Explore with Fran

Join me on the journey as I travel, eat, and drink my way around the world

Hamilton Island – November 2018

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As I sat sipping my complimentary champagne, in the reception of the Beach Club hotel, with sweeping views out to the infinity pool, and beyond to the sea, I was reminded how blessed I am.  And everything I have to be grateful for.

Champagne at the Beach Club
Shouldn’t this be how every hotel greets you?

Met on arrival at Hamilton Island airport by the effervescent Beach Club staff, we were soon whisked off, in air-conditioned comfort, without even a thought for collecting our checked in bag.  In fact, the next time we saw it was in our room.  It got there before we did by some kind of island magic.

Having only 57 rooms, you may wonder how we managed to end up in room 211.   Yeah, I’m not sure either.  The Beach Club is split over two levels, and our room was upstairs, with a view that was simply breathtaking.  Lulled to sleep, and gently woken in the morning, by the sound of waves lightly lapping the shore, which was almost within touching distance, this really was a slice of paradise.

View from the room

Long being a fan of buying experiences over “things”, the holiday started in style.   Lounge access, priority boarding, and some excellent Margaret River Cabernet Sauvignon, so good I had to try a second glass, to complement our light lunch.  Confirming that I had made the right decision in taking Qantas up on their offer to upgrade to business class for our flight from Sydney.  It may seem rather extravagant for a flight of just over 2 hours, but this was a birthday celebration we weren’t going to forget.

Hamilton Island is located in the Great Barrier Reef, Queensland, just off the coast of Airlie Beach.  Only a short hop by flight from Sydney, planes arrive at the small airport, the only commercial airport in the Whitsunday Islands.  So small is the Island, that from landing, to being at your hotel is only a matter of minutes.

The whole island is owned by Bob Oatley and his family.  More famous for making wine, the Oatley’s own and run the vast majority of the accommodation on the island, which is used almost exclusively for tourism.  That said, it is becoming an increasingly attractive place for people to retire to, and I did browse the real estate windows, considering never returning to the big city.  Anybody got a spare couple of million dollars?

As the island is on the Great Barrier reef, the snorkelling is great, even just walking in from the beach, which is what we did.  Imagine our surprise when we suddenly came across a gargantuan sea turtle, swimming along, in the shallow depths.  The coral here is not as vivid as what can be seen much further out, but for an afternoon, just splashing around, we saw enough to keep us transfixed.

And it is not just in the water that you get close up and personal with the wildlife.  Early morning, and as dusk settles in, the wallabies come out to play.  Grazing in, and around the hotel grounds, it is obvious the wallabies couldn’t care less about you, and just want to get on living their lives alongside their fellow islanders.

Should you want to get a little more active during your stay, try out one of the many bush trails.  Of the whole island, only 25% is developed, leaving many, many kilometers of walking tracks, where you can find some amazing hidden bays.  If you want to spoil a good walk, you could take your clubs across the water, to Dent Island, and try your luck on the 18 hole Championship golf course.

Regular visitors. Just keep your food hidden.
Island life

The sunsets on Hamilton are wondrous, and there is only one place to be come sunset.  One Tree Hill is on everybody’s “must do” list whilst on the island.  And when we arrived, it looked as though the rest of the island were already there.  Up here, earlier in the day, it was very quiet, with nary a golf buggy in sight.  But coming back for sun down, chauffeur driven from the hotel no less, the road up was lined, literally lined with buggy after buggy.  Thankfully, we had packed a couple of cold beers, so we fit in perfectly with the live music, and party vibe as we bid farewell to the day, and gently eased into the evening.

View from One Tree Hill

As no private vehicles are allowed on the island, the ubiquitous electric golf buggy is the only way to get around.  The island is small, and walk-able, but in the Queensland heat, you soon want to take it a little easier.  Hired by the hour, or the day, buggies are a constant sight around the island, never really going fast enough to make you feel you had to be constantly alert when wandering around.  This was the first time I had driven one, and it took me a while to get used to how slow you go.  A little like driving a dodgem at the fairground.  Turn the key, press the “F” button, and press hard on the accelerator.  How to reverse?  Just as simple.  Press the “R” button instead.

The Beach Club hotel could not be in a better location.  Right on the beach, funnily enough.  With an infinity pool framed by large palm trees.  Fancy a change?  Then there are loungers on the private beach, with staff from the hotel only too happy to bring you a cold beer when things get too hot.  

But all that being said, the key selling point for me, the thing that made me part with my hard-earned cash, was the fact that the Beach Club is an adults only hotel.  And it is only when you leave the hotel, and see just how many families with children there are on the island, you really appreciate the peace, and serenity of the Beach Club.  Worth every single dollar.

Sustainability is a big thing on Hamilton Island, and this comes through in the little things.  Each guest at the Beach Club is provided with a refillable bottle, that can be refilled constantly at the hotel’s filtered water station.  Still and sparkling.  And any straw that is used is paper.  Why do you even need straws you may ask?  For the fancy cocktails, obviously.  Although, I did have problems finishing my pina colada as my paper straw disintegrated.

Food is a highlight of any trip, and this was no exception.  Dinner was had twice at the hotel restaurant, and was excellent on both occasions.  Served where we had our daily breakfasts, fringing the beach, it really was food with a view.

Deciding what to have for breakfast

On our first evening we had the degustation menu, trying such delights as house cured salmon, Malaysian style coconut cream curry, and house made limoncello as a palate cleanser (which was delicious).  For our final night on the island we went a la carte, and I had one of the best dishes I have ever had. Ever.  Anywhere.  It was the tagliolini, with barramundi, mussels, and lots more.  Oh my.  Words fail me.

Seafood tagliolini

Would I go back to Hamilton Island?  In a heartbeat.  Would I stay at the Beach Club again?  I wouldn’t even think of staying anywhere else.  Right now I am looking at a fairly packed 2019 calendar, trying to work out where I could squeeze in a return visit.

 

Long Weekend in The Hunter Valley – October 2018

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As I was sitting on the large wooden deck, sipping the strong coffee that I hoped would slowly start breathing life into my tired body, I came face to face with them.   Skipping through the paddock, down through the eucalyptus trees that fringed the creek, and abruptly stopping on spotting me.  Ears twitching. Alert at all times.  And fast.   Very fast.

Kangaroos in the wild
The locals are friendly
Don’t mess with him!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Indigenous to Australia, estimates put the number of kangaroos here at 34 million.  This morning’s visitors were a doe, and her joey, of the Eastern Grey variety.  It is one of the highlights of our trips to the country, be it the Hunter Valley, or inland to Mudgee, that we get to see so much wildlife, including the roos, in their natural environment.

