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Is it too early for a cream tea? Said no one ever. A cream tea is the little sister to the traditional afternoon high tea. Something we are very partial to and a topic I have written about previously.

For the uninitiated, a cream tea involves two warm scones, preferably just from the oven, strawberry jam, and lashings of clotted cream. Now, here is the key point. Clotted cream. Not whipped. Clotted. Cream so thick it could be mistaken for ice cream. And a cream tea is not a cream tea without clotted cream. 

But why am I making such a fuss over the cream that comes with our scones? Because, despite having many, many high teas in Australia, I have yet to find one that does clotted cream. I mean, what is so difficult about clotting cream? In truth, I don’t know. Maybe I should investigate. There has to be some reason that “traditional” high teas in Australia are just not, well, all that traditional.

What is definitely traditional is the part of England called The Cotswolds. Situated about an hour from London, and three hours south of our native Yorkshire, The Cotswolds are deemed an “area of national beauty”. And walking around it is obvious why. Cottages dating back centuries. A pub reputed to be the oldest in England. Rolling green fields, hemmed in by dry stone walls. 

We recently spent a glorious three days exploring The Cotswolds.. And cream teas are something that quaint little tea rooms in The Cotswolds do well. Extremely well. 

With excellent cream teas, and so much history and beauty, I am left scratching my head as to why I have never visited The Cotswolds previously. I spent the first forty years of my life living in England, and saw much of the world. Ten years living in Australia and now I start exploring England. Better late than never. And what better place to start than the historic Barnsley House and Spa. Built in 1697, Barnsley House has been run as a hotel since 2003. 

We had two nights in room 5, up in the eaves of the main building. Carrying our bags up the flights of old wooden stairs, creaking with every step, you immediately start getting a sense of the place. Our room was huge. A vestibule. Large bedroom to the left. And a very impressive bathroom to the right. Complete with a sumptuous free standing bath. I had my afternoon already planned out. 

Downstairs in the hotel is the “Potager” restaurant, a word I later learned is French for “kitchen garden”. And wandering around the garden, I came to see where the name comes from. A garden replete with herbs and vegetables, no doubt destined for the kitchen. We had an excellent dinner in the restaurant, with Mrs C proclaiming that her lamb was the best she has ever had. I have to say, the steak I had was tremendous. 

Breakfast both mornings was also in the restaurant. Imagine my delight when we came down on the first morning and I saw that the menu included a “full English”. If you have ever visited England you will be familar with what a “full English” is. The fact that it is traditionally served with black pudding is an added bonus.  An acquired taste, black pudding is something I love and can’t get a good version of in Australia. Who would have thought something made predominantly with pigs blood could be so hard to come by?

By day three we had departed Barnsley House and checked in to the Wild Thyme and Honey, a boutique hotel in the tiny village of Ampney Crucis. Attached to the excellent Crown pub, we ended up debating whether to cancel our onward plans and stay longer. It really was that delightful. 

And if I thought I had hit the gastronomic highs at Barnsley House, they were just about to go into orbit. Dinner at the Crown pub was a “luxury fish pie” so good I decided that if I ever find myself on death row, which I sincerely hope I don’t, I now have a new “last supper”. Packed with all kinds of creatures from the sea, and a hard boiled egg squeezed in, and topped with Duchess potatoes, this fish pie for one could have fed a family. It fed me, and I just about managed to roll out of the restaurant.

The rolling had changed to walking by the morning and we spent our final hours exploring the tiny village. As with our whole stay in the Cotswolds I was blown away by the houses, the cottages, and the overall look of the area. Never has the word, “wow”, been so overused.

It may have taken me 50 years to finally visit the Cotswolds. I will not be waiting quite so long next time. 

When we last chatted, I was telling you about the travel mishaps we had. The ones that had happened in the first week. And I am glad to report (as at the time of writing) that we have yet to suffer any new inconveniences.

