to finance this way of life, I could do this forever – who needs to work!? This is the “new normal” and long may it continue!

and then the “new normal” struck – supermarkets deprived of toilet rolls and that dreaded C word!

“The new normal..” – I’d only just escaped the old normal! What is this nonsense? Stay at home orders and closed businesses and a lockdown in small town America!

I tried to wait it out, hoping Trump’s optimism of re-opening by Easter would prove accurate but it wasn’t to be. On the 30th of March he advised lockdown measures would be extended throughout April and as I was due to fly home on May 1st it was time to find plan B.

Ultimately I had to cut my time in Washington short, not ideal and still no inkling on when I’ll be able to return but I still got the best part of 8-9 weeks in Washington, 6 of those before going in to lockdown so a good chunk of time in a place I’ve grown particularly fond of.

Sadly I don’t know if I’ll actually get back to Moses Lake – I hope I do because I feel like I owe it and myself a proper goodbye but the reality is the next time I’m in Washington Haleigh may no longer be in Moses Lake. It’s a shame my love-affair with Moses Lake ended the way it did but perhaps our paths will cross again someday.

April – Utah! (Cancelled)
Sadly not every travel story this year had a happy ending. Haleigh’s a teacher and had a few days off in April for her spring break which we were keen to make the most of and have an adventure together.

We’d been toying with a couple of ideas – namely Oregon and Utah but in February one of Haleigh’s cousins (Michelle) who lives in Utah came up to Washington with her boyfriend (David) which was enough to steer us towards planning a trip down to Salt Lake City.

ValentinesDayDateNight — Valentines Day with Haleigh and my Utah favourites

We pencilled in the dates but as Covid emerged and as April neared it was apparent our plans would have to be postponed. It was a shame because we’d considered visiting Salt Lake City on my “big 3-0” trip too and it didn’t pan out then either. Maybe it’ll be third time lucky?

Fortunately the only booking we’d made was one night in a hotel in Boise, Idaho which was fully refundable but Covid robbed us of a trip to what would have been two new states for me.

As it was, my change of plans meant I spent the bulk of April at home in England instead.

August – the Norfolk coast!
After getting back to England in early April I made the decision to self-isolate and stay at home for two weeks – not that anyone actually advised me to do this. At this moment in time the UK were still welcoming people with open arms without any fuss – bonkers!

Towards the end of that second week I switched my focus back to the real world – time to find a job! To my surprise I actually got a job interview really quickly! Sadly I didn’t get that particular job but then my former employers approached me about returning in a new job role so by early May I was employed again. Even before going to Washington, completely unaware of the imminent pandemic, I hadn’t anticipated that I’d be employed that quickly.

I’d very much landed on my feet! I’d planned and budgeted for a spell of unemployment so I’ve been luckier than most this year in that I’ve not really felt the financial strain of Covid. Better yet, I’d found a new challenge and was doing something far more enjoyable than the previous year – hurrah!

By August I was ready for a break and thought I’d treat myself to a few days away for my birthday. I wasn’t quite ready to hop on a plane just yet so limited myself to staying within the UK and was intending for something a little more outdoorsy and less of a city break which I often favour.

I looked at a few options but in the end stayed pretty local and only went as far as Norfolk. I really fancied a few days by the coast and although I’ve seen a little of Norfolk, there’s still lots of it I haven’t seen so I booked myself a hotel for 4 nights in Cromer – Monday to Friday as I was keen to avoid the weekend crowds!

My second UK break of the year! It was nice to get away for a few days and it was a nice reminder of how much I love being by the sea.

It was busy in parts, which is a little inevitable in the summer months, but overall it was pretty easy to keep distanced from other people and even with the UK running its “Eat out to help out” scheme throughout August places were taking social distancing seriously with various measures in place.

Overall it was a lovely few days away and the perfect trip to refresh and re-energise before getting back to work.

October – Gibraltar!
All work and no play? I’ve long held the belief that work isn’t that important. This wasn’t some lesson I learnt in 2020 but it was probably a year that helped emphasise it.

In 2019 I was on my last legs with work and 3 months without working, particularly the first 6 weeks without lockdown was bliss. If I was financially secure enough that I didn’t have to work, I don’t think that I would.

You might ponder what relevance that has to Gibraltar but a change in working environment was a factor. There was a mixed feeling in August in not feeling quite ready enough to get on a plane and also a question over whether I was right to get on to a plane?

I was working from home, I wasn’t seeing friends, I was very much in my own little bubble and expanding my horizons seemed irresponsible perhaps. So I ended up visiting Norfolk which required little travel and being by the sea and outdoors made it much easier to minimise my social contact.

Fast forward two months and the advice and guidance had vastly changed and work wanted me to return to an office-environment with the UK government at the forefront of that advice.

That change of environment changed my mindset a little. The reality was that this change of circumstance meant that the place I was most likely to catch Covid would be at work.

So I’ll leave you to be judge and executioner as to whether it was right for me to travel abroad but it felt right for me. If I could go to work in an office with 100 odd other people, why should I feel guilty about traveling?

Ultimately it was still another solo trip so still pretty easy to keep to myself, after looking at a number of different options I narrowed down my choices to two countries with low Covid cases and countries that seemingly had a better handle of Covid than the UK (who doesn’t, right?): Turkey and Gibraltar!

I’d been itching to visit Turkey for a while but something swayed me towards Gibraltar. I didn’t want to get stung by a last minute cancellation and I just couldn’t see the UK halting travel to a British overseas territory. It didn’t look like there was any reason for the UK to halt travel to Turkey either but that, the fact Gibraltar had yet to register any Covid deaths (that sadly isn’t the case any more) and a couple of other things pushed me towards visiting Gibraltar.

As it was, Turkey went on to the UK’s naughty list a matter of days after I’d booked my flights so I got pretty lucky.

I was excited to visit a new country and having had no huge desire to visit Gibraltar previously, it was a pleasant surprise. I already wrote about my time in Gibraltar here but it was the perfect mix of British and European culture – the best of both really.

Overall it felt much safer than the UK too, I felt a little vindicated in picking Gibraltar over taking a break within the UK. Gibraltar seemingly had a good handle on things whilst the UK was spiralling. Maybe I could just buy a boat and stay in Gibraltar?