This trip was to the Hunter, and was our first there this year, in what has become an annual pilgrimage.  As well as the wildlife, the wide open spaces, the lack of traffic, and the solitude, there is also the little matter of some of the world’s best wines to sample.  And inevitably buy.  Although, due to the number of bottles of wine stockpiling at home, we had told ourselves we would be very restrained on this trip.

Suitably fuelled up, both the hire car, and ourselves, and after a great breakfast at Cafe Mosman, we hit the road around 10.30am.   Being a public holiday weekend, what we would call a Bank Holiday in the UK, we knew the traffic leaving the city would be bad.  We didn’t expect it to be quite so bad.  Coming up through the suburbs of St Leonards, Wahroonga, and everywhere in between, it took us 1 hour before we even hit the motorway.  At least from here it was plain sailing.

Pulling off at Calga, and bypassing the Australian Wildlife Centre for once, we took the tourist route, up through the valley, and towards the charming little town of Wollombi.  A place that I would definitely recommend for a coffee, sandwich, and a browse of the little arts and crafts shops.  But today, we were just passing through.  We had other things on our minds, and soon we were sat in the courtyard of the delightful Krinklewood winery, nibbling locally made cheeses, and working our way down the wine tasting menu.

It had taken us two and half hours, door to cellar door.  I had expected the journey to be slightly quicker, but then I never expect the sheer volume of traffic that we encounter.  But now, I had exhaled, took some deep breaths of the fresh country air, and was in chill mode.  A mode I would not be exiting until around lunchtime on Monday.

What does take me slightly longer is regaining my sense of perspective.  You see, on arrival at Krinklewood, I shuddered at how busy it was.  Good lord, there were maybe 4, or 5 small tables occupied.  Yes, only a handful of people in reality. That said, I was much happier after approximately 20 minutes, when we had the whole courtyard to ourselves.

Remember the promise we made ourselves about showing restraint with wine purchases?  Cue us walking out the cellar door with the first 6 bottles. Krinklewood is one of our favourite vineyards, and knowing they rarely sell to bottle shops in Australia, we knew we had to take our opportunity to stock up the wine cellar.  At least that was our excuse.

Greenway Wines

On the recommendation of Ruth in the cellar door, we then drove next door (which in the Hunter is quite a drive), and visited Ann of Greenway Wines.  A vineyard we hadn’t visited before.  How exciting.  A new addition to the “wine tasting our way around the world” spreadsheet.  Greenway is what you would call a boutique winery.  Very small.  But as with a lot of the boutique wineries we search out, it was quiet.  In fact, we were the only ones at the cellar door, so we got a very good tasting, of some very good wines.  The Pinot Gris was excellent but the stand out for me was “The Architect” shiraz.  And yes, we walked away with more bottles of wine.

Experience told me that mobile phone reception is patchy in the Hunter.  Some places non-existent. The same with wi-fi in a lot of the accommodation.  This is one of the things that appeals about our trips up here.  But, we do have to find our accommodation.  Easier said than done with no phone reception.  Google is our friend here, with the offline map download option.  Driving back from Broke, along Hermitage Road, and into Belford, along several country roads, some just dirt tracks, had us feeling we were completely lost.  Without the offline map on my phone we would never have found our accommodation.

Block Eight villa
Our accommodation for the weekend

Block Eight vineyard has one large house for rent, and 3 self-contained villas. We were in one of the villas.  Very spacious.  Wooden floors throughout.  A double set of twin doors, opening out onto the balcony, with views down to the water.  Taking pride of place, in the centre of the room, staunchly sat between the two sets of doors, was a squat, black wood burner.  Not that we will be need it, based on the temperature, but I know that I won’t be able to resist throwing a few logs on tonight.

Dropping off our bags, we went for a walk around the very large grounds of Block Eight, saying hello to the resident pig, goats, chickens and peacocks, whilst each of us (Vik and I, not the animals) were secretly deliberating if it was too soon to start on the new purchases,  (spoiler alert: the answer is always NO, in the Hunter), and which of them would be first.

Getting around the Hunter is easy when you are driving.  Not quite as easy when you have been drinking, and want to drink more.  One bottle in, and knowing we had a dinner reservation, we pre-booked a taxi.  Later that evening, walking to the entrance of Block Eight in pitch darkness, the stars were amazing.  Breathtaking.  The lack of light pollution once you leave the city allows you to appreciate the world above us.  The fun of determining what is a satellite, against a shooting star.  We were brought back to earth with headlights, the only headlights, in the distance, signalling to us that our taxi was approaching.

Botanica Restaurant is in the grounds of Spicers Retreat, and only about 15 minutes drive from our villa.  The food was good, but I somehow felt it was lacking the wow factor.  Maybe because I had decided to have a meat free night, something that I very rarely do.  The spanner crab and bisque starter were very good, as was the fish I had for main course.  But, it just didn’t hit the spot in the same way that the pork knuckle did that I had recently at Riley Street Garage in Sydney.

Morning coffee

Sunday morning dawned with my meeting the kangaroos.  The early mornings are one of my ultimate highlights of our weekends in the country.  Taking my coffee outside onto the deck. Watching the mist slowly rise over the water. Ducks splashing about.  Kangaroos coming down for a drink.  The unmistakable smell of the eucalypt trees.  Life slows right down in these moments.  Moments to cherish, and be thankful for.

One of the perks of staying in the country is often a breakfast hamper that you get.  The eggs literally could not be fresher, as free range as they come, from the chucks here on the property.  Bacon, fresh sourdough bread, and some black pudding I had brought up specially from our local butcher, and I was set up for the day.

When I tell you about lunch, you may feel that all I do on these weekends is eat and drink.  You would be right.  100%.  Lunch was at the Verandah Restaurant, on the Calais Estate vineyard.  Tapas style.  And very good.  Complemented with a glass of their very own semillon.  The Hunter is renowned for excellent semillons.  And excellent I am sure they are.  However, over the years I have realised I only really enjoy very young semillons.  Anything that has been in the bottle over 2 years just develops into a “classic” semillon.  Deep golden, nutty, with notes of honey.  It sounds delicious.  But the distinctive taste is not to my liking, in the same way that the disappointing, highly oaked chardonnays that used to dominate the supermarket shelves years ago.

Across the road was Gemelli Estate, a vineyard we last visited a few years ago. A brief tasting, and one bottle of wine purchased, we headed back towards the villa, stopping off at a place that had caught my eye earlier in the day.  

