Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Turkish car crash
Having had the unfortunate experience of a motorcyclist bouncing off my hire car bonnet in Turkey recently, I can’t say enough how lovely all the local people were to me; particularly the lady with the roadside stall who gave me a cushion to sit on in the shade and a glass of water; the guy from Almira Car Hire who had a replacement car for me within an hour, and most of all Polat and Rhiannon from the Grand Ucel Hotel in Ovacik – Polat for coming with me to the police station and and Rhiannon for tea and sympathy.
Thankfully I had full insurance (NEVER skimp on car hire insurance) but the whole process was pretty scary as you have to call out the traffic police by law in Turkey if you have an accident (even if no-one else is involved) otherwise your insurance is invalid and you mustn’t move or do anything until they come.
2 police cars and a large van turned up, the traffic was re-directed, all angles measured and photographed and me and the motorcyclist were both breathalysed (standard procedure). Lots of talking went on, none of which I understood, with lots of people milling about. The motorcyclist’s boss turned up, who spoke some English, and told me I’d have to go to court unless I paid him some money. ..
The police asked me to sign a handwritten statement, in Turkish, - I had no idea what it said, and no-one had actually spoken to me to take a statement. I asked if I could go to the hotel I’d been heading for to find someone to translate for me, which the head cop (who was very polite throughout) agreed to. Luckily for me, Polat, the hotel owner was there along with his English wife Rhiannon and he came with me to the police station.
I was asked if I wanted to ‘complain’ against the other person. Having no idea what this meant or what the procedure is in Turkey I said yes and hoped for the best. The police took a statement, asked me a lot of personal questions (I got the usual Turkish pitying look at the no husband, no children bit!) photocopied my driving licence and passport, which they gave back to me and let me go.
But I had no idea whether they were going to charge me or if I would be needed again, or what any of the procedures are, and a couple of nights later I got an intimidating and quite scary phone call at my hotel from one of the motorcylist’s friends who wanted me to meet him in a bar and hand over some money – which needless to say I didn’t, but I spent a wary few days wondering if I was going to subjected to a revenge attack or get another phone call.
If anyone can give me any information on how things work or if there’s anything I should have done or be doing, I would be very grateful!
Thankfully I had full insurance (NEVER skimp on car hire insurance) but the whole process was pretty scary as you have to call out the traffic police by law in Turkey if you have an accident (even if no-one else is involved) otherwise your insurance is invalid and you mustn’t move or do anything until they come.
2 police cars and a large van turned up, the traffic was re-directed, all angles measured and photographed and me and the motorcyclist were both breathalysed (standard procedure). Lots of talking went on, none of which I understood, with lots of people milling about. The motorcyclist’s boss turned up, who spoke some English, and told me I’d have to go to court unless I paid him some money. ..
The police asked me to sign a handwritten statement, in Turkish, - I had no idea what it said, and no-one had actually spoken to me to take a statement. I asked if I could go to the hotel I’d been heading for to find someone to translate for me, which the head cop (who was very polite throughout) agreed to. Luckily for me, Polat, the hotel owner was there along with his English wife Rhiannon and he came with me to the police station.
I was asked if I wanted to ‘complain’ against the other person. Having no idea what this meant or what the procedure is in Turkey I said yes and hoped for the best. The police took a statement, asked me a lot of personal questions (I got the usual Turkish pitying look at the no husband, no children bit!) photocopied my driving licence and passport, which they gave back to me and let me go.
But I had no idea whether they were going to charge me or if I would be needed again, or what any of the procedures are, and a couple of nights later I got an intimidating and quite scary phone call at my hotel from one of the motorcylist’s friends who wanted me to meet him in a bar and hand over some money – which needless to say I didn’t, but I spent a wary few days wondering if I was going to subjected to a revenge attack or get another phone call.
If anyone can give me any information on how things work or if there’s anything I should have done or be doing, I would be very grateful!
