Central Locking problem

Central Locking problem

From time to time we found that the habitation door won’t lock when you press the central locking key. We found out what the problem was and a quick and easy solution to fix it.

 

Dometic fridge latch repair

So, we went round this roundabout and the fridge door swung open and a load of salad bags fell out. Good job it wasn’t the greek yoghurt eh? Could have been right messy. We taped it up until we could find a quiet spot to investigate the problem

A letter to Travel

A letter to Travel

 

Dear Travel

When you were our holidays, we loved the precious time you gave us, where we had the space to retreat, rejuvenate and reconnect.  Into the mix you would offer us a brief glimpse into the culture of our temporary home. Whether that was food from the local hostelry, a street market that would tempt our culinary delights, or perhaps even a regional celebration that honoured a local custom. You encouraged us to dip our toes into a way of life that seemed far removed from our own stressful existence. Returning home we would often recall our experiences and studiously review our photo album, sighing with a longing that accompanies that inevitable back to reality.

Sometimes because of the way our lifestyle panned out, you were simply days out or short breaks away; we loved the escape you opened up for us, which quite simply used to get us away from life’s grind. A day-trip in the car or a city break gave us a destination to blow away our corporate created cobwebs. A rare treat to remove ourselves from the daily routines of professional and domestic chores which, in that moment, made us feel alive.  Whilst these may have been all too short, sometimes they were all we could squeeze in amongst the stress ball of life.

 

And then three years ago, you showed up in all your glory –  Travel, the full frontal experience. You gave us a chance to fill our lives with adventure, freedom and choice – riches beyond our imagination. And whilst we look back at our vacations and short breaks with fondness, they neither fulfilled us nor changed our lives. Their healing necessary although their longevity impermanent.

Yet the opportunity to enjoy every inch of your personality has been profound. You are the greatest teacher, the most flamboyant of moments and you provide the most deep-rooted memories that exceed every expectation. We feel privileged to have connected with you at such a deep level. To have shaken hands with your hospitality and ridden the rollercoaster of adventures that have taken us to the peak of joy and the depths of stress. Each one proving that we are alive and free.

You are not, it must be said Travel, always joyful. You are at times like a teenager throwing tantrums that capture us in your trail of destruction like a shoal of fish. Testing, pushing, stretching – although it is in these tempestuous moments that our characters are defined, refined and honed. Our coping mechanisms are so much more resilient because of your challenges. 

Travel, you have taken us on a journey that with each step makes our heart beat as fast as a pair of star-crossed lovers on their first date. Around every corner you gift us with fresh vistas that take our breath away. You present us with stunning sunrises that herald a new day and powerful sunsets that gather the joys of that day underneath their rose-coloured veil. 

For the last three years you have invited us on your journey of discovery revealing far more than just the cultural uniqueness of the countries we have visited. You have subtly mentored us to look within and understand more about our nomadic selves, uncovering the simplicity of life that exists beneath the stars. With your help, each day we remove ourselves from the corporate and commercial hub that imprisoned us and start to relish the truth that is entwined around life.  How little we need to thrive; how little our materialistic possessions define us and how much more freedom we have when we grab the reigns from life’s galloping horse. 

With these gifts that sit underneath our eternal Christmas Tree, how enriched our life has become. Each morning we awake with gratitude as the sun dawns and with eager anticipation we await the day’s lesson. It’s not always an easy class, as sometimes you throw a curve ball or two to stretch us. Although thanks to your solid foundation we cope so much more easily with those tests.  Our stress from the old days are a dim and distant memory as deep wounds heal themselves and a fresh perspective graces our minds. 

Home for us now can be found wherever our tyres stop for the night. That temporary abode is as homely as any brick wall and front door. We have embraced the open road and the wide open spaces that span the globe. And so when our wheels stop from their incessant roll, we breathe in the peace from the sanctuary that you have carved for us; beside the beach, in the bosom of the mountains or nestled beside a babbling brook.

Is this why when we return to the source of our birth ‘home’ that we feel so unsettled?

The girl who was a home-bird, who found the security of her house comforting and stabilising – now craves the open road. The itchy feet syndrome never feels so real as when we are drawn back to UK. Sometimes for three weeks, sometimes for three months, we have pitstops that are always purposeful and necessary although feel so strange. What a dichotomy. Returning to the nest yet not feeling at home.

Travel, this is your greatest puzzle. You have captured our hearts so gently and gracefully that we feel almost lost in the familiarity of our home country. And this is nothing to do with those we hold dear. They remain the same gorgeous and kind-hearted souls that we love unconditionally. No this is more about us and how we have been affected by your infectious path.  We have learnt to be mindful in every moment, although I must confess that our minds often wander to the day when we return to the road. 