Black Creek Farm has a fabulous cellar door, with a deck that sits out over the vineyard.  Ably guarded from birds by Wilson the collie dog, Black Creek is run by husband and wife team, Jean and Nadine.  Originally from France, but living the last 20 years in Australia, the couple decided to make the big change in the pace of their life by moving up to the Hunter once their children had grown up.  They were now doing an excellent job running Black Creek, producing some very quaffable wines under the “Thélème” banner.  I even got the whole back story to the name.  Clearly very passionate about the wines they produce, we had an excellent, very informative tasting.  Jean took us through the wine list, tasting wines side by side to better compare, whilst Nadine supplied us with cheese and crackers to help the palate.  Yes, we walked away with yet more bottles of wine.

Monday morning brought October with it.  The second month of spring.  Slowly waking, and turning over, I tentatively gave the head a little shake to see if I was suffering from the excesses of yesterday.   I should have been.  We drank a lot of wine.  What with the tastings.  And the bottle of champagne we brought with us to celebrate being away, which we drank watching the sunset. And then the local wines we subsequently drank.  I should have been, and expected to be, very dusty.  I usually am on weekends in the Hunter.  However, I felt great.  So much that I jumped up, made a coffee, and lit up the BBQ to cook breakfast.

We reluctantly packed up, and checked out, and made our way to the vineyard with quite possibly the best views in the Hunter.  Audrey Wilkinson produce some very good wines, but so early in the day we were only here for the views, and a little stretch of the legs.  The fresh air did us good.  So much so that after a short drive we were once again crossing the Hunter, on our way to taste wine.  This time at Iron Gate estate.  Our first visit.  A new one for the spreadsheet.  As with the boutique wineries, a quiet cellar door always allows for a more personal service.  Once again we were given the opportunity to taste the same wines, of different vintages, side by side.  Need I tell you that we left with more bottles in the boot?

I am always left with a feeling of sadness leaving the Hunter.  But at the same time happy, and very grateful that we get the opportunity to spend time in a world-class wine region, almost on our doorstep.  The sadness is the realisation we have to leave the tranquillity behind and return to the madness that is city life in Sydney.  Horrendous traffic, a 3 hour drive, and we were once again back to reality.  Packing our wine away, and checking our calendars for the next free weekend.

Always sad to leave

Experimenting with memoir – Let me know your thoughts

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For some time, I have being collaborating with a fellow creator, Phil (i_am_foggy), on a memoir type book.  Writing a chapter each on how we met, and how our lives took us from Yorkshire, to new homes across the globe.  We are not sure where we will take this, but it is good to go through the process.  The posts are published to our Medium publication, but thought I would share a post here, and see if this kind of thing is of any interest.

A lot has changed over the years.  You notice this more when you get older, and start getting a little introspective.  When I say a little more, I obviously mean a lot more. I was born introspective, and have got worse with the passing of time. Birthdays have a good way of bringing this on.  As do the year ends. And for me, both come within a week of each other. Creating a natural pause in life’s usual rhythm. And it helps that I have time off work. Time to spend with friends and loved ones.  Assessing where I am in life. And making little tweaks, or adjustments to stay on course.

Not that I believe we can totally chart the course of our lives.  Life has a habit of getting in the way of our plans. And sometimes all we can do is roll with it.  But some markers help me set a little direction. And keep me focussed on my life goals.

If you have ever read a self help book, and I have, possibly too many, you will know that the most commonly asked question is a variation of, if tonight is your last night on earth, what would have regretted not doing?  Not what do you regret doing. There is no fixing that, other than learning from the experience. But, what do you regret not doing?  At the end of each year, and with each passing birthday, I allow myself a little time to think about this, and then what can I do to ensure I am not left with these regrets.

This is not to be confused with some kind of existential crisis.  Or the onset of a mid life crisis. Am I too old for this? What would you classify as mid life?  I have images of midlife crises being suffered by men entering their 40s. I’m at the stage of exiting my 40s.  Does this become a two thirds life crisis? Will people in their 50s be suffering midlife crises in a decade from now? No, my problem is not a midlife crisis, I don’t think.  It is simply an acknowledgement that we have one life, we can do what we want with it, so what do I want to do.

Invariably most of my thoughts centre around travel, and my mind scans a mental globe for the places I yearn to go to, and haven’t yet.  And it is a yearning. A deep desire to see as much of the world as possible. I once almost picked up one of those scratch maps of the world, that you can slowly scratch off the countries you visit.  What stopped me was the knowledge, the deep knowledge that I would only get depressed, and start fixating on where I hadn’t been, not where I had.

A by product of some of these travel dreams involve learning a second language.  Not only do I find it incredibly impressive hearing people seamlessly switch between languages, but I also feel ignorant, and lazy, that I know only the one.  One of my travel dreams involves living and immersing myself in the life and culture of a foreign speaking country. Preferably a Spanish speaking country.

I’m not sure I was always like this.  Or if I was, it was a latent, sleeping desire, that I hadn’t unleashed.  And didn’t get unleashed until my early 20s. Up to that point I had only left the UK twice.  Both short haul trips. Both for a period of 7 days. I was hardly Phileas Fogg. But that backpacking trip to Australia, in the summer of 1994, was the trigger.  The point I can look back on and say, you, you are responsible for the wanderlust that has been a big part of my life ever since.

Maybe I was born with a travelling gene.  Perhaps it is somewhere in my family tree.  Some long lost family member who I can attribute this longing to.  Maybe I wasn’t born with it, but subsequently developed it. But whichever way around it was, it no doubt had a large part to play in my finding myself in Dublin, alone, on a wet Monday in April back in 2006.

For most of my adult life I have done whatever I can to ensure my life includes a large element of unconventionality.  Sometimes to the point where I have pressed the self destruct button if I felt things were getting too settled. The status quo unnerves me.  I can’t explain why, only to tell you it does. If life starts to feel too comfortable, too settled, I start to feel very uneasy. Start questioning my every decision.  Start looking for ways to flip the coin again and see how it lands.

Because, heads or tails, life goes on.  Sometimes in a different direction. Sometimes in a better direction.  Sometimes, worse, at least for a while. But rest assured, life does go on.  And by throwing away what I have, opens my life up to what I don’t have. If I keep doing this, how can I possibly experience that, is how my mind works.  To date, my life has been full of amazing experiences. I have had the love of some amazing people. Some still love me. Some would probably prefer I was dead.  Most are probably ambivalent. A lot will have forgotten me. But I have made these choices. And probably will continue to.

