Over the past year or so I have been selecting photographs I’ve taken on many travels, and put a story to them.
When I reached a milestone of 50, I decided to make them into a book, and, in doing so, I have gone through each and revised them, making some longer, and almost a short story.
50 photographs, 50 stories. I’ve called it, “Inspiration, Maybe”
It will be available soon.
Over the past year or so I have been selecting photographs I’ve taken on many travels, and put a story to them.
When I reached a milestone of 50, I decided to make them into a book, and, in doing so, I have gone through each and revised them, making some longer, and almost a short story.
50 photographs, 50 stories. I’ve called it, “Inspiration, Maybe”
It will be available soon.
Over the past year or so I have been selecting photographs I’ve taken on many travels, and put a story to them.
When I reached a milestone of 50, I decided to make them into a book, and, in doing so, I have gone through each and revised them, making some longer, and almost a short story.
50 photographs, 50 stories. I’ve called it, “Inspiration, Maybe”
It will be available soon.
One minute I was sitting out in my office, working on some tweets, and the next I woke up, staring at a black screen.
I thought we’d lost power.
No, I’d been asleep for a long time.
To be honest, I’m worn out. It’s going to be the end of the year soon, and a time when it’s supposed to be for relaxation, go on holidays, do something else, because I’m finding life is getting more and more hectic.
Yes, I think I’ll go away somewhere, but at the same time I’ll be subconsciously looking for new locales for stories, the people, the places, what goes on, all different to my usual humdrum.
So, not a holiday in the true sense of the word.
What put me into this trance-like state was writing the next line, yep, it was as simple as that. I stopped at a particular point where I had something else to say, and it just felt like the train had come to the end of the track, out there, in the middle of nowhere.
I wrote that line in my mind, and it sounded good, much the same as we sometimes say something in our mind before we speak, and when we finally do, it sounded better in my head than out loud.
Perhaps I’m losing my touch.
Perhaps that ability to sum up everything I want to say in less than 200 characters is beginning to desert me, and old age and decrepitude is setting in.
Which reminds me, pills before bed.
Perhaps I’m just tired and it’s time to go to bed.
I keep putting it off because sometimes I can’t go to sleep and I’m just lying there staring at the ceiling, sometimes the cinema of my dreams.
I imagine I’m somewhere else, someone else, doing something else.
But not in a helicopter. Not tonight. Nor in Hong Kong, in the middle of world war two, chasing and being chased by bad guys, or on a treasure hunt.
Tonight it’s going to be a sinking ship.
Gotta run!
Over the past year or so I have been selecting photographs I’ve taken on many travels, and put a story to them.
When I reached a milestone of 50, I decided to make them into a book, and, in doing so, I have gone through each and revised them, making some longer, and almost a short story.
50 photographs, 50 stories. I’ve called it, “Inspiration, Maybe”
It will be available soon.
The trouble with living in Queensland, in Australia, in winter is that invariably there is no winter, well, not winter like most people know it.
If we want winter, we have to go south to Victoria or Tasmania, or over to New Zealand, and the south island.
We were in New Zeland last year for the winter, but that was so that our grandchildren could experience snow for the first time, as it does not snow where we live, and, in fact, at this stage of winter, the end of July, the temperatures have been hovering around 23 degrees centigrade.
That’s not cold.
But, the nights are reasonably cooler and we’ve been getting temperatures from 6 degrees to 12 degrees centigrade. About the same as the daytime temperatures down south.
Would I prefer to go back? No.
If I want to experience Winter, I will go to Canada, where we have also been recently, and where it was minus 21 degrees, the coldest I have ever been.
So…
Where has July gone? I’ve been doing more than just observing the weather and fighting with Chester, the irascible cat.
From the last WIP report, I am still working on four stories, updating the progress in an episodic form on this blog, namely
A war story based around a castle in Italy
A story that started with a helicopter crash, and only got worse for the protagonist
A story about a surveillance gig that has gone wrong
A story about a treasure hunt, but with a few sidebars.
Then there is my private detective novel which is nearing completion, the editing had got as far as episode 101 out of 110. The end is in sight.
And Chester continually provides me with laughs and at times anguish, some of which ends up in this blog. I’m not sure how I’m going to cope without him if anything happens. He is getting on, and at last count, I believe he is about 17 years old and much more in cat years.
But like any other writer, there is always more going on, and I have several other novels and an anthology of stories based on photographs about to be completed, and, hopefully, by September, published.
That is the plan, and as you all know only too well the best-laid plans of mice and men can always go astray.
Let’s hope, for once, they don’t.
Over the past year or so I have been selecting photographs I’ve taken on many travels, and put a story to them.
