The early days of summer in Devon.

I've moved, many times, and although I'm drawn to the dynamism of city life, there's a part of me that yearns for life in the country. So after a few months in London, an escape to a farm in Devon sounded heavenly. I made arrangements with Becky, the owner of Cuckoo Down Farm, in February and in the middle of May, I found myself taking a train to Honiton (having left my licence in Ireland!) to spend a few days in the countryside - a welcome retreat from my busy life in the city.

It was a beautiful evening when, after a few wrong turns, the taxi pulled up to the farm. The farm is actually very well signposted and the owners were great at giving instruction by phone - shame neither myself nor the taxi driver were paying much attention, enrapt as we were with the winding lanes and pretty houses, barely visible through the trees.

A view of Cuckoo Down Farm, from the entrance

John, one of the owners, was straight out to meet me, and even took my backpack up to my safari tent, Daisy, for me (all the tents are named after plants). This gave me a chance to wander past the animals (goats, chickens, a donkey), over a wooden bridge and up the gently sloped field to the safari tent.

Inside, it was remarkable - like a country cottage - yet under a tent. Two separate bedrooms, furnished with high-quality beds and linen. The living and dining area was sizeable, easily enough for a couple of families to take over after a day at the beach or nearby attractions. A small kitchen had everything required - a proper kettle, gas cooker top, cutlery - and separate bins for food, recyclables and unrecycled waste. Cuckoo Down is intent on sustainability and friendly to the environment, so all guests are requested to bring their waste to the compost and rubbish bins at the bottom of the field where the tents and yurts are situated. Points from me! They'd also left a complimentary bottle of wine and warm wishes for my stay. This beats the luxury of 5 star hotels for me - it really feels like they care about their guests here.

Comfy sofa bed and part of dining table

After spending most of the day travelling, I was sweaty and tired, so I laid down on the sofa (bed) to restore my energy. A short while later, Becky arrived on horseback to say hello and check that I was settling in nicely. She let me know about some of the local area and pointed out the helpful book they have put together with details of local pubs, restaurants, culture and places to see. It is packed with things to do - you could easily spend two weeks here. Cuckoo Down Farm is only 12 miles from Exeter, and about 5 miles from the nearest town, but there are many things to do within driving distance, so it's highly recommended you bring your car. I got by fine on foot and public transport, but I never got to the beach due to no car - even though it was blisteringly hot. I considered hitching, but since it was mid-week, I thought I was unlikely to find a car headed that way.

After discovering the local shop (reasonably well-stocked, but pricey) and wandering around the farm a bit, I sat down and simply watched the sun set from the deck.

It was utterly peaceful, with the only sound being the sheep in surrounding fields and birds singing in the treetops.

When darkness falls, there are lanterns to light the way to the compost toilet (right beside your safari tent) or for reading out on the deck. These can be charged back up at the entrance to the farm, and there are spares awaiting (there's also room to charge your phones/iPads), fridges for each tent/yurt so you can store chilled goods.

Next morning, gentle sounds of wildlife drifted into my tent and after a wonderful night sleep, I emerged in the dewy mist to wander through the woods at the back of tent. The scent of honeysuckle hangs in the air here and a few lungfuls will make you expel all the dirt of the city. There are a few trails through the woods that are easy enough for children, but be careful of ticks - I was fine, but I had my hiking boots and good socks on (even in the heat). I also ordered a dinner off Paul and Carolyn Bellinger, who have a small local farm, who are recommended on the Cuckoo Down Farm website. Proper, home cooked food that was steaming hot on arrival - the cottage pie was huge and hearty and the sticky toffee pudding was delightfully indulgent (and so far from the M&S or Sainsbury's packaged versions you get!) It's also very reasonable and delivered right to your tent, so if you're out on your feet, dinner is sorted.

I spent 4 days on the farm and it's been years since I felt so refreshed. I managed to explore both the local town, Ottery St. Mary and Exeter city, with the local bus that runs from a garage about 15 minutes away. Both were well worth a visit, with special mentions to The Rusty Pig,   where I had an exquisite meal cooked for me from just a brief conversation with the Chef, and the Glorious Art House; I stopped in for Wi-fi and found great food, friendly staff and a charming outdoor area hidden from passersby. On the other days I simply went for walks around the farm and nearby. In the evenings, I didn't feel compelled to go to the nearby pubs, simply sitting/lying outside with my book (and a cheeky glass of wine) was enough for me. For someone who is always on the go, this place gently put a stop to that. I would happily spend 4 days every week here.

For my first foray into the countryside of Devon, I was probably a bit spoilt! The chickens ran to greet me every morning (I must have smelled like food) and the sun shone almost every moment. Only on the last day the temperature dropped and I set up the wood-burning stove, which made the place lovely and cosy - perfect for a rainy day playing board games (or in my case, more reading).