Monday, October 29, 2007
Getting around the Amalfi Coast
By bus:
Although the distances between Sorrento, Positano and Amalfi seem quite short in terms of kilometres, the narrow, cliff-hugging, hairpin-bend road makes it a long and rather tortuous trip – albeit with some of the most spectacular coastal scenery in the world.
SITA buses run approximately every 45 minutes or so, depending on the time of year (most hotels carry up to date timetables) from Sorrento and take around an hour to get to Positano, then the same bus carries on for another 45 minutes or so to Amalfi. From Amalfi a bus can be taken up to Ravello, a journey of approximately 25 minutes. Allow time for waiting for buses.
Tickets are excellent value at 5 euros for a 24 hour ticket which will get you all the way from Sorrento to Salerno including Positano, Amalfi, Maori and Ravello; they may be bought from tobacconists and some hotels and you punch your ticket in a machine on the bus to validate it (inspectors regularly board the bus to check). Tickets valid for 60 minutes cost 1.20 euros.
Be prepared however for the buses to be jam packed and you may have to stand all the way. If you can get to the central bus terminus in Sorrento (outside the station) then you have a better chance of getting a seat (seats on the right hand side offer the most spectacular views). At peak times, the bus may not stop to let any more people on, and there will be a long wait for the next one to come along.
Driving:
Not recommended! I overheard an American say “I’ve driven quite a lot in Italy but here [Sorrento] I’m out of my league. It was alright until we got to the outskirts of Naples and then they all seemed to turn into drunk drivers”.
There is a certain romance however to driving along the Amalfi Coast in an open top car and stopping to admire the scenery; in reality it is very difficult to stop as the roads are so narrow and winding and the driver will see very little as you have to really concentrate on the road. Surprisingly crashes are quite rare – cars can’t get up enough speed to do much serious damage – but there are plenty of clipped and scraped wings.
Parking is also an issue everywhere, particularly at weekends when the locals come out in force; most hotels will be able to arrange parking but it will come at a steep prices.
Boats:
Ferries and hydrofoils make regular trips between all of the towns including Capri and Ischia and can be a relaxing way to make the trip. There are frequent services to Capri, and Ischia but less frequent ones from Sorrento to Positano and Amalfi; check times and whether the boat is a ferry or hydrofoil as takes about 3 times longer. If you have the time, a ferry from Amalfi to Sorrento can be a relaxing way to soak up some sun and stunning coastal scenery.
Mopeds:
So stylish and so quintessentially Italian. Only for those with nerves of steel. Remember Italians are practically born on a moped – you can see whole families perched on one speeding around Naples – so have an inborn confidence. Make sure you have good insurance.
Crossing the road:
Do as the locals do (especially in Naples where crossing the road can be pretty daunting) and just stride out with confidence. The cars and millions of mopeds will drive around you (mostly!). I practised at first by shadowing a local crossing the road, then got up the confidence to step out by myself. It really works.
Naples to Sorrento:
From Naples airport you can get a bus into Naples Central Station, then cross Piazza Garibaldi (be on your guard here, especially against bagsnatchers) to the Circumvesuviana station to get a train to Sorrento, which takes around 45 minutes and costs 3.50 euros. Alternatively there is a coach service which runs directly from Naples Airport to outside Sorrento station and vice versa, approximately every 2 hours and costs 7 euros each way. You can buy the ticket on the coach.
Eating in Naples
Naples is the home of pizza and is so possessive and justly proud of its famous dish, the Ministry of Agriculture has issued special guidelines on how real pizza napoletana should be made (in a proper wood-fired oven for a start, anything else is heracy and simply not pizza).
And you have never tasted real pizza until you’ve been to Naples; I ate a different slice for lunch every day – one day it was a light, doughy crust topped with tiny fresh, sweet, cherry tomatoes and fresh basil, another day the topping was grilled aubergines; yet another was tomatoes, buffalo mozzarella and a thick sprinkling of fresh rocket.
What you won’t get is novelty British or American style toppings such as chicken tikka or chill or pineapple. Neapolitans would be horrified. And rightly so.