When I reached a milestone of 50, I decided to make them into a book, and, in doing so, I have gone through each and revised them, making some longer, and almost a short story.
50 photographs, 50 stories. I’ve called it, “Inspiration, Maybe”
It will be available soon.
Hotels can also be one of the major let downs of a holiday.
They can also be extensive fodder for writing material. For the main stories I write, hotel stays feature prominently, and so each experience, no matter how insignificant, is another paragraph in my book of experiences.
So…
If you are going to use a travel agent to pick a hotel for you, make sure you check as much as you can before you see them, because no matter how it is described, seeing it, in reality, is always completely different than the pictures in a brochure and sometimes on the Internet. It requires research and a good look at TripAdvisor.
Or word of mouth by someone you know and trust who have stayed there.
Take, for instance, staying in a five-star hotel, the usual stomping ground of the rich and famous. It is always interesting to see how the less privileged fare. Where hotel staff is supposed to treat each guest equally, it’s not always the case. Certainly, if you’re flashing money around, the staff will be happy to take it, though you may not necessarily get what you’re expecting.
We were once lucky enough to be in the highest hotel loyalty level and this gives us a number of privileges; at times working in our favor, but it is not always the case.
Privilege can sometimes count for nothing. It often depends on the humor of the front desk clerk and woe betide you if you get the receptionist from hell.
Been there, done that, more than once.
Then there is the room.
There is such a wide variety of rooms available, even if the hotel site or brochure has representative pictures, the odds are you can still get a room that is nothing like you’re expecting or were promised.
Believe me, there are rooms with a view, overlooking pigeon coops or air-conditioning vents. And if you’re lucky, at Niagara Falls, it might be that six inches of window space that allows a very limited view of the falls.
Still, why should I complain, you can see the Falls … can you not?
A bone of contention often can be the location of the hotel and sometimes parking facilities, not the least of which is the cost Valet parking; given the extortionate cost sometimes it’s better to just forget a car.
It is nothing like the movies, you just do not drive up to the front entrance, get out, hand the keys to the concierge, and expect everything else to happen by magic.
It doesn’t.
One time we waited for over an hour for our luggage to be delivered, and that was after three phone calls to the concierge desk.
Sometimes you can be reasonably near transport, yes, if you could walk the distance (which feels like the length of a marathon) to the nearest bus or tram stop.
The problem is we both have trouble with knees and ankles and walking distances are difficult at the best of times, and for us, it is a long, long way when you can’t walk and that’s when the hotel starts to feel like a prison. Taxis may be cheap but when you have to use them three or four times a day it all adds up.
Also, be wary when a hotel says it is close to public transport. While that may be true in London, anywhere else and especially in Europe, you could find yourself in the middle of nowhere.
It’s when you discover your travel agent didn’t exactly lie but it is why that weekly rate was so cheap. In the end, the sum of the taxi fares and the accommodation turns out to be dearer that if you stayed at the Savoy.
So, those front line experiences are fodder for the travel blogger, and people who are also known as road warriors, the true frequent flyers.
There is a very large gulf between five stars and three and sometimes three can be very generous. And of course, l now have a list of hotels l would never stay in again, the names of which might surprise you.
For a writer, a place takes on a whole new meaning as we subconsciously look for locations in which parts of our stories will play out. Of course, at the time, we have no idea what those parts of stories will be, but notes, mentally and physically, are taken for future reference.
And, unlike the usual tourist, we always see it differently. I know I do.
Apologies now if I have misspelled any street, piazza or any other names.
The first time we arrived in Florence was by train, from Innsbruck in Austria. We had been booked into the Hotel Brunelleschi, based on the fact it was built over part of a 12th-century monastery, it was conveniently located, and was a luxury hotel.
We took a taxi, not knowing how far it was, and found it tucked away in a street, via Sant’elisabetta, not far from Florence’s cathedral, the Duomo. The taxi barely fitted through the streets. First impressions, it was very old, second impression, the room we were given was amazing, with a view over the main street, and wafting up from a food shop below, the aroma of newly baked waffles. We had to have one.
Words cannot describe how amazing it was to wake up that first morning and look out at the bright sunshine and blue sky. We were in for a hot day, but that wasn’t going to deter the tourist in us. Of course, after we had a great breakfast. I particularly liked the crispy bacon.
The first place on the list to visit was the Piazza del Duomo, where the cathedral is located, and the Porta del Paradiso. We went into the church, and also did a side trip down into the crypt. We did not climb to the top of Brunelleschi’s cupola. We tried the pizza, and hearing that the gelato was very expensive in the main part of the city, ventured further afield and found a gelato vendor that was inexpensive. As the day was very hot it was a welcome relief.