I could churn out cliche after cliche for you, but I don’t need to.  I only need to tell you how I feel, and what my life philosophy is. My life could end at any point.  Literally. I hope it doesn’t, but accepting that knowledge frees you to enjoy life more fully. I buy into the Buddhist philosophy that life is just a phase, in the same way that death is a phase.  You can’t have one, without the other. I am reconciled to this knowledge. I am not saying that everyday is a holiday. Or that I don’t have any responsibilities. I do. That is part of living too.  But I like to keep any responsibilities to a minimum. And I like to keep my possessions to a minimum, where possible. And in between working, to pay my way in life, I also like to apportion a large part of my income to travel plans, and life experiences for the next 12 months.  Why 12 months? I believe that this is a manageable horizon to plan against. The next 12 months is close enough to be able to make tangible plans and really believe they will come to fruition. Beyond that, life tends to take over.

Sure, I could try and have grand plans for later years.  Try and provide an answer to the asinine interview question that asks “where do you want to be in 5 years?”  I don’t know, I want to shout. How do any of us? Should I just get my head down for a number of years and enjoy my life when i’m retired?  No thank you. That approach is not for me, for a number of reasons. Amongst them is the number of people, friends and family, I know that have had the same “plan”, only to not then be around to enjoy their freedom.  And if they were, would they be in the physical shape they wanted to be to travel and enjoy the hardships that travel brings?

So for now, my life remains a precarious balance.  I do a job that I would rather not do, just so I can earn the money I need to do the things I like to do.  The ideal scenario is to get a job, or vocation, that I enjoy. And yes, that dream still burns. I would love to get out of the offices that I have spent over 20 years in.  Actually, today is my 29th anniversary of starting work.  Shit, where has that time gone?

I would love to create something. I recently read that the fabulous author, E. Annie Proulx didn’t write her first novel until she was 57. I can still dream. I would love to be my own boss.  As with all my plans, these remain on the list, and hopefully, one New Year’s Eve, when I am pencilling in my plans for the following year, these make the cut.

Would you call these a bucket list?  I do. Even if in the truest sense of the phrase is that you know your destiny, your departure date, and there are things you have a time limit to complete. I call mine my annual bucket list.  Things I want to experience, accomplish, and see before I know i’m dying. Well, I KNOW i’m dying. We all are. We just don’t know when.

I am obviously older than I think, according to a new story published by the Lonely Planet.  Apparently, Thailand have introduced a new level of long stay visa, to attract “seniors” in the autumn of their life.  The starting age for these so called seniors? 50. Yup, in 3 and a bit years I am officially a senior in the eyes of the Thai government.  The jury is still out on whether this is a good thing or not. One thing I do know is that I could live a lot more cheaply in Thailand.  The more I think of it, the more it appeals.

 

Looking for the best high tea in Sydney?

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Sydney’s Best High Tea for: Quirkiness

The Tea Cosy – The Rocks

I have often heard it said, people should stick to their knitting. You can do both at the Tea Cosy. Practice your actual knitting, with bales of colourful wool, and knitting needles supplied to keep your hands busy. I preferred to keep my hands busy with the real reason I was there. What I would consider the “real knitting” of the Tea Cosy. The high tea. Would this prove to be the best high tea in Sydney?

The best high tea in Sydney moves to the tea cosy
Scones, and knitting?

Let me start by saying I may have just found the best scones in Sydney. Large. Served warm. A slight crunch when you take your first bite, but soft in the centre. It may be a little unfair comparing with more traditional high teas as today we only had the Grand Stand. Sandwiches, scones, tea, but no desserts. We had a big dinner in the evening to consider.

The best high tea in Sydney providing the best scones
oh my! Check these scones out!

The sandwiches were very good, and somewhat traditional. Small bites of curried egg, a tuna option, and a smoked salmon with cream cheese. Substantial enough to whet the appetite, but small enough to leave room the above mentioned, rather delicious, scones. Walking through the heritage listed building that houses the Tea Cosy, you pass a piano, lots of knitted tea cosies, and for some reason, a lot of Irish memorabilia. I never got to the bottom of that. Ordering at the counter you get a choice of 8 jams. We plumped for tradition. Selecting both a strawberry and a raspberry one. The raspberry was a stand out. There is an extensive range of teas, and the always available coffee. Creme brulee tea was one haven’t seen before. I plumped for the lemongrass and ginger tea.

Almost a full “high tea”

Back to those scones. If only so that I can close my eyes and remind myself how delightful they were. I must look odd, sat here in the library, typing whilst I lick my lips. Something I should probably stop unless I want to get thrown out. I have written before about clotted cream, and how I wish high teas in Australia provided it. That said, the cream served at the Tea Cosy was a step up from the whipped cream we usually get offered. Thick double cream, that created a great base layer before piling on lashings of that delectable jam.

Can you smell how good these are?

Whilst the Grand Stand at the Tea Cosy isn’t strictly a high tea, missing the desserts, I have to say that what we did have was right up there with the best Sydney has to offer. The best scones, hands down. I have had good scones in the past, memorably at Boronia House in Mosman, yet they have now been bettered. If the high tea experience is what you are looking for in Sydney, then make a point to head to the Tea Cosy in the Rocks.

p.s. the venue will be moving shortly, but only about 2 minutes away, still in the Rocks.

The Tea Cosy, shortly on the move

Sydney’s Best High Tea for: Setting and grandeur

Boronia House – Mosman

https://mosmancatering.com/high-tea-at-boronia-house/

If you are looking for the best high tea in Sydney, you have come to the right place.  Come for the grandeur of Boronia House, and stay for refreshments.  Built in 1885, Boronia House is one of the few remaining examples of this Victorian Filigree style of architecture.  Have a wander through the house, through the gardens, and think back to a simpler time as you sit down to your chosen high tea experience.

I have had both the Classic, and the Champagne high tea over the last few years that I have lived in the area.  Having visitors from overseas is always a great excuse to sample the excellent mini desserts created by pastry chef Remi Bataille.  And who can resist the smell of warm scones as they are brought out of the oven?

Boronia House scones
I can almost smell them

On a cool spring day, you can sit on the veranda.  And in summer, if the heat gets too much, take a table inside, and imagine you have been transported back to the late 19th century, as you enjoy a leisurely high tea experience.

