Sliema, Malta

We had booked well in advance for our trip to Malta as both Clare and I had already signed up to the Vodafone Malta Marathon and Half Marathon.  Thankfully, we also had babysitters on hand to cheers us in in the guise of my Ma n PA (who had only just arrived back on terra firma from their last jaunt).  Whilst on the way to the airport, my Pa was telling us that he had been sat up until 4am trying to secure us another apartment as the one we had booked had cancelled on him a mere 12 hours before our flight.  Thankfully, all was now sorted and we had a new place to check into on arrival in Sliema.

Our transfer mini bus was waiting for us at the airport as planned, but as soon as we gained internet connection a frightful email arrived.  Our new apartment had cancelled our accommodation, we were homeless in a foreign country.  As I had been only a couple of years earlier, I knew of a superb donut shop that we could sit down, re-assess and find a new, new base.

After searching high and low we decided to romp across town and edge our bets at a small student hotel a short walk from the finish line of the marathon.  The staff here could not be faulted, they listened to our plight and offered us everything they had (and even at a discounted rate).  The rooms were nothing like what we had initially booked, but we were glad of a bed to rest our weary legs.

This purely was a whistle stop visit to the tiny island and we had convinced (although much convincing is never necessary) our great friends the Beewells to partake in a little jaunt as well.

On Saturday we took a trip to the stunning city of Valletta via ferry, sampled rabbit pie and local spirits, had a good old mooch and then headed back to Sliema for a hearty carb loaded evening meal before early to bed ready to cover most of the island in the morning on legs.

To find out how we did in the run, you will have to read the post dedicated to that one, but it was a bloody hot day again.

We headed back home with medals round our necks, one less toenail than we had arrived with and my ma had sustained bruising after diving off a high kerb under a bus!

With only three days away, there was enough happening to make this weekend break one to remember.

Disneyland Paris

This story starts as all good stories do,
Once upon a time....

The time was just past daft o'clock and we were sat waiting for our filter bus to turn up.  This short (in comparison) journey would take us to our magical carriage, cross the water to a foreign land and then cover a little more distance till we arrived in the land were dreams really do come true.

Unfortunately, our magical carriage was a little further from the luxury we had originally anticipated.  Just a few miles short of Cannock, only an hour into our journey there was a loud pop.  One of the back wheels had burst and the only place suitable for the sleepy travelers on board was a greasy spoon road side truck stop.  The "cafe" inside was dingy, grubby and the free magazines to keep us entertained were "Truckers Weekly" and "Tractor Weekly".  With a baby girl who was 1 year and 364 days old, the Coach seemed much more entertaining.

3 hours later, the tire was changed and we were back on our journey, thankfully, there had been a few extra collections done and that meant less stops for us on route to the White Cliffs.

Just to top things off, the air conditioning seemed to be struggling on the old coach and instead of pumping out fresh air and instead been pumping out hot, musty air.  We were all ready to jump off and onto the ferry.

Our final stretch into the Magical Kingdom on the French side of the border was thankfully not as eventful. Our little daughter, who was absolutely amazing on this arduous 17 hour journey was ready for bed when we arrived.  She had a big day ahead of her.

We were staying at the Cheyenne complex which is themed around the Wild West.  Our room was adorned with Toy Story pictures, banners and lamps all picked from Woody's Round Up.  The streets were dusty, the buildings rustic and the setting truly authentic.  My fear had been that the Paris version of the American Dream would be a ginger cousin, not wanted and without soul.  (Only joking, some ginger have been known to have souls)  I was very wrong, this truly was very, very impressive.

As we walked toward breakfast, Isabella, who was now celebrating her 2nd birthday, was a little overwhelmed by everything going on, but mummy and daddy had promised that we would see the Mouse today.  When we arrived at the buffet breakfeast, Pluto was waiting for us.  Initially we thought the huge dog with big nose and massive head would be a little too much for our girl, but she ran over with open arms and hugged that puppy like it was her own.

