Winter Sun at Costa Del Cleethorpes

I feel the need to write a post in celebration of my home town after enduring numerous snide remarks and comments about the place where I spent the first 18 years of my life since moving down to Richmond.  Nobody chooses where they are born or the background they are born into but people can choose what they want to do with their lives with the right guidance and upbringing.  I had an idyllic childhood thanks to my parents and family and I have many nice memories of my hometown as a child.  I may have chosen to no longer live there but I still enjoy coming home for a visit and today was a perfect Cleethorpes Sunday.

The cold, crisp sea air mixed with the clear blue skies and a nice blast of sunshine provided my favourite weather combination as I wrapped up in a hat, scarf and coat with my favourite fashion accessory of sunglasses to add to the mix.  We headed down to Cleethorpes seafront to take in the sights and enjoyed the rare tranquility that the winter brings to the coastline before the daytrippers and holidaymakers start to arrive in their droves around Easter time.

Stepping out of the car, I heard the familiar choo choo of the toy steam train which ambles along the seafront from the Leisure Centre to the theme park ferrying young and old alike in a nostalgic voyage of excitement, and I was transported back to childhood memories of a heady mix of noise and steam combined with the chill slap of the wind on your face as the train chugs along the tracks offering tranquil and panamoramic views out to the North Sea.

 

We then headed to the boating lake which was busy with other locals taking advantage of the first signs of spring and walking their dogs and children around the man made lake full of ducks and geese as well as the odd fish.  The lake glistened in the winter sun and the tranquil atmosphere was occasionally interrupted by the echoing squawks of its residents waddling around its banks in hope of a few scraps of bread or bird feed thrown at them by children walking by.

We cut across to the back of the boating lake alongside the tracks of the steam train before heading onto the sand dunes to take in the views of the ferries and transporter ships taking their cargo across the North Sea to Holland and Scandanavia.  Out in the distance you can still see the old, disused forts that have stood empty for so many years despite constant speculation that they are about to be redeveloped into a hotel or a rehab unit or to hold asylum seekers.

It was at this point that I thought that I should stop and snap a few pictures of my outfit, much to my Father's embarrassment who informed me that on a scale of 1-10 of being self obsessed I currently sit at 8.99 (although refreshingly I am apparently marginally behind my brother!)

I am wearing:
Jeggings - Abercrombie and Fitch,
Boots - Ash
Coat - McQ by Alexander McQueen
Jumper and T-shirt - both H&M
Bag - Mulberry
Hat and Scarf - Anna's Boutique on Richmond Hill
Sunglasses - Miu Miu

Of course I couldn't resist getting in a cheeky little pose just to embarrass my Dad further infront of all the dog walkers!

I then stumbled across a piece of drift wood and just had to get in a couple of photos with the husband, by which point my Dad had walked away in embarrassment as my Mum took the photos....

This one was taken by Mum by mistake but looked so hilariously posed I couldn't resist fitting it in....

Finally we emerged onto the promenade, where I had to get in a shot of the beach, with the tide out, just to show you that Cleethorpes has one of the finest sand spaces in England...

 

I feel incredibly lucky to have been bought up in one of England's last quintessential seaside towns.  It may not have the glitz and the glam of London, the contacts of a Middle Class upbringing in Richmond or the cultured opportunities for music and the arts like Liverpool but it does have my family, my friends and my memories...as well as a pretty nice place for a Sunday stroll.

J'adore Paris

I thought I'd share this with you from my old blog. A little trip to Paris I had last Easter, it was so good! I cannot wait to go back in August!

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A light hearted reflection of our day as high society ladies.

Last Saturday was all about the catchphrases for my friend Joanne and I.  Catchphrase number 1 ‘dress to impress’, catchphrase number 2 ‘it’s all about the confiance’.

Following our two mantras we dressed ourselves up in our Sunday finest - for myself, a little black dress, leopard print Louboutin’s and matching scarf and a Whistles hat - and off we went to enjoy our journée parfaite à Paris!

Outside La Duree

We started our ‘journée de rêve’ in La Durée with a café crème and a croissant for me, a hot chocolate and some macaroons for my friend.  We left in high spirits, but somewhat disappointed, the waitress was not up to the standards we’d have expected for such a high end establishment and we decided that this famous Parisian eaterie has become a victim of its own success as hordes of Japanese tourists flooded the tiny inside space, taking photos of anything and everything they could.

With our stomachs lined we started the walk along the shops in the area of Rue Saint Honoré, our first stop naturally being a French stalwart fashion brand, Christian Dior.  As we kept saying to ourselves ‘it’s all about the confidence’ à la Samantha Brick (the running joke of the day), we strutted inside and were immediately pounced upon by a demure shop assistant encouraging us to try on the spoils.  Never one to pass up on an opportunity, we were shown to the most luxurious fitting room we had ever seen - in fact it was not one room but two complete with numerous mirrors, flattering lighting and an expensive looking couch (which we had much fun messing about on with our camera when the shop assistant’s back was turned).  We’d told her I was looking for an outfit for a wedding and she came back with some gorgeous heels and a silk dress which I tried on and fell in love with.  At an eye watering 4000 euros for the two items we told her that we wanted to explore more of the Parisian shops before making a decision and hastily and carefully put the clothes back before we had a chance to spoil them.