  • Available: 11am to 3pm Monday to Friday, 10.30am to 3.30pm Saturday and Sunday
  • Options include Classic High Tea, Sparkling High Tea (with a glass of sparkling Australian white wine), Cocktail High Tea, Champagne High Tea (includes a glass of Moet & Chandon brut), Devonshire Tea (6 bites per person)

 

Sydney’s Best High Tea for:  Darling Harbour location

Hyatt Regency – Sydney CBD

https://www.hyatt.com/en-US/hotel/australia/hyatt-regency-sydney/sydrs/dining

If you are on holiday, chances are you will spend some time in, and around Darling Harbour. Over the years the area has constantly reinvented itself, trying to keep up a world that is ever evolving.  One place you should be sure to visit is the Zephyr rooftop bar at the Hyatt Regency. Drinks with a sweeping view taking in Darling Harbour, and all the way around to King Street Wharf.

High tea at the Hyatt Regency Sydney

And having made it here, make sure you make it to the Sailmaker restaurant for a fabulous high tea experience.  All your high tea favourites are here, including the traditional, but done very well, egg sandwich (it is surprising how easy it is to get this wrong).  Smoked salmon makes an appearance, as does the ubiquitous cucumber, partnering up with chicken in this instance. Desserts include creme of passion fruit, strawberry tarts (of course), and the polarising coffee eclairs.  Personally, I am a fan, but non coffee lovers may struggle to enjoy as much.

Champagne at the Sailmaker
What is high tea without champagne?

The scones were excellent, and as they should be, they were served warm, with lashings of cream and jam.  The only question is, in what order? Are you Devon, or are you Cornwall?

  • Available: Thursday – Sunday: 1:30pm to 3:30pm
  • Classic Afternoon Tea – $46pp includes T2 Tea or Vittoria Coffee
  • Champagne Afternoon Tea – $59pp includes a glass of Veuve Clicquot Champagne, T2 Tea or Vittoria Coffee.

 

Sydney’s Best High Tea for: Relaxing away from the hustle of Sydney CBD

Intercontinental Hotel – Double Bay

https://www.icsydneydoublebay.com/dine-and-drink/high-tea

Stylish Double Bay is the venue for this high tea.  And the Intercontinental hotel would give the Peninsular in Hong Kong a run for its money.  The Intercontinental has a storied history, and fans of INXS will know it under its previous guise of the Ritz-Carlton, as the place that MIchael Hutchence spent his last evening.  Over the years the hotel has welcomed guests such as the late Princess Diana, Madonna, and the Clintons.

Unique to the hotel, they also offer a “High Martini”, which I would have called “High MarTEAni”, for $69, which as the names suggests comes with a martini.  Three in fact, drawing on the bar’s collection of over 100 rare and vintage gins.

Chocolate high tea at Double Bay Sydney
Max Brenner chocolate high tea

Have little ones?  Don’t fear. The Intercontinental has you covered with a “Children’s High Tea”.

I have been for high tea twice at the Intercontinental, both times for a slightly different take on the traditional high tea.  Both were chocolate focussed, featuring delicious delights from Max Brenner, and Haigh’s, respectively.

Chocolate scones at the Haigh’s high tea

A perfect way to spend a Sunday afternoon is by sitting in the chairs overlooking the prestigious Double Bay village, with a glass of champagne in one hand, and chocolate scone in the other.

  • Available 12pm to 4pm daily.
  • $69 per person including a glass of champagne.
  • $59 per person standard high tea

 

Sydney’s Best High Tea for:  Novelty

Westin Hotel – Martin Place, Sydney CBD

http://www.westinsydney.com/afternoon-tea-sydney

A fan of Alice in Wonderland?  Ever wanted to have your very own Mad Hatter’s Tea Party? Look no further. Situated in the grand GPO, in central Sydney, you get to sit under glass, getting great views of the original clock tower.  Constructed in 1866, the GPO (General Post Office) underwent a large facelift following the privatisation of the building.  Amongst high-end office tenants such as Macquarie, and LinkedIN, the GPO also houses many restaurants and bars, and is worth a visit in its own right.  But today, we are here for the high tea, in the Westin Hotel.

Alice in Wonderland high tea at Westin in Sydney

And not just any high tea.  But the “Mad Hatter’s High Tea”, served with a glass of Ruinart champagne.  In my opinion, you would have to be as mad as a hatter to miss out on this fabulous experience.

Starting with the traditional high tea tower, the bottom rung included such delights as roast beef and asparagus roulade, a delightful mouthful of an Alaskan crab sandwich, and a very fresh little salad with bocconcini.  The dessert tier did not disappoint. With a chocolate mud cake in the shape of a top hat. A large, very tasty macaron doubling as a clock. And of course, the Queen of Hearts made an appearance.

A macaron that looks too good to eat
Yes, that is a mud cake

Knowing that the scones were coming last, so they stayed toasty warm, I had to make sure I saved some room.  And am I glad I did. Emanating heat, the scones were a delight. With plenty of clotted cream, and a choice of jams, this was a high tea to remember.

  • Available in the hotel’s The Bar, Lounge & Room from noon to 6:00pm
  • A Mad Tea Party $54.00 – A feast with friends including a cup of tea or coffee
  • Down The Rabbit Hole $64.00 – See how deep the rabbit hole really is with a ‘Drink Me!’ Cocktail
  • Ruinart’s Queen of Hearts $74.00 – Your Royal treat with a flute of Ruinart Champagne

 

Sydney’s Best Tea for:  Something totally different

Swissotel – Market Street, Sydney CBD

https://www.swissotel.com/hotels/sydney/dining/dining-offers/buffet-high-tea/

The buffet high tea is available year round, on Saturdays and Sundays, at the Crossroads Bar.  And by “buffet”, they really do mean buffet. I wasn’t sure what to expect, as never had I seen a high tea advertised as a buffet style before. But, having been, it is what it says. A total smorgasbord of goodness, and happiness. And as much as you can enjoy in the 1 and half hour time limit.  In my opinion, it does lose a little of the sophistication, and elegance, that I associate with a high tea experience.

Service was a little slow regarding the arrival drinks, which were a glass of bubbles.  And we waited what seemed a very long time for the tea and coffee. However, there was much to keep us occupied whilst we waited.

Yup, a bona fide buffet

If you have been to as many buffets as I have, you will know that you need to determine your strategy before heading up to the food.  Are you a “separate plates of food in a certain order” kind of person. Or a “find, and fill, the biggest plate you can, with everything” kind of person?  Fans of Alan Partridge will relate.

I am a bit of the former, and a lot of the latter.  I start with good intentions, thinking I will slowly make my way from savoury, to sweet.  But whilst there, filling my plate, something invariably catches my eye, and I end up with both sweet and savoury fighting for space on my plate.