This trend continued for the rest of the day.  As we entered the park with it's magical Princess Castle, we hugged Donald, Goofy, Gepeto, we rode in tea cups and boats, we flew on magic carpets and spun around in crazy cars.  We rode horses on a carousel, visited a small, small world multiple times and watched parades with all our favourite characters.  Nearing the end of the day, we opted to join a reasonably large queue to go and see the main Mouse himself.  I think the build up throughout the day may have been a little too much for this newly turned two year old as Mickey sang Happy Birthday, Isabella just stood staring at him in amazement.  He was here and singing a song to her that she had only just learnt the words to.  This was a perfect end to a perfect day, but how else to close of a big birthday celebration than with the biggest fireworks display your eyes have ever seen.  Again, I hate to compare to the American version, but the firework show in Paris was phenomenal.  A collection of a visual spectacular and an audio delight, the fireworks danced to the story being projected onto the huge castle in the middle of the park.  What a way to spend a birthday!

Our second day, we decided to head into the second park, the smaller of the two but still a must see.  Here we started in Toy Story land, had conversations with Stitch, watched stormtroopers and Jedi fight in the streets, take in movie magic and enjoy another fantastic parade.

Like all good stories though, they have to come to an end at some point, and this little girls magical dream was coming to a close.  All that stood before us was another 14 hour coach trip (this time without punctures), at least this time they had sorted the air conditioning, just a shame the volume on the TV was turned up to 11!  Thankfully, our angel had two amazing, full days and the gentle motion of the coach, ferry, coach again and filter bus were just what she needed.  13 hours and 57 minutes later she woke up with a smile.

Post Edit, for those that think a two year old will not remember an experience like this, Isabella still tells us of things she did at the park, how she spent her 2nd birthday with the Mouse and his friends, she talks of the rides and fun she had, and also the fireworks that were specially for her birthday.  Even if she only remembers this for 12 months, it was worth every second to see her smile and stare in awe at the magic and wonder that surrounded her.

Vilnius Lithuania

Continuing our search for the most Christmassy Christmas market, the internet led us to Vilnius.  The capital of Lithuania and one of the top 10 ranked Markets for the festive period, this seemed like the perfect destination for a Winter long weekend.

We had opted to stay in the Old Town as this was another internet recommendation, being close to the markets and local bars, restaurants and surroundings.  

Vilnius is simply stunning, the Old Town is vibrant enough to attract the foreign tourist but the general feel of the city is authentic Lithuanian.  We have been to a few capitals now and you see the countries that have adapted to the foreign tourist with American Diners on every street corner, streets adorned with Argentina Grill Houses and the likes, Vilnius had dumplings, Zeppelins and more dumplings.  

Our first full day it had snowed in the morning, and when I say snow I mean real snow.  It was thick, white and fluffy.  It also had not stopped the daily routine and roads had been cleared in under an hour.  This was Isabella's first experience of snow and the first flake went straight into her eye.  For the rest of the holiday we were told, with her newly forming vocabulary, that "Snow went in my eye".

We headed towards the markets to see what delight was on offer.  The square where the main market is situated is stunning, clock towers and regal buildings surround a 25ft Christmas tree, which in turn is surrounded by log cabins full of the usual market stuff.  Wooden Christmas trinklements, food to warm the cockles and mulled wine to delight the senses, toffee, nuts, chocolate (hot and cold), donuts and so much more.

The lights from atop the main Christmas tree reach down to each hut, each little hut is covered with fairy lights and the Christmas music plays whilst you take in the delights and smells.  This was, although very small in comparison to other markets we have seen, definitely the most Christmassy.

The local specialty dish, aside from dumplings, was a delicacy called a Zeppelin.  We had seen a few locals eating them at every meal, so whilst in Lithuania.....
They are basically grated potato wrapped in lard, covered in a gluttonous mass and then smeared with butter and meat.  They looks and smell disgusting, but they taste great for the first two minutes, then there is no way any other nationality can eat any more.  They are pure stodge on a plate.  Whenever I saw a bowl of 7-10 Zeppelins arrive out of the kitchen my stomach would inflate.  The Lithuanians demolished these like they were nothing but air.

We walked as much as possible in Vilnius trying to capture all the amazing culture, architecture and atmosphere that the capital had to offer.  There were city views on top of panoramic hills, stunning parks with streams of ice and snow, grand squares and huge streets but it was definitely a city you could cover in a day, without trying too hard.

The Baltic regions have not failed to delivery something new to our continued trek around the world and this is somewhere I can heartily recommend.  The Lithuanians are warmer to outsides than our Latvian friends, the food is excellent yet basic, the beer is always tasty and the Christmas Markets are amazing.