Chicken Run!

Morning strolls

Plant life

Spacious, private, deck

Pretty Exeter

Better than most boutique hotels!

Bergen - Picturesque but rainy

I arrived into Bergen on the Rotterdam ship one Monday morning in July. The skies were overcast but I wasn't about to let rain deter me from the one day I had in this port.

Bergen is famous for its World Heritage Site of Bryggen, which is the fishing wharf with brightly painted buildings. However, there are other places of interest in this picturesque city, Immediately evident is the aesthetically pleasing Norwegian architecture throughout but nature is also on the doorstep, with the sea and mountains both surrounding this port city.

First stop was, predictably, the Bergenhus Fortress, situated as it is on the harbour. One of the oldest castles in Norway, it is remarkably well-preserved and the defensive tower from the 13th Century still stands proudly overlooking the water. The fortress is still used by the Royal Norwegian Navy however the buildings within at one point accommodated the royal family, a church and a bishop's residence. I was interested in learning about it and I always admire old buildings and ponder at what stories we aren't told.

I grabbed a hot tea from a roadside van to warm me up as a persistent mist threatened rain and I headed along the waterfront, with all it's pretty buildings. Many of these are souvenir shops, so I walked on, heading to the funicular to take me to the top of Mount Floyen. The funicular costs NOK 45 (approx EUR 4.80 or GBP 4.30) one way, although you can take a steep walk of over an hour to get up there. I love funiculars so I decided on this, particularly as the rain was now pouring out of the sky. The trip takes between 5 - 8 minutes so you quickly gain great views across the city. At the top, the views are quite breathtaking as you can take in the several mountains around and the different parts of the city. The rain obviously didn't deter many tourists, as it was pretty busy there.

Misty panorama of Bergen and me

I had heard that the coffeeshop/restaurant at the top were quite nice, although pretty expensive - like most things in Norway, but I wasn't hungry or needing a break yet. There's a playground with troll figures for kid's to enjoy and different scenic walks through the mountains that lead off from here. I decided on walking back towards the city. A couple hundred metres from the viewpoints, I came across some free-roaming goats, who are tagged with this new technology that prevents them from going outside certain areas. I'm not 100% that this is particularly animal-friendly, as it gives them an electric shock if they venture into prohibited areas, but I suppose at least they aren't penned in. Some of these goats were highly entertaining, with one parading around on a table top, posing for pictures. I also found it amusing that the only black goat was called Obama.

Off I wandered back down the mountain, through the forest and on a well-worn path. The views are quite nice on the way down too and I enjoyed being out in the fresh air. It took me around 40 minutes to get back to the city and I had worked up a bit of an appetite so I headed through the fish market to Trekroneran for a tasty, budget-friendly meal. This small stall has a variety of hot dog options around 50 - 60 NOK (Around GBP 5 - 6). I thoroughly enjoyed it and I'm not normally a hot dog fan.

I wanted to visit Troldhaugen, the composer Edvard Grieg's house but I hadn't left enough time (the perils of drinking in the crew bar til 4am). The house is a living museum and concerts are held daily in the summer at lunchtime. It was now past that and I was worried if I took the bus that I wouldn't make it back to the boat on time. You can take a bus from the Visitor's Centre in Bryggen and please go if you're a music lover!

I wandered back through the wooden houses of Bryggen, visiting the shops and workshops that sell a myriad of tourist goods but also some beautiful handcrafts and clothing. All the staff have impeccable English and were really friendly. I bought a couple of affordable items for friends who may not make it this far North and headed back to the ship.

I definitely wished I had more time to spend in Bergen as it was somewhere that surprised and delighted me, with its' quirky streets and an abundance of cafés and restaurants that I'd be keen to try if feeling more flush.

We set sail in late afternoon, luckily getting some spectacular scenic cruising in before we left Norway. The sun came out a little, but my photos definitely would have benefitted from better light.

White-water Rafting - Omis

We were already in motion as breakfast took place on Friday morning. I was in great spirits after a good night sleep and was dancing around our cabin. Sarah was just laughing at me, particularly when I managed to stub my toe off the end of the bed and yowled in pain. I wasn't excited it was the last day but I was definitely going to make the most of it.

After our morning swim we all congregated on deck to chat about our plans for the day and night. Most of us had signed up for white water rafting which we would reach by bus from our next stop in Omis. Some of the girls had opted to stay behind for some shopping and Louise said she would organise dinner and drinks for Allan's birthday that evening.

So we boarded a couple of buses to take us to our start point and I got to catch up with Katie and the goings-on with some of our other passengers and accompanying Sail Croatia boats. It seemed there was no end of scandal and the final night was sure to bring some more! Put it this way, there'd been lots of secrecy about who was with who and as a result some egos had been hurt and others had been doing things as revenge. Possibly a little childish, but what does anyone expect with boatful's of single people?