At least you can get as many scones as you want

The high tea at the Swissotel did not disappoint.  All the old favourites are here. Egg sandwiches. Warm, soft scones.  And lots in between. If you want a less traditional high tea experience, the Swissotel is place for you.

Please note that the Swissotel has a “smart casual” dress code.

  • $69 per person which includes a glass of sparkling on arrival.
  • You can “trade up” to a glass of NV Laurent Perrier champagne for an additional $25.
  • Full range of T2 teas.  With coffee also available.

The “also rans” in the search for Sydney’s best high tea

Lobby Lounge – Shangri-La hotel

High tea at the Shangri-La

Taking advantage of the Queen’s birthday, and the subsequent long weekend in Sydney, I booked us into the high tea at the Shangri-La.  Would this be Sydney’s best high tea?  Scooping up a discount on GroupOn, the price for the sparkling high tea came in at $79 for two, a saving of $31.  This is the option we usually opt for, so it gives us a like for like comparison when recommending the best high tea in Sydney.  And who can go past a glass of sparkling wine?

Sparkling addition to the high tea

What was pleasing here was that tradition was the order of the day.  Several times lately, the high teas we have had have been offered as a buffet style.  Whilst good for choice, it is not good for the waistline, as with any good buffet (weddings, visits to Las Vegas!), you always over indulge.  Or is that just me?  OK, moving along.  I do prefer high tea to be a high tea, and come on the fancy looking tower.  I am sure there is a name for these things, so if you know it, let me know in the comments.

Traditional high tea
I love a bit of tradition

Whilst the scones here were delicious, a mix of plain, and raisin, and the cream was some of the best I have had in Sydney (how hard is clotted cream to get over here?), it was the middle layer that left me feeling disappointed.  A cheese toastie.  Did I mention I like tradition?  And the toastie was cold, which kinda felt, and tasted odd.  We also got a mini beef pie, with ketchup. Now, don’t get me wrong, I do love a good meat pie.  But served as part of a high tea?  Traditional?  And it was lukewarm, which further dampened my spirits.

Scones and real cream, the essence of high tea

With a high tea, I am usually so excited when it arrives, that I am out of the blocks like a greyhound, racing to finish everything in front of me.  By the time I get to the top layer, the sweet stuff, I am struggling.  And so this proved to be the case today.  I could have happily called “elegant sufficiency”, and walked away, but in the name of research, I pushed on.  Whilst desserts are not my forte, today’s selection was quite divine.  Even if I did have to be rolled out of the lobby of the Shangri-La.

As you would expect, there is a vast range of teas available. For the coffee drinkers amongst us, you can also complement your high tea, with a coffee.  Does that make it a high coffee?  Who knows.

Sweet treats to finish the high tea

Whilst a pleasant afternoon, and being so full I could burst, the Shangri-La fails to make it into my top 5 high teas in Sydney.  There were just a few things that could do with improvement, and the competition is very tough, as you can read below.  The search will continue in a few weeks when I will be trying out the high tea at Cicchetti Wine bar in the Queen Victoria Building.  Keep your eyes peeled for my review.

Come with me to Hobart, Tasmania

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A foodies paradise

I was sitting in the Landscape Restaurant, on the Hobart waterfront, thinking about what my abiding memories would be.  What I would take away from this weekend in Tasmania.  What would stick long in the memory.  As I turned the page on this brief chapter, what would stay with me, what layers would be added to the stratigraphy of my mind? 

Tasmania is famed for its food and drink.  Having just finished one of the best meals I have ever had, and I don’t say that lightly, the food and drink would be the obvious place to start.  The most apparent souvenir leaving Hobart with me would be the extra inches on my waist. Lucky that I paid for extra baggage.  Before this trip, I have to be honest, I did not fully appreciate just how good the Tasmanian wines are.  And that the whisky industry extends beyond the excellent Lark distillery.  I am leaving Hobart educated, satiated, and in proud possession of a stinking hangover.

Home for the weekend

First impressions

Flying in at lunchtime, by the time we had dropped the bags at our accommodation, the most perfect little cottage found on AirBnB, we headed to the Salamanca Markets.  Running each Saturday, through to 3pm, the markets are both a huge tourist attraction, and a great place to support local artisans.  Running the length of Salamanca Place, it would be easy to spend a couple of hours browsing the stalls, picking up some food, and maybe a cheeky bar of Tasmanian made fudge for dessert.   We seemed to have aquired a habit of collecting fudge from every place we visit.  I mean, when I say “collect”, it never usually makes it home with us.

I bought a book, which may not surprise you, from an English author now living in Hobart.  Jamie Maslin hitchhiked from Hobart to London.  800 hitchhiking rides.  18 thousand miles.  Three continents.  19 countries.  I relished the opportunity to talk to anybody crazy enough to do this.  Jamie had a stall at the markets, selling signed copies of his book, “The Long Hitch Home”, and I couldn’t resist.   I love travel, you may have heard, but I also love supporting authors, knowing the hard work that goes into writing a book.

Rest up a while

When you need to rest your legs, and have a well-earned drink, there are numerous bars in and around Salamanca Place.  A personal favourite was The Den.  With fire pits both in the bar, and on the terrace, it was a place you could, and we did, idle away a few hours sampling some delicious wines.

Fire pit at The Den
Chicken satays and a couple of bao buns

The following morning we made our way to the Pigeon Hole on Goulburn Street.  A small inner city cafe, with an unassuming little menu that exudes confidence, the breakfast we had won’t be forgotten in a hurry.   Check out the menu for yourself, it won’t take you long.  But the food they do, they do bloody well.  Baked eggs, with a slight drizzle of olive oil, served with a couple of chunks of bread, baked in-house to perfection, and a side of bacon which was honestly more akin to a gammon steak.  My mouth is watering just thinking about it.  Did I mention the coffee?  I usually do.  Excellent.

Random sights of Hobart

Landscape restaurant

Then there was Landscape Restaurant, which is an experience in itself.   I wasn’t sure of the provenance of the restaurant’s name, but it soon became clear when we were shown to our table.  The server asked us if she could tell us a little about both the restaurant, and also the numerous “landscape” pictures lining the wall.  Located in the old IXL jam factory, on Hobart’s waterfront, diners at Landscape are surrounded by the iconic art of John Glover.  There is an annual celebration of contemporary landscape paintings, with the award of the John Glover Prize.  Wander through the restaurant and you can view a selection of past winners.