It was always great to finish every day with a trip to the market to soak up the day with another blast of mulled wine, Christmas songs, festivities and everything else on offer under the big Christmas Tree

Es Cana - Ibiza

Hotel: Miami Apartments, Es Cana

When I told friends and colleagues that we were off to Ibiza for a week, the first question on everyone's lips was "you going clubbin', lads holiday?".  The closest we got to a club was the mini disco at our hotel and my holiday group consisted of my wife, Clare, Baby I, my Mother-in-Law Sue Sue and her partner Granddad Kev, and believe me, this was the party I wanted.

Our flight out to Ibiza could have been split right down the middle, exited groups of holiday goers ready to live it large on one side of the Island in San Antonio and the other half, what I came to class as "Lazy Town" inhabitants whose final destination was Es Cana and Santa Eulalia.

Obviously being the end of the season, the lazy town of Es Cana was quiet, subdued and relaxing.  Well, as relaxing as it can be with a 20 month old toddler who knows exactly what she wants, all of the time!

When we arrived at our hotel, we were told that they had over booked and we would need to share a room (as a family) for one night, but as compensation, they would throw in the buffet breakfast every morning for the rest of the week, we happily accepted.  Although we were in the self catering apartment side of the hotel complex complete with cooking facilities and a fridge, the cost of breakfast every morning would soon mount up.  Thankfully, this was now catered for by the Miami.  In the morning we would move to our new abode, poolside and ground floor, but for our first night it was sea views and shared rooms.

The hotel itself was geared towards children, aside from the generic swimming pool there was a small pool complete with pirate ship water feature full of slides, fountains, splashes and cannons.  In the height of summer I could see us sitting here for most of the day whilst Baby I played all day long.  In early October, the water temperature hardly rose above slightly freezing and after 30 minutes of pure enjoyment, lips began to turn blue, shivering set in and it was time to wrap up and snuggle in.  That was me by the way, Baby I could have carried on regardless if we had let her!  After the first apprehensive attempt of the slides, there was no stopping her.  Pushing aside older kids, running through the pool back to the steps and whooshing down again.  Sometimes head first, sometimes backwards there was no fear in this 20 month old crazy girl.  It was only on the latter few days of the holiday that we discovered the age specifications for the pirate ship was intended for children 4 years and above.

On our first evening, we thought we would take in the delight of the kids mini disco.  Based on the success of the Rory Show at Wild Duck in Norwich, we thought that it could not fail.  How wrong we were!  Within minutes of arriving, one of the entertainment team had told off most of the kids for having too much fun, this set a precedence for the rest of the show,  no fun was to be had!

After a unanimous decision, and Granddad Kev uttering the word "Crap" and the quietest moment of the show, we made our own entertainment for the rest of the week.

Thankfully, Granddad had brought special tokens that make the coin operated rocking machines work.  Daddy still does not know where to get these from and will deny all knowledge for years to come.  This is were our nightly destination of the "Car Bar" began.  Every night we would have a little drink whilst Baby I rocked back and forth on her Volkswagen Bug spending magic tokens.  We could hear the music from the mini disco in the background, and every night we confirmed our thoughts, "Crap".


With each day being cram packed full of excitement, new adventures, water parks and pool swims, Baby I was absolutely exhausted every night.  After a few days we thought of venturing to Mini Disco once more but Baby I had a better solution, she requested a little snooze around 5pm and only woke the morning after at 7am.  This is something that has never happened before, but this little girl was beyond knackered.

Just on the outskirts of Es Cana, or Lazy Town, is the Hippy Market.  Held once a week (Wednesday), crowds swarm from far reaches of Ibiza to experience the tranquility and chilled out nature whilst also taking in artisan and unique products mostly handcrafted by the vendors.  I was far from chilled out and relaxed from the moment we entered.  The temperature of the already sunny morning seemed to increase ten fold at the gate, the amount of shoppers, onlookers and perusing patrons ambling around just increased the heat and with no sense of direction my tranquility took it's toll, I had to find a way out.  I was not alone in my decision and we all headed back to the gate to escape for a nice cooling drink.