I think I would have liked Gibraltar regardless but visiting in Covid times, making comparisons to back home, made it so much easier to love. I forgot all about work and was mentally back to sipping tea in Moses Lake, the only difference being this time it was beer in sunny Gibraltar.

I’d go back in a heartbeat and it didn’t take long to see why so many Brits visit and retire here. It’s that South of France or Spanish retirement dream without the language barrier – perfect!

November – “where to?”
I’d optimistically booked off Thanksgiving week months in advance, on the off chance travel might have recovered by then and I’d be able to get back to Washington.

As it got closer to November it was clear that wouldn’t be happening and I was pondering what to do with my week off of work? I figured I’d probably not actually do much and maybe squeeze in a couple of nights down in London before the end of the year.

Then the UK went in to lockdown for pretty much the entirety of November which scuppered any hope of going anywhere. In the end I don’t think I even left the house in that particular week – not the most exciting of breaks and the first time I’ve ‘wasted’ annual leave in probably six or seven years. I had to use it before the end of the year though so it was unavoidable, still better than spending a week working.

December – London!
I had three more days to use up before the end of the year and having coming out of lockdown I was keeping an eye on where I could potentially visit.

Options by this point were even more limited than they had been for my trip in October. I was determined to book a trip as late as possible, hoping that the weekly Thursday travel updates might offer somewhere but it wasn’t to be.

So I reverted back to my November plans, I really wanted to get to London before the end of the year. December / Christmas is such a magical time to visit London and I hadn’t spent any time in the capital since February!

Ordinarily I’d visit London at least twice a month I reckon so ten months without a visit left me feeling like I was long overdue a trip. I was particularly keen to visit some of the museums in the capital, I haven’t really been to any of them since I was a kid living in London. My only real opportunities to visit are at weekends or public holidays too and they’re just hell-ish to visit when the kids are off school – no thanks!

Keeping in mind my plans, I decided I’d book myself a couple of nights in a part of London I rarely stay in – Kensington! The National History Museum was towards the top of my list to visit and it was just an ideal location to base myself in and I was surprised to find London so ‘cheap’ for this time of year and this location – clearly feeling the wrath of the pandemic!

So with Peterborough and London both in ‘tier 2’ I hopped on a train and enjoyed a couple of nights in the capital, again by myself.

It was the best and worst time to be in London. The best because London was so quiet by usual standards, a lot of central London was dead – two weeks before Christmas and no crowds or people anywhere. I had Westminster and the likes all to myself!

So why was it the worst time to be in London? Call me crazy but.. London was dead. I love London so much. I love the hustle and bustle, I love how much life London has and it broke my heart a little to see London so.. un-London-like.

I shouldn’t be able to walk around Westminster without cursing dawdling tourists. Either move quicker or have the awareness to get out of the way!

There were a few things I really got to appreciate and gave me a small taste of London, I managed to enjoy a couple of people busking in a couple of locations and London still feels so magical at this time of the year but it was a very different London to the one that I’m used to.

Nevertheless it was a nice trip to end the year and given the circumstances still not a terrible travel year. I got to have a taste of living in another country, took four flights and managed to visit one new country. I also managed to visit a couple of new places in the UK so all in all, I probably still did better than most.

However I’m hoping 2021 is a much better year for travel. I’ve got no travel plans at the minute and it doesn’t feel good haha!

Quarantine! — Masked up and waiting for adventure!

I hope you managed to squeeze in some travels this year too! Up next on the blog? I continue with the “big 3-0” trip. Stay tuned!

Jason

Gibraltar – Oct 2020

Hello my dear readers, welcome back to another post! Can you believe it? I’m posting twice within a week – incredible!

After a little hiatus, last time out on the blog I provided a little update and promised that I’d post about my recent trip to Gibraltar! Here’s that post!

I’d never been to Gibraltar before, nor had I really had that much interest in going to Gibraltar. Of course I want to visit everywhere in the world but I definitely feel like it ended up being a Covid-influenced decision. As I explained in my last post, with so many travel restrictions currently I found myself torn between staying in the UK, visiting Turkey or visiting Gibraltar with my few days of annual leave.

I’ve been itching to visit Turkey for a little while now but something swayed me towards Gibraltar instead. A few days after booking my trip Turkey went on the quarantine list so that was a big relief.

As for the UK.. well, the less said about the Covid situation in the UK at the moment the better. Ironically a trip to Gibraltar seemed safer than visiting anywhere within my own country – ridiculous!

Once everything was booked my excitement did start to build. It had been six months since I’d been abroad and indeed six months since I’d been to Heathrow. I opted to stay in an airport hotel on the Wednesday night and then fly out of terminal 5 at around midday on Thursday – not too early so I got a bit of a lay in on Thursday morning.

Heathrow was inevitably a bit busier than my arrival back in April but was still far from normal capacity. I passed through security pretty quickly and went on the hunt for breakfast. My usual pre-flight spot is at Huxley’s with some pancakes and a pot of tea but they were seemingly closed – I’m hoping this is just temporary but in the meantime I had to settle for breakfast at ‘Spoons’. They had a few screens up between tables and table service so adhering to the Covid measures in place. In fairness to Wetherspoons, they’ve actually encouraged ordering via an app for a long time so have been a little “ahead of the game” on that front.

Anyway, a short while later it was time to fly. Boarding was pretty smooth and done from the back of the plane by row order, I lucked out on the way to Gibraltar with an aisle seat and nobody sat in the middle. However it was generally a full-capacity flight and most rows had every seat full, just worth keeping in mind for anybody pondering how busy flights are at the moment – masks were mandatory and there seemed to be no fuss on that part at least.

I landed in Gibraltar a few hours later. Before you’re allowed to enter Gibraltar you have to complete a passenger-locator form. You can do this online once you’ve checked in for your flight, it surprised me how many hadn’t done this before arrival. They check every single passenger so you’re better off doing it beforehand rather than stood huddled together filling out a form in the arrival hall.

Anyway, I’d finally arrived in a very warm and sunny Gibraltar. You can get a taxi to your accommodation or there’s a bus stop not too far from the airport that will take you in to the centre of the country but with glorious weather I decided to walk to my hotel.

The very Northern point of Gibraltar to the very Southern point of Gibraltar is about 6 kilometers in length so it’s a really walkable country. The airport is in the very North of the country so you want to head South, in direction of that big ol’ rock, to get in to Gibraltar. You’ll know which way you need to go because the border crossing in to Spain is right in front of you when you come out of the airport and the rock is behind you and unmissable haha.

