Amazonia and Galapagos

This the Manatee Amazon Explorer on the Napo River in the Amazonian Rain Forest, Ecuador, where we spent five days and nights journeying down the river exploring the jungle. It is a flat bottomed boat that can accommodate thirty people but there were just seven of us from the UK sharing the experiences. It may be called a rain forest but it was jungle; steaming, humid and mysterious. Life on the Manatee was gorgeous, delightful crew and delicious home cooked food with a sun deck and a barman who knew how to make cocktails. The cabins were small but perfect with air conditioning and comfy beds.

This is the view from our cabin door. Told you it was jungle.

This is a Caiman at night. To me this is a huge Crocodile though technically it's an Alligator. We were in a small motorised canoe exploring the river banks. I should tell you now that I can't swim and deep water and small boats frighten me. Keep this information in your head as I tell you all I could imagine was this large animal with big teeth and huge eyes  making one lurch towards our small canoe and tipping us over. At the same time Bats as big as seagulls were swooping past our heads scooping up the zillions of insects for their late night feast. Glow-worms lined the banks in their thousands twinkling like fairy lights.

The young man on the left was our canoe driver. I did wonder if our holiday insurance covered us for being driven in dangerous circumstances by a ten year old. Earlier in the day we went to The Piranha Lake and saw Pink River Dolphins but then invited to swim in the lake -the lake full of Piranhas. They eat you. But only if you have an open wound. So glad I had an excuse not to go in and even if I could swim I could never get into a lake full of fishes that eat you.

Ooh look. He's looking at me. Twice a day, early morning after breakfast and then after lunch we'd disembark and get in small canoes, travel to the river banks and explore with our guide, seeing monkeys, birds, tapirs, native villages. No place for glamour here as we wore heavy wellies, rubber capes and life jackets because it isn't called a rain forest for nothing and downpours and storms can roll in at any time. Hence the steaming humidity.

 By contrast this is our luxury boat, the M/V Galapagos Explorer, where we stayed for five days and nights as it cruised The Galapagos Islands. This boat accommodates one hundred passengers in luxurious cabins as big as hotel rooms. Again, twice a day we disembarked after breakfast and after lunch with experienced naturalists for shore expeditions to seek out wildlife and understand the natural history of these volcanic islands. The biggest impact walking around the islands is how the wildlife take no notice of humans as they have no fear of them. So we were able to step over Iguanas as they lay basking, get close enough to seals to gaze into their liquid eyes, exotic birds stayed where they were so we could see their beauty.

A view of the islands and a pretty beach where others snorkelled and swam in 24 degree warm sea. For those who love the water there were opportunities to swim and to snorkel every day as motorised dingies took them out into deep water. One morning as we were disembarking for our morning trip on the dingy to the shore I was standing on the deck looking down and saw a family of six reef sharks circling the dingy. Circling the dingy that I was supposed to be boarding. I couldn't do it. I couldn't climb down the steps and into the dingy, the dingy that bobs up and down, with sharks within touching distance.

 A Pelican Preening.

There Be Dragons. The Iguanas have evolved to take on the colours of their habitats as all the islands vary in foliage, lava rocks, sand so they are all different. The Iguanas on the islands that are mainly black lava rock are black and indistinguishable from their surroundings. This one lives on a sandy island and blended in with the sand and the sea.

This trip was nine air flights , international and internal, two cruises and three nights spent in two cities in Ecuador. Two nights were spent in Quito the capital of Ecuador over 9000 feet above sea level and very near an active volcano in the Andes. Such a pretty city and great to explore. One night was spent in the city of Guayaquil the main port and a delightful surprise as it has a beautiful river waterfront and many small parks with City Iguanas. They had adapted themselves to blend with the urban surroundings and had long tails of green and brown stripes and mottled bodies so as they ran up the trees in the parks they were invisible. They were more twitchy than their cousins in The Galapagos and shied away from humans - typical city life eh?

This was the most adventurous holiday I have ever experienced. I am proud that I'm not as scared as I was of small boats and deep water be it a river or the ocean. Just as well because I estimate I got on and off small canoes and dingies around thirty times.

It was good to meet lots of young people backpacking their way through South America taking Gap Years from education or in-between jobs, couples making that one last trip before they settled down to make a baby. It was good to travel with people of similar ages to us who never had the means to do such things when they were very young - like us. It was good to meet so many nationalities in the Galapagos, Finnish, Russians, Americans, Swiss; Everyone eager to seek and to see and discover the world.

A Year of Just Deserts

In February we were in the Namib Desert in Namibia. In September we were in the Sahara Desert in Tunisia. Above is a picture of the prickly pears growing around the Roman City of Dougga.

Above is a picture of chillis drying out in a cave dwelling in the troglodyte village of Matmata. People have been living in thse caves for more than two thousand years. The lady of the cave gave us sweet mint tea and her own flat bread smothered with honey and olive oil. Below is a picture of her onions drying in the baking hot sun.

Date palms protected from any rain with yellow plastic as they ripen ready for cropping in October and our Christmas 'Eat Me' boxes of dates.

Only 25% of visitors to Tunisia visit the Roman cities, Carthage, museums, medinas, Mosques, monasteries, the salt lakes and the many ancient sites.

