Travel not-meme
Aug. 23rd, 2013 12:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
slemslempikeThis isn't really a travel meme, it's the questionnaire that the Independent asks celebrities to fill in space in their travel section. So it's assuming that holiday mostly means abroad, which is not true for a lot of people. It mostly is for me, though, so I was happy enough answering it.
First holiday memory?
I think this would probably be Wales. My grandparents had a holiday cottage there, and we spent a lot of our holidays there. It was cold, rainy and damp, and quite great. I remember going on the swing, stroking the sheep in the next field through the fence (and one biting my jumper, possibly in act of revenge). I'm not sure what I think is my earliest earliest holiday memory is Wales. We were on a picnic in a field with a stream in it, and a bottle of lemonade started rolling down the hill towards the stream. I ran after it and then fell in the stream myself. It was quite a shock.
Best holiday?
Uzbekistan/Turkmenistan/Azerbaijan. Burning craters! Boats across the Caspian Sea! Winching! Underground lakes! Camels at market! Gorgeous silk road ruins! TACHMURAD.
Favourite place in the British Isles?
Excluding home, I think probably London. But this is less about the place than what it contains - comedy, theatre, friends.
What have you learnt from your travels?
Zillzilla means earthquake. Georgians don't like you to blow your nose in public. Pizza Hut pizza tastes the same most places, but they have different starters. Camel meat is tasty, but one lump of hump is enough. If travelling alone I will be grumpy for the first 24 hours until I adjust to being in Foreign.
Ideal travelling companion?
Jess! We spent a very pleasant time detailing to one another how awesome we were to travel with, and it's all true. Basically we gel very well about kinds of activity, the pace of a holiday, being able to say if we want to do something else, and liking to read quietly instead of entertain each other all the time.
Beach bum, culture vulture or adrenalin junkie?
I am somewhere between culture vulture and adrenalin junkie. Much more culture vulture, I suppose, as I will seek out a weird or exemplary museum anywhere I am. I like adrenalin stuff, but it clashes with my laziness. So bungee jump yes, as there's no effort in falling, but climbing a mountain no, as I am not a fan of going up things under my own steam. I have parachuted (though not on holiday), climbed a glacier, bungee jumped, ski-ed, surfed (very badly), rollercoasted, done some mild rafting, and nearly sky-dived (the skies were too cloudy on the day). I still have a vague intention of doing a learn-to-snowboard holiday at some point. But these are occasional activities, while ruins and looking at cities and going to museums and galleries are staples.
Greatest travel luxury?
Booking a room rather than sharing a dorm. This is a very worthwhile luxury for me because I don't tend to go out very much in the evenings when I'm on holiday, so if I have my own room I can just read and relax on my own without worrying about disturbing other people, or other people disturbing me.
Holiday reading?
I like to take a large amount of books (8-10 books per week) that I will enjoy reading, but not necessary want to keep, so that I can jettison them en route. So before going away I visit charity shops and find engaging looking books that I probably wanted to read but didn't want to pay for, and stock up. In India I read the Bloggess's book, a Nora Ephron collection, a book about railways in the UK, and some rather odd novels from the 1960s. I have accidentally already stocked up before my next trip, which involves a 24 hour ferry trip, so I will have plenty of time to read.
What place has seduced you?
I'm not really sure what this question means. Probably somewhere I wasn't expecting to like, but ended up loving, rather than a place that twirled its moustache at me, inveigled its way into my housemaidly affections and then abandoned me, with child and without a post or a reference?
I generally go to places expecting to like them at least a little. I suppose I wasn't really expecting to like Turkmenistan as much as I did, though that was in no small part due to Tachmurad, who sadly made no move of seduction (well, maybe not sadly, he has a wife). That might be partly because I feel like I only skirted the surface (not literally, actually, because we saw quite a bit of underground what with gaping craters and underground lakes), and I could happily return and see a great deal more (if it weren't for the oppressive regime etc).
Better to travel or arrive?
I tend to like traveling more than arriving, but arriving isn't the same thing as being there, which is the best thing. I can get into a vegetative state travelling, and then the arrival is a rude shock as I have to get out of my seat, into a change of climate, and stand around in queues for ages under bright lights and then think about things like where I have to get to and how while being a bit disorientated. I have just realised that this only really applies to airports. Although when I was little (and still, sometimes), I'd get into a nice warm doze in the back of the car and be quite sad when we arrived home and I had to get out.