Interestingly to get in to the main part of Gibraltar you have to cross the runway which you’ve just flown in on. It’s quite unique and they’ll stop crossings when a plane is due to land or depart.

I walked in direction of the rock and even getting a little lost I’d soon arrived in what I considered to be the heart and soul of the country – Casemates Square. The square had a bit of a buzz and life to it. Additionally it’s in a really picturesque location so my first impressions of Gibraltar were good. I already felt like I was going to enjoy Gibraltar.

Gibraltar Casemates Daytime — Casemates Square

I think it was about 4-4:30 when I landed so by the time I’d walked in to Gibraltar I was ready to check in to my hotel and drop my things off. A friend had recommended a couple of places and I opted to stay at the Elliott Hotel which proved to be a good decision as it was a lovely hotel and in a really good location in relation to everywhere else in Gibraltar. I dropped my things off, relaxed for a little bit and then freshened up to head out and find some dinner.

I decided I’d stay pretty local. A friend over on Instagram lives in Gibraltar at the moment and had kindly sent a bunch of recommendations over to me – one of those was ‘The Skull’ which was just around the corner from my hotel so seemed particularly ideal on my first night given I’d yet to get my bearings with where things were.

Gibraltar The Skull — The Skull, Gibraltar

True to its name, everything at this little bar was Skull themed! Skull designed flooring, skulls lining the bar, skull-shaped lightbulbs, skull-inspired artwork and even skull-themed dishes. My chips turned up in a skull-designed glass, as did my cocktail that followed dinner haha. It was a nice little place and a good spot for my first evening. It was pretty empty though which surprised me a bit given England and Wales were playing eachother in the football and this particular bar were televising the game – admittedly another incentive for me to visit on my first night.

There’s no curfew in Gibraltar, unlike the UK currently, but because there were so few customers they didn’t stay open late. I was assured it’d be a bit more lively on Friday evening but with an early kicking-out time I had a little wander through Gibraltar to see what else was local to where I was staying.

In all honesty I was aiming for the waterfront but after little success finding it I admitted defeat. I didn’t really see anything else of particular interest on my wander so just headed back to my hotel and called it a night, ready to explore and get a proper glimpse of Gibraltar in the morning.

I woke up on Friday morning to darkness which was quite confusing. I thought it must still be early in the morning but even at 7, 7:30 in the morning it’s dark outside. The sun didn’t rise until about 8:30 in the morning which I found a little unsettling and also a little demotivating to get myself up and raring to go. I reckon I’d have been up and raring to go a bit earlier but instead I rolled over and went back to sleep, I wasn’t heading out to explore whilst it was still so dark.

Unfortunately this became a bit of a ‘bad habit’ if there’s such a thing on holiday. As much as I’d want to get my day going I just couldn’t drag myself out of bed before the sun was up. It was probably closer to 10 or 11am by the time I’d left my hotel and it felt like such a waste of my morning. I went and found a place to grab some breakfast but the slow start had set the tone for the rest of the day.

It ended up being a really relaxed day. There were a few things I wanted to do whilst in Gibraltar but none set for any particular day, I was largely winging it and just seeing where things took me.

Ultimately Friday just became a familiarisation day that allowed me to get my bearings with where things are in Gibraltar. I’d not had much chance to do so yet but I kind of used it to earmark where I’d spend the next few days. By the afternoon I’d wound up at the popular ‘Ocean Village’.

I wouldn’t call it a village as such but it’s where you’ll find a lot of the nightlife in Gibraltar. There’s a host of restaurants and bars floating above the water, joined by a variety of boats and yachts including the impressive ‘Sunborn’ which you can stay on and is also home to a casino.

I liked Ocean Village but it probably does cater more towards the tourists. That said, I was a tourist so found myself an outside seat at one of the bars and refreshed myself with a beer or two. Keen not to stay in one spot all day I did drag myself away from the temptation to just sit in the sun all afternoon and wandered back through the streets of Gibraltar before making my way back to Casemates Square.

As I said above, it really is the heart and soul of Gibraltar in my mind. You’ve got tourists and the locals intertwined and it makes for a really nice atmosphere and is also perfect for people-watching!

I must have arrived sometime between 3pm – 4pm because there was a huge collection of school children running around enjoying themselves whilst the cafes, pubs and restaurants were slowly filling up for the evening.

Due to a late breakfast I’d skipped lunch and found myself in that peckish dilemma of “is it too late for lunch / too early for dinner?” before eventually deciding I was too hungry to wait. I took a seat at the Italian restaurant ‘Tramonte Ristorante’ and treated myself to a pizza which ended up being pretty good!

The rest of my day was pretty uneventful, I didn’t do anything particularly noteworthy but I felt a lot more comfortable with where things were and the quickest ways to get around. I ended up getting a rather early night, particularly for a Friday, keen to make a better go of exploring on Saturday.

A few people knowing I was in Gibraltar had asked if I’d “seen the monkeys yet” and I’d decided going to the top of the rock was my plan for Saturday. However I sensibly took a look at the forecast and whilst warm, it looked like it was going to be a cloudy day and I thought better of it so instead I decided I’d head on down to ‘Europa Point’ at the Southern tip of Gibraltar.

With a bit of a walk ahead of me I kicked off my morning at this little cafe down the street from my hotel. Having missed out at Heathrow I ended up getting some pancakes which was the perfect way to start the day. I was then off on my journey “down South”.

The walk was a little over 2 miles, nothing too strenuous and most of it is coastal too so I’d definitely recommend walking it rather than hopping on a bus. There isn’t too much traffic so it’s a decent walk and offers some really pretty views of the coast and Spain to the West.

Along the way I stumbled upon public outdoor pool areas, some interesting historic buildings and structures and even a little waterfall which I really wasn’t expecting. It’s not a particularly long walk but it’s definitely easy to get distracted along the way which might slow you down a bit haha.

Eventually I reached this long dark tunnel which you have to pass through (coming this route anyway..) which seemed to go on for a bit longer than I was expecting.

As soon as you come out of the tunnel you’ll see a gorgeous mosque on your left. Unfortunately it seemed to be closed so there wasn’t an opportunity to take a look inside but I made sure to grab a couple of photos from the outside.

By this point you’re pretty much at Europa Point and the lighthouse on the Southern coast of Gibraltar.