Jack's Dinner

My youngest grandson loves food. Eating it and cooking it. He cooked these fresh mackerel, asparagus salad and crushed new potatoes for dinner this week. Jack has a natural flair for cooking and a good palate although he insists he doesn't want to be a Chef de Cuisine.

A Swan in Aswan

Half an hour after disembarking from the MS Prince Abbas after our week long cruise on Lake Nasser we were waiting with our luggage on the East Bank of the River Nile in Aswan as we watched the Pharoanic Barge make its way across the river from Elephantine Island to transport us back to our home for a further week-The Hotel Oberoi situated on this palm covered island in the middle of the Nile. Nothing had prepared us for the beauty we were about to experience. This stretch of the Nile between the city of Aswan, the Old Dam and the High Dam and Lake Nasser is scattered with islands. Ancient Aswan was originally sited on Elephantine Island as it could be easily defended against invaders from any direction. That ancient city has long disappeared and Elephantine Island can only be reached by the boats and feluccas that freely taxi visitors to and fro, day and night.

The ancient city of Aswan was once the largest trading centre for Upper Egypt exchanging goods from equatorial Africa and the Mediterranean. Aswan lies on the first cataract of the Nile which acted as a natural insurmountable barrier for river traffic as the bubbling waterfalls, rocks and torrents were impossible for boats to navigate. South of Aswan goods had to be carried by caravan across the barren Nubian Desert. However, the building of the Aswan Dam in the 1960s changed everything. Damming the Nile and diverting the Nile flood waters into the artificial Lake Nasser has now established the pretty city of Aswan as the main river port for river cruises to Luxor and on the other side of the magnificent Aswan Dam, the dock for cruises over Lake Nasser.

The Hotel Oberoi is the only hotel on the island set in beautiful gardens with swimming pools, poolside bars and restaurant and all the bedrooms with balconies trailing with hibiscus and panoramic views over the River Nile and Aswan. The most striking feature of the Hotel Oberoi is the twelve story tower that has a 360 degree view through h
uge plate glass windows where visitors can sit and have a drink or a light meal. Our first view from the top of the tower of an Aswan sunset over the West Bank of the Nile was unforgettable as the sun sank, rapidly sliding behind the desert, while on the West Bank in the City of Aswan the lights twinkled on the Mosques.

We mused as to how the name Elephantine Island came about? Looking south down the Nile from the tower we could see we were surrounded by large grey rocks and they all looked like elephants rising out of the water. Or was this romantic thinking on our part and the name Elephantine Island was because of the ancient trade in ivory from Upper Nubia-now modern Sudan? Perhaps the name is a bit of both eh?

The intention was to purely relax, read and write and laze about by the pool in this very comfortable hotel and the gorgeous sunshine but there were far too many things to see in Aswan. However, the very nature of a cruise means the visitor is almost over protected from the cut and thrust of every day life in an Egyptian city as any excursions from the ship are done in a group and with the Egyptian Tour Manager. We were soon to discover how protected we had been. Woken by the call to the Mosque at dawn and then having strong coffee sitting on our balcony and watching the sun rise over Aswan, after a delicious breakfast we caught the Pharoanic Barge across the river to the Aswan Corniche along the banks of the Nile. We had only walked a few yards along the Corniche when the hassle began. It is intolerable. Caleche drivers, taxi drivers, self appointed unofficial tour guides, Felucca boatmen and children descended upon us as if from nowhere offering us rides, discounts and artefacts. I understand the poverty in Egypt and the need to take every opportunity to earn money from the tourist but this persistent pestering has the opposite effect on me. I just want them all to go away as I will spend my money as and when I want and certainly not a
s a result of this relentless hassling.

We decided to take a Caleche ride-horse and carriage- along the busy Corniche to the famous Old Cataract Hotel, where Agatha Christie stayed, to have coffee on their illustrious terraces overlooking the Nile. I insisted we chose a Caleche with the healthiest looking horse but after just a few yards I realised the horse was tired. My heart sank when the carriage driver cheerfully told us she had just had a baby. Fortunately, the Old Cataract Hotel was only a short distance away and after the usual haggling over what was originally an agreed fare, and then the driver asking for more money to feed the horse leaving me muttering that next time I'd buy my own oats, we were sitting on the terrace admiring the beauty of the Nile. Drawn to the water we chose to take a Felucca sail boat ride back to Elephantine Island and our hotel, stopping first at an archaeological area on the Island where excavation began in 1969 to uncover the ancient settlements.

The fare was agreed with the Felucca boatman by the hour to include one hour's waiting time as we explored the archaeological area and visited the small Aswan Museum. It was so very exhilarating sailing along as the gentle breeze caught the white sails of the Felucca and we leisurely basked in the hot sunshine. The Nile was a hive of activity with boats of all shapes and sizes going about their daily business. Our boatman expertly used the wind to tack to and fro around the massive grey 'elephant' rocks that loomed out of the river like giant statues. Once again we were caught off our guard as we bought our entrance tickets. From nowhere an unofficial guide attached himself to us and wouldn't go away. We wanted to quietly walk around the excavations referring to our guide book when necessary and enjoying the peace and tranquillity as we imagined the Romans who had once lived here, imagining the Cemetery for the Sacred Rams where the blood stains co
uld still be seen and gaze at the carvings in the Temple of Khnum.