What I can tell you is that we have made it to England. For the first time in three years. We took our time in getting here since leaving Perth. Taking the chance to call in at a few favourite travel spots. And visit a few new ones.

Explore With Fran

For any of you following our journey on Instagram (explore_with_fran), and if you aren’t, what are you waiting for?, you will have seen some of the sights and places that we have been lucky enough to see. Noosa and Brisbane in Queensland saw us soaking up the sun, and sampling big city life. Hamilton Island had us living the life of luxury, with qualia cementing its reputation as resort of choice for those special occasions. 

The Lion State

Singapore again showed me why it is one of my favourite travel destinations. A city state country that runs like clockwork. Efficiency and cleanliness are by-words that describe the Lion State. We stayed in a different location for this visit, right in the heart of Robertson’s Quay. On the river and a little more refined than its upstart neighbours, Clarke and Boat Quay. 

And whilst I am talking of refined, I must mention the Champagne High Tea we enjoyed in the impressive surroundings of the Raffles Hotel lobby. From the high tea, we had a walk to the very “insta worthy” Atlas Bar, for gin and tonics. In a bar that looks steeped in history, and very redolent of the 1920s, we sat back in quiet grandeur, reflecting on a very impressive afternoon.

First Time Dubai

Leaving Singapore, I got the chance to add to the “countries I have visited” list. As the taxi screamed down the freeway, I was convinced we were going to die. Never have I been so close to a car in front, at such speed. I was left to ponder, “would I have enjoyed Dubai had I survived this taxi ride?”

We did survive the taxi ride, somehow, and we really enjoyed our four nights in Dubai. We were joined by Dave and Jane and it was great to catch up over some fabulous dinners, the most notable being at Hell’s Kitchen, in the hotel. Alcohol prices in Dubai have to be seen to be believed and thankfully we had the foresight to pick up a bottle of wine and a small bottle of whisky in Singapore airport.

A phrase I used a lot when we lived in Perth, was “hotter than hell”. When my weather app told me that the temperature in Dubai “feels like 55 degrees” I had to do a double take. This really was hotter than hell. It was the most oppressive heat I have experienced and the swimming pool was the perfect place to cool down.

We certainly cooled down a few days later, when we landed at Manchester airport in the evening. Yes, this is supposed to be summer, but is it. Really? What are guaranteed are the long evenings. With the sun not going down until around 9.30pm, my body clock is needing to do a reset. It is hard getting to sleep whilst it is still light out.

The long days are allowing us to have long morning walks, and days catching up with friends and family. Through the pandemic, everyone has had a tough couple of years. We have been away for three years. A long time to be separated from family. Until we decide on what the next stage of our travel plans look like, we will make the most of being back.

Embracing life

Travel is sometimes mistakenly, in my opinion, seen as running away. I have a different perspective. Of course I do. I see a decision to travel as a decision to run towards life. To embrace it. Travel is life. With all life’s ups and downs. Life is a rollercoaster. Life is described in Buddhism as suffering. We need to learn to accept. And move on. And so with travel. 

Undoubtedly, travel brings many highs. Seeing new countries. Experiencing new cultures up close brings a perspective you just don’t get if all you are ever exposed to is what you have always known. 

Travel opens your eyes to the fact that we are all the same. We are all human. All seven billion of us. Yes, many of us have different beliefs and values, and that is what makes the world so interesting. 

Travel Stories

So, making a decision to travel is making a decision to embrace all life’s uncertainties. Any traveller will tell you that the most interesting stories they have, have come out of adversity. Something that feels terrible in the moment and then makes a great story to tell a few years later over a few beers. 

I expect to have these ups and downs. I just don’t want to have them all in the first week. One week into our travels and already we have had our fair share. Starting on the first day we left Perth. 

Every Travellers Nightmare

We were stood around the luggage conveyor belt waiting for my bag. We already had Victoria’s. And we checked them in together. Mine won’t be long, I assumed. We waited. And waited. And waited some more. We waited until the airport had almost completely emptied. 