Early in the week, I had been out for a morning run, and on the way back to our hotel I was walking towards a gentleman and child.  I knew I had met this man before but could not put my finger on it. In my head, I knew he had an accent and as he walked past, his strong Scottish timbre reiterated my initial thoughts.  Later we saw him and his family around the pool and I involved Clare in my investigation as she is far better at remembering faces than myself.  As I walked passed his good lady, I knew that we had met.  I stopped, brought up the confidence and asked, "where do I know you from?", she replied, " I thought the same, you weren't on a cruise ship on the Nile a couple of year ago were you?".  It is a small world, and as travelers continue to see every country they can, surely paths will cross again and again.

We closed our week of relaxation, great food and great company with a little Glass Bottom Boat trip.  Following the coastline, with views of the Mediterranean sea bed, fish swimming this way and that, sunken ships and a multitude of seaweed.  Baby I followed her usual boat routine by falling asleep after 5 minutes and waking up only as we disembarked.

The weather for the time of year was perfect, averaging around 27 degrees Celsius everyday, no rain and only a splattering of cloud cover.  We saw the sun rise every morning and the moon rise in the evening over the calm horizon.  Es Cana is relaxing (unless you go to the Hippy Market), tranquil and quite picturesque.  My initial thoughts about travelling to Ibiza were a little apprehensive. I knew I would enjoy the week with our party as Sue Sue and Kev are always great travel companions and entertainment, but as the initial questions from friends and colleagues resonated in my head, I was expecting a party town with cheesy entertainment.  Es Cana was the complete opposite, well, apart from the entertainment....."Crap!"

Sorrento - Italy

With our last few excursions devoid of sunshine it was time to top up the tan, head for sunnier climates and bring out the shorts and t shirts instead of woolly jumpers.

Our original intentions were to head over to the North of Italy as it is a place that Clare is vastly eager to get to and having visited to South of Italy for family commitments, a definite desired destination for myself.  The Lakes would have to wait a little longer though, because I would be treading on dodgy ground if I took Baby I to Italy for her first visit without going to see family.

We know Sorrento like the back of our hand and the transport (local trains) are so easy to navigate you can get pretty much anywhere in the Campania region.  After 2 previous visits to The Majestic Palace we could not stay at any other hotel and be given the same quality of food or service, so going against all our plans of seeing new places, we booked in.

A lot has changed since our last holiday in the world of Baby I, she has now found her feet, voice and understanding.  Restraints are the worst thing in the world, prams, high chairs and cuddles stop her from exploration (and mischief) but with her new love of her back pack and reigns and the freedom around the hotel we tried to accommodate this passion.

Arriving at the Majestic Palace was like coming back home, we were greeted at the check in desk like old friends and walking into the restaurant to see Vicenzo still in charge, who recognised us instantly, showed us how valued we were as guests.  Bringing along my Mum, Dad, Aunties and Uncles for the holiday meant that our party was just a little more special.


Our first day was planned to be relaxed and to get our bearings.  Walking the familiar streets back to Piazzo Tasso (the main square), ambling down the gulleys and taking in local delicacies (gelato at Davide's).  We ate in the park whilst chasing pigeons, dipped our feet in the hotel pool (the water was freezing) and started our love of Italian food at the evening meal.

As part of a birthday treat/holiday treat, we had booked in for an Italian Cooking course at a genuine Italian Restaurant.  Preparing 5 courses from scratch to finally enjoy our handy work with local wine and limoncello.  We started with making egg pasta which needed at least 2 hours to settle.  With the dough divided between all the students we pressed, pushed and kneaded the gluton to the right consistency.  Next on the list was the Bolognese sauce; this was cooked by the head chef himself whilst we wrote down the ingredients and method.  Hearing the garlic and onions should never be in the same pan surprised me no end. Whilst the sauce was then left to stew for another couple of hours, we proceeded onto another course, the desert.  Not being a fan of Tiramasu, I was a little sparing with the amount of coffee I put in, Clare on the other hand....I must admit, when we had completed our masterpieces, they did look rather tempting.  But, they needed refrigerating for later, so onto the next course.  Chicken Scalopina are thin slices of chicken cooked in flour with mozerella, sauce and tomato.  Once cooked, they could be put to one side and then reheated when necessary, for our meal.  Before bringing out the egg pasta for the grand reveal, we had bruschetta with tomato, olives, oil, garlic, and cheese.  With a tot of wine, the taste was divine.  This only wet my taste buds for the meal ahead of us.