All of our group couldn't fit in the one boat, which was a little disappointing but we kitted up and got ready to go. I'd never tried it before and was very excited, if a little nervous that I might get flung off over some rocks! Gary and Gareth took up the front, Cahal and Pearce behind them, Lucie and I were opposite eachother with Doug and Lisa beside the instructor(whose name escapes me right now). Doug had chosen to ride with us for some good photo ops.

Our instructor was brilliant and it seemed pretty clear. There was also something very sexy about him in a real rugged, outdoorsy way :)
We could row forward or back and Boomba! meant get your oars flat on the side of the raft as quick as possible and duck! It started off rather gently but we were in hot pursuit of the other boats and enjoyed a bit of splashing them with our oars, particularly one of the other boats who were rowing around in circles. We seemed to get a good rhythm going between us, but I think I may have poked Lisa or Lucie on the knee once or twice with my oar. I'm not hopelessly uncoordinated but nor am I a natural! It was much better fun whenever the instructor shouted "Boomba!" as the trees came in low and we all had to scramble low in the boat. Once I managed to miss this and got walloped by a branch but I thought it was quite funny.

We also rowed hard up against some rocks to get right up and over having a proper splash down and emptying our helmets of water over ourselves and other boats to cool down (It was utterly freezing water) and have some water fights. The scenery was absolutely spectacular. We made our way slowly through these towering rocks (which people have been known to base jump off) and it was like a scene from Lord of the Rings. Once again, Croatia was taking my breath away and I've no idea why it's such an under-rated place for holidays.

We stopped at a little place to climb to our next part as apparently the rafting was too advanced and dangerous in one part of the river. That was a little disappointing but a stroll through the hills in the sunshine was lovely and Lisa tried to convince Phil that a tumble in the jungle might be some fun - unfortunately there was no time for that!

Back in our boats we had some more fun, picking up speed to make the drops more exciting. There was plenty of laughter on our boat and the girls had pushed through the pain barrier (It really hurts your arms at the start then it doesn't seem to matter so much anymore) so we all had a good rhythm going again. We rowed in under a freezing waterfall and got some great photos of Lucie and Gareth enjoying splashing around in a cave (I swear both must have been dogs in a former life - and I mean that in a good way) and then onto a rest stop where the boys took turns in jumping off some of the rocks. Plenty of belly flops there! Cahal seems to have jumping off things down to a fine art as he can back flip and move in mid-air - very graceful!!!

We were sad when it came to an end but it meant celebratory beers and chips after an exhilarating day. I'll definitely be trying that again, absolutely loved it!

Thanks again to Doug for the photos - none of our cameras were waterproof!

Deep in the undergrowth and back to comfort

Thursday brought hangovers to the young visitors in the Cain cottage. I awoke to hear someone quite ill in the bathroom next door and I tried to turn over and go back to sleep. After dozing for awhile Gareth and I realized the whole house was awake around us and we had better rouse ourselves for the walk we had planned with the family. Gareth's parents take long hikes almost every day, usually about 9 -10km, rounding up with a hearty pub lunch. The lunch part I completely got, but the school of thought I come from normally involves a bit of a walk to see a nice view or to get somewhere, not to take a detour of a few kilometers. Still when in Wales....

Gareth's Dad was really gracious about the fact that we had all rolled in drunk, slept too late and delayed their plans and we took off through the fields and down through a forest. It was really very pretty and I always appreciate greenery now since I live in the desert. Jenny was stung by some nettles right through her jeans but she recovered pretty quickly. Gareth climbed to the top of an old ruin - I thought he might try and jump off - he just has a boundless sense of adventure and a lack of fear but thankfully his Mum's cries made him come down, through a dark tunnel infested with god knows what! We then made our way down to the beach and it was absolutely breath-taking. I love the sea anywhere, but it was so unspoiled, nature as intended with views of the Welsh and British coastline speckled in places with sunlight and clouds in other areas. I got a bit excited when I thought I could see Ireland - but not from where we were unfortunately. We played on the beach with the doggy and looked in the rock pools for baby crabs. Then we climbed up again to the forest and found a rough path along the coast. The sky threatened rain but I could still hear the buzz of bees on the hedges. There were a few close calls with buzzing in my hair - which induces a worse panic when I'm hungover - and I think Gareth was tiring of my silly phobia. He was also hungover and  I think most of our patience was stretched a little thin!