Pasta dishes are memorable too with plenty of fresh vegetables and seafood. Unlike the north of Italy who use mostly meat and cream in their cooking from the cows who graze in their lush pastureland, the poorer south makes use of its abundant vegetables, olive oil and bountiful seafood. Pasta types are endless and each one is cooked with a different sauce to suit the shape or texture. Some of my favourite sauces are Spaghetti alle vongole (clams)which is a popular local dish; alla Putanesca is tomatoes, capers, black olives and a touch of chilli (‘putanesca’ means prostitute in Italian and is apparently so called because it is so quick to make, the Neapolitan ladies of the night could knock it up between clients); con fagioli e cozze is an unusual but delicious combination of pasta, mussels and potatoes.
Sandwiches or ‘panino’ are simple and usually a combination of mozzarella, tomatoes and proscuttio (thin ham). One of the tastiest ones I had was from a small deli/grocery shop in Naples where an old lady split a large crusty roll in two, sliced up a tomato and laid it on the bread, added a slug of olive oil, some rock salt and fresh basil, then squeezed the two halves of bread together so the juices seeped into it, then opened it and added slices of fresh creamy mozzarella. The taste was phenomenal; although I managed to drip olive oil and tomato juice down my shirt shortly before I went into a swanky 5 star hotel. Not a good look.
Foreign cuisine is something of a rarity in Naples and limited to a couple of Japanese and South American restaurants.
Although the distances between Sorrento, Positano and Amalfi seem quite short in terms of kilometres, the narrow, cliff-hugging, hairpin-bend road makes it a long and rather tortuous trip – albeit with some of the most spectacular coastal scenery in the world.
SITA buses run approximately every 45 minutes or so, depending on the time of year (most hotels carry up to date timetables) from Sorrento and take around an hour to get to Positano, then the same bus carries on for another 45 minutes or so to Amalfi. From Amalfi a bus can be taken up to Ravello, a journey of approximately 25 minutes. Allow time for waiting for buses.
Tickets are excellent value at 5 euros for a 24 hour ticket which will get you all the way from Sorrento to Salerno including Positano, Amalfi, Maori and Ravello; they may be bought from tobacconists and some hotels and you punch your ticket in a machine on the bus to validate it (inspectors regularly board the bus to check). Tickets valid for 60 minutes cost 1.20 euros.
Be prepared however for the buses to be jam packed and you may have to stand all the way. If you can get to the central bus terminus in Sorrento (outside the station) then you have a better chance of getting a seat (seats on the right hand side offer the most spectacular views). At peak times, the bus may not stop to let any more people on, and there will be a long wait for the next one to come along.
Driving:
Not recommended! I overheard an American say “I’ve driven quite a lot in Italy but here [Sorrento] I’m out of my league. It was alright until we got to the outskirts of Naples and then they all seemed to turn into drunk drivers”.
There is a certain romance however to driving along the Amalfi Coast in an open top car and stopping to admire the scenery; in reality it is very difficult to stop as the roads are so narrow and winding and the driver will see very little as you have to really concentrate on the road. Surprisingly crashes are quite rare – cars can’t get up enough speed to do much serious damage – but there are plenty of clipped and scraped wings.
Parking is also an issue everywhere, particularly at weekends when the locals come out in force; most hotels will be able to arrange parking but it will come at a steep prices.
Boats:
Ferries and hydrofoils make regular trips between all of the towns including Capri and Ischia and can be a relaxing way to make the trip. There are frequent services to Capri, and Ischia but less frequent ones from Sorrento to Positano and Amalfi; check times and whether the boat is a ferry or hydrofoil as takes about 3 times longer. If you have the time, a ferry from Amalfi to Sorrento can be a relaxing way to soak up some sun and stunning coastal scenery.
Mopeds:
So stylish and so quintessentially Italian. Only for those with nerves of steel. Remember Italians are practically born on a moped – you can see whole families perched on one speeding around Naples – so have an inborn confidence. Make sure you have good insurance.