When the egg pasta dough was brought out of the cooling zone, it stood as a proud mess.  Far from the final result of Tagliatelle, there was a lot of work to do, and Clare was one of the delegates who were chosen to feed the dough through the pasta machine time and time again.  This was great entertainment watching the feeding team grow and grow with each pass.  What started with 1 soon progressed to 4 and continued until students were running out of room in the kitchen.  William (Head Chef) kept the frivolities going through the whole process but also made sure that rules were followed to make sure the pasta retained its consistency.

Once the pasta was at the right thickness it was down to slicing, hanging and then cooking.

The spare parts of egg pasta remaining were portioned into ravioli with 3 cheese fillings.

The whole meal came together with little hiccups, we sat outside and enjoyed every course knowing that it was all freshly prepared, full of flavour and perfectly finalised with limonchello.
I would recommend this course to anyone who is in the Sorrento Area.

The next few days were busy times

Firstly we headed to Pompeii, to which Baby I decided to flash a group of passing tourists and nuns outside the Basilica! We lit a candle for her brother and our son, Spud who will be with us on ever journey we make.

Our main reason to head to the South of Italy again was to let baby I meet the family.  Our journey to the famiglia, altough only 30km away is never easy.  First from Sorrento to Pompeii, across pompeii to another train station, from Pompeii to Salerno and then the metro over to family.  A 3 and a half hour journey, in Italian heat, with a little baby....not the easiest.

 Thankfully, there were grandparents, uncles and aunties on hand for support. Firstly we visited Zia Angelina and Zio Matteo, joined by cousin Tonino and Rosaria.  Baby I was on form, but must have been confused with all the language change.  Next was on to Zio Mario, my cousin Sabrina had decided to top up her tan, so unfortunately we missed her on this visit.  We then nipped down to pay our respects to Zio Vincenzo who had sadly passed away to the vineyard in the sky.  His botch area, to which I hold great and fond memories had grown over.  This was heartbreaking to see, but as I said, we still had the memories of playing botch whilst being bitten numerous times by mosquito's.

Finally, we knew the only way to mark our visit back home was to nip into Giardino Degli Dei. The family restaurant with the greatest Pizza and Mozzerella on the planet (in my opinion).  This place will always have great memories for myself and I hope that in years to come Isabella will venture back there for further pizza (and maybe take her dear old Dad).

The journey back to Sorrento was again, long and arduous, but we had done what we intended, taken Isabella back to her roots.  It was just unfortunate that some family members had other plans.  As we decide to see the rest of the world, it may be a few more years until we venture back.

After our long day of trapsing across the coastline, we all needed a little rest so hired a boat and captain to take us on a coastal tour of Sorrento.  With Capri on one side and the stunning Sorrentine peninsula on the other, doused in glorious sunshine, we were truly blessed. We had the chance to have a little splash in the sea in a little alcove, taste some more Limoncello and relax to take in the views.




I am happy to tick Sorrento of the visiting list now and see what the rest of Italy has to offer.  The Lemons of Sorrento will always hold a special place in our hearts, but it is time to venture further North.

Riga, Latvia

We arrived at Riga Airport and for the second time that day I was asked, "Why are you bringing a baby to Riga?", my response was the same each time.  " I am showing my daughter the world"

After the successful little trip to a familiar city, Krakow, we had now entered unknown territory, The Baltics.  Riga had cropped up on the cheap flights suggestions and we are always up for venturing to new shores.  One thing we had learnt though, was hotel rooms are difficult with a tiny, little monster so this time round we had opted for an apartment.  This is the future!

As we arrived at Riga Apartment Sonada, we quickly realised the benefits of booking a larger space. With a vast dining/living area, Baby I was able to scoot around and have a much freedom as we deemed safe.  With us having this living space instead of a hotel room, it gave us an area for Baby I to play in, but also cooking facilities, a place to eat, and a kitchen to prepare food for baby.  There was a separate bunk bed bedroom and 2 pull out sofa beds in the living room.

We decided to venture out towards Old Town as this is where Trip Advisor had recommended.  All wrapped up we started our long walk down Gertudes, but it seemed longer than planned.  Once we arrived at Hero's Monument, we headed into the cobbled streets and narrow alleyways of the Old Town.  Within minutes, we felt lost, confused and underwhelmed.  This city centre hosted a warren of streets, squares, passages, buildings that looked like they had been randomly placed and square upon square.  We both decided that after a long day we should head back, grab some food along the way and then settle in for the night, gain our bearings and then head off fresh in the morning.