Europa Point was probably my favourite part of Gibraltar. I think it just really resonated with the traveler within me. Just across the water was the North African coast and it just left me mesmerised!

Gibraltar Europa Point — You can vaguely see the outline of Africa, much more visible on a clear day!

On a clearer day it’d be so much more visible, my photos don’t do it any justice but Africa was right there! It’s one thing crossing state lines or country borders but to be stood in Gibraltar with Spain on my right and Africa in front of me – wow!

It was mindblowing in some ways. I came here fully aware of that fact so it’s not like it was a surprise but I couldn’t help but transport myself to historic times and put myself in that mindset. I just pictured being stood in Gibraltar with the curiosity and mystery of “hey.. what’s over there?” – “that’s Africa..”

Even now, with the world so accessible and with so much knowledge of other places Africa has that mystery. It was my hope to get to Morocco this year and it obviously didn’t pan out, much like Turkey, so this is the closest I’ve come to stepping on African soil. You can get a little closer in parts of Spain but realistically I knew this was as close as I’m ever likely to get to Africa without stepping in Africa.

I have a habit of romanticising travel, perhaps too much at times, but I was stood there looking across the water and definitely had that “pinch me” moment. There’s so much I don’t know about Africa and I think those of us from the Western world in general are guilty of that.

I found myself completely swept up in the lure of Africa. There’s not a huge amount in the vicinity of Europa Point but I think I could have just sat there all day day-dreaming. It’s a sight and experience you have to make time for in Gibraltar.

Also at Europa Point you’ll find a lighthouse and then a university. The university seemed very sports focused and it’s probably of little shock that I found myself drawn to the Europa Point stadium. It’s in such a stunning location with the rock and its surroundings providing a gorgeous background. Again, I think if I was ever playing on that pitch I’d just get lost within the scenery.

“Jason.. what are you doing? You’ve just let them score!”

Gibraltar Europa Point Stadium — Europa Point Stadium, Gibraltar

Dragging myself away from Europa Point I embarked on a coastal walk. The sun was beginning to make an appearance and it’s just a beautiful place to go for a wander. I stopped every so often to take photos of the views but my intended destination was Gorham’s Cave Complex – a World Heritage site.

This was a bit of a last minute decision. I’d only considered it once I realised how close it was to Europa Point. My lack of preparation meant I didn’t know that it was closed at the weekend so I arrived to find locked gates and subsequently no opportunity to see the cave complex on this particular trip. I turned back and took a slow walk back in to the heart of Gibraltar, via Europa Point again of course.

With the sun finally shining I did ponder whether I could squeeze in a trip up to the top of the rock and tick off both landmarks in one day. However in the end I took a more relaxed approach and decided I’d leave the Rock until tomorrow.

Thinking that it might be time to find somewhere for some food I made my way over to ‘Queensway Quay’ which is a gorgeous little harbour-like area with a handful of restaurants overlooking the water with numerous yachts and pretty boats parked on the docks.

This was somewhere that you’d probably be less inclined to just stumble upon unless you were actively looking for it so it felt a little less touristy than somewhere like Ocean Village. I found myself a table sat outside, ordered some beer and grabbed myself a late lunch whilst overlooking the harbour.

By this point I was pretty smitten with Gibraltar and I’d returned to day-dreaming, this time as a boat owner living the dream life in the sun. Sod going back to Corona-land, I was staying here.

Essentially this was the “South of France..” or “retire in Spain..” lifestyle but with the added boost of a common language. I sat people-watching and this cute couple were sat just infront of me seemingly making the best of their honeymoon. The, socially-distanced, table to the right was an older couple and it wasn’t long before the four of them had become acquainted and friendly and spent the next hour or so chatting.

There’s only one way I’d know that so no need to guess how I spent the next couple of hours. People-watching, sunshine, beers, pretty views, no responsibilities.. what more could you want? It felt almost like living in an alternative reality – “this is what life looks like in a country tackling Covid effectively..”. I was equally bliss and resentful. I was in no rush to leave Gibraltar and just wanted to soak up this feeling.

Eventually I opted to have a wander elsewhere and just get lost within the old town. Despite the huge rock that towers over Gibraltar, it’s such a walkable country and it’s nice to just wander aimlessly and see what you stumble upon. After a while I returned to the hotel to freshen up and relax for a bit before pondering where to spend the evening.

I decided I’d go and grab dinner around Casemates Square and find myself a nice spot to soak up the atmosphere. It’s a lovely spot to watch the sun go down and do some more people-watching. For a Saturday evening it wasn’t overly busy which surprised me a little but there was enough of a buzz that it kept me entertained.

I wasn’t in a rush to call it a night but fancied a change of scenery so thought I’d take a better glimpse at Ocean Village’s own nightlife. Again it wasn’t swarming with people but a little busier than it had been when I passed through on Wednesday. There’s a number of restaurants / bars that you can grab a drink at.

I started off at one bar that had been recommended to me and also had cheap cocktails. I was only going to grab the one cocktail but with a 2-for-1 offer it seemed silly not to have two. I was a little disappointed however that you couldn’t mix-and-match which would have allowed me to try two different cocktails. The bar in general wasn’t really my kind of place either, not solo anyway and it just wasn’t the vibe I was after.

I finished off my cocktails and swiftly moved on. Unlike in the UK currently, there’s no curfew in Gibraltar so I wasn’t having to glance at the clock for a 10pm close. I wandered over to another bar in the Ocean Village which I’d heard were really good for craft beers / ales.

That’s the one possible disappointment and, dare I say, gap in the market as far as Gibraltar is concerned. I decided early on in the trip that I was buying a boat and opening a brewery in Gibraltar because it stuns me that there are no breweries in Gibraltar – not one!

You won’t find locally-made beers in Gibraltar, they’re all imported and generally your options are San Miguel or Heineken in most places you visit – I generally opted for San Miguel but with how popular craft beers are right now it really surprises me. With the weather and dining-out style culture it is the perfect country for better beers and Gibraltar is seriously lacking in that department.

So I was looking forward to finishing off my evening by visiting somewhere that prided themselves on their craft beer selection. Sadly it doesn’t matter how good your menu is if none of the beers are in stock! I was bitterly disappointed. In the end I took my chance on a fruity gin. I’ve never really drunk gin but when better to try it than on holiday? It went down alright and I’m probably more pro-gin than I was before the trip. It was a beautifully decorated bar too so was a nice way to end the evening.

