Hot or What? – Northern Spain

Our first impression of North Spain was it felt an awful lot like Wales (mountains, beaches and lush greenery) but with heat. Our favourite patch was the Asturias, between Ribadesella and Llanes, about an hour’s drive west of Santander. Our last visit was made memorable by the wildlife – we saw a scorpion and a tarantula. At least, I think it was, but it could have been a very large, extremely hairy arachnid – anything bigger than a money spider is monstrous as far as Jo’s concerned.

Llanes

I have great memories of this villa (bottom left above) with the cute balcony, particularly lying on the grass watching the stars – the almost total lack of light pollution meant we saw way more stars than we ever do over here. Like a hundred times more. And I couldn’t get over the idea of having mountains on one side of the road and beaches on the other. I remember jogging up to the top of the ridge behind the villa and finding a huge, Dolmen-sized rock, which became my daily route. And you could see it from the road. The bottom right piccy above was one Jo used as a basis for one of her art GCSE pieces. It now hangs in our bedroom – proud mum or what?

Beach of Caves (Playa de Cuevas del Mar)

About a dozen miles west of Llanes, we returned here day after day, year after year. Apart from exploring the caves, which was a big draw, it had one of the safest coves, deep enough to swim in (when the tide was in), but shallow enough that even Stephie (who was only 4) could paddle safely without fear of the crashing waves. Being me, a favourite challenge was to swim through the gap in the rocks, which I did many times. Only once did I get caught – the tide was going out rapidly and a bunch of local lads were daring each other to attempt it, but they were all too scared. With my “I’ll show you English courage” head on, I stalked past them and swam through. It was a tad choppy, and when I emerged, both knees were bleeding from being dashed against the rocks. Still have the scars today, but in retrospect, there’s nothing funny or clever about a 40-yr-old woman dripping blood all over the beach.

The Picos Mountains (Parque Nacional de los Picos de Europa)
The Picos de Europa National Park is a stunning limestone mountain range in northern Spain, spanning Asturias, Cantabria, and León, known for dramatic peaks, deep gorges, rich biodiversity, and historic villages. Wildlife includes the Cantabrian chamois (mountain goat), brown bear, Iberian wolf, bearded vulture and golden eagle. We took a cable car (Funicular) up to Fuente Dé where we took a short stroll amid the relentlessly grey rocks.
I suspect this may have been what started Steph’s love of mountains – she’s scaled Cadair Idris in Wales many times and I’m sure the rockies were one of the main reasons for her moving to Canada.


A salutary tale of bad prawns, a dog and a cow skull.
In 2000, we hired a villa in Collera, just outside Ribadesella, and it was all looking good until we had a meal in a restaurant on the first day. It was quite posh, and they welcomed us with a complementary dish of prawns. The kids didn’t fancy any, so Bri and I polished them off. I can’t remember what else we ate, but by the time we left, I was chucking it up in the street outside. Bri got sick the following day, but when we tried to get out to buy some medicine, the trusty Volvo refused to start. For three whole days, we couldn’t keep any food down and had no way of contacting the RAC – mobile phones had not yet entered our psyche. Although only 11, 10 and 7, the kids managed to look after themselves because we had no chance of doing anything approaching that, as we existed on chicken noodle soup and they munched through whatever we’d bought on the first day. They had a lot of fun with the neighbour’s huge black hound called Nello, whose favourite plaything was a massive cow’s skull.
It all came good in the end – we managed to borrow a neighbour’s phone, get the car fixed and drive into town to get some Imodium and supplies. Thankfully, the car managed to hold it together all the way back to Coventry. However that October, in the Loire valley it threw another wobble and the headlights went so we couldn’t eat out in the evenings. By the next year, Bri bought his first Landrover Discovery, complete with a DVD player so the kids could watch movies on the long journeys. We thought it was so-oo space-age.

Hot or What? - Southern France

So many of our holidays began on Brittany ferries, and we spent many a happy hour playing cards in the Commodore Lounge, having sussed early on what a different experience you could have by paying a little extra. I love this first photo, showing how protective Chris was of Jo.

Lake District
The one and only time we stayed in Limousin (somewhere between Limoges and Clermont-Ferrand if memory serves), I remember it being perpetually muggy and close. Although totally land-locked, we did visit the beach of a huge lake and hired pedalos.

Atlantic Coast
1991 saw us near Biarritz, and my enduring memory is of the sand dunes at Arcachon.
One of our first holidays with a pool was somewhat further north near Royan in 1992 with 2-year-old Jo looking cute as a button, and a handsome Chris shortly before his 4th birthday.