Riga city is true to it's origins with the buildings and feel, but it seems to have been a little over run with the "standard" food eateries.  When abroad, I like to eat as the locals do, drink as the locals do and experience true experiences.  Most of the restaurants were American steak houses, TFI Fridays, Italian, Greek, nothing from Latvia.  This is obviously prevalent of  a Capital City and I knew we would have to search for the true Latvian cuisine.

One group of restaurants that had been recommended were the Lido's.  A buffet style, grab a tray, choose your food and take it to your table establishment, but more traditional food could be sampled. I opted for some stuffed chicken, which was a little too heavy for me, but Clare's "meat wrapped in cabbage" was lovely.  Baby I had a few nibbles of veg, but was ready for home.




In the morning, after a hearty breakfast for all, we decided to head over to Central Market.  Quoted as
the largest Market in Europe, I cannot argue with this statement.  Housed in multiple old Zeppelin Hangers, each one hosting a different produce, this was vast.  Outside each hanger are more stalls, fruit vendors, clothes, cakes, and Latvian mittens.  We first entered the "Meat" hanger.  Every single cut of meat, offal, and mystery meat was on display, there was not a single ounce animal wasted, every morsel was available to purchase.  As we wondered round, I started to play a game of "Name the meat!", I failed miserably.

Once we had found the beer hanger and I had purchased some local ale, it was time to head towards the Old Town again.  Maybe this time, in the light, we would find ourselves easier.  Entering from a different direction did not help, within minutes we were ambling round with little purpose.  I am always up for an exploration, but the twists and turns were hard to manage.  We headed back to our apartment for a quick play break and then out to a local Lido for our evening meal.  Maybe tomorrow we would have better bearings.

I always enjoy a holiday run, and Latvia was no exception.  I had done my research and around the old town were a few scattered parks.  As it was Saturday morning I was happy to take part in a solo ParkRun.  On my return I found myself closer to the Apartment than I had thought, I had found a little shortcut home, Riga was starting to make sense.

Clare and I, the night before, had decided to conquer the Old Town and had downloaded a city walking tour guide (https://www.inyourpocket.com/riga/Old-Riga-walking-tour_71284f), and we had a plan.  It all began to make much more sense.  We navigated the streets, alleyways and cobbled pathways like professionals following our step by step, highlight by highlight guide.  Bastion Hill, The Powder House, Swedish Gate, Castle, Palace, House of the Blackheads, all ticked off in style without ever feeling lost.  We had claimed the city.  Once we had our bearings, Riga seemed to take on a whole new perspective, it is a stunning city, colourful, vibrant and still very random with it's building choices.  With only the lack of real Latvian cuisine still missing, we opted to eat at the Harley Davidson Riga Chapter house, I did have Latvian Black Pudding, but it lacked that authenticity.

Based on the success of the Walking Tour of Old Town, we obtained a Art Nouveau tour (https://www.inyourpocket.com/riga/Art-Nouveau-in-Riga_71844f) to see the wonderful, misplaced, random, gothic, buildings scattered on the outskirts of the city.  With buildings that looked like they would fit perfectly in a Grimm Fairytale, others that were so colourful on a plain coloured street, even buildings with Egyptian Sphinx on the exterior.  No street was the same, this was fascinating.  Again, Riga had taken on more in our minds, instead of looking down we were now looking up at all the buildings around.  Whilst on our little tour, we found a little authentic cuisine restaurant that looked appealing.  Right at the bottom of our street, although the street was a good mile long, it was still somewhere for our evening meal.

Clare opted for a chicken dish, covered in chicken broth and a large carrot cake to finish, whilst I had some pork delight after a delicious beetroot soup.  I was feeling satisfied with my meal so instead of dessert, I opted for the local Black Balsam liqueur as an aperitif, there was a little swaying on the way home.  An excellent meal, a little too nouvelle cuisine for our standards, but very tasty, we were both happy to have eaten here.

As we awoke on our final day in Riga, we started to wonder if someone had decided to turn the heating off during the night.  Somehow the last few days it had been -1 to -4 degrees celcius, but this morning it had dropped to -14. MINUS 14? Where did that come from?

