Well, Mr ShoeThatAlwaysFits and I are half way through our 10 day trip around Austria.
We’ve experienced culture in Vienna; kitschness & lederhosen in Graz; schnapps & stuffed marmosets up Grossglockner; detours & landslides around Innsbruck; coffee, cake and hills alive with the sound of music in Salzburg; and now we’re in the idyllic Salzkammergut region.
We’ve got a few more days exploring to go – ice caves a go go and more alpine villages than you can shake a cow bell at. And that’s without an endless supply of Mozart balls.
It may have been stressful getting here but, boy, are we enjoying ourselves.
Will post again once back in Blighty.
You’ve got to ask yourself with less than 4 days to go – is going on holiday actually worth it?
It will be, but right around this time you think you’re going mad. Mad as a bucket of frogs to be precise. It all gets a bit overwhelming – bills need to be paid, the washing and ironing need to be up-to-date, getting the right amount of food in the fridge is a black art and you want to change your bed linen so that you have a lovely clean bed to come back to. And that’s just at home – the countdown at work is worse, appraisals and 1:1 meetings need to be held, interviews for new posts need to be conducted, paperwork needs to completed and filed, and handover meetings on key projects must be prioritised.
And I still need to pluck, preen and pedicure my way into holiday mode. I also need a manicure and if I can fit it in, a visit to the hairdresser to cover up those sneaky grey strands that have so very conveniently reappeared this morning.
So if anyone asks me if I’m looking forward to my break, the answer on Wednesday evening when all of this is done will be a resounding “yes”, but until then I’ll be running around like an idiot making sure everything’s done. And probably swearing, under my breath admittedly, but swearing nonetheless.
My mantra for the next few days, “Going on holiday is fun, no really, it is”.
I have 7 working days left before I go on my summer holiday – this is both fabulous and daunting.
I’m really looking forward to 10 days off travelling around with Mr ShoeThatAlwaysFits who also needs a break as he’s been working his derriere off. We’re not very good at staying in one place and relaxing, we get cabin fever so we’re flying off to Europe on a 10 day road trip. I love road trips – he drives and I read interesting things out of guide books to him (in between naps). We roam and take photos all the while looking for interesting coffee shops and enticing patisseries. He loves mountains and I love the sea – our last break was to the seaside, therefore this time we’re heading to the Alps.
And so, I’m in countdown mode – frantically crossing items off my work to-do lists and adding more onto the bottom. It’s comforting (kind of) and it relaxes my control freak mentality. But the best part of all is reworking the holiday essentials packing list, tweaking and amending ad infinitum until it’s perfect. The red wedge hi tops are en route to me so here’s hoping that they fit – if not, I’ve found an alternative pair in town so all is not lost. I showed them to the Mr and he was surprised at how nearly practical they were – I’ll take that as approval then. Although my Mum, on hearing that I needed yet more shoes, lamented the loss of my white kicker boots that I’d had since primary school (yes that would make them more than 30 years old) which would have done me just fine ! Ho hum, you can’t win them all.
Lots of folks are coming back from their summer break rip roaring and ready to go. I’ve certainly noticed a renewed energy from those returning to work anyways.
But spare a thought for those of us who haven’t taken more than a few days off this summer – those of us who have battled on through the heat waves, the monsoon rain and the thunderstorms that have defined this epic summer.
But don’t feel too bad for me since we’re heading off for a 10 day break in less than 2 weeks time (hooray). However, it does mean more stress at work trying to get everything done before I go (and that’s quite the list).
I’ve compiled my holiday packing list too, but in doing so have realised that I need a new pair of trainers as I’m only taking 3 pairs of shoes with me – wearing one pair and packing two more. I’m taking the lovely yellow wedge sandals, some khaki Birkenstocks that go with everything but I also need something a bit more practical – a pair that are both supportive and good looking for some more strenuous activity. I was going to take my walking boots, but they’re just too ugly and only look good with some suitably outdoorsy clothes. So this weekend has been spent trawling the internet for something practical and stylish – and that’s easier said than done.
I’m also getting in those last batch of workouts and have averaged 3-4 a week at the moment which is pretty good for me. I may not be quite bikini fit yet, but I’m not that far off from where I want to be. So I’ll continue hitting the gym with gusto knowing that it’s doing me some kind of good – all the while getting rid of the muffin tops.
So off I go to have one last look and fill that online shopping cart, I need to do it soon so that I can break them in before we go. Well, that’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it 🙂
I’m a coffee loving kind of girl. In my prime I would be ordering an early morning, pre-travel gigantic 5 shot latte. How I loved them, they nurtured me from the passive state of near-sleep to the pre-dawn meeting prep that a long train journey brings.