No bag. With a flight out of Brisbane the very next day, this was not the way we intended to start our travels. What was even more surprising was the queue at Qantas passenger services. Of other customers whose bags had not turned up. And from other flights. I have since read that this is a problem that is starting to blow out of control for Qantas as they suffer the ramifications of all those redundancies they made. You reap what you sow. 

A nervous night unfolded with us frantically searching for places in the Brisbane CBD that opened early the next morning, allowing me to pick up some essentials before flying out to Hamilton Island. Essentials such as underwear, toothbrush, deodorant, shorts, and a couple of t-shirts to wear.

Through dinner I got the phone call that brought much relief. My bag had been found and was being flown to Brisbane. I would be reunited with my life possessions early the next morning. Which in itself turned out to cause more anxiety. 

With The Clock Ticking Down

The bag was due to arrive early in the morning and yet we had to leave at 10am to head back to the airport. By 9.30am I still didn’t have my bag but I had tracking on my phone that showed an icon of a little van driving around Brisbane, dropping off orphaned bags. With minutes to spare it arrived at the hotel, and we were off again, with all our bags in tow.

Little did we know then that our next travel mishap was only a few days away. Laying around the pool at qualia, on Hamilton Island, we reflected on an amazing few days in paradise. Excitedly looking ahead to the next stage of our trip, four relaxing days in Noosa. A farewell champagne preceded an air conditioned ride to the airport. An airport we found ourselves stranded in all day.

Unexpected Cancellation

Our plane arrived in from Brisbane, on time, and then developed an “engineering problem”. Being the small island that Hamilton is, there are no full time engineers on the island. This was an issue. A big issue. That only got worse. After four hours of no further updates we were suddenly told to make our way outside where we were to collect our bags and we were being bussed to the ferry port.

Yes, my friends, we were leaving the island by boat. To Airlie Beach, almost a couple of hours away. From there, we knew that another bus was waiting for us to transport us to Mackay airport, ANOTHER two hours away. Whether we were staying at the airport, or getting on a plane, none of the frustrated passengers amongst us knew. And the Qantas flight crew travelling with us, who were supposed to fly the plane to Brisbane, weren’t saying much either.

Finding Mackay On A Map

By now, the sun had set, as had our hopes of making it to Noosa this evening. We had to ring and cancel dinner plans, and call to move the hire car to the next day. It was only en route to Mackay that our Qantas travel app suddenly showed us as checked into a flight from Mackay to Brisbane, that evening. But we had nowhere to stay in Brisbane. This was the worst possible outcome for us.

After much searching, and a few telephone calls, Victoria found us a budget hotel. And when I say budget, think broken lifts, and missing light bulbs, budget. That said, when we finally got there, just before midnight, we were just glad to have a bed. Somewhere to sleep, and put all memories of the day behind us.

How Travel Brings Perspective

The day was not what we had planned when we woke up that morning, but isn’t that just like life? We don’t always know what the days are going to throw at us, and yet the sun always sets, to rise again the following day. We take what learnings we can and share our gratitude that we get to start all over anew each day. And the new day brought Noosa, a tropical paradise a short drive from Brisbane.

We are hoping that the trip does not bring anymore dramas, at least for a while!

Leaving Sydney

Monday, March 23, 2020, was the day we left Sydney. The day we were due to embark on our travel sabbatical. Two years of saving. Allowing us to explore new countries, and to immerse ourselves in different cultures. We didn’t spend as much as we expected.

We got as far as Perth before the world closed in on itself. Countries took a protectionist approach to the burgeoning pandemic. Borders were closed to everyone but citizens of each country. Even within countries, such as here in Australia, borders were closed internally, creating mini countries within a country. It was a very strange time.

116 weeks later, some 813 days, we are once again packing up all our possessions, our life, and having them carted off to storage. This time we are doing it on the west coast. We could either say that we are just starting our travels, or we could reframe it as, we are now two years into it.