Worst travel experience?
When I was about 15 we went on holiday to the French alps, in the summer. Three of us children were walking ahead through a town to where we were going next, and then I decided I'd go and join our parents and walk with them. But we'd gone round some corners, and I couldn't find them, and then when I went to find the others they weren't where I was expecting either, and I didn't know how to get to where we were going. After searching for a while and getting a bit more upset, I sensibly decided I'd go back to where the car was parked and wait there... except the car had gone too. So in a thorough state, because I didn't know where I was, or how to find anyone, I kept walking through the town to see if I could find where we were going by magic. it felt like this took a very long time, but was probably less than an hour when a car pulled up and it turned out to be my dad who'd been driging around looking for me. It was horribly scary. Also in Frnace, when I was about 9 or 10, there was a man in a market selling things for juicing oranges, and my aunt gave me the money and sent me over to buy two, but when I put the money down and took them he said I'd short-changed him, and everyone around started shouting and me in French and that was horrible too. Bloody France.
Worst hotel?
My worst hotel experience was styaing in the YHA at St Paul's, where the person on the bunk below me snored loudly and relentlessly for the entire night, and I got very little sleep indeed. But that's not really the fault of the hostel, though I wouldn't go back there again.
I think the hotel that was probably my least favourite was the one in Shimla, where Sam and I fell into the clutches of a tout, and as we were tired and it was cold, allowed ourselves to be led to a hotel that was up lots of stairs, and through quite a bit of iced-over snow. The room had a large bed, and a window that didn't really shut. This meant that it was absolutely freezing. I went to bed in more clothes than I wore during the day, and thankfully Sam had the excellent idea of filling up our empty drinking water bottles with hot water from the tap (which was at least plentiful and boiling) to be hot water bottles. But actually I slept pretty well there.
Best hotel?
I really liked the hotel we stayed at in Bundi. It could have been a huge disappointment, because we were supposed to be staying in an old elephant stable, but the owner bumped us in favour of some special guests, boo hiss. So we wandeered around until we found this one, and it had lovely airy rooms with pretty "authentic" decoration, a rooftop terrace which served the best gnocchi I ever hope to taste in my life, and a small child who was delightful.
Oh, and also with Sam (who clearly has good travel magic), we stayed at a hotel in Southport (to see I'm Sorry, I Haven't a Clue) where they upgraded us to a sort of suite thing. It wasn't the last word in opulence or anything, but we had several rooms, and some arms chairs, and a book with a plate about shooting tigers.
My favourite walk?
I really hate "walks". One of the great joys about being an adult is that at family gatherings when someone says "shall we go for a walk", I can say no, and no-one drags me out for the good of my health, so I can stay at home and watch TV or read a book in blissful quiet. I don't mind walking as transport so much (though for preference I will get a bus), and walking around a city to explore it is great, but walking as a pastime in itself does not appeal.
Best meal abroad?
Shortly before leaving Brussels I went to a crepes/galettes restaurant with my friend Heather, where I had the most amazing sausage and onion gallette, with tomato sauce and cheese. I was very tempted to have it again for pudding, but instead I had a crepe with salted caramel ice cream and sauce. I wish I'd had the sausages instead. That was probably the best food. For the meal as a whole, though, I pick one I had in Tblisi with Nine and Jess, where I had khinkali for the first time, tried some of Jess's brains (that she was eating), and we drank copious amounts of wine and toasted each other and every one we could think of with each drink.
Favourite city?
The one that come to mind is Amsterdam. I've only been once, earlier this year, and I didn't spend very much time there, but I thought it was beautiful, and I felt very calm and happy walking around. I enjoy being in London a lot too, though I wouldn't say calm was a factor there. Actually, I like Edinburgh a great deal, which is just as well.
Where next?
Tunisia, in September. I am currently reading guidebooks and finding all the things I would like to do. There is apparently a date museum. Oh, no, actually properly next is France, and Monaco. We're getting the ferry to Tunis from Marseille, so I'll be there for a bit, and I'm also going to pop over to Monaco for the day. I have had an intention to make a point of visiting the microstates for a while, and this will be my first. I thought I'd go since I'll be pretty close, and unlikely to be as near again without making a special effort.