Crossing the road:
Do as the locals do (especially in Naples where crossing the road can be pretty daunting) and just stride out with confidence. The cars and millions of mopeds will drive around you (mostly!). I practised at first by shadowing a local crossing the road, then got up the confidence to step out by myself. It really works.
Naples to Sorrento:
From Naples airport you can get a bus into Naples Central Station, then cross Piazza Garibaldi (be on your guard here, especially against bagsnatchers) to the Circumvesuviana station to get a train to Sorrento, which takes around 45 minutes and costs 3.50 euros. Alternatively there is a coach service which runs directly from Naples Airport to outside Sorrento station and vice versa, approximately every 2 hours and costs 7 euros each way. You can buy the ticket on the coach.
Eating in Naples
Naples is the home of pizza and is so possessive and justly proud of its famous dish, the Ministry of Agriculture has issued special guidelines on how real pizza napoletana should be made (in a proper wood-fired oven for a start, anything else is heracy and simply not pizza).
And you have never tasted real pizza until you’ve been to Naples; I ate a different slice for lunch every day – one day it was a light, doughy crust topped with tiny fresh, sweet, cherry tomatoes and fresh basil, another day the topping was grilled aubergines; yet another was tomatoes, buffalo mozzarella and a thick sprinkling of fresh rocket.
What you won’t get is novelty British or American style toppings such as chicken tikka or chill or pineapple. Neapolitans would be horrified. And rightly so.
Pasta dishes are memorable too with plenty of fresh vegetables and seafood. Unlike the north of Italy who use mostly meat and cream in their cooking from the cows who graze in their lush pastureland, the poorer south makes use of its abundant vegetables, olive oil and bountiful seafood. Pasta types are endless and each one is cooked with a different sauce to suit the shape or texture. Some of my favourite sauces are Spaghetti alle vongole (clams)which is a popular local dish; alla Putanesca is tomatoes, capers, black olives and a touch of chilli (‘putanesca’ means prostitute in Italian and is apparently so called because it is so quick to make, the Neapolitan ladies of the night could knock it up between clients); con fagioli e cozze is an unusual but delicious combination of pasta, mussels and potatoes.
Sandwiches or ‘panino’ are simple and usually a combination of mozzarella, tomatoes and proscuttio (thin ham). One of the tastiest ones I had was from a small deli/grocery shop in Naples where an old lady split a large crusty roll in two, sliced up a tomato and laid it on the bread, added a slug of olive oil, some rock salt and fresh basil, then squeezed the two halves of bread together so the juices seeped into it, then opened it and added slices of fresh creamy mozzarella. The taste was phenomenal; although I managed to drip olive oil and tomato juice down my shirt shortly before I went into a swanky 5 star hotel. Not a good look.
Foreign cuisine is something of a rarity in Naples and limited to a couple of Japanese and South American restaurants.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Rip Off Airports
Birmingham Airport is now charging an outrageous drop-off parking fee of £1.00 for a 20 minutes stay – with an even more outrageous charge of £3.00 for every 15 minutes after that.
Because of the attempted Glasgow bombings, cars are no longer able to stop outside the Departures entrance but are diverted to the short-stay car park where they have no choice but to pay the fee. The charge is nothing short of racketeering and the speed with which the airport authorities managed to install the signs and fees shockingly indecent.
I spoke to one car owner picking up his grandson who had phoned him when the plane landed. He had to wait a long time for the baggage to come out and it cost poor old Granddad £7.00 in car parking fees for less than an hour. It’s not often I agree with Ken Livingstone, but his recent comments on greedy airport owners are spot on.
On a recent visit to Knock airport I was flabbergasted to be fleeced of a 10 Euro ‘Development’ charge before I was allowed to leave – this is a new one on me. I’ve paid departure tax before, but have never been asked to contribute towards building the airport. An airport which is there because they want to attract tourists in to spend money in the shops, bars, hotels and restaurants. I’m renovating a house at the moment, should I charge all my visitors a tenner to come in? I think not - because I would very quickly have no visitors….