Being a working harbour, Hobart has some excellent seafood.  Whilst you know my weakness for fish & chips, I thought I needed to up my seafood game for this trip.  A great evening in the Story Bar, located in Ocean Pier, allowed me the opportunity to sit around a real fire, jig my feet along with the live band, and sample oysters.  

Live music, Hobart style, at the Story Bar

What is it about oysters?

Now, not my favourite seafood, I still contend that the ones I had deep-fried, in Queenstown, New Zealand, were the best I have ever had.  But, with a drizzle of lemon, I again tried food that I would not naturally gravitate to.   Did I enjoy them?  I suppose so.  This is the thing with oysters, that I find anyway, is what is there to enjoy?  Does anybody truly enjoy them?  They just kind of slip down your throat.  Do you even taste them?  If you are a lover of oysters, and I am doing it wrong, please leave me a comment below.   I would love to hear from you.

Sunday morning dawned blue.  The cloudless sky shone a colour of blue that you only see in winter.   We had come prepared, with new wooly hats, and scarves.  We are in winter, a lot further south from Sydney, and Hobart had been experiencing some cold days.   Whilst we were there, we were lucky to avoid both rain, and the worst of the cold winter days.

MONA – a must visit

Walking off the excesses of the night before, the excellent Tasmanian Cabernet Sauvignon, and nightcap(s) of Lark single malt whisky, we strolled along Sandy Bay Rd, through historic Battery Point, and down Kelly Stairs into Salamanca Place.  Did we have time to quickly pop into the esteemed Jackman & McRoss bakery?  Alas, not this time.  We had a boat to catch.

Arriving at MONA (museum of old and new art) by the museum’s dedicated catamaran, some 30 minutes from Hobart, the first thing that strikes you is the vast amount of rust.   Yes, rust.  MONA may be more famous for a lot of things, not least for its collection of 151 life-size models of vaginas, but the colours are the first thing that hits you.   Yes, you did read that right.  Not about the colours.  The other thing.  There are 151 vaginas lining one very long wall. All true to scale, with varying degrees of hirsuteness, all conveniently displayed at eye level.   The museum calls them by their rather vulgar colloquial name, but I don’t think my readers would want to be reading c****s in this family friendly blog.  I used to think, “I’ve seen one, I’ve seen them all”.  But let me tell you, I looked at all 151 of them, in the name of research, and there were some very different specimens.  All very fine specimens, but very different.

However, I am not here to speak about vaginas.   Let me get back to where I was.  Rust.  Or specifically, the colour of rust.  Built into the rock face, there is nothing much to see of MONA as you approach it from the water.  All you can see is a vast amount of stairs to climb, and vast amounts of rust.  Once you climb those stairs, all 99 of them, you are then hit with green.  At the top, just where you enter the museum, there is a life-size tennis court that was put there, by demand of the owner.  Apparently, the reason was to allow the surrounding glass to reflect the green of the court back to where people were queuing to get in.  No, I can’t make any sense of it either.  Much like the rest of MONA.

Catamaran to MONA, MR – I

Sandstone hues

The theme of colour continues as you descend the circular staircase, down the four floors into the belly of the museum.  Everything is intentionally very industrial.  The rust gives way to a colour that I associate not only with Hobart, but with my home city of Sydney too.  Sandstone.  In the same way that many of the original buildings in Sydney are made from sandstone, the same can be said of Hobart.  And can definitely be said about MONA as it is hewn from the sandstone cliff face.  Bringing light to the structure, in only the way that sandstone can, it provides a contrast to the dark rust.  Add in a very striking, modern bar, and the effect is quite amazing.

The “Void” bar, 4 floors underground, at MONA
MONA Posh Pit
The Posh Pit

In the Posh Pit

Sat in the posh pit, the “VIP” section of the MONA catamaran, returning to Hobart harbour, I was left reflecting on another great visit to the Tasmanian capital.  Over quaint little canapes, and a glass of bubbles, amongst some exuberant youngsters, a smile crept over my face.  If a town had it all, or at least most of it, Hobart does.  Great scenery, and some good treks up Mount Wellington, always hulking in the background, casting its eye on the city.  Historic little cottages.  Fabulous food, that isn’t restricted to its excellent seafood.  And the drink.  Or drinks.  The range of Tasmanian wines is truly outstanding.   Pinots and Cabernets that rival the very best that this wonderful country offers.  And I will finish on the whisky.   Which is what I did each evening.  Whilst Lark may be the distillery that first shone a light on Tassie whiskys, the baton has been well and truly picked up by others.  Of the many available, I can personally vouch for Hellyers Road, McHenry, and of course, Lark.

Hobart – what are you waiting for?

Whether you are visiting interstate, or are on holiday from overseas, Hobart is a place that I would highly recommend.   Just a short hop from the hubs of Sydney, Melbourne, and Adelaide, yet a world away in many respects.  A city that maintains its folksy, small town feel, whilst offering you food and drink experiences you would normally associate with the big cities.

Hobart remains on my list of favourite destinations.   What are you waiting for?

Come with me to Koh Phangan, Thailand

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The flight from Bangkok (BKK) to Koh Samui (USM), only a short hop of just over an hour, was uneventful but for one thing.  Following the serving of a snack, I erroneously accepted the offer of a coffee.   Well, I say “coffee”.  As it was passed to me I immediately realised the gravity of my mistake, as the unmistakable aroma of instant coffee hit my nostrils.  Instant coffee, people!  What was I thinking?  That I was back in Business Class?  This was economy.  I wasn’t flying flat.  It was cattle class.  On Bangkok Airways.   What did I think?  That I was going to be served a cup of Toby’s Estate Single Origin?  Oh lord, what was I to do now? Drink it I suppose.  I even tried the first sip without holding my nose.  It was like a challenge on that turgid tv show, set in the jungle somewhere, where z list “celebrities” are asked to eat a kangaroo scrotum.  In fact, I’d posit my challenge was even worse.  I had a whole cup of instant coffee to contend with.  I doubt that I’ll ever be the same again.  Possibly the worst 15 minutes of my life.  (I could be exaggerating a little here, but this is how I felt in the moment.)

