The beautiful rose Felcity Kendal gave us in Louise’s memory
Went to get an HRT prescription last week, and thought it worth mentioning to the Doc that I was feeling exhausted, and a bit dizzy plus I am losing weight (a kg fell off since I returned from China, now 53 kgs). She took some blood tests to rule out a number of things including under-active thyroid, mycoplasma (a form of pneumonia prevalent in Singapore) and Vitamin B 12 deficiency.
The shady market scene in one of the backstreet hutongs
It’s the anniversary of Dad’s death two years ago, and I need to do something positive to take my mind of all the losses of recent years.
So I decide to branch out and see some of Beijing on my own: the hutongs beckon. Hutongs are the very core of the city, vibrant and thriving communities, which date back to Mongol times. In the 1950s there were as many of 6000 of these streets crisscrossing the city – all east to west for good feng shui – but the bulldozers moved in and razed many to the ground in the name of progress. Now around 2000 remain, and the government seems to have realised that they are good tourist attractions and can feed their coffers with tax; the destruction seems to be on hold. Continue reading
Golden roofs of the Forbidden City
My second tour, to all the classic sites – Tian’anmen Square, The Forbidden City, The Temple of Heaven and the Summer Palace – is far less fun than my trip to the Wall. As I said before, it’s all about the company you keep: the two German girls of Turkish origin were perfectly nice, but kept to themselves, and the guide – who proudly showed us photos of him with Daniel Craig, Bill Clinton and other celebs – was, as a result, rather big for his boots and decided that the three of us did not merit any more than a cursory whizz around. He also had a smartass answer for everything, which grated after a while. Continue reading
on top of the Wall
Here I am in Beijing, and it’s hot! We arrived late Monday afternoon and the first thing I did was to book a tour, The Forbidden City and all the main attractions in Beijing, or so I thought. Imagine my surprise when I discover that I am in fact going to the Great Wall at 7 am! Language is a problem here, even in international hotels… Continue reading
It was this big!
Believe it or not it’s been nine months since we have had a proper holiday (in Malapascua – https://vickygoestravelling.com/2013/08/13/in-which-we-dive-with-thresher-sharks-and-sea-horses/): our last one to Wakotobi was cancelled on the day of departure by my admission to hospital, so we felt we deserved a mini-break to relax and chill. I know many people might think my life is one long holiday, living in the tropics and swimming every day, or tagging along to Ross’s exotic work destinations but, believe me, living with cancer is hard work. Continue reading
Now back in Singapore after a smooth trip over. It’s been an eventful week with a public holiday, hard work for Ross and an unwelcome health scare to boot.
May Day takes us by surprise and with an unexpected free day on our hands and nothing planned – seemed naughty to take a long weekend after so much time away, as most of Singapore does – so we decide to visit the extraordinary Haw Par Villa, as recommended by one of Louise’s friends. Continue reading
Dents du Midi in afternoon sunshine
Easter week in Switzerland is drawing to a close. Tommy and his two friends – all Thomases too – depart today, and we tomorrow. Continue reading
It’s a problem getting round in a city where no one speaks English, on your own, with a gammy leg to boot. Do you arm yourself with characters on pieces of paper, to show to taxi drivers, and hope for the best, or take a tour? Continue reading
Classic view!
The trip to Mt Fuji does not start well. Picked up in a large bus at our hotel and told I would have to pay at the bus station before departure. Premonitions of chaos as the bus circles the station three times before we can get off – sakura season (cherry blossom), the busiest time of the year. Continue reading
The gardens at Royan-ji
‘No problem finding your train, all well signposted,’ the concierge in Tokyo assures me. Arriving at Tokyo station to take bullet train Nazomi 121 to Kyoto in peak rush hour, we find the place teeming with people running in all directions and the boards only giving information for the next 20minutes. In Japan, few people speak English, but by brandishing our tickets at a man in uniform, we are ably directed to the correct platform. Continue reading
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