Sunday morning started like the two before it – pitch black! I’d continually wake up raring to go and the lack of sunlight ends up being so demotivating – back to sleep! I woke up a little while later and got myself ready to go up the rock.

I repeatedly debated whether I should climb it by foot or cheat and take the cablecar up. I unsurprisingly opted for the latter and I can’t say I have any regrets. It’s just so much more convenient haha.

At the top you’ve got 360 degree views overlooking the entire country and beyond. It’s definitely the ‘must-do’ of any trip to Gibraltar. It’s also where you’ll find the only wild monkeys in Europe!

I’ll be honest, I thought there’d be much more of them based on stuff I’d read. There were a handful fooling around but not that many. I was one of the earliest people to go up though so perhaps they’re more prominent later in the day when there are more tourists to steal goodies from. Not that I minded too much, I was happy they kept a good distance from me haha.

The views are spectacular and there’s a few other attractions dotted around such as the ‘Skywalk’ or the Windsor suspension bridge. Rather than take the cablecar back down I decided I’d walk down and tick off a few of the points of interest.

The area I probably spent the most time exploring was the ‘great siege tunnels’ in the lower part of the Rock area. It went in to a bit more of the history of Gibraltar which was interesting to read about. It was still pretty early so I had it pretty much all to myself so I could take a bit more time and get some fun photos too!

Outside of the tunnels there’s a couple more cool viewpoints but it was pretty much all downhill from there. I’d definitely recommend going early in the day, it was slowly getting busier on my way down than it had been when I’d first gone up.

By the time I’d made my way down the steps in to the old town I was feeling a bit peckish and I was really hoping to find a decent Sunday roast somewhere. I ended up going to ‘The Clipper’ and it was really, really good. Definitely worth a visit if you’re in Gibraltar on a Sunday, it was really good value too for the quality and quantity of food they served up.

After stuffing myself with food I wandered back over to where I’d started the day. Right by where you ride the cablecar is the botanical gardens and I was keen to have a wander through the gardens, I probably should have done so before I’d rode the cablecar up but I hadn’t really anticipated walking back down haha.

The botanical gardens are free to visit and definitely worthwhile visiting for that reason alone. I was expecting it to be a little busier given it was a Sunday afternoon by this point but it was still pretty quiet. Again, I wasn’t going to complain. It just meant I could enjoy a peaceful wander through and admire how pretty it is. I’m sure if I was a local I’d spend many an afternoon here and it wasn’t long before I’d found a bench to sit back, relax and admire the surroundings.

The gardens aren’t particularly huge so eventually I’d covered pretty much all of it and went back to wandering the streets of Gibraltar. By this point I’d pretty much seen all of Gibraltar that I’d wanted to, it’s worth remembering it’s a pretty small country and I’d ticked off the two big things I wanted to see in terms of the Rock and Europa Point. The rest of my Sunday was pretty chilled.

Sunday was my last night in Gibraltar so I wanted to end it by enjoying what felt like my “last taste of freedom”. I think Gibraltar is the kind of destination that I’d enjoy in normal circumstances. I think it had the perfect balance and feel of being a European destination but with a nice dusting of British influence on it that made it really appealing to me. Boat jokes aside, it’s somewhere I could easily see myself living.

That’s in normal circumstances of course. The irony wasn’t lost on me that I was lucky enough to have been able to escape for a few days but perhaps unfortunate enough that it had given me a taste of normality. Gibraltar had been perfect but left me feeling more resentful of what I was going home to.

I really liked Gibraltar but there was definitely a part of me that pondered how could you not in a pandemic? This was as normal as life had felt in a long time and I was desperate to cling on to that feeling of normality.

I treated myself to a steak on the last night in a restaurant over in Ocean Village. It proved to be a perfect spot to watch the sun go down accompanied with a beer. It was a world away from life back in England. I moved on to another bar, had another couple of cocktails and was trying to enjoy this final night for as long as possible. I even stayed out beyond 10pm – wild!

Sadly, it eventually it had to come to an end and was time to call it a night. Monday morning was really a struggle. The only part of Gibraltar I hadn’t really explored was its East coast and I had contemplated going over to Catalan Bay beach which the barman on my first night had said I’d have to visit.

However I just couldn’t drag myself out of bed. Luckily I didn’t have to check out until midday but I just wasn’t ready to go, to leave this false life and return to the normality of a pandemic. My slump wasn’t helped by the fact I knew the UK government were implementing new lockdown measures today and I was fearing the worst.

That’s not to say I didn’t think those measures were needed but to be in a relatively Covid-secure country and returning to a country that was spiraling out of control was difficult to accept on this particular occasion.

Regardless of how gloomy I felt about returning to the UK, what was the alternative? I checked out as close to noon as possible and figured I’d just go grab some lunch somewhere. Catalan Bay would have to wait until a future visit to Gibraltar, I only had a couple of hours left and didn’t want to go too far out my way.

Ocean Village’s proximity to the airport made it an ideal lunch spot and location to soak in the last few rays of sunshine before I had to say goodbye. Ordinarily I’m a “get-to-the-airport-early” kind of traveler but I did hold back a bit on this occasion.

Admittedly I knew Gibraltar’s airport was pretty small and that only one flight was departing Gibraltar so there wasn’t going to be a huge rush at the airport but the reality is I was still clinging on – just one more beer..

I slowly made my way back to the airport, again opting to walk. It’s only about 10-15 minutes from Ocean Village on foot. My later departure meant I got stopped at the runway crossing as we had to wait for a flight to land before they opened up the road to traffic and pedestrians – a nice little novelty experience to round off the trip.

The flight home was full on this occasion and soon enough I’d landed back in a wet London, Gibraltar’s sunshine was a distant memory.

As for those UK measures I’d been concerned about? The good news is they were much more lenient than I’d anticipated. I’d really feared the worst and I was surprised to discover that as far as my area of the UK was concerned it was “business as usual” and the measures in place were unchanged. It perked me up a little bit from my mood that morning.

The bad news? Well.. the measures were much more lenient than I’d anticipated. It was in equal part good and bad news. There was an air of inevitability about what had to happen to get this virus under control again in the UK and unbelievably it seemed that memo didn’t quite get as far as Downing Street.