And another thing – since the ban on liquids going through security, passengers wanting to buy water to hydrate themselves on flights (as we are constantly told to do) are at the mercy of the so-called duty free shops. I paid £1.20 for a 500 ml bottle of water and 75 ml bottles were a whopping £1.60. How long is this blatant profiteering going to be allowed to go on?
Because of the attempted Glasgow bombings, cars are no longer able to stop outside the Departures entrance but are diverted to the short-stay car park where they have no choice but to pay the fee. The charge is nothing short of racketeering and the speed with which the airport authorities managed to install the signs and fees shockingly indecent.
I spoke to one car owner picking up his grandson who had phoned him when the plane landed. He had to wait a long time for the baggage to come out and it cost poor old Granddad £7.00 in car parking fees for less than an hour. It’s not often I agree with Ken Livingstone, but his recent comments on greedy airport owners are spot on.
On a recent visit to Knock airport I was flabbergasted to be fleeced of a 10 Euro ‘Development’ charge before I was allowed to leave – this is a new one on me. I’ve paid departure tax before, but have never been asked to contribute towards building the airport. An airport which is there because they want to attract tourists in to spend money in the shops, bars, hotels and restaurants. I’m renovating a house at the moment, should I charge all my visitors a tenner to come in? I think not - because I would very quickly have no visitors….
And another thing – since the ban on liquids going through security, passengers wanting to buy water to hydrate themselves on flights (as we are constantly told to do) are at the mercy of the so-called duty free shops. I paid £1.20 for a 500 ml bottle of water and 75 ml bottles were a whopping £1.60. How long is this blatant profiteering going to be allowed to go on?
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
06/2007 Love it or loathe it?
Malta, like Simon Cowell and Manchester United, you either love or you loathe. My grandparents loved it, and I must have liked it enough to pay 3 consecutive visits in the early 1980s. (Or was it just cheap?)
But try as I might, I’m finding it hard to find something to love about this diminutive, dusty, densely populated island.
St Paul’s Bay is a mishmash of scruffy buildings jumbled around an impossible one-way system, it doesn’t have a decent beach to speak of and the eating options are unimaginative and basic. Hotels are much of a muchness, mostly unremarkable conventional package options. Bars are either bland British-style pubs offering chips and karaoke or full-on, anything-goes binge-drinking dens.
St Julian’s and Sliema are overdeveloped characterless concrete jungles with nervous breakdown inducing driving and almost mythical parking spaces. The bar and club heartland of Paceville becomes a seething mass of alcohol swilling, fun-seeking partygoers at night and becomes even more frenetic at weekends and in the summer when hoards of students from around the globe descend to claim their student card discounts on an already suspiciously cheap range of paint stripper shooters. Fun if you’re under 25 and need a good choice of kebab shops to keep you going.
All-inclusive – or is it?
Many hotels in Malta are jumping on the all-inclusive bandwagon but the term appears to be rather redundant in some properties; items I have seen excluded include breakfast yoghurts and fruit, ice cream at dinner, drinks with dinner, drinks after 10pm, pool towels, sunbeds, television remote controls, safes, fridges/mini bars, drinks other than local wine or beer, and (this is true!) dinner served after 8.30pm.
Don’t assume all-inclusive means what it says and check with the hotel just what is and isn’t included in the overall cost – it can impact heavily on the amount of spending money needed to enjoy the holiday.
In my opinion, all-inclusive hotels should be just that. Once you start mixing it up with bed and breakfast, half board and full board packages, it becomes impractical, unworkable, and in reality is little more than full board with cheap add-ons.
Holiday homes
Cheap flights to Malta are apparently putting some lower rated properties on the island out of business. Holidaymakers are spending the money they save flying with budget airlines on upgrading their accommodation to 4 and 5 star hotels.
Many 2 & 3 star hotel owners are now converting their properties to apartments to sell on as holiday homes. Malta’s property prices are still reasonable compared to some other Mediterranean destinations, the climate is temperate - sun is virtually guaranteed in summer - English is widely spoken, they drive on the left (most of the time) and it is a manageable 3 hour flight from the UK, with budget carriers leaving from London, Birmingham and Liverpool.