The Ponte Vecchio, the bridge that crosses the Arno. We walked to the bridge, taking in the views up and down the river before crossing to the other side, then back towards the Piazza Santa Croce. On our most recent visit there was a football competition, Calcio Fiorentino, in progress that had taken over the whole Piazza, and during the day there was a parade where all the teams and others dressed in the historic clothing dating back to the 15th century.
The Galleria dell’Accademia was also high on the list of places to visit, and we left the hotel early as we had heard the queues are long to get in. They were right. We were at the end of a very, very long queue stretching back to Via delgi Alfani. We were in the queue for about an hour and a half and it didn’t seem to move very quickly.
Then some people passing by said that we could go to the Museo Di San Marco, and purchase tickets to enter the gallery at a particular time. We had also read or heard something similar, and, taking a risk we left the queue and went in search. We found it at the Piazza San Marco, purchased tickets for 13:30 and had time to have lunch before turning up at the entrance for our timeslot, and sure enough, with others who had also purchased tickets, we went in.
Just out of curiosity I went back to the queue to see when the people in front of us were, and they still had an hour before gaining admission.
We saw everything that was recommended, including the famous statue of David, though I had a lot of trouble taking a photo when people kept walking in front.
The Piazza Della Signoria has a large number of statues, including another of David, the Marzocco, the symbol of Florence, Il Perseo, the fountain of Neptune, Poseidon, Perseus with the head of Medusa, and a hall of statues adjacent to the Palazzo Vecchio.
Florence is old, the roads are cobbled and narrow, and there are many trails one can follow and discover something new at the end of every twist and turn.
I have to go back, other than the fact I need a new wallet and belt made from Italian leather. My wife loves the purses and handbags, also leather, though the scarves have only recently been added to her list of most wanted items. I want to simply soak up the atmosphere, relax, eat the pasta and drink the endless supply of Moretti’s.
Venice is definitely a city to explore. It has an incredible number of canals and walkways, and each time we would start our exploration from St Marks square.
Everyone I have spoken to about exploring Venice has told me how easy it is to get lost. It has not happened to me, but with the infinite number of ways you can go, I guess it is possible.
We started our exploration of Venice in St Marks square, where, on one side there was the Museo di Palazzo Ducale and, next door, the Basilica di San Marco. Early morning and/or at high tide, water can be seen bubbling up from under the square, partially flooding it. I have seen this happen several times. Each morning as we walked from the hotel (the time we stayed in the Savoia and Jolanda) we passed the Bridge of Sighs.
Around the other three sides of the square are archways and shops. We have bought both confectionary and souvenirs from some of these stores, albeit relatively expensive. Prices are cheaper in stores that are away from the square and we found some of these when we walked from St Marks square to the Railway station, through many walkways, and crossing many bridges, and passing through a number of small piazzas. That day, after the trek, we caught the waterbus back to San Marco, and then went on the tour of the Museo di Palazzo Du which included the dungeons and the Bridge of Sighs from the inside. It took a few hours, longer than I’d anticipated because there was so much to see.
The next day, we caught the waterbus from Sam Marco to the Ponte di Rialto bridge. Just upstream from the wharf there was a very large passenger ship, and I noticed there were a number of passengers from the ship on the waterbus, one of whom spoke to us about visiting Venice. I didn’t realize we looked like professional tourists who knew where we were going. After a pleasant conversation, and taking in the views up and down the Grand Canal, we disembarked and headed for the bridge, looking at the shops, mostly selling upmarket and expensive gifts, and eventually crossing to the other side where there was a lot of small market type stalls selling souvenirs as well as clothes, and most importantly, it being a hot day, cold Limonata. This was my first taste of Limonata and I was hooked.
Continuing on from there was a wide street at the end and a number of restaurants where we had lunch. We had a map of Venice and I was going to plot a course back to the hotel, taking what would be a large circular route that would come out at the Accademia Bridge, and further on to the Terminal Fusina Venezia where there was another church to explore, the Santa Maria del Rosario.
It was useful knowledge for the second time we visited Venice because the waterbus from the Hilton hotel made its first stop, before San Marco, there. We also discovered on that second visit a number of restaurants on the way from the terminal and church to the Accademia Bridge.
Items to note:
Restaurants off the beaten track were much cheaper and the food a lot different to that in the middle of the tourist areas.
There are a lot of churches, big and small, tucked away in interesting spots where there are small piazza’s. You can look in all of them, though some asked for a small fee.
Souvenirs, coffee, and confectionary are very expensive in St Marks square.
Thrills, Spills, and just a dash of Romance 