As much as I loved Gibraltar I’m left pondering when we’re ever going to reach that point in the UK where life can resemble some form of reality again. Gibraltar was a wonderful trip but also a difficult one as it took me back to happier times and I wasn’t quite ready to give that up.

Anyway, I’ve rambled plenty so time to wrap up this post! I’m sure Gibraltar is a place I’ll return to but next time on the blog I’ll be continuing on with the “big 3-0” trip.

Stay tuned!

Jason

Lille – June 2018

As my last couple of blog posts indicated, my wanderlust was hitting me hard in 2018. I’d planned a huge summer trip spanning 30 days, six states, several cities but a big trip like that leaves you little wiggle room for the rest of the year.

After visiting Washington in February I had no other option to go gallivanting across the globe, I was very much restricted to weekend travel which is why I jumped at the opportunity to visit Manchester and Lincoln. I needed a travel ‘fix’ to get me by until the summer.

The most recent of those trips was Lincoln at the start of May. I came back from Lincoln and the big birthday trip at the end of July still felt so far away, call me spoilt, right? I felt like I had to squeeze in one last adventure before flying out to the USA for a month.

Unfortunately my conflicting issue was that as much as I was itching for adventure, that 30 day trip had its own drawbacks. I was trying to save money and the sensible option was to stay put. Yes, it’s a ‘long time’ to wait to go on holiday but saving my pennies had its own merits, I’d reap the benefits in the summer.

It was no good, I figured I had to compromise. I ‘needed’ a mini-getaway but I was determined to restrict myself to a daytrip. I couldn’t book accommodation so wherever I went in the UK would have to be doable in a daytrip.

I planned out various possibilities, weighing up the suitability of each destination as a day trip. How costly would it be? How flexible were the travel times? I don’t drive so was restricted to public transport, which isn’t only expensive in the UK but doesn’t always run as late as you hope it would do.

I wasn’t having too much success in finding somewhere that tempted me enough to visit. The most tempting places seemed to cost a fortune to get to on public transport and the cheaper options weren’t appealing enough for me to visit or were places I frequented often enough to not give me any real sense of adventure.

Something I did ponder was a trip on the Eurostar. They’d been peppering me with continuous adverts by email – “Hey Jason, we have a sale on right NOW..”

Would that work? Could I pop over to the continent for a day? They’re not ideal to visit in a day but I’d been itching to return to Paris or visit somewhere new in Belgium like Antwerp. Of course, one of the struggles with weekend travel on the Eurostar is its appealing to many other people too. Even if you can find one leg of the journey at the sale price, you can’t always tie it in with the other half of the journey..

Travel to Paris for only £0.04, return same day for £609.86..

I’m exaggerating obviously because it’s not that bad but it just wasn’t possible to find a cheap daytrip to places like Paris and alternatively it just felt a bit too far to go to somewhere like Amsterdam in a day. I was just about ready to give up when I thought I’d have a quick look at prices for Lille and voila!

LilleEurostar — London to Brussels, via Lille

I managed to find an early Saturday train from London to Lille and a late return train, both priced at £28. Additionally I had a £5 voucher to use which reduced my overall fare price to £53 which I thought was decent going. Some of the places / trains I’d been looking at within the UK were equally expensive, if not more so and I much preferred an excuse to flee the country for a day.

Soon enough it was June 30th and I was on my way, hoping for no delays to the Eurostar as I already had a limited amount of time to explore Lille.

Other than being somewhere in France, I can’t say I knew much about Lille prior to booking tickets but my minimal research indicated that Lille was perhaps a little more of a Flemish/Belgian city than French. My only other real experience of France had been in visiting Paris so I was intrigued to see a very different type of French city.

That Paris trip in 2016 had been in a very different climate. I found a scattering of snow and endless fog which meant I couldn’t even see half of the landmarks I’d been excited to see. I was perhaps the only person in history to have been to Paris and not to have seen the top of the Eiffel Tower, I’ve since been back and seen it in all of its glory but it’s a little underwhelming when you realise the top is hidden somewhere in the fog.

In contrast, I stepped out of Lille’s train station and the weather was beautiful. It was a perfectly sunny day to be exploring a new city. I strolled towards Lille’s city centre and kept my eyes peeled for anything eye-catching, I had nothing planned so was just winging it a little bit.

LilleChurch — Gorgeous church in sunny Lille

It wasn’t long before I stumbled upon this stunning church. It was beautiful and no less impressive on the inside either. The bonus of the weather also meant I had it largely to myself and it was surprisingly empty for a Saturday. The French and locals seemed to be making the most of the sunshine!

Having had a decent look around I moved on, passing an infinite number of shops along pedestrianised streets which were proving popular for Lille’s locals. I darted up, down and across various little streets before eventually reaching one of Lille’s main squares. The square was made up of a number of impressive buildings and pieces of architecture plus a host of outside tables with seating from the many nearby restaurants and cafes in the square.

LilleSquare — Cafe culture looking good in Lille!

Suddenly it felt a little more French. The cold weather meant I hadn’t fully experienced the French café culture in Paris that I’d imaged in my head, however it was in abundance here in Lille. Perfect for people-watching and watching the world go by, I wanted nothing more than to sit and join them. However I knew time here was limited and I wanted to see more of the city.

As I continued exploring I soon stumbled upon one of Lille’s other cathedrals. I’d seen a photo of this on Instagram, in which the Instagrammer in question called it a particularly ugly building and I disagreed. I thought its uniqueness actually looked quite nice.

LilleCathedral — Hideous cathedral in Lille

Seeing it in the flesh however completely changed my mind – it was hideous and I couldn’t help but laugh. Maybe all those editing tools such as photoshop do a great job of making it prettier on the eye when you see it online but I was unimpressed.

Although inside was absolutely stunning and I’d certainly recommend visiting. Its beauty was breathtaking and I couldn’t stop myself taking plenty of photos. It was a good reminder that you shouldn’t judge a book (or cathedral) by its cover. I’m glad I hadn’t let its ugly exterior put me off going in.

Coming back out of the cathedral I strolled down a few nearby streets hoping to find a spot to grab some lunch. As some of you will know from posts such as Weetabix Boy, I was quite a fussy eater as a child. So I’ve tried to be a little more adventurous the last few years and was keen to try a local Lille delicacy – the Potjevleesch – which I’d read about online.