After that - anywhere. I have sketched out a plan in my head of flying to Bologna, going to San Marino for a day, then to Pisa, Rome and Vatican City, and then Naples to see Pompei. I am due a holiday with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
anglaisepaon.
I am off to see Baconface now!
First holiday memory?
I think this would probably be Wales. My grandparents had a holiday cottage there, and we spent a lot of our holidays there. It was cold, rainy and damp, and quite great. I remember going on the swing, stroking the sheep in the next field through the fence (and one biting my jumper, possibly in act of revenge). I'm not sure what I think is my earliest earliest holiday memory is Wales. We were on a picnic in a field with a stream in it, and a bottle of lemonade started rolling down the hill towards the stream. I ran after it and then fell in the stream myself. It was quite a shock.
Best holiday?
Uzbekistan/Turkmenistan/Azerbaijan. Burning craters! Boats across the Caspian Sea! Winching! Underground lakes! Camels at market! Gorgeous silk road ruins! TACHMURAD.
Favourite place in the British Isles?
Excluding home, I think probably London. But this is less about the place than what it contains - comedy, theatre, friends.
What have you learnt from your travels?
Zillzilla means earthquake. Georgians don't like you to blow your nose in public. Pizza Hut pizza tastes the same most places, but they have different starters. Camel meat is tasty, but one lump of hump is enough. If travelling alone I will be grumpy for the first 24 hours until I adjust to being in Foreign.
Ideal travelling companion?
Jess! We spent a very pleasant time detailing to one another how awesome we were to travel with, and it's all true. Basically we gel very well about kinds of activity, the pace of a holiday, being able to say if we want to do something else, and liking to read quietly instead of entertain each other all the time.
Beach bum, culture vulture or adrenalin junkie?
I am somewhere between culture vulture and adrenalin junkie. Much more culture vulture, I suppose, as I will seek out a weird or exemplary museum anywhere I am. I like adrenalin stuff, but it clashes with my laziness. So bungee jump yes, as there's no effort in falling, but climbing a mountain no, as I am not a fan of going up things under my own steam. I have parachuted (though not on holiday), climbed a glacier, bungee jumped, ski-ed, surfed (very badly), rollercoasted, done some mild rafting, and nearly sky-dived (the skies were too cloudy on the day). I still have a vague intention of doing a learn-to-snowboard holiday at some point. But these are occasional activities, while ruins and looking at cities and going to museums and galleries are staples.
Greatest travel luxury?
Booking a room rather than sharing a dorm. This is a very worthwhile luxury for me because I don't tend to go out very much in the evenings when I'm on holiday, so if I have my own room I can just read and relax on my own without worrying about disturbing other people, or other people disturbing me.
Holiday reading?
I like to take a large amount of books (8-10 books per week) that I will enjoy reading, but not necessary want to keep, so that I can jettison them en route. So before going away I visit charity shops and find engaging looking books that I probably wanted to read but didn't want to pay for, and stock up. In India I read the Bloggess's book, a Nora Ephron collection, a book about railways in the UK, and some rather odd novels from the 1960s. I have accidentally already stocked up before my next trip, which involves a 24 hour ferry trip, so I will have plenty of time to read.
What place has seduced you?
I'm not really sure what this question means. Probably somewhere I wasn't expecting to like, but ended up loving, rather than a place that twirled its moustache at me, inveigled its way into my housemaidly affections and then abandoned me, with child and without a post or a reference?
I generally go to places expecting to like them at least a little. I suppose I wasn't really expecting to like Turkmenistan as much as I did, though that was in no small part due to Tachmurad, who sadly made no move of seduction (well, maybe not sadly, he has a wife). That might be partly because I feel like I only skirted the surface (not literally, actually, because we saw quite a bit of underground what with gaping craters and underground lakes), and I could happily return and see a great deal more (if it weren't for the oppressive regime etc).
Better to travel or arrive?
I tend to like traveling more than arriving, but arriving isn't the same thing as being there, which is the best thing. I can get into a vegetative state travelling, and then the arrival is a rude shock as I have to get out of my seat, into a change of climate, and stand around in queues for ages under bright lights and then think about things like where I have to get to and how while being a bit disorientated. I have just realised that this only really applies to airports. Although when I was little (and still, sometimes), I'd get into a nice warm doze in the back of the car and be quite sad when we arrived home and I had to get out.
Worst travel experience?