06/2007 Love it or loathe it?
Malta, like Simon Cowell and Manchester United, you either love or you loathe. My grandparents loved it, and I must have liked it enough to pay 3 consecutive visits in the early 1980s. (Or was it just cheap?)
But try as I might, I’m finding it hard to find something to love about this diminutive, dusty, densely populated island.
St Paul’s Bay is a mishmash of scruffy buildings jumbled around an impossible one-way system, it doesn’t have a decent beach to speak of and the eating options are unimaginative and basic. Hotels are much of a muchness, mostly unremarkable conventional package options. Bars are either bland British-style pubs offering chips and karaoke or full-on, anything-goes binge-drinking dens.
St Julian’s and Sliema are overdeveloped characterless concrete jungles with nervous breakdown inducing driving and almost mythical parking spaces. The bar and club heartland of Paceville becomes a seething mass of alcohol swilling, fun-seeking partygoers at night and becomes even more frenetic at weekends and in the summer when hoards of students from around the globe descend to claim their student card discounts on an already suspiciously cheap range of paint stripper shooters. Fun if you’re under 25 and need a good choice of kebab shops to keep you going.
All-inclusive – or is it?
Many hotels in Malta are jumping on the all-inclusive bandwagon but the term appears to be rather redundant in some properties; items I have seen excluded include breakfast yoghurts and fruit, ice cream at dinner, drinks with dinner, drinks after 10pm, pool towels, sunbeds, television remote controls, safes, fridges/mini bars, drinks other than local wine or beer, and (this is true!) dinner served after 8.30pm.
Don’t assume all-inclusive means what it says and check with the hotel just what is and isn’t included in the overall cost – it can impact heavily on the amount of spending money needed to enjoy the holiday.
In my opinion, all-inclusive hotels should be just that. Once you start mixing it up with bed and breakfast, half board and full board packages, it becomes impractical, unworkable, and in reality is little more than full board with cheap add-ons.
Holiday homes
Cheap flights to Malta are apparently putting some lower rated properties on the island out of business. Holidaymakers are spending the money they save flying with budget airlines on upgrading their accommodation to 4 and 5 star hotels.
Many 2 & 3 star hotel owners are now converting their properties to apartments to sell on as holiday homes. Malta’s property prices are still reasonable compared to some other Mediterranean destinations, the climate is temperate - sun is virtually guaranteed in summer - English is widely spoken, they drive on the left (most of the time) and it is a manageable 3 hour flight from the UK, with budget carriers leaving from London, Birmingham and Liverpool.
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
06/2007: Happy Mykonos
Mention you are going to the Greek Island of Mykonos and one reply always seems to be forthcoming…”Oh, yes the gay Island!”
Somewhere along the line, this island seems to have been stamped with this reputation and seemingly ignoring the fact that, for me, it is quite simply the best Greek Island of the lot, by a long way.
Having seen certain, better known Greek resorts almost destroyed by mass tourism over the last few years during my research visits (mentioning no names!), it was with some trepidation I returned to Mykonos after some 10 years.
After landing with an almighty thump, on the scarily small runway, on the ‘Sky Express’ from Crete, I hired a scooter and started to explore the island and find the hotels and apartments to be reviewed. What a relief to see that apart from a few modern, yet very classy, bars in the town centre, nothing seemed to have changed. Still the same old, labrynth of narrow, paved streets through the old town, still the beautiful and traditional section of bars and restaurants, right on the seafront in ‘Little Venice and even better…the famous Mykonos pelican still turning up all over the town with it’s ‘keeper’, sticking it’s huge beak into jewellery shops or eating scraps of fish in the tavernas.
Two warnings…. bear in mind that in August it’s rammed with Italians and you won’t be able to move anyway. Also take care on motorbikes…..the roads are a bit dangerous…as anywhere in Greece….my scooter managed to take a different route from me round a bend on one occasion!