We were patient with him until he got rather excited about a carving of a Pharaoh sporting an enormous black penis. He then suggested his penis was bigger than the Pharaoh's and how did Morty's compare. That was it for me! Off with him! Nevertheless, he insisted on payment not only for his services but for his seven children. From this moment on we decided to make use of organised trips to see the rest of the delights Aswan has to offer. So! They are more expensive than doing it yourself, but at least on an organised tour with an official English speaking Egyptian guide you get the freedom to concentrate on what you wanted to see and not forever doing deals.

We were a bit 'Templed-Out' by now, as anybody who has ever been to Egypt would understand, so we chose a visit by Felucca to Kitchener's Island, also known as the 'Island of Plants' to be guided by an expert of flora, fauna and wild-life and to follow this with a motor boat trip upstream to the now peaceful First Cataract and through a wild-life sanctuary. General Kitchener was the British Consul General in Egypt in 1910 and he created this luxuriously planted island. After seeing many dusty ancient ruins, the Nubian Desert and large expanses of lake this was a delightful contrast. Kitchener planted many varieties of plants here that grow in our own gardens in the UK so it was strange to see waist high Bizzy Lizzies and huge Lupins alongside lemon and date trees.

The motor boat ride up through the First Cataract is awesome. Huge granite boulders that once caused the waters to roar over them in plumes of spray now stand exposed in the reduced waters of the Nile. The boat wove its way through these immense boulders and we saw herons, kingfishers, terns, kites and other abundant birdlife plus water buffalo and mules. It was eerily silent and the birds seemed to be putting on a show for us as
they appeared to order as if by magic for our expert guide. The final part of this tour was to spend an hour in a genuine Nubian village on the West Bank. The people of the village opened their homes for us, showed us baby crocodiles in tanks, scorpions in jars and played with snakes. They also gave us mint tea and we bought two Egyptian cotton shirts for two pounds sterling each. The Nubians are a very elegant and good looking people with a quiet charm and I felt sad that many of the older Nubians in the village would have been forced to leave their homes in the 1960s when their villages were drowned by the forming of Lake Nasser.

A must to see if ever the reader is in Aswan are the temples of Philae. The island that the temples of Philae originally stood on for three thousand years were partially flooded by the construction of the first Aswan Dam in 1902 and completely submerged by the building of the new High Dam. Consequently, the ruins were dismantled and rebuilt by UNESCO on another island one mile south of the Aswan Dam on the stretch of the Nile between the two dams. A short coach ride and we stood in the afternoon heat watching a scene of utter madness as hundreds of dilapidated old motor boats with engines that had seen better days fought for space at the quayside so they could moor up and let the many tour groups board to be taken to the Island Of Philae. By now we expected our appetite for ancient temples to have been sated but as the boat approached the temples we were very impressed with the magnificence of the obelisks and enjoyed a couple of hours quietly wandering around. Ready for our hotel room by now and a drink before dinner we still had one more visit to the granite quarry to see the unfinished obelisk. Mmmm! That's what I thought too as quarries do nothing for me so that Egyptian beer back at the hotel was calling me.

A little more to tell here about Egyptian hospitality and the Hotel Oberoi in Aswan-throughout our stay both on the ship and in the hotel we were amused at the bed-towel art that greeted us every night when we retired to our room. The room service made exotic animals and birds from white towels using rose petals and hibiscus flowers as decoration and laid them on the bed. This was apart from the very grim crocodile on our cabin floor wearing dark glasses and a wide open mouth held in position by the television remote control. It is the custom on a cruise to put money in the envelopes provided for gratuities. The last night on the ship we were greeted by towel art of a man in the bed wearing Morty's jumper, dark glasses and holding the tipping envelopes in its hands. The hotel was a little more romantic as they created graceful swans and rose-strewn hearts to surprise us every night. We were also happy that there was no need to 'dress-up' on either the ship or the hotel for the evenings. We prefer the casual approach as we are on holiday and pressure of any kind is unwanted.

Egyptian wine leaves much to be desired. The choice of red, white or rose is limited and some likened it to a chemical cleaner, but being a brave little soldier I soon adjusted my palate to the white wine and got rather fond of it. I've had worse in English pubs! The only beer available was a tinned variety of Fosters which was refreshing enough when required. There was a fridge in our room both on the boat and in the hotel so there is a choice to drink any duty-free in the room. The meals in our hotel were excellent. Buffet style but a continual stream of freshly cooked food was brought from the kitchens to the endless buffet tables. It was possible to eat European as well as more Egyptian style food and vegetarians were very well provided for. The vegetables were grown in the hotel gardens and I wanted to hug the pastry chef as the deserts were wonderful. There was a wide variety of good breads and I had cinnamon pancakes with honey and thick yoghurt with plump raisins for breakfast every morning as I never have that at home.

Not to be deterred by the hassle from the Corniche we decided to take a Caleche ride through the Souk or market. Avoiding eye contact I chose a horse drawn Caleche and made sure the horse had some meat on it and didn't look old and worn out. Better luck this time, as we ripped along the promenade at a fair pace with a comparatively happy horse and the driver took us on a tour of Aswan. It is a small city and it was good to see schools, childrens' play parks, well maintained Mosques, Coptic Churches, local shops and the general hustle and bustle of every day life. The Souk in Aswan is recognised as being the best in Egypt with quite wide streets and a huge variety of goods on sale. Emboldened by the lack of hassling we paid our driver and walked the mile or so back through the Souk to get the full atmosphere of the shops and peddlers selling their goods. So many spices, materials, fruits, leather, meat, rugs and vegetables for sale and thankfully we were left alone and no more harangued than in a typical London street-market.