Leaving Perth

Either way, things are getting real. Again. We are down to a backpack each. And a day bag. The things in there are slightly different from two years ago. Newer, but we have had to apply the same minimalism. And it is hard. Difficult. Deciding what to pack when you could be away for 12 months. Living through different seasons. 

It may be the season of summer in the UK, where we will be spending our first large stint of time, but summer in the UK means something very different to summer elsewhere. So we have to be judicious with what we pack. A great tip I read many years ago, when embarking on long term travel, was to lay out all the clothes you think you need, then pack half of it. Easier said than done, believe me.

A Simpler Life

Although, once done, it does make travelling so much easier. No encumbrances. A couple of bags that hold everything you have. No space for trinkets and souvenirs that only gather dust once you are back home. A fruit bowl that looked “interesting” in the dimly lit market. A miniature camel that has no place in your lounge at home. No, none of that. 

We will be taking our bags and our first port of call will be Hamilton Island, in Queensland. The trip we had booked for my 50th celebration, last Xmas, and which got cancelled due to the aforementioned border closures.

A few months later than planned but we will be staying at the Qualia resort, something we are very excited about. Time to decompress after the last few weeks of arranging, packing up, and cleaning. Leaving a rental in Australia is rather intense if you want your bond money back. Then there are all the utilities to cancel. A virtual mailbox to find. The list goes on and on.

Qualia, here we come, eventually

The only thing on my list when we hit Qualia will be a dip in the pool and a cocktail, or three. And yes, before you remind me, we are travelling, not on holiday. So we have to reset our expectations, but for the first part of this trip we have agreed to a “holiday” budget. The hotels when we travel will have significantly fewer stars. If we can even afford a hotel.

Until that time, we intend to kick back and enjoy ourselves. Starting with a strong coffee at Perth airport.

I will be sure to let you all know how we get on.

Have you tried floating yet?

And then it went dark. And I mean very dark. Pitch black. Never could I remember it being quite this dark. Even in the remotest parts of Australia, there is the moon. And the stars. Planes flickering across the skies. Satellites. Now, nothing. Then the soft, soothing music stopped. 

Is this the loudest I have ever heard silence? What does silence sound like? It is not often we get the chance to experience it this purely. We go about our lives bombarded by a cacophony of sound. Whether we realise it or not. When all this disappears, it can be deafening. All I could do was embrace it. I was going to be here for some time.

Floating at the Swan Valley Retreat

I was staying at the Swan Valley Retreat, 30 minutes from the Perth CBD, and finally got to “float”. Having read numerous reports about the benefits of floating, I figured it was time to get undressed, and try it for myself.

A float tank, sometimes called a sensory deprivation tank, is a large, sci-fi looking pod, filled with enough salt water, at a temperature perfectly matched to your body, to allow you to float and give your body the sensation of zero gravity. You climb inside, close the lid on top of you, and lie on your back, gently floating. For the first few minutes there is soft music to accompany you, and then nothing until one hour later when the soft music returns to signal your time is up.

Claustraphobia Whilst Floating?

It is a strange sensation. No sound. No light. Just you, floating, with your thoughts. It sounds a little bit daunting, doesn’t it? And I did find myself wondering how long I had been in there. Whether I should meditate. Or just breathe and be mindful.

“Your mind will run away with you”, I was advised, as I was being shown around. Just relax, and let it. Maybe my meditation practice will come in handy for the next 60 minutes.

Hopefully, mediatating may help me stop worrying whether I would get claustrophobic. I once had to make a hasty exit out of the tunnels of Cu Chi in Ho Chi Minh city, Vietnam. Would I be hastily looking for the lid of the float tank to let in some light?

Thankfully, I was not claustrophobic. I opened my eyes. Everything black. I closed them, same outcome. I let my eyes adjust to the dark, and well, it was just dark. All light is completely shut off.

As it turns out, I did meditate. And it did help. I also did some mindful breathing. I let my mind wander wherever it wanted to go. Always coming back to the breath. Then, I heard the music come back on. One hour has passed already? Couldn’t I stay in just a little longer? I was just getting comfortable.