I found a nice little restaurant that had it on the menu and figured I’d put it to the test. It was enjoyable enough without me needing to pretend it’s my favourite dish. I am glad I tried it and I’d have it again if I returned to Lille but I’m not sure it’ll ever be catching on elsewhere. However accompanied with a beer it was a nice lunch.

Whilst enjoying my lunch it hadn’t gone unnoticed that there was now a bit of a buzz and excitement in the air. The streets were suddenly noisier, French flags kept passing me as I looked through the window and cars were honking as they drove by. Something was happening!

LilleStreets — The beautiful streets of Lille

That something was football! I’m very much a “club football over international football” type of fan – that’s a whole other story but consequently it meant that when I was booking my tickets to Lille in May that it hadn’t really crossed my mind that a June trip would overlap with the football World Cup in 2018.

As the beginning of the World Cup approached it dawned on me and I had to take a look at the schedule, it just so happened that dependent on France’s progression in the tournament that there just might be a scenario where they’d be playing on the afternoon I was in Lille. “Could you imagine..?”

By the time the trip came around I knew that France would be playing Argentina (in Russia) whilst I was in the city and that I’d have the unique opportunity of experiencing the French supporting the French.

Now I’ll be honest here, I’ve never really credited French football with that same prestige or glamour as its European counterparts. It just doesn’t have that same history and I’ve often been quick to dismiss it as a serious footballing nation.

My point being that watching football in France has never had a huge appeal for me – I’d sooner go to Germany, Spain, Italy or even the likes of Turkey or Serbia where you might run in to more unwelcoming scenes but you at least appreciate they are football crazy in those countries!

To offer some merit to my beliefs, France’s most successful football team are Paris St Germain, who were only founded in 1970! They’re younger than my parents and yet they’re France’s most successful football club! It severely lacks the history that football has throughout the rest of the continent. English football had been played for more than 100 years at this point so as I said, I’ve always been quick to dismiss France as a “proper” footballing country.

LilleBar — The French love their football!

This trip went some way to making me stand up and take notice. After leaving the restaurant I’d had lunch at I strolled down the street and found this cosy little bar decked out in flags in preparation of the game. There was a sea of red, white and blue filling the place up and I could feel the atmosphere building.

I’d been in two minds about watching the game, because I wasn’t in the city for long, but the fans were already singing and the atmosphere drew me in. Better yet, Lille’s Flemish influences means that the city is home to some great beer so I ordered a delicious sounding beer at the bar and found myself a spot to stand and watch the game and enjoy the atmosphere.

It was a small bar so was already standing room only but as the minutes passed and we got closer to kickoff the crowd of people soon spilled over in to the streets trying to peek any glimpse of the TV. The songs kept coming and soon enough the players were walking out on to the pitch.

Shortly after La Marseillaise (France’s national anthem) was belting out of the TV and the rest of the room joined in unison. I’m sure I’ve heard the French national anthem countless times before on TV but hearing passionate French locals singing at the top of their lungs was a special moment to witness and one that will stick with me for some time. Have a listen below!

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The game kicked off and the noise settled a little bit, although some of the inhabitants regularly attempted to get some songs going. “Messi, Ciao, Messi, Ciao, Messi, Ciao, Ciao, Ciao..” was ringing in my head all afternoon with the locals offering an optimistic outlook that Lionel Messi and his colleagues would soon be heading home following defeat.

There was a huge part of me that wanted nothing more than to stay there all afternoon. A bit like my desire to do the same earlier this morning, there’s something about French culture that is slow. You’ve just got to sit back and enjoy the experience and what was the rush to leave this blissful little bar?

However my view of the game was actually quite minimal, trying to squeeze a glimpse between multiple backs of heads of French people wasn’t easy and I felt a little guilty that there were probably locals behind me having their view blocked by someone (me!) with no real passion for either team.

Similarly I knew my time in Lille was pretty limited and what better time to go and explore, safe in the knowledge that the majority of locals were preoccupied with the football.

The streets were certainly a bit quieter, up until I passed any bar anyway. Every one seemed to have hordes of people trying to get a glimpse of the action. I continued to stroll through the streets, not looking for anything in particular but happily wandering. Every now and then I’d hear a huge roar and a loud groan and pondered what was happening throughout the game.

As I continued to wander my eyes drifted towards this little passageway that had caught my eye and led me in to this beautiful little plaza-like place that was currently home to a book market. It was such a pretty setting and had a handful of people browsing the collection.

LilleBooks — Beautiful place to browse for books in Lille!

With time going by far too quickly, I walked through another passage which led me back to one of Lille’s main squares and I wanted to take some souvenirs home with me – a handful of postcards and I was also tempted to take a couple of local beers home with me to try (proved to be delicious!).

Having bought a few bits, I made my way over to some little park which was rather peaceful. There wasn’t really anyone around and it was a nice shaded spot to escape the sun bearing down on me. It was far away from the noise of some of the bars and showed me a small glimpse in to a different side of the city.

LillePark — Peace and quiet in the parks of Lille

Unfortunately my afternoon was disappearing far quicker than I would have liked and I had to keep one eye on the clock to ensure I made my train home.

In all honesty I wasn’t ready to leave. I’ve never had a huge fascination with France but my winter trip to Paris in 2016 had won me over a little bit. However despite the Flemish/Belgian influence, Lille felt like a France I’d always heard a fuss about but yet to actually experience. In the glorious summer sunshine this felt like the “real France” and one I’ve quickly begun to appreciate.

IMAG0826 — Lille quickly won me over. Easy to see why!

Perhaps the bonus of a football-fanatic city and good beer helped sway me but even prior to that Lille was pretty on the eye and had left an impression on me.

I slowly started drifting back towards the train station, keen to find a good dinner spot en route and it quickly became apparent who had won the football. I needn’t have seen the game to know France had won. The French were celebrating deliriously in the street and you could hear cars honking in the streets for miles. France had clearly been successful.

Bitterly it turned out to actually be probably the most exciting game of the entire tournament. France had beaten Argentina 4-3 and I’d, unforgivably, decided to give it a miss – in France of all places!

I grabbed a quick meal before saying my goodbyes with a heavy heart. It was perhaps fitting that I was leaving a happy and celebratory city behind, I’d really enjoyed Lille after all, but I also felt a little bittersweet. I didn’t want to be saying goodbye, I wanted to be staying one night at the very least.

After visiting the city myself I then read about a fellow blogger, Dylan at Shoot From The Trip, who visited Lille for a little longer and it just added to my regret that I hadn’t stayed for longer.