Aswan is very proud of their new Nubia Museum opened in 1997, and rightly so. It is situated opposite the Old Cataract hotel and stands in its own vast gardens with water features, statues, palm trees and walkways. It is spread over several floors and displays very important objects from throughout Nubian history. As with many museums there is too much to take in on one visit alone so rather than get culture weariness we made two trips and wandered around at our leisure. I understand that the Cairo Museum is relocating and building a new museum to house its treasures. If it is half as wonderful as the Nubian Museum in Aswan then we are all in for a treat as that makes returning to Cairo a must in the future.

There were so many other places to visit in Aswan and the surrounding areas but none of them are compulsory. You don't have to be active. There are some who would prefer to take advantage of the beautiful weather and stay by the pool to swim, drink, eat, sleep, visit the gym, have beauty treatments and massage and wallow in the luxury. During the week we did a bit of both and as we flew from Aswan International Airport on our return flight to Gatwick we both agreed that this, our second visit to Egypt, was probably our best holiday yet and certainly not our last to the Land of the Pharaohs.

Balkan Food Market

We've just returned from our travels through The Baltic Countries beginning with Sweden, moving on to Finland, then Russia, Latvia, Lithuania, Estonia, Poland, Germany and finishing in Denmark. All this achieved cruising on The Clipper Adventurer, a small cruise ship with just over one hundred passengers, a wonderful crew, delicious food and The Baltic Sea and The Gulf of Finland as calm as a duck pond all of the way. I ate fresh fish every day and above is a small example of the foods sold in a local food market - but I can't remember which country we were in when I took the photos!

Most of the time I was caught up emotionally with the people in Latvia, Lithuania and Estonia as the local guides proudly showed us their towns and cities and talked gently of The Troubled Times leading up to 1991 and their eventual freedom. Freedom from the Nazis to the left of them and the Russians to the right of them. Centuries of occupation, invasion and they are at last free. I kept imagining if this had been us here in the UK and simply how lucky we all are as no matter how we feel about our governments we have no idea how it was for the people of these countries. They are rebuilding their beautiful cities and they welcome visitors like us with great charm and speak our language perfectly.

We were in Finland and a pompous Git in our very privileged group asked the Finnish guide if they 'had a lot of trouble from the Eastern Europeans coming into their country and taking their jobs' I held my breath waiting for her reply and she answered

'We have many Estonians coming here to work and they are excellent carpenters so when they arrive they start up their own carpentry businesses and are a great asset to us and our economy'

That shut him up.

Summer Moules

Lovely dish of mussels and the fattest chips and mayo eaten sitting in the afternoon sunshine in The Bull Hotel courtyard. Although next time I order them I'll ask for them cooked with no cream. I prefer them Mariniere -simply white wine, garlic and parsley so I can drink the liquer like a soup and dunk my bread. I was left with a bowl of cream - undrinkable.

High Peak Food

I had these scallops in a local Dorset eating place. They were horrid. Smelt fishy, not in a good way, and had been microwaved to the point where the edges had gone hard and crusty.

The scallops below were eaten in another local hostelry, very small and shrivelled, and I had no leaves or bread to mop up the garlic butter so I had to ask for some. 

 
We were in The High Peak this weekend. So of course we ate a lot. The above is yet another variation on the ubiquitous scallop. These were some of the best I've eaten lately, resting on some very lush, moist black pudding. I'm giving up on scallops until an imaginitive chef comes up with something new. How about deep fried in a tempura batter? Why not?

These two photos are of our Roast Sunday Lunch in The Fallow Deer in Chapel en-le-Frith, Derbyshire. Yes-two massive Yorkshire Puddings. That's gravy in the brown jug. The vegetables were fresh and lightly steamed, the roast beef was good. This plate of food is far more hearty than most Sunday lunches where I live and only cost £7.95. Locally some places charge almost twice that. Of course we couldn't eat both Yorkies but most plates were going back to the kitchen empty so plenty of diners managed to eat them. Or maybe they gave them to a friend.

On cooking. With all these baby leaves being presented as a garnish on many dishes and they are so very small why not go back to mustard and cress?

Trains and Boats and Planes

We've just returned from our wonderful journey travelling through Namibia. Three thousand miles, not including the Virgin Flight from Heathrow and back, on planes and boats and trains and of course a coach. Namibia is a huge country, the size of Germany and France joined together and a population of around two million people. So I thought I'd begin with the obvious. Me in the Namib desert watching several very fit Safari Guides getting all the doings out of their 4x4 to set up a table on top of a sand dune ready to serve us very large Gin and Tonics in icy cold pewter goblets and a buffet as we watched the magnificent sunset over the beautiful desert.

It has to be food first. Mostly we ate animals we'd seen in the bush but this meal was all fish. We stayed overnight in Luderitz at the Nest Hotel on Namibia's Atlantic coast, named The Skeleton Coast because as the storms blew ships onto the rocks and the sailors thought they'd reached safety on land, they soon discovered there was nothing but desert ahead of them and they died in the intense heat and starved of water. Their skeletons are still being found.


