Category Archives: Tourism

Ecuador – months 3 and 4 in photos

Second batch of photos from our time in Ecuador. I should state that these photos are only one (small) part of our time here, it’s the “fun/travel part”. Most of our time was spent working and living at the Casa Hogar (an orphanage). But when we got the chance to escape for a day or two, we grabbed it and tried to do short visits to nearby places. These are just a slice of our time in the country, we certainly haven’t spent our time travelling around (unfortunately).
I realise I’m way overdue for this post as we are well into month 6… We just came back from a great trip around the country with two very dear friends who came all the way from Europe to say hola and see Ecuador (photos to be posted in the coming weeks). There has been quite a big shift in our situation here as we no longer live at the orphanage (more on that later). We’ve just found a little studio in a town called Cuenca and we’ll be there for the remaining 6 weeks we have before going back to France.

Ecuador – our first 2 months in photos

London Calling…I’ll get it.

It has been almost exactly two years since we left London.  Well – since Chris left London, and since Ann ran for her life.

While Chris and I are very much a unit, we are not always united.  We come from vastly different molds, he and I.  Like most moderately successful couples, we’re very much on par about the things that are important to us – the deal breakers – and we make lots of room for respecting our respective remaining and widely ranging opinions on the world around us.  London is one of those things in the world on which our opinions diverge.

Chris’ take on London falls in line with what I’ve come to accept is the reigning opinion of almost everyone alive:  London is vibrant, beautiful, electric, alive!  I don’t disagree with any of those things.  I just had a tough run…owing to me, to others, to circumstances…but mostly – as it is so often in this sometimes-humiliating life – to me.

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Sud-Sud-Ouest* – Photos

Following on Ann’s post about our vacation on the South West coast of France, here is a post with mostly photos of this camping/road trip through an area of France (and Spain) that neither of us had been before and it was great.
We drove 1880Kms and let’s just say we didn’t exactly follow the initial plan (why would we?!). In true grown-up style, we left with no tent, no stove and a list of potential campsites but no direction to any but one of them.

The trip involved a visit to a friend we met in the Philippines, our first ‘fête des voisins’, running on an empty beach at 6am, swimming in the Atlantique, a stolen backpack, a naturist beach, some carrot shredding, one truly great campsite, a vegan restaurant, a great city, some walking and a hail storm warning that didn’t materialised. Three of the items listed above occured at the same location, let’s see if you can figure it out (twisted suggestions welcome in the comment section below).

Fête des voisins in Bordeaux. We were not part of the neighborhood but were made to feel very welcome.

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I am a big believer in vacations.  That isn’t to say that I’d like life to be one big vacation – quite the contrary.  In fact, I love to work, when the work is something I love.  But I also deeply believe in the principal of getting away.  After all, that’s what vacation means, from vacate + tion (the action or instance of…):  the act of vacating.

[Incidentally, for whatever reason, the British insist upon calling it a holiday, a misnomer (from the Middle English for holy day – quite clearly not the same thing) I picked up for no other reason than that I like the shortened version:  hols.  As in, “Can’t make it to your party as we’ll be on hols that week.”  I also like saying brolly in lieu of umbrella.]

A couple of years ago Chris and I watched a very good TED talk by a designer about how he takes a year off every seven years for a sabbatical, so that he can sort of recharge his creative batteries (do listen to him explain it…he does a much better job than I could).  On a more micro-level, there was a prominent British mathematician called G.H. Hardy who spelled it out thus:

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Reflections on Zürich, Part I

Am sat in an incredibly cute café in Geneva, bursting with the colors of childhood, India, and what I’ve come to associate with kitsch East London decor, whilst I await my train to Paris, en route to Le Puy, where I’ll arrive just in time for dinner tonight.  The past week has been filled with so many things extraordinary and magical, if a tiny bit dampened by the reactions of certain 7- and 10-year olds who “see that every day!”

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