We came to a beautiful lighthouse where I thought we might have a short break for tea but apparently we weren't half way there yet! We managed to convince Pete that we needed some water but I think he thought we were just lightweights (being completely right!). I was relieved to see a proper path leading back up towards various villages but Coral and Pete thought the low road through another forest might have been more interesting. There were many nettles to manouevre and little streams to jump across which normally I'd find quite fun, but I was feeling a little weary and longed for the normal path. Jenny, Owen and myself were obviously feeling the same as we all hung back, plodding slowly uphill through the forest, we could hear Pete up ahead and it's shameful that people twice our age were not even fazed by the physical activity whilst we tired so easily. Gareth came back a few times for me, particularly after I got nettle stings (managing to get some thorns up my coat sleeves!) and eventually it seemed we were on a road, looking at some lovely cottages and country homes. Finally we were at the pub, but we had missed lunch! The chef was nice enough to provide us some plates of chips and we made do with crisps and chocolate. I still couldn't face an alcoholic beverage and was quite surprised that Gareth could, but he never ceases to surprise me. Pete was jovial and asking me if I'd enjoyed the walk; the truth was that I really enjoyed the first few km, it was my own fault I was hungover and just wanted to sit for the last km or 2. After a few beverages Pete and Jenny decided they would walk home with the dog. The rest of us thought the rain was finally going to come down so we would take a bus back to St. Donat's. The bus-driver was ever so sweet and didn't charge us even though we had about 3 stops; Take note Bus Eireann!

We arrived back to the house as the heavens opened; only for us to realize that we had no keys. Jenny and Pete weren't home so Gareth decided he would climb through our bedroom window to get in. How I wish I had it on camera! So we happily came in out of the rain whilst poor Pete and Jenny got caught in it. For food, a Smorgasbord was decided on - this family could not have been more after my own heart - there was Le Rustique, rocket salad, beetroot, corn beef pie and lots of fresh bread amongst many other tasty delights. My favorite food is tapas, mainly because I find it hard to choose so little bits of many good foods - in any culture absolutely delight me. We all curled up to watch "The Shawshank Redemption" as I had never seen it. The rain battered the windows and the wind howled down the country lanes as we snuggled, drank wine and watched a great film in lovely company. We all retired to bed early and another part of our journey had been completed - leaving me with a feeling of perfect contentment. Saying goodbye to Coral and Pete I felt there was no question I would be back in this wonderful hearth of happiness without any realisement of how wrong I could be.
Hold onto perfect moments and savour them for a few more seconds....

A-chilling

Ohhhh, Achill island. I physically pine for the place when I've been away too long. There's a weird disparity about the places I yearn for - the place I live (Dubai) and my favorite place (Achill). Dubai is the desert, where life is fast, transient and sometimes very shallow. Achill is remote, green, good for the soul and full of wandering artists. It's a tonic for me, and re-fuels me to go back to real life when I've left. Gareth was waiting with bated breath to get to Achill; I've spoken so much about it in our short time together and I think he was eager to walk some hills. After a stroll around Galway city and bemoaning the fact we couldn't stay there longer, we hit a rainy, windy road to Castlebar. There we stopped to stock up on groceries and the last leg of the road to Achill. As I drove the last 30km or so, I already felt the air seeping into my bones and the excitement building. We rocked up to the Valley House - http://www.valley-house.com/ A historic building with a bar and hostel that I've been visiting and staying in for years. When I was young, it was Roger that ran the place and could always be found manning the bar; now it's his son Pat, and it's well renowned to be one of the best places to drink Guinness in Ireland, if not the world. It's always the first thing I do - order a pint of their finest and savour each creamy drop. Gareth claims he doesn't like Guinness and he didn't deign to try it that Friday evening. After unloading our considerable amounts of luggage, I took a drive across to Keel, via Dugort. Slievemore was crowned with a cloud; a usual sight as we drove past the strand. Over in Keel, Gareth and I took a little walk along the beach towards the cliff. About half-way in the drizzle started so we headed back towards Keel to meet my parents.

We had arranged to meet Mum and Dad at the Bayside Bistro in Keel for dinner. Their specials looked absolutely delectable so we ordered a nice bottle of Sancerre and waited for the parents to arrive. Gareth had yet to meet Dad so I was a little apprehensive but not hugely; Mum was a fan so I'm sure she'd have laid the groundwork for me! They arrived, a little tired from their journey and ready to be fed. The restaurant did not disappoint. The scallops went down a treat, as did the sea bass. Everyone seemed to be getting along fine! After the meal we headed back to the Valley to catch up with some old friends and have a right old session. The Valley is well known for nights full of music, anyone with a guitar, whistle or banjo pitches up by the fireplace and usually magic is created. Some friends and old bandmates of my Dad were there so the tunes started and the Guinness was flowing. I got into the spirit and did a few numbers myself, even singing lyrics off my Mum's iPad when people had requests! My oldest friend, April was down for the weekend too so I was up for a good chinwag. I introduced Gareth to April and bold as brass she said to him "You're a ride". I don't know what it is about him but the Irish girls seem to love him ;) It was a great night, hazy in the memory but full of melody and smiles....A-chilling again.