The above is a mixed seafood main course for one person. If we'd known how huge it was going to be we'd have ordered two between the four of us and not one each.

We stayed in five star hotels, desert lodges, bush rest camps and I sat on a scorpion. We journeyed for four days through the desert on The Namibian Desert Express Train. It never went faster than forty miles an hour. The bathrooms were very tiny. I was horrified when I sat on the lavvy and discovered a full length mirror facing me on the closed door. It was almost touching my nose so I multi-tasked and plucked my eyebrows at the same time.

Namibia is a brilliant destination. More to come.

How To Cook The Perfect Christmas Dinner!

How To Cook The Perfect Christmas Dinner!

1. Don’t.
2. If you have to, remain sober.
3. Not sober? Don’t be over ambitious.
4. Check size of turkey in relation to size of your oven.
5. Only invite guests that drink too, then they won’t notice the state you’re in.
6. Lower the lights so they can’t see the cat’s hairs in the first course.
7. Pour plenty of wine in the gravy to camouflage alien flavours.
8. Try to eat something yourself to soak up the alcohol intake in your blood.
9. Wear waterproof mascara for the inevitable moment when you cry/sweat.
10. Don’t ever get talked into doing it again.

My then still comparatively new man is assuming that because I ran a restaurant I could cook, and on the strength of this invited six good friends to Christmas day lunch. My cottage is small, and my kitchen is a galley.

They, including man looking smug and proud, are sitting round the dining table in the glow of myrrh-scented candles (No: 6). Their glasses are permanently being topped up, and they are feeding from a large oval dish of crudités and dips while I cook the first course. I have a very large copper pan full of mixed seafood being sautéed in butter, olive oil, garlic and herbs for the Italian style ‘Frito Misto’ I am ambitiously preparing. (No: 3) I give the heavy pan a chef like swirl over the heat, and amazingly, the entire contents of prawns, scallops, mussels and squid, take on a life of their own, and spiral into the air, hang suspended and dump themselves over the kitchen floor and into the cat’s dish!

I look furtively at my guests from the open plan galley. They’re laughing, drinking (No: 5) and talking merrily! Haven’t apparently seen a thing! I scoop everything up, from under the edge of fridges, washing machine and yes, the cat’s dish and throw it back into the pan, add fresh lemon juice, more black pepper, pray and serve it up in a large dish
for them to shell and pick at and dunk their crusty bread into the hot, garlic butter. I am saved. I sit and join in, but I can’t bring myself to eat (No: 8), so partake of a little more wine. (No: 2)

My oven is too small to take a turkey adequate enough for eight diners (No: 4). I am cooking three plump whole boned turkey breasts. They have been roasted, basted in butter and ready to ‘rest’ out of the oven to continue cooking in their own heat, while I make my gravy. I like gravy. I like rich, slightly thickened gravy, not much of a ‘jus’ person.

The saucepan has all the delicious roasting juices from the turkey breasts and I’m whisking in my flour, making a roux. I gently add my homemade chicken stock, stirring continually, watching it satisfyingly thicken. I reach over for my old fashioned Gravy Browning, pour, and stare in disbelief at the Fairy Liquid bottle in my left hand and the green globule slowly dissolving into my pan full of rich gravy! I panic! I slurp! I honestly think for one moment I am able to scoop the offending green Fairy Liquid out of the pan with a slotted spoon, add lashings of wine and get away with it! (No: 7)

I tip the gravy down the sink. I look at the residue in the roasting pan where the breasts are resting, but I’ve used it all. I have to resort to a chicken stock cube, cornflour and this time, the Gravy Browning, and not the Fairy. I am dripping, with perspiration and with tears. (No: 9)

My guests are having a deliriously happy time. I’m glad somebody is. I’m the hostess and I’m not! I serve up. Roast potatoes the Delia way; Crispy chipolatas and bacon; Baby Carrots caramelised with fresh grated ginger; Sprouts and roast chestnuts; Roast parsnips with Cinnamon; Moist Fruit stuffing; Carved Turkey breast and disgusting wishy washy gravy….

The compliments flow, the wine flows, the conversation gets more outrageous, my galley
kitchen is a tip, but I know the cheese course will be trouble free, and we have home-made Christmas Pudding Ice-Cream, Syllabub and fresh fruits and nuts to follow.

I manage the coffee and fudge without serious accidents, and feel my job is done, so sit back with an impressive looking Brandy Bottle in front of me, my special glass, my roll up tin and eventually join in the fun.

My company were blissfully unaware of all the ghastly happenings in my galley, of which I’m glad. I made man promise NEVER to invite friends for Christmas again, bearing in mind, the only time he goes into the galley is to visit the fridge for a beer……………

To summarise: This leaves points one and ten! I mean it, it’s just another roast dinner, well, that’s what we’re told. They’re lying! It’s a monumental task, hard, stressful, fraught, expensive, over lavish, unnecessary, somebody’s always drunk, either the guests, the host, or in my case, both.

This year, twenty of us are all contributing in our local by preparing and bringing all the vegetables, deserts, first courses, nibbles and a French Run for the booze, and our landlady is cooking the geese, ducks, turkey and beef and leaving us to run riot in the comfort of her lovely Inn.

My Favourites

My favourite things this Christmas are the drawing above given to me by my thirteen year old Grandson. I love this because it shows that he knows me so well, demonstrates his sense of humour and he took the time out to draw me such a personal gift. I shall always treasure it.