It was a wonderful place to visit for a daytrip and if you get the opportunity to visit I’d fully recommend it – just visit for longer if you can! It’s somewhere I’ll definitely return to.

Anyway, that wraps this one up! What’s coming up on the blog? Lots of USA content including that incredible 30 day trip! Stay tuned!

Jason

Lincoln – May 2018

Welcome back dear readers! I hope you’re all keeping well in a crazy environment but it’s business as usual here. It’s Thursday which means another blog post!

I said last time out it’s rare for me to have blogged about England and then here there are two English destinations on the bounce. In spite of a little staycation up in Manchester in the March, I was still itching for some adventure and with no annual leave to use and pennies to save towards the summer I had to look to my own country for inspiration.

Fortunately the football season keeps me occupied to a point between August and May but with the football season nearing its conclusion I was desperate to make the most of a free weekend and a city I’d been meaning to visit for a while was Lincoln.

It’s not too far from my home in Peterborough and yet I’d somehow never visited the city. It’s only about an hour away on the train so actually really easy for me to get to. Therefore on the first Sunday in May I decided I was going to go. It turned out to be a gorgeous day for a daytrip too. A surprisingly sunny bank holiday weekend, who would have thought?

LincolnCastleandCathedral — Lincoln castle and Lincoln cathedral

Anyway I hopped on the train mid-morning and a little while later I was arriving in to Lincoln. On a daytrip I figured there were probably two must sees in Lincoln – the castle and the cathedral. If I saw anything else whilst in the city I considered it a bonus.

I left the train station with no real clue which direction to go so I figured I’d just walk until I saw some signs. If you leave the station and walk straight the first thing you’re likely to stumble upon is Lincoln’s shopping district. You’ve got a shopping mall here and then a bunch of exterior shops too. Given it was a sunny Sunday and mid-morning it was inevitably crowded.

I quickly saw and followed signs towards the castle and cathedral. For anyone else that’s visited Lincoln you’ll likely know what this entails but I’d liken it to my struggles in climbing to the view point at Kerry Park in Seattle – it’s an uphill struggle! You know what the prize is at the top, beautiful architecture and history but it looks like a long way up when you’re at the bottom of the hill – aptly named ‘Steep Hill’ – they’re not joking!

On the plus side it is a beautiful walk up there at least. The streets are cobbled and there’s pretty and old buildings along the way – most of which home to shops or businesses of some sort that provide perfect shelter or respite from the climb.

Having reached the top myself and feeling the need for a reward of some kind I couldn’t help but tempt myself to an early lunch. I’d passed Brown’s Pie Shop, which I’d heard good things about, so figured it would be a perfect place to fill my stomach before any further exploration. The food was great, it’s somewhere I’d recommend visiting if you’re ever in Lincoln and was a worthy reward for my climb of Everest (Steep Hill).

I made the castle my first proper stop of the day. I hadn’t done any prior research so wasn’t sure what it would cost to visit, however as it turned out I’d timed my visit perfectly. There was some event on which meant entry was free to the public today. Ordinarily there’s an admission price of £14 plus a further fee if you want to walk the walls so I’d saved myself a good chunk of money by visiting today.

LincolnCastleEvent — Lincoln castle grounds

On the grounds was a tent set up for some artists performing live music. Further in to the ground were old planes set up on the grass which were pretty cool to look at. It’s a little pricey if you visit ordinarily but I still think I’d have been pretty content had I paid an admission, rather than getting a free visit.

The grounds are absolutely beautiful and that’s before you tackle the medieval wall walk. This is particularly worth doing as you can walk the walls of the castle at your own leisure and get incredible views over the city.

Lincoln Castle — Exploring the beautiful castle grounds!

I took so many photos, some of which I think are the best I’ve ever taken. Admittedly the clear blue skies added to them but I could have spent so much longer exploring the castle. My only surprise was that it wasn’t busier given the free admission. For all of the castles you’ll find in England, I’d say this is one of my favourites I’ve been to so far.

Opposite the castle is the cathedral. Inbetween were a host of markets selling little bits and pieces. I’m not sure if this is just a Sunday market or regular market but it was nice to have a quick look at some of the things on sale.

Escaping the market crowds I made my way over to the cathedral which is impressive in its own right. Like the castle it was surprisingly quiet too, the market inbetween the two seemed the busiest part of this area of the city. I enjoyed looking around for a little while, both interior and the exterior of the cathedral grounds. It’s worth a visit but there is an admission charge for the cathedral.

The castle and cathedral had taken up a bit of time between them and I was content I’d seen the main things I wanted to see in Lincoln. However I figured I’d also squeeze in a visit to the Medieval Bishops’ Palace.

I have to say, I actually found this a little underwhelming and wouldn’t go out of my way to recommend it. I had a brief look through the ruins but the highlight for me was probably some of the views of Lincoln’s cathedral from the gardens. That said, as disappointing as it was, it appears to be under renovation currently so perhaps wasn’t at its best on my visit. I’d be tempted to go back and see what has changed and if it’s improved at all.

Having seen all I wanted to I made my descent down the steep hill, feeling some sympathy for those heading upwards. At the bottom I decided to have a little stroll along the river which took me past the shopping mall, also aptly named ‘Waterside’. However I wasn’t really looking to do any shopping so made it a brief walk and headed back to the train station to enjoy my Sunday evening back in Peterborough.

LincolnTrainStation — Lincoln train station, time to go home!

It had been a fun few hours in Lincoln. The cathedral was impressive but the castle is undoubtedly the highlight of the city. The grounds are stunning but the views from the walls blew me away, just the luxury of being able to walk the walls make this a must visit I think.

I’d definitely recommend Lincoln as a daytrip, it’s a great place to spend a few hours. However if you find yourself tempted to visit for longer and want more ideas on what to do, I’d suggest checking out one of my favourite fellow bloggers for more inspiration. Marion recently spent three days in the area and wrote about it here.

Lincoln’s a university city so I’d be tempted to stay for at least a night next time and experience some of that ‘famous’ nightlife. I say famous, I just know a lot of people who’ve been to Lincoln University but still.. I’d like to go for longer next time!

Anyway, hopefully you enjoyed my first visit. I’ll wrap this one up! Next on the blog? Here’s a sneak preview of where I’ll be writing about next!

Stay tuned!

Jason