Ok,ok…it’s a gay-friendly island but it’s really nothing you wouldn’t expect in a cosmopolitan destination that attracts the world’s beautiful and famous to it’s magnificent beaches, world-class,small hotels, it’s amazing sunsets and most suprising of all, still a genuine, almost magical Greek Island ambience.
Mention you are going to the Greek Island of Mykonos and one reply always seems to be forthcoming…”Oh, yes the gay Island!”
Somewhere along the line, this island seems to have been stamped with this reputation and seemingly ignoring the fact that, for me, it is quite simply the best Greek Island of the lot, by a long way.
Having seen certain, better known Greek resorts almost destroyed by mass tourism over the last few years during my research visits (mentioning no names!), it was with some trepidation I returned to Mykonos after some 10 years.
After landing with an almighty thump, on the scarily small runway, on the ‘Sky Express’ from Crete, I hired a scooter and started to explore the island and find the hotels and apartments to be reviewed. What a relief to see that apart from a few modern, yet very classy, bars in the town centre, nothing seemed to have changed. Still the same old, labrynth of narrow, paved streets through the old town, still the beautiful and traditional section of bars and restaurants, right on the seafront in ‘Little Venice and even better…the famous Mykonos pelican still turning up all over the town with it’s ‘keeper’, sticking it’s huge beak into jewellery shops or eating scraps of fish in the tavernas.
Two warnings…. bear in mind that in August it’s rammed with Italians and you won’t be able to move anyway. Also take care on motorbikes…..the roads are a bit dangerous…as anywhere in Greece….my scooter managed to take a different route from me round a bend on one occasion!
Ok,ok…it’s a gay-friendly island but it’s really nothing you wouldn’t expect in a cosmopolitan destination that attracts the world’s beautiful and famous to it’s magnificent beaches, world-class,small hotels, it’s amazing sunsets and most suprising of all, still a genuine, almost magical Greek Island ambience.
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
06/2007: Spectacular Croatia
Why has no-one told me before just how spectacular the scenery in Croatia is? Before my recent trip there I had a vague idea of the country as being all Eastern European concrete blocks and bleak, bland purpose built resorts.
So on the descent into Dubrovnik airport I was surprised to glimpse rolling pine wooded hillsides and tiny peaceful villages of mellow stone, red-roofed houses.
The drive from Dubrovnik to Split has to be one of the world’s best kept scenic routes and winds steeply (and scarily!) along a stunning coastline offering jawdropping views of the many picturesque islands which lay off the mainland – themselves worth a visit.
And the region of Istria in the north, home to popular tourist spots such as Pula, Opatija and Porec seriously rivals Tuscany with its beautiful green countryside, many vineyards (producing a very drinkable wine), Italian-influenced cuisine and fabulous clear sea. Venice is just a short boat ride away and Trieste is a couple hours by road.
Many savvy Europeans are snapping up properties here – less expensive than Italy, sea and ski within easy reach and, unlike Tuscany, not cluttered with communities of pretentious middle-class Brits.
For me the highlight was the ancient town of Rovinj, a charming huddle of Venetian houses on a tiny pensinsula, with narrow steep stone cobbled streets and a large open square fronting the harbour and lined with pretty cafes and restaurants.
Croatia is now definitely on my list for a return holiday visit – an honour I don’t accord to a lot of the resorts I see.
Why has no-one told me before just how spectacular the scenery in Croatia is? Before my recent trip there I had a vague idea of the country as being all Eastern European concrete blocks and bleak, bland purpose built resorts.
So on the descent into Dubrovnik airport I was surprised to glimpse rolling pine wooded hillsides and tiny peaceful villages of mellow stone, red-roofed houses.
The drive from Dubrovnik to Split has to be one of the world’s best kept scenic routes and winds steeply (and scarily!) along a stunning coastline offering jawdropping views of the many picturesque islands which lay off the mainland – themselves worth a visit.