The stunning silk Dior dress and tan Dior platforms

Moving on, we headed to Longchamp to purchase a handbag and had a little mooch in Miu Miu, Chanel and Maje before heading to our number one, highly anticipated destination…Christian Louboutin.  Unlike my previous visit where I pretty much waltzed in, had the shop to myself and tried on half the shoes before purchasing, this time we had to queue for an annoyingly long twenty minutes before we were allowed to enter.  Nervous with excitement my friend (with a little persuasion from myself) decided it was time to ‘pop her cherry’ and chose the most stunning pair of Nude Pigalle’s as her first ever Louboutin purchase.  Off we trotted, her elated with her purchase, me a little jealous that I wasn’t able to buy a pair for myself (but it always gives me a good excuse for a return visit).

The tastiest Champagne and apple cocktail at the Ritz

Having spent a good few hours walking in heels by this time (and having ruined a pair of Louboutin’s by scraping all the red off the sole walking around Paris) we sneakily stopped in a shop doorway and changed into flats to start our descent to Place Vendome with one thing on our mind…champagne to celebrate the Louboutin purchase.  Just before we stepped into the famous square we quickly changed back into our heels and strutted across to the Ritz, with such pizazz that even Victoria Beckham would have been envious of us, and were welcomed into the Ritz accordingly. 

We enjoyed the jealous looks of our waitress as my friend examined her Louboutin shoes just as much as we enjoyed our Champagne cocktail and nibbles and spent the next hour pondering how we might afford to live such a lifestyle day in day out.  Unfortunately neither my friend nor I were blessed with the goddess like looks of Samantha Brick and despite secretly hoping we’d receive a bottle of Dom Perignon sent to the table by some handsome George Clooney lookalike we had to accept that our time living the high life was drawing to an end. We settled the bill ourselves and left, looking back longingly over our shoulders at the day we had left behind.

My talented friend Jo, translator and writer.

Enjoying my time as a high society lady!

Back to reality and we hopped on the metro over to the Rush bar where we met the Liverpool French Branch supporters club, ordered a Corona and a JD and coke and cheered on our team in the good old northern way we are accustomed to.  Just as much fun, apart from another draw from the mediocre Liverpool side that seems to be ruining many an afternoon for Liverpool fans worldwide at the moment.

We finished the day with a pizza and, feeling exhausted, headed back to my friend’s apartment to watch a film.  Unfortunately, upon arrival I realised that I had left my iPhone in the Pizza restaurant but the nice and honest French waiter had put it behind the bar for me so we trekked back across the city to pick it up.  It may have been 11.00 at night but we finally decided we had had our Samantha Brick moment (obviously we were so good looking the waiter decided he could not possibly steal the phone from us)….well maybe not!

The day may be over but the memories will live with us until the next time we decide to live the high life! Vive la vie!

Farewell to my passport...the last remnant of my former life.

It was nearly eight years ago when I received my first adult passport and little did I know how it would accompany me on the most weird and wonderful experiences as I transitioned from a child into a fully fledged, travel loving woman.

I tentatively clutched it as I approached the passport desk at Heathrow Airport, a couple of months before my 19th birthday and carefully waited for the checkout lady to swipe it.  24 hours later on the other side, I beamed with pride as I was granted entry into Australia's homeland and received my first stamp.  The gratitude of being honoured with my first 'travel badge' was akin to a cub scout achieving his award to be sewn on his arm in recognition of passing one of the skills they can be awarded for.

I showed my passport with pride, I loved customs staff flicking through it as I hopped across Europe in subsequent years visiting Italy, Holland and Ireland as well as numerous trips to France and Spain during my time spent living and working abroad.  Furthermore, I loved the picture on my passport and never minded showing the staff my ID, proud that I had managed to take a good passport photo.  Alas, those days are gone as I will now be presenting them a face eight years older, although not necessarily wiser.

Every stamp I gained felt like a memory etched onto the page for eternity; South Africa, USA, Japan, USA, some more USA, Qatar, Fiji, USA again.  Every stamp gained was like a big tick on my memorised list of places I want to visit before I die, solid proof of my achievements in travelling far and wide.

Here are some of my favourite pictures from my adventures:

Enjoying a vino in Fiji

At the John Lennon tribute in Central Park

Visiting Ramsey Street

Getting in touch with the
South African wildlife

Enjoying the Qatari skyline

Enjoying a pint of Dom Perignon
in Vegas

Dressed as a Geisha in Kyoto

Taking in the sun at Laguna Beach,
Orange County

Posing in Prada on Rodeo Drive

At the top of Lombard Street
in San Francisco

I think there is only one thing that can cure my passport blues...and that is to book some more fabulous trips for my new one!!!