We never really appreciated what it meant to have itchy feet as we lunged from one stressful situation to another in the corporate web of yesteryear – driven only by the next pay check or weekend retreat. Now blessed by a self-generated freedom, the generosity you have shown us makes us crave more. An addiction that feeds the soul, nourishes the mind and nurtures our human instincts for discovery, adventure and evolution.

With every passing day we find ourselves longing to return to your route-map and are thankful for the love and support we have to follow our dreams. Travel, you have enriched our lives and we look forward to our homecoming as our tyres hit the tarmac for yet another new adventure.

Travel, we thank you for the lessons, the discoveries and the personal realisations that have made us grow as human beings and, and with hope as our companion, may it be for many years to come. Draw us further into your web of intrigue and massage our life with experiences that create a page-turning book of intrigue, passion and discovery.

With love and gratitude..

 

Pin for later? 

Other posts you may be interested in…

Guest Blog – WorldTowning

Guest Blog – WorldTowning

We feel honoured to have been invited to do an interview with the lovely WorldTowning family, for their Inside a Traveler’s Walls series.

WorldTowning have an all-too familiar story of getting caught in the trap of the corporate hamster wheel, trying to fulfil their family life in a meaningful way. And so they set off around the world to give their children an expanded experience of life. As a result of their first-hand perspectives their intention is to build a community of like-minded travellers and dreamers who want to or have chosen to live their lives differently.

Their Inside a Traveler’s Walls series profiles people who made that leap and are willing to share how life looks and feels from within their own personal walls. So why not come see what we shared about our lives on the road.

Thanks guys for giving us a platform to share our passion and our travelling story. Click HERE to read our interview.

24 hrs in Girona, Catalonia

24 hrs in Girona, Catalonia

The first thing that struck us as we arrived in this Catalan city was how quiet it was. I suppose we have comparisons of London, Birmingham, Paris even to benchmark it against. Few cars lingered at the lights and few people were rushing from street to street. It was lunchtime and a Friday in mid-winter, so perhaps the Spanish siesta was dawning or may be this was just the city’s quiet heart-beat.

As our exploration began, only the deep resonance of the Cathedral bells that vibrates through your veins and the odd fusion of seagulls and parakeets seem to pierce the silence. And yet Girona could so easily be missed off the travellers’ agenda in their haste to head south to coastal retreats or in the mad dash north with their luggage crammed with Rioja and Chorizo. And it is true for us too, as it has taken us until our third Spanish road trip to drop in and say ‘hi’. So what is our view of this proudly Catalonian city after our brief sojourn ? Let’s see if we can give you a flavour of our experiences and then may be it will prompt you to go and make up your own minds.

As with most cities we’ve visited in the last two years of being on the road, there’s the old and new. And of course it is generally the ancient face we come to admire, as the outer fringes of industry and high rise where people create their homes and their business, has little to offer the curiosity seeker. Girona in that respect is no different. Nestled just below the foothills of the Pyrenees, Girona is blessed by stunning surroundings however your entry to the city is made. We came from the south west, Manresa to be precise, and our route through the snow-capped, densely forested mountains was a great set up for our city tour.

In the Spanish guide books there is little space dedicated to Girona. Barcelona and Seville certainly win the competition on that score. Although don’t be fooled by its lack of representation, as when we made our way from our inner-city camper park along the edge of the Devesa Park with its plethora of larch trees, I felt the anticipation grow. Despite the railway that dissects the old from the new, yet again we were struck by the lack of noise and buzz. A quiet station, few trains, only its metalic presence gave it away.

And then our first real sight of this unassuming city, carrying a historical weight on its shoulders, emerged as we approached the river.  With copious bridges that span a trickling River Onyar before the Pyrenean snow melt fills the riverbed, we felt immediately transported  into Girona’s soul. The colourful five or so storey buildings proudly hang their Catalan flags, propaganda and washing from their balconies like it’s a natural part of their decor, giving it an almost scruffy, yet lived in feel.  It reminded us a lot of the Pontevecchia in Florence just on a smaller and quieter scale.

Crossing the bridge felt symbolic as little did we realise that entry through the archway would take us into the heart of this somewhat somber city; the facades of the river-fronted buildings belying its inner sanctum. I’ve been trying to think of an adjective that best describes Girona’s historical old town and I think somber real does it for me. The streets, whilst full of Italian-style shops selling sumptuous clothes, shoes and leatherware are generally narrow and dark. I felt as though I wanted to sand blast the streets to bring it back to its former glory. Although in the darkness lies the truth of its history, so to remove it would be to strip away some of its legacy.

The dakness aside, in contrast the city’s cathedral and monuments are almost albino white, matching the distant Pyrenean mountains that provide the backdrop to the cityscape.  With a minimalist style to their exteriors, simplicity shrouds this city. It is not out to wow you in the same way Seville does. It invites you to enter its inner hub and engage with its historical tale that spans back some one thousand years.