The above Pavlova was also made by the same Grandson following Nigella's recipe. It looked wonderful with a crispy outside and the soft marshmallowy centre and tasted delicious. We ate this on Christmas Day instead of Christmas Pudding. He also took control of the Carving of The Turkey by following Jamie's advice to rest the turkey for an hour after cooking and then the magic bit - removing both breasts and carving them longways and serving rather than slicing. It worked a treat.

A talented young man. Me - biased? Of course I am.

Tsars In Their Eyes

I’m writing this with a large shot of Russian Lemon Vodka and a dish of salted pretzels by my side as I relive my experience of our ten day trip to discover Russia by river. After two days spent on board in St Petersburg our river cruise was to take to Moscow for two days. The distance between the two cities by water is 1400 kilometre (840 mile) made up of rivers, lakes, reservoirs and canals. We were to travel on a German boat carrying 260 passengers, hence the 231 fellow Germans on board and 29 passengers from the UK, including myself and Morty. The summers in Russia are hot and sometimes humid, the winters are famously cold, but we were travelling in the first week of September, the Russian autumn, before the snow falls begin, usually in October.

How would we view the Russia we were to see after the collapse of the Soviet Union in the early 1990s? How have the Russian people dealt with this freedom of speech, freedom of religion, freedom of trade? How has a country ruled by the Tsars until the 1917 Revolution and then ruled by strong Communist regimes led by such as Lenin and Stalin managed these extreme changes? We were about to gain a little more knowledge and understanding about the Russia of the past and the present on our brief but illuminating journey through a relatively small area of this vast country.

I need a sip of vodka here when I recall the very old Aeroflot aircraft that was to fly us from Gatwick to St Petersburg. I promise you the tyres were bald! However the scheduled economy flight was comfortable arriving after less than four hours at St Petersburg, and once through immigration then transported by coach to St Petersburg’s River Port on the river Neva, where we were soon happily unpacking our gear and ready to explore. Now then, we’re not Group Tour kinda people but, mainly because of my cowardice going to seemingly dangerous destinations, we opted for the organised City tour of St Petersburg, once Petrograd, then Leningrad and now St Petersburg once more.

Peter the Great built the city of St Petersburg 300 years ago as a port for his navy and as a major trade route to Russia’s inland waterways. As with many of the beautiful buildings and colossal engineering achievements we were to see in Russia they were built using forced labour with a huge cost to human lives. This beautiful city was built on marshland so amazingly it consists of 42 separate islands connected by 70 canals and rivers all to be crossed by around 300 bridges. Does an image of Amsterdam and Venice enter your imaginations? We had just two days before we sailed so do I need to tell you how little we were able to see of the 200 palaces, the 50 museums, the 20 theatres, 60 stadiums and 4500 libraries. We benefited from the fact that the city smartened itself up for it’s 300th anniversary in May of this year as royalty and world leaders flocked here to pay homage so all the buildings in the city centre and along the Neva were freshly painted and all the onion domes were freshly gold leafed.

The Hermitage museum was top of our list for our second day but having read that to spend a few moments looking at each item would take nine years we felt slightly fazed. We managed a few hours and with spinning heads saw more art by Picasso, Matisse, Renoir, Gauguin and Monet than I have seen in my life as well as the bejewelled state rooms that were once the Home of Tsar Peter and Catherine the Great.

Later, we broke away from our group to wander about on our own. We strolled down Nevsky Prospekt, the main street where the rich Russians rub shoulders with the poor Russians as this wide street is full of fashionable shops, souvenir pedlars, artists and smart restaurants and the homeless. We sat in a pavement Bistro (Russian for fast-service) by an ornate canal with a view of a church called Church of the Spilled Blood where Alexander 11 was assassinated in 1881, and ate a late lunch of Chic ken Kiev and drank Russian beer.

Tired on this our first day, we took a half hour taxi ride back to the River Port and our boat. The St Petersburg river port is in a very down at heel area, in stark contrast to the dripping wealth in the city centre. Grim high rise blocks of neglected flats, pot holes in the roads and pavements, broken windows, unkempt small parks, beggars, drunks, lots of broken down cars and yet there were lively street kiosks with entrepreneurs selling everything from root vegetables to tobacco and CDs. We know we have to return to St Petersburg for a city break as our appetite is whetted, staying in one of the many luxurious hotels being built and armed with a city dedicated guide book, to do this fairy tale city justice.


The young women of St Petersburg are extraordinarily beautiful, slender and dress in the height of fashion. It was no surprise when reading the English printed edition of the St Petersburg Times to see four full pages of personal adverts from Russian women looking for Western husbands, an equal amount of adverts from Russian Marriage Agencies plus personal adverts from Western men searching for Russian brides. Considering the average wage for a surgeon, a university lecturer or a cleaner is $30 a week then it begins to make economic sense for the Russian women and a different kind of sense for the Western male. Need I say more?

Another surprise was the currency issue. Aware that roubles are unobtainable in the UK the bank advised us to take currency in the form of US Dollars- not traveller’s cheques or sterling. Imagine our surprise when we saw everything from the most expensive boutiques to remote villages on the inland river banks pricing their goods equally in US dollars and Euros with Roubles a very poor third. On the boat itself when we paid a bar bill with US Dollars we were given any change in Euros. Consequently, the $150 we innocently changed to Roubles at an expensive percentage on our arrival became even more expensive when we couldn’t spend them and had to change them back to US Dollars on our departure from Moscow airport at an even more exorbitant percentage. If we’d just taken Euros at least we could have returned to the UK with some convenient money to spend on our next European holiday!