The last time I had visited the island of Koh Phangan was back on that round the world backpacking trip in 1999.  Travelling overland, from Bangkok, and south through Thailand, I visited Koh Samui, Koh Phangan and Koh Tao, three islands in the Gulf of Thailand, that get smaller in that order.  That original trip, almost 20 years earlier, had me docking at Thong Sala pier on the west coast of Koh Phangan.  This was pre the internet, pre mobile phones.   Can any of my younger readers even understand that.  That we lived in a world where we weren’t just a couple of clicks from everything.  In the days when you lived and died by the Lonely Planet (other guide books are available) that you carried everywhere.  Clambering off the boat, slightly seasick from the choppy crossing, with lots of other unwashed, and dirty looking backpackers, to be greeted by hordes of ute driving bungalow owners.  Jumping in one that at least looked trustworthy, although from my rather hazy memory, they all looked as untrustworthy as each other.  It is fair to say I was a very inexperienced traveller in those days.  Very wet behind the ears.  I had a brand new, too big, backpack from the local Eurohike store in Halifax, and a pocketful of travellers cheques.  Yeah, you heard that right.  I had actual travellers cheques.  My god, I AM old.

This was the year that I realised that in general, people of the world can be trusted.  All they wanted was the same as we all want.  Enough money to be able to put food on the table and provide for their loved ones.  This was the year I realised we are all the same, regardless of race, or background.  In all the years I have travelled, both then, and subsequently, I have to say that I have not suffered anything worse than a bit of scamming.  The usual taxi ride, or tuk tuk ride, that you work out cost you the price of a week’s accommodation.  Yes, there was that time in the jungle in Colombia, when I was marched off a bus at gun point, and interrogated by the side of the road in Spanish by around four heavily armed, fatigue clad army officers.  But apart from my bad Spanish being my only offence, after lots of frantic discussions between the soldiers, on the fact that I didn’t have an identity card, like everybody else on the bus, but solo un pasaporte, I was free to go.

Thai Beachside restaurant
Typical island beachside restaurant

No such excitement on that first trip, and I can’t remember too much, other than the accommodation, which was a very basic wood and bamboo bungalow.  And please understand me when I say basic.  The shower was a pipe outside, out of which dripped some cold water.  But, like all the best bungalows in Thailand, it was right on the beach.  Serenaded to sleep by the sound of crashing waves.  A bungalow “resort” that was powered by a generator, meaning the only light beyond 9pm was that coming out of my head torch.  Which usually meant that this became the enforced bedtime.  Well, I had to save the head torch batteries for an emergency.  Or in case I ever had to go mining. 

As the island was very undeveloped in those days, it was a lazy stay.  Moving between the bungalow, the beach, and the only restaurant, which had a very limited menu.  The only dish I can remember having was crab fried rice.  And I had a lot of it.  Perhaps that was the only dish.  And this was before I had discovered e-readers.  Meaning the only reading material I had were the left over books at the bungalows.  Would I have ever picked up “Memoirs of a Geisha” otherwise?  For the record, it is a good read.

Fast forward to 2018, and another very peaceful stay by the water.  Panviman Resort advertises itself as “paradise”.  And it was.  For the first week.  All I had to worry about was had I put enough sunscreen on, and was it 1pm yet?  I had quickly developed a pavlovian response to the clock ticking over to the magic hour.  Happy hour.  Cold beer, good book, and relax.  You don’t realise how quiet it is.  Quite how peaceful.  Until a family of 4 turn up and start splashing in the pool like a herd of elephants at feeding time.  Then another family.  And another.  I came to the dreaded realisation that we seemed to have crossed over with the school holidays of some country.  Our peaceful paradise had become infested with little brats intent on making as much noise as possible.  If I heard “Marco Polo” one more time I was in danger of throwing an alligator into the pool to make light of them.

Thankfully, I had the refuge of the spa, and my facial to look forward to.  To maintain my zen.  I would also mention the excellent, if somewhat painful Thai massage I got, but the memory of those disposable, fishnet like string undies I was given to wear, still brings me out in cold shivers.

This 2018 trip was a little different from that much earlier one.   Greeted at the airport by an air-conditioned minibus, with a direct transfer to the pier in Fisherman’s Wharf in Koh Samui.  Home for the next 8 nights was to be the Panviman resort, located on the north-east side of Koh Phangan, reached by direct speedboat from Koh Samui.  With around 8 other guests we were whisked across the Gulf of Thailand, a short 40 minute boat ride, to be greeted by the banging of a Thai drum, and the many smiling faces of the very obliging hotel staff.  Not for nothing is Thailand known as “the land of smiles”.

Over the course of the intervening 20 years I had upgraded from that tiny fan “cooled”, gecko, and ant infested bungalow, to an air conditioned hotel room, with spacious balcony, and a large tv on which to watch the World Cup.   I did get a taste of that original trip, one day hiring a scooter to tour the island.  Only 250 baht for the whole day, approx $10AUD, we visited the stretch of coastline I had previously stayed at.  As was to be expected, I recognised nothing.  The coastline remains the same, but development in the years since means that it is in effect a different place altogether.

We visited Secret Beach, Thong Sala, and had a beer at Freeway Bar, perhaps one of the most chilled bars you could visit.  Being the only visitors we had to break up an animated discussion amongst the staff (well, I assumed they were staff as they were all just lounging around) to check the bar was actually open, and request our first cold Singha of the day.  I don’t remember distinctly checking, but I am pretty sure it was 5 o’clock somewhere.

Negotiating the very steep hills on our return to Thong Nai Pan Noi beach, we called in at the Than Sadet waterfalls.  I say “waterfalls”, but having been to Iguazu Falls, what we saw this day was probably better described as a small stream.  

The beaches and coastline of Koh Phangan are just as you would picture them. Wide swathes of beach.   Water as warm as an evening bath that is just starting to lose its heat.  And green as far as the eye can see.  All development is low-rise, so as you look out, across the island, you see nothing spoiling the natural beauty.  The blue of both the sea and the sky, forming a green sandwich of the hills and trees in between.

People come to Thailand for many different reasons.  Many different reasons.  I come for the amazing natural beauty.  The smiles from the locals.  And the excellent food.  Our hotel was a short walk from the village of Thong Nai Pan Noi, where we spent each evening, trying out somewhere new for dinner.  Half of the places look as though they have never had a hygiene inspection.  And they probably haven’t.  But the many busy tables every night tell you something about the food they are pumping out.  All your favourite Thai dishes from home are here, at a fraction of the cost.  We had fabulous massamans.  Excellent penangs.  Delicious green curries.  And from a roadside vendor, serving up food from the side of his scooter, an amazing banana roti.  At the hotel we even got a serving of a very large fly, wok fried in the middle of our fried rice.  I am not sure he was supposed to be there, although the eating of insects is nothing new amongst the cuisine of South East Asia.

Buggy rice aside, Thailand is a place that I could keep returning to.  But then again, don’t I say that about most places I go?