I still love coffee, but tea has sneaked in over the years. Current favourites are Lipton’s Moroccan Spiced, any Earl Grey and any type of fruit tea. I avoid peppermint and camomile, they’re just too horrible to contemplate as I can’t get passed the smell to sip them.
Green tea used to live in the latter category, but slowly and surely I’ve begun to integrate it into my daily beverage intake. If I’m feeling particularly pious, I even drink it before that all important first cup of coffee. But that’s pretty unusual if I’m honest.
Put it down to trying to adopt a healthier lifestyle, cutting back on caffeine and upping the water levels. It still isn’t great – I never think, “mmmmm, that cup of green tea really hit the spot”, but I do want to believe it’s doing me good. I just wish it tasted a little bit better.
Don’t get me wrong, I love sport. I loved it long before the London Olympics. I’ve loved it since I was a clumsy little girl.
But, I just don’t understand cricket. I can admire it, and respect cricketers as true athletes, but even after a decade living down here in Cricket heaven, I still don’t really understand the rules, or why they bother at all.
I get the concepts – overs, unders, wickets, runs – it’s the scoring I can’t wrap my brain around. I just don’t care enough to learn the rules – life is too short to understand what a score of something like 436 for 3 actually means. What’s that about? Each season I feign interest with colleagues who perk up from their desks every so often asking what the latest score is. I gain kudos by repeating parrot style what’s just been reported – but if someone asked me to break it down any further I’d be stumped. See what I did there?
My idea of hell is travelling with a cricket fanatic colleague on a long car journey – I’ve been known to fake a kidney infection just to make us stop at more services so I can get a break from it.
I may be a philistine but life is too short for cricket.
I’m one of those people who get asked for directions no matter where I am, apparently because I have an open face whatever that is. Unfortunately, I have very little sense of direction and I don’t drive so I’m altogether useless at giving directions. And, I’m usually a visitor myself, so can be observed merrily following my little blue map dot ensuring I’m still heading in the right direction.
But strange things happen to me on my travels, not upsetting or dangerous, just a little odd.
Walking to the Office
- Wandering along placidly in the autumn sporting a faux fur gilet, I was waiting patiently for the green man at a crossing when I noticed that a Range Rover was coming to a stop. The passenger’s window was down and a beautiful, if somewhat large rottweiler was sitting there. He took one look at my faux fur gilet and leapt out of the window. He had me pressed up against the wall and was playfully tugging at my top – the owner was aghast, applied the handbreak and nearly gave himself a hernia trying to manhandle his enthusiastically friendly dog back into his car. I just laughed it off and carried on my way.
- Half a mile on from my dog incident, this time striding purposely towards the office, I was stopped by a rather tall and slightly dishevelled man. He grabbed my arms and shouted “Mine” at the top of his voice – I simply moved away, told him firmly, “No, not yours”, and walked on. Builders on the other side of the road shouted after me, “Don’t mind him love, he’s harmless”. Slightly disconcerting, but completely random.
Trains / Tube
- Me and public toilets don’t get along. Me and train toilets are usually a disaster. I had been travelling to different locations and meetings all day and I really needed the loo, so bravely I set off down the carriage. Luckily, it was a modern train and had one of those tardis-style toilets. All was well until I tried to get out; the door started to open, but ground to a halt with only about 2 inches of its exit available. I tried all of the buttons, I tried to force it open with my hands, all to no effect. Someone else came through the carriage – I was trying to explain through the door what had happened – he tried all of the same buttons from the outside, again to no effect. We combined efforts and tried to force the door with our hands. Nothing. My freedom-fighter went off to find the train manager and explain the situation. Someone with a tool kit was taken on at the next major station, after 40 minutes I was finally freed and made my sheepish way back to my seat, I got a cheer and a round of applause from my carriage commuters. My dislike for train toilets has only been strengthened since that experience.
- There are many obvious stories to tell about travelling on the tube in rush hour, sweaty armpits, no air conditioning and bad breath are the usual culprits. My experience was different. I shared a very small space near one of the exits on a District Line carriage with a large and skittish stick insect. How it made it’s way onto the carriage is anyone’s guess, but I had no desire for it to become attached to me. I was holding onto the ceiling hooks with one hand, and my laptop with the other and this creature kept trying to make it’s way closer and closer to me. I couldn’t move, and I have a fear of insects flying into my hair and not being able to find their way out, and this praying mantis look-a-like was making its way perilously close to me. Taller souls were equally uncomfortable being so close to it, so people were awkwardly positioned with their heads as far away from it as possible. That was the longest 15 stops of my life.
Now the more philosophical amongst us state that the journey is the destination, but sometimes all you want to do is to get to work in as straightforward a way as possible.