And the region of Istria in the north, home to popular tourist spots such as Pula, Opatija and Porec seriously rivals Tuscany with its beautiful green countryside, many vineyards (producing a very drinkable wine), Italian-influenced cuisine and fabulous clear sea. Venice is just a short boat ride away and Trieste is a couple hours by road.
Many savvy Europeans are snapping up properties here – less expensive than Italy, sea and ski within easy reach and, unlike Tuscany, not cluttered with communities of pretentious middle-class Brits.
For me the highlight was the ancient town of Rovinj, a charming huddle of Venetian houses on a tiny pensinsula, with narrow steep stone cobbled streets and a large open square fronting the harbour and lined with pretty cafes and restaurants.
Croatia is now definitely on my list for a return holiday visit – an honour I don’t accord to a lot of the resorts I see.
06/2007: Cavtat (pronounced ‘Tsavtat')
A delightful, laid back pretty little village about 12 miles from Dubrovnik set around 2 bays backed by a pine-covered hillside. The small square and waterside promenade is lined with attractive restaurants and the old part of the village is a maze of steep narrow streets leading up to an old stone mausoleum crowning the hill. Accommodation is mainly in unexceptional 1970s style package hotels but for the more independent traveller or couples I can thoroughly recommend the small but charming family-owned boutique-style Villa Pattiera which is right on the square in the heart of the village. Lovely, well-appointed room, my own private terrace overlooking the restaurants below and a great view of the sunset over the bay. The nearby church bells can be a bit noisy but didn’t wake me during the night (and I’m a light sleeper).
A delightful, laid back pretty little village about 12 miles from Dubrovnik set around 2 bays backed by a pine-covered hillside. The small square and waterside promenade is lined with attractive restaurants and the old part of the village is a maze of steep narrow streets leading up to an old stone mausoleum crowning the hill. Accommodation is mainly in unexceptional 1970s style package hotels but for the more independent traveller or couples I can thoroughly recommend the small but charming family-owned boutique-style Villa Pattiera which is right on the square in the heart of the village. Lovely, well-appointed room, my own private terrace overlooking the restaurants below and a great view of the sunset over the bay. The nearby church bells can be a bit noisy but didn’t wake me during the night (and I’m a light sleeper).
Friday, May 25, 2007
06/2007 : Egyptian taxis
5 million taxi drivers all shout “lady where you go?” at me outside the airport and after some spirited negotiations and making sure the driver knows where the hotel is, I’m on my way. (I’ve been caught out before by taxi drivers who say they do know where to go, then after 5 minutes in the car say “where you go?” have no idea where it is you want to get to and expect you, the first time visitor, to give them directions.).
The driver of the taxi I get back to my hotel is talking on a phone in one hand, has a cigarette in the other and manages to keep the horn blowing at the same – I don’t want to contemplate what he’s using to do this – while driving at breakneck speed.
The traffic is horrendous even by Cairo standards and there are lots of police on the roads which are lined with soldiers in dazzling white dress uniforms. According to my driver, President Mubarak has just arrived along with Jacques Chirac and we sit in stationary traffic for an age. The drive from the airport to downtown takes well over an hour.
Egypt is a fascinating place, but it can be frustrating when it comes to organisation….
5 million taxi drivers all shout “lady where you go?” at me outside the airport and after some spirited negotiations and making sure the driver knows where the hotel is, I’m on my way. (I’ve been caught out before by taxi drivers who say they do know where to go, then after 5 minutes in the car say “where you go?” have no idea where it is you want to get to and expect you, the first time visitor, to give them directions.).
The driver of the taxi I get back to my hotel is talking on a phone in one hand, has a cigarette in the other and manages to keep the horn blowing at the same – I don’t want to contemplate what he’s using to do this – while driving at breakneck speed.
The traffic is horrendous even by Cairo standards and there are lots of police on the roads which are lined with soldiers in dazzling white dress uniforms. According to my driver, President Mubarak has just arrived along with Jacques Chirac and we sit in stationary traffic for an age. The drive from the airport to downtown takes well over an hour.
Egypt is a fascinating place, but it can be frustrating when it comes to organisation….