When I was about 15 we went on holiday to the French alps, in the summer. Three of us children were walking ahead through a town to where we were going next, and then I decided I'd go and join our parents and walk with them. But we'd gone round some corners, and I couldn't find them, and then when I went to find the others they weren't where I was expecting either, and I didn't know how to get to where we were going. After searching for a while and getting a bit more upset, I sensibly decided I'd go back to where the car was parked and wait there... except the car had gone too. So in a thorough state, because I didn't know where I was, or how to find anyone, I kept walking through the town to see if I could find where we were going by magic. it felt like this took a very long time, but was probably less than an hour when a car pulled up and it turned out to be my dad who'd been driging around looking for me. It was horribly scary. Also in Frnace, when I was about 9 or 10, there was a man in a market selling things for juicing oranges, and my aunt gave me the money and sent me over to buy two, but when I put the money down and took them he said I'd short-changed him, and everyone around started shouting and me in French and that was horrible too. Bloody France.
Worst hotel?
My worst hotel experience was styaing in the YHA at St Paul's, where the person on the bunk below me snored loudly and relentlessly for the entire night, and I got very little sleep indeed. But that's not really the fault of the hostel, though I wouldn't go back there again.
I think the hotel that was probably my least favourite was the one in Shimla, where Sam and I fell into the clutches of a tout, and as we were tired and it was cold, allowed ourselves to be led to a hotel that was up lots of stairs, and through quite a bit of iced-over snow. The room had a large bed, and a window that didn't really shut. This meant that it was absolutely freezing. I went to bed in more clothes than I wore during the day, and thankfully Sam had the excellent idea of filling up our empty drinking water bottles with hot water from the tap (which was at least plentiful and boiling) to be hot water bottles. But actually I slept pretty well there.
Best hotel?
I really liked the hotel we stayed at in Bundi. It could have been a huge disappointment, because we were supposed to be staying in an old elephant stable, but the owner bumped us in favour of some special guests, boo hiss. So we wandeered around until we found this one, and it had lovely airy rooms with pretty "authentic" decoration, a rooftop terrace which served the best gnocchi I ever hope to taste in my life, and a small child who was delightful.
Oh, and also with Sam (who clearly has good travel magic), we stayed at a hotel in Southport (to see I'm Sorry, I Haven't a Clue) where they upgraded us to a sort of suite thing. It wasn't the last word in opulence or anything, but we had several rooms, and some arms chairs, and a book with a plate about shooting tigers.
My favourite walk?
I really hate "walks". One of the great joys about being an adult is that at family gatherings when someone says "shall we go for a walk", I can say no, and no-one drags me out for the good of my health, so I can stay at home and watch TV or read a book in blissful quiet. I don't mind walking as transport so much (though for preference I will get a bus), and walking around a city to explore it is great, but walking as a pastime in itself does not appeal.
Best meal abroad?
Shortly before leaving Brussels I went to a crepes/galettes restaurant with my friend Heather, where I had the most amazing sausage and onion gallette, with tomato sauce and cheese. I was very tempted to have it again for pudding, but instead I had a crepe with salted caramel ice cream and sauce. I wish I'd had the sausages instead. That was probably the best food. For the meal as a whole, though, I pick one I had in Tblisi with Nine and Jess, where I had khinkali for the first time, tried some of Jess's brains (that she was eating), and we drank copious amounts of wine and toasted each other and every one we could think of with each drink.
Favourite city?
The one that come to mind is Amsterdam. I've only been once, earlier this year, and I didn't spend very much time there, but I thought it was beautiful, and I felt very calm and happy walking around. I enjoy being in London a lot too, though I wouldn't say calm was a factor there. Actually, I like Edinburgh a great deal, which is just as well.
Where next?
Tunisia, in September. I am currently reading guidebooks and finding all the things I would like to do. There is apparently a date museum. Oh, no, actually properly next is France, and Monaco. We're getting the ferry to Tunis from Marseille, so I'll be there for a bit, and I'm also going to pop over to Monaco for the day. I have had an intention to make a point of visiting the microstates for a while, and this will be my first. I thought I'd go since I'll be pretty close, and unlikely to be as near again without making a special effort.
After that - anywhere. I have sketched out a plan in my head of flying to Bologna, going to San Marino for a day, then to Pisa, Rome and Vatican City, and then Naples to see Pompei. I am due a holiday with
anglaisepaon.I am off to see Baconface now!
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