The main thing I learned from my guide book was to head for the Passeig de la Muralla – the city walls – as this offers a terrific bird’s eye view. And indeed what a great piece of advice. So often visiting cities we feel like ants as we try to get a full experience of the majestic buildings, somehow missing part of the jigsaw by being on the ground. Yet from above we were able to see the full picture emerge and the city’s modern day identity trying to converge with its historical father-figure.

There are a number of entry points to this upper fortress passage. We started at the Cathedral end and worked our way south. En route to its maze-like entry, we passed the Banys Àrabs, the Romanesque Baths, which is very much intact and for €2 you can gain entry to this ancient masterpiece. A point to note, during the winter this is only open from 10-2 so be warned if a visit is on your list. Sadly it was shut for our city tour. Still, onwards we climbed up the seemingly never-ending stairs that lead to the walls, where towers positioned in battle readiness gave us a lofty view of the streets below.  The walls have been lovingly and sensitively restored allowing us to walk in the footsteps of warriors who were set on defending their realm. What a terrific way to experience this compact old town.

Back down at street level, we found the river again, where still few people graced the pavements. Yet a handful of hardy Catalonians brave the crisp winter’s grip that has taken Spain by surprise this year, sit outside for their early afternoon beer. Shops selling an enticing array of pastries more suited to a French boulangerie border the streets, reminding the visitor of its neighbour’s influence on its language and culture.  Having thought we were finally getting to grips with Spanish vocabulary, arriving in Catalonia is another challenge altogether for our foreign tongue. So many variants remind you that the locals here are set on creating individuality and independence even if they have been ruled against it.

The Jewish quarter was one of the largest communities in Catalonia back in 13th century, living harmonious alongside their Christian neighbours. Although after racial attacks, a massacre and persecution, the Jewish population either converted or were expelled from the country. Their community is called the Call, translated as the ghetto and museums today tell of their harrowing story whilst the street, with its intricate alleyways and cobbled lanes still hold their sombre secrets. It is a street with little light, which somehow seems befitting and symbolic of their story, with buildings leaning precariously close together as if in some sort of constructive solidarity.

It felt odd to me as we left the solemnity of the street’s ghostly past that the faint and gentle sound of a street musician should break the historical spell, as he played to his unappreciative audience on the steps of the Cathedral. Except for me who felt compelled to offer him rapturous applause for his musical talent.

The Cathedral like so many, regales in its architectural glory with steep steps climbing to its doorway, as if forcing you to make the commitment to reach its religious sanctuary.  Sitting strangely alongside its Jewish neighbours, this city paradoxically shows how two different factions of the community can coexist.

One final pièce de resistance, if my French isn’t completely out of place in a Spanish write up, is La Plaça de Independence, just on the other side of the river. A huge square with café-lined archways that set the scene for a small yet power symbol of the fight for independence back in the early 17th century. Whilst today dogs walk, cycles create wheel-track patterns in the sand and Instagramers look for the ultimate pose, there is a strange message carried through the ages about fighting for your right for liberation. A fight that still is very much alive, if not yet a battle won.

And so this university city with its throng of youngsters, musical festivals and weekly markets does have plenty to offer for a day’s visit. Modern one side and ancient the other, an eclectic mix that offers the visitor an day of intrigue, good quality walking and an insight to city holding onto its historical identity.

So how would we sum up Girona? Whilst it may not sparkle like its Spanish siblings, Girona has character and with its compact streets and bird’s-eye fortress promenade, it offers up a unique perspective of a yester-year that gently asks to be remembered. We are glad we came and we would definitely would recommend a visit here, although it did leave us sadly wanting. Whether it was the austere feel, the dark streets or the quietness, there was something missing for us. That said, come make up your own mind – it must be experienced even if only for its city walls.

Our Recommendations for a visit to Girona

  1. Come in spring or autumn as there will be more life to the place and it will certainly feel warmer.
  2. Start your visit in the morning when you will experience the smell of Girona from the plentiful Boulangeries.
  3. Do tie your visit into a Saturday as the market in Devesa Park is one of the largest I have ever seen with hundred of vegetable and clothes stalls. Markets are always a great way to experience the ‘real’ city and its locals. And Girona’s population is incredibly diverse.
  4. Do the City Wall walk first so that you can gain a real perspective of the place.
  5. Experience at least one of the many restaurants as Girona is famed for its classical Catalonian fare.
  6. Visit museums before 2pm as they tend to close for siesta.
  7. Avoid using the ATMs in town – every one I tried wanted to charge me commission. So come prepared with plenty of cash.
  8. Hotels are just on the outer edges of the old town and are within walking distance.
  9. If you come with your camper as we did, then there is a dedicated and secure car park right in the centre of the city within 10 minutes walk of the old town. For €12 you can stay for the night and it has full services as well.  41.983905 2.813767