I honestly felt a lot more relaxed, and chilled, even after just one float. I read afterwards that a 60 minute float is equivalent to a full nights sleep. I’m all in. Already I am wondering, when I can next float?

Closing a chapter in Perth

This week saw us both close the chapter on our Perth careers. Victoria, a couple of days ahead of me, aligned to the one year anniversary of her starting her contract. I think she has earned the nickname “ping pong pom” as she seems to keep leaving that big yellow bank, and then returning. My stint at Synergy was almost two years. I remember those early days in Perth, job hunting. In a world that was finding its feet due to the new coronavirus pandemic, job opportunities were few and far between. I knew the work I didn’t want to do, but would I have a choice? That said, it was the job that nearly wasn’t. 

The hiring manager thought my CV did not show enough experience for the advertised scrum master role. Despite the previous three years showing me holding roles in Sydney that entailed me training, coaching, and mentoring scrum masters. Thankfully, the recruiter, thanks George, persisted, and got me an interview with people who actually knew what they were doing, thanks Pete and Mike, and the rest is history.

Reflecting on our time in Perth

I never imagined we would be in Perth some two years later, and this is testament to how beautiful the state of Western Australia is, and also how great the people are working within the walls of the company that is literally keeping the lights on for WA. And through the people I also got a better understanding of what it means to be a WAer. I learned that a guernsey is not an island near the UK. That bush chook, Emu Export. is a drink. Walpole is a place to camp. And that the men running around in 1970s sports vests and shorts are actually playing a sport that the world has never heard of, but is taken rather seriously all the same.

Have I mentioned our passion for Western Australian wine?

What is taken seriously in WA is the wine. And for such a small wine region, that is relatively modern, over 25% of Australia’s premium wine is produced here in the Margaret River region. When Tom Cullity planted his first vines in 1967, calling the vineyard Vasse Felix, little did he know what he was starting. Now there are over 200 vineyards, many of the best in class, and we are (still) doing the best we can to get around them all. Our quest continues next week with a “last hurrah” to Margaret River, not knowing when we will return.

Time to wrap things up in Perth

It was by design that we finished work a month ahead of us leaving Australia. We knew that we would have a lot to sort in the apartment, and we didn’t want to feel rushed. The plan was to have a chilled 4 weeks before heading off. OK. That was the plan. Now we have the Margaret River trip, on the back of two nights in the Swan Valley wine region. A trip to Fremantle will follow shortly afterwards, as will a three night side trip to Melbourne. I can see that we will still be packing boxes in the days before we leave Perth, heading to Queensland in mid June.

The big 5-0. Eventually…

The Queensland trip should have happened at christmas. For my milestone birthday, and we all now know that COVID had other plans. We will finally get to spend those three nights in the lap of luxury at Qualia resort on Hamilton Island. Ending our current stay in Australia with nights in both Noosa and Brisbane. Short stops in Singapore and Dubai will precede our arrival into the UK, early July.

What is on the reading list?

I get worn out just reading this and know that I will need to plan lots of downtime in between, just to stay centred, and calm. I have just discovered float tanks, and more of that in a future blog. I know I will be doing lots of reading. Getting in the mood for our overseas travelling I am currently reading a book by the very talented Alistair McGuinness. 

Ali is a friend I met through work and I was very impressed to learn that not only has he managed to swim around Busselton Jetty, 3.6kms in open water, but he has also written five books. Or is that six? I am losing count. At the moment I am working my way through, “Wild About Africa”, daydreaming about the African plains, and the dizzy heights of Mt Kilimanjaro. Ali writes a great book. Part travelogue, part history lesson, with lots of humour thrown in. Who can imagine climbing Mt Kilimanjaro in a pair of pink tracksuit bottoms? I encourage you to go and pick up a copy and read it.

In the meantime, we have places to be, and things to do. Sabbaticals are not all about sitting around and drinking gin and tonics. Are they?

Adios, amigos!