The overland distance to Moscow from St Petersburg is 650 Kilometres. The river route is 1400 kilometres, so were to sail on ten separate waterways to include Europe’s largest lake, its longest river and the world’s longest man-made canal. This waterway journey was to take us five days and we had schedules stops along the way. What did we see of another kind of Russia?

It was a new experience for us as we left St Petersburg and sailed along the river Neva in the early evening only to wake in the early morning to discover were on Lake Lagoda, Europe’s largest lake. We knew it was large because we couldn’t see land to the front, to the rear or either side of us so it seemed like we were on an ocean! This confirmed for me that I never want to do an ocean cruise as I so missed the interest of the river banks, the woodlands, villages, forests and the comfort that land wasn’t very far away. Historically Lake Lagoda is known for its vital role during the 900 day Siege of Leningrad from the German blockade of 1941-1944 when vital supplies were carried across it, even when frozen solid, to the starving population as they held out against invasion. Sadly, we were warned not to drink any tap water in St Petersburg as Lake Lagoda is close to death with pollution from phosphate pollution due to lake side industry and this is where St Petersburg gets it main water supply.

Therefore it was enchanting to eat breakfast on the boat as we sailed into the beautiful River Svir the river that links Lake Lagoda to Lake Onega over a distance of 137 miles. The Svir is landscaped on both bank s by beautiful pine and fir forests with plenty of activity as we saw lumbering, log piles and men working on timber rafts. We were beginning to take to this cruising lark, sitting on the sun deck, sipping Lemon Vodka and espresso coffees. In no time at all we were sailing into Lake Onega, a lake complete with 1300 islands, surrounded by forests and we were to stop and visit one of these islands in the north of the lake (linked to the Arctic by the White Sea canal built by Stalin using forced labour) to Kizhi Island renowned for its miraculous wooden churches and a reconstructed 18th Century village. Our local guide was a little too beatific as she fervently described the meanings of the many religious icons in the churches and her halo was hurting my eyes!

Yet more icons when we stopped south of the White Lake at Goritsy for a tour of a 15th Century monastery. Goritsy is isolated yet, in readiness for future tourism, building luxury hotels and a tourism centre. Perhaps if we returned there in ten years time we may well find it completely unrecognisable as the West catches on to what could be a major resort with fishing, water sports, wildlife and a monastic retreat?


Since the fall of Communism, Russians are now free to worship again. Apparently the number of Russians returning to the Orthodox Church is extremely large. However, there is also a movement to bring back the Tsars and others who are discontented with the progress being made under the move to democracy who wants to see the return to Communism. Isn’t the Church a hard disciplined ruler? Weren’t the Tsars hard selfish rulers with no thought for their subjects? And as for Communism?

Our next waterway was the Volga Baltic canal which begins by linking Lake Onega and the River Kovya and runs for 229 miles. This was so exciting as we were lifted by remarkable locks by as much as 370 feet and dropped again sailing through yet more splendid scenery then entered the
legendary White lake, known as the Tsars Fishing Ground as government boats sailed around taxing the fisherman but not those from the monasteries as Tsars knew better than to tax God!

This gets personal now so another sip of Lemon Vodka. My grandfather was born in Russia and I have the name of his village but no amount of web research could locate it. Rybinsk Reservoir was formed by Stalin damming the Volga in 1941. In order to do this Stalin failed to inform the 700 villages and their occupants of his plans and they were given days to collect their belongings and find alternative accommodation. Wouldn’t you possibly have wondered if this was where your Granddads village may have been? Drowned in true Stalinist style? Even worse for me was that Stalin used educated political Gulag prisoners as construction workers who died at the average of one hundred a day. Suddenly I felt like a spoilt Westerner and could feel the sadness and death all around me as I viewed this feat of engineering.

The complicated network of man-made canals and rivers link the River Volga to all five of Russia’s major seas and flows about eighty miles from Moscow itself so its linked by the Moscow Canal. Again, beautiful to sail along and experiencing another series of lifting by several locks but once more built during the 1930s by Stalinist methods using Gulag prisoners who dug the canal out shovel by shovel. But I mustn’t dwell on this. We had one more stop, until we arrived at Moscow’s Northern River Passenger dock, at the town of Uglich. This industrial town has a small Kremlin, or fortress, preparing us for Moscow, and another church complete with icons where we heard the ethereal singing of a Russian choir. Morty succumbed to a famous Chaika watch made in the factory in Uglich. These are mechanical watches and our guide book advised us to buy one from a market stall as this was more likely to have been made from stolen parts and more reliable than those mad
e in the factory itself. For six pounds it’s still ticking! Animal lovers don’t read this as I bought a divine sable hat and I can’t wait for our winter ice and snow and for people to sing Lara’s Theme to me. My sable hat, when worn with my Russian Baltic amber pendant, makes me feel like A Russian Princess.