We decided to head towards the local shopping galleries to stay in the warmth, but with both Clare and I having little interest in shopping, we were soon back outside and walking through the parks back to the familiar Old Town.  Today, it was too cold to be out and about mooching around the squares and streets so it was in and out of souvenir shops, liqueur shops (I had to get some Balsam to bring home) and chocolate shops, a quick bite to eat and then head back to the warmth of our apartment.

As the temperature failed to rise throughout the rest of the day, we decided to finalise our holiday with an all out meal at our local Lido.  3 course meal, chips for Baby I, drinks for both Clare and I and still change out of 20 euro, not bad at all.

What started as a little too daunting and seemingly void of personality became a stunning location full of character and charm.  Riga is a delight and a very interesting place to visit, one I am glad to have ticked off the list.

As we waited in the departure lounge, Baby I and Daddy had a little walk to burn some energy, one gentleman asked, "Why did you bring a baby to Riga at this time of year?", my reply was exactly the same....

"I want to show her the world!"

Krakow (December 2016) Poland

With 2017's destinations planned, we knew it was only right to get Baby I used to flying, holidays, hotels and different cuisines.  At only 10 months old, this was daunting for us as well as her.  We decided to return to a familiar location, one that we knew the hotel, knew the food and knew the city well enough to navigate round, Krakow.

An early morning get up interfered with all our sleep, and security at the Airport was not the quickest especially getting Baby I in and out of snow suits and collapsing the pram time and time again, not taking into account that I had been knocked off my bicycle only a couple of weeks before, so struggled to carry luggage or even help out.  Once we had cleared the final stages before we were due to relax, we noticed that there was no time for that as boarding had already commenced!

We boarded our flight in a fluster, disturbed a seated passenger to squeeze into our window seats and prepared for the horror that all other new parents had warned us of.  As we approached the runway, the plane engines revved and our little angel closed her eyes.  She fell asleep for pretty much the entire flight only to wake 15 minutes before landing.

Back to the Hotel Galicya, little had changed since our last visit, but that was what we wanted.  We donned our woollies and headed of toward the Rynek Glowny and the Christmas Markets.  Baby I has an aversion to hats and gloves in the UK, but we had hoped that the fresh cold air in Poland would give her incentive to keep warm.  How wrong we were! Within minutes of leaving the hotel, she was hatless and her little fingers exposed. An amble round the Christmas Markets, and a little hot drink for Clare, a piwo for me a couple of sandwiches for lunch and it was time to head back to the room. Baby I had not really eaten much, so we decided to chill out at the hotel after a long day and try to get some food down her.  Clare, whilst a rep in multiple holiday resorts, had advised parents on holiday with young children who were suffering with the change in climate and food to venture to a McDonald's "Restaurant".  Having not really ventured into this global franchise for a long time, I reluctantly ordered a Polish Happy Meal for my ailing princess.  Inside the Happy Meal was a 3D book for animals, all in Polish, and this was perfect for Baby I who loves books, it was reading it to her that was the problem.

We tried to incorporate new experiences in the already familiar location instead of continually treading old ground.  We had seen varying dragon designs on all the Christmas Markets and the Cloth Market on each time we had come to visit, but never really understood why.  So finding Smok the fire breathing dragon near Warwel Castle gave us a little insight, but why this is a staple character in the Krakowian fable lore, but, I am sure Google will help with that.  Our other new destination was Oskar Schindler's Faktory in the old part of the Jewish Quarter.  Looking at his life, Krakow and Poland through World War II and how the Jewish community was treated and how the Factory worked.  This was all vastly interesting, but also a little over powering.  One group of English Tourists complained about us taking Baby I there as it was "not a place to bring children".  First of all, was I supposed to leave her in a box outside for collection at a later time? Secondly, why should children be hidden from the past? This is something that never should be seen in her life and exposing her to harder times in life give her the strength to make positive decisions in life, plus she is 9 months old, so hardly at the life changing stage, she was happy to look at the lights!

Isabella started to eat fully again by the end of the week indulging on the Christmas Market delights and treats.  We had put her rosy cheeks down to the cold weather and her loss of appetite down to the country difference, but it turns out that she was teething and her 7th tooth was breaking through.  This also made us think that taking everything into account, she was a pretty good travel baby and we are looking forward to our next venture, our new country for the year.