The Moscow River Port is about a half an hours drive into the city centre and smarter than St Petersburg dock, so once we’d moored up and knowing we only had two days to see the city we chose the group City Tour. At least this tour took us around the main attractions and trust me, you wouldn’t want to drive yourself. There are six lanes in and out of the city and it is chaos. The other benefit of group tours is avoiding the queues as group tickets makes admission to museums and major sites hassle free. A serious warning about pick pockets as this applies in any major city. Once again, how could this visit give us a chance to contemplate the 2500 historical and architectural monuments, 70 museums, 125 cinemas, 50 theatres, 4500 libraries, universities as well as the obvious such as the Kremlin and Red Square? The Kremlin was a stunning array of palaces, minarets, domes, battlements and towers in every shape and colour. I preferred standing outside the Kremlin rather than enter the Cathedrals and churches as by this time we were both Iconned-out but were more than happy to visit the State Armoury Chamber which was full of the wealth of the Tsars in the form of chalices, Faberge eggs, jewellery and thrones dripping with diamonds-no wonder there was a revolution!

The cobbled Red Square was as impressive as we expected, so impressive that we paid a second visit by night to see it illuminated, though Morty wanted to visit Lenin’s Tomb but sadly it was closed, and we saw the multi-coloured onion domed St Basil’s Cathedral which symbolises Russia -better than the postcards! We did stroll round GUM, Russia’s largest shopping centre. GUM is
like a palace in itself with fountains, waterways, and glass roof, selling the most expensive International designer labels I’ve ever seen under one roof, in contrast to the empty shelves in Soviet times.


I wonder who are buying the luxurious million dollar apartments springing up throughout the city considering the average wage. I have never seen so many casinos in one street as I did driving through Moscow. Who are the people driving the Ferraris and the Lamborghinis? Are they UK football club owners?

Limited time meant we had to make a choice between using the famous Metro at night or the Bolshoi ballet. In fact, we have vowed to return to Moscow as well for a City Break, stay in the centre and take in more. After all, we didn’t even manage a visit to Gorky Park! The Metro, by night to avoid the commuters, was an eye opener. One token buys unlimited distance within the network. The trains travel at over 80mph and there is one arriving every 55 seconds. The doors remain open for exactly one minute for boarding and getting off with an automatic announcement saying they are closing-and then they do. I was scared stiff in case I didn’t get off in time! Of course it is the beauty of the stations that enthral. They are like palaces and museums with chandeliers, mosaics, original art, stained glass, statues and sculptures and they are all different as we discovered as we got on and off at different stations.

Our ten day visit was over and in contrast to the rickety old Aeroflot plane we arrived in our return flight to Heathrow was in a very modern Aeroflot airbus with halfway decent in-flight food and not a bald tyre in sight.

Did we enjoy Russia? Do we recommend you to visit? Yes, whatever way you choose, be it a City Break to St Petersburg or Moscow or a leisurely cruise with a city break at each end you won’t be disappointed -I promise.

All Fur Coat and No Knickers

I'm in a quandry when it comes to judging restaurant food these days. There was nothing wrong with the above first course of pigeon breast on a cauliflower puree. But it had no substance - All Fur Coat and No Knickers. As if some cooks these days think a big plate, a miniscule portion and an arty farty bit of garnish pass for great cooking.


There was nothing wrong with the above deep fried prawns, a fig chutney and dressed leaves. It tasted good but somehow uninspiring. Somehow not honest.


The above side order of Triple Cooked Chips were fantastic. I would have liked three times as many chips and a bowl of mayo as a main course and nothing else.

I know what it is. On almost every plate of food this cook places in front of the diner the various components of the dish Do Not Touch Each Other. Like they've had a row or have a contagious illness. They never meet, never blend, touch either on the plate or in the mouth. This is perfect food cooked without love.

And I would like to meet the chef who introduced the paintbrush to the kitchen. You know - when the chef puts a puree on a big plate and drags the paintbrush through it. I would like to meet the chef who ever first did this and then I would like to smack him.

The Riverside

We've been eating at The Riverside At West Bay since the 1970s when it looked like this.

It looks like this now. The food has changed, under the same ownership, as much as the building has. The first picture is my starter of fresh king scallops. Perfectly cooked and presented.

My main course was Catch of the Day served with a lovely soupy, garlicky sauce. I ate it all and then used my spoon and good bread to wipe my plate clean.

I couldn't decide on the desert so I had a medley as in the above photograph. Service was friendly and relaxed and the view overlooking Lyme Bay added to the eating experience.

At the end of the evening Arthur Watson, the owner, asked if we had enjoyed our evening. I was emboldened with good food and good wine and suggested to him that he would have been far better as a presenter of seafood on the television than Rick Stein and Arthur replied 'Maybe, but I am ten years older than he is'.

But you are better looking, have a far more interesting voice and wittier than he is. Shame the TV Celebrity Chef thing just missed you Arthur. I loved what Floyd said about Chefs. That we all misunderstand the language. If we cook in a kitchen we are a cook. If we run a Restaurant kitchen, then we are a Chef de Cuisine. Although I believe the popular phrase now is Executive Chef.

I was married to a Chef and we once holidayed in Brittany and ate every evening for a week in a small family restaurant with three generations running the kitchen and front of house. The food was historic and on our last evening I approached the Grandmother who kept a watchful eye on everything, and told her in my basic French that my husband was a Chef.

'Chef de que?' she asked.

'Chef de Cuisine' I replied.

Floyd was right wasn't he?