Mediterranean Coast
In 1993, 4 & 5, we took the 24-hour ferry cruise to North Spain (Santander), then took a few days to travel across to a gite in the region of Var, spending a week there before driving up to Paris (in a day) to stay in a Disneyland hotel and visit the park.
We have several videos of Jo singing "Look at this stuff," from the Little Mermaid, and the crocodile was an essential pool/beach toy.
The gite in Flayosc was memorable for Stephie's first steps, and the bottom right photo is hanging up in our hall - one of my favourites ever.

Lourdes
This place was something else - we found a cool hotel with a family room for all five of us and a balcony overlooking the town, which although choc-a-block full of tacky souvenir shops, had a certain charm. At least once we visited the Sanctuary of Our Lady of Lourdes, staying for a mass and doing the whole tourist bit of queueing to walk past the grotto.
But the take home for me was the amazing water - each time we brought more containers. Over five years later, we found a bottle buried in the spare wheel compartment, and the water was still as cool and clear as when we collected it. Truly magical!

Al-fresco dining
One of the joys of self-catering holidays was siting down to dinner in the outside dining area provided by almost all of the French Gites and Spanish Villas. We would go to town with exotic meals and we have many photos of us sitting down to lavish meals.
Another Gray custom was wherever we stayed we’d have a bowl of fresh fruit – quite often purloined from the one provided in the commodore cabin.

Hot or What? - Mid-France

Loire Valley

We spent many October half-terms in gites in the Loire valley when the kids were growing up, and it's the place I hanker after most when our ability to travel is restricted. Unfortunately, I didn't keep detailed records of all the places we visited, but a quick tot up says there were at least a dozen, one of which was in the grounds of a small Chateau. I have vivid memories of many fabulous holiday homes with exposed beams, log fires, and semi-wild gardens. I would always find a circuit for a daily jog of at least a couple of miles, and quite often there was a local farm shop where we could buy fresh eggs, milk and cheese to accompany our favourite dish: tarte aux champignons.

We must have visited over a dozen chateaux, including the ones which feature in many of the top lists, i.e. Chenonceau, Chambord, Azay-le-Rideau, Villandry and Ussé. Saumur Gets a special mention, because it's twinned with Warwick, where I spent a decade in a house whose garden backed on to the castle grounds. One of the most memorable sheets was in a small town called Pallau-sur-indre, and we booked the same place in 2007 and 8. In particular, at the bottom of the garden was a small cave, which linked up with a network of caves which ram underneath the castle. The first time we went we were not really equipped to explore too far, so on the second time we made sure we had powerful torches. Despite the numbers painted on the walls in various different colours, it was extremely Easy to get lost and the girls stayed outside, anxiously waiting for us to return.

The most recent trip was October 2019, staying just outside Angers, where we celebrated my 60th birthday: We visited the Caves Grenelle at Saumur for a wonderful guided tour and wine sampling. The moment we parked the car, the heavens opened with torrential rain oh biblical proportions bouncing off the courtyard so we were soaked by the time we reached the lobby. However by the time we had to go outside, it had stopped. We were so impressed, we bought home two cases of their wines, including several sparkling reds. Now we're able to travel again this is my first destination to stock up on some more.

Green Venice
Many of the villages we've stayed, particularly in France, are situated on a river. Bri’s always had a fascination with boats and has piloted every type you can imagine from pedalos & punts to swanky speed boats. So in 1998, when we stayed near la Rochelle, we had several trips out in boats, as you can see from the pix. The top left shows one of the daily practices which soon became a tradition - a stroll to the boulangerie for the daily baguette.


Oradour-sur-Glane

I have mixed feelings about recommending this place, it's possibly one of the most harrowing experiences, and the atmosphere hits you as soon as you step out of the car. In a cruel and heartless retribution, four days after D-day, a 200-strong panzer division rounded up all the women and children in this village in the church, and all the men in barns and sheds. The soldiers set fire to every single building in the place, and those attempting to escape were machine-gunned.
The entire village has been preserved as a monument to the 642 people who died - definitely not for the faint hearted. Most moving for me was the lone vehicle believed to be the doctor’s car. He had arrived back in Oradour from visiting a patient whilst the round-up of the villagers was taking place. He parked his car and joined his father, the mayor, in waiting to see what was going to happen. This view is one of the best known of all the images of Oradour, symbolising as it does, a frozen instant of time.

Hot or What? – Northern France

Brittany

My first experience of France, was a family trip to Brittany in summer after finishing my a levels. Grateful to discover I had reasonably good sea legs on the ferry, I joined in with fascination as we discovered warm seas, stunning sights and scrummy crepes. I was particularly taken with the fortified island in Concarneau and the standing stones at Carnac. One of my takeaways, however, involved a British couple on the ferry home who declared their loathing of the French pancakes, calling them creepies. Nowt as queer as folk!

So with a toddler and a six-month-old, hubby and I ventured back to Brittany, staying in a fabulous gite with a pool table, which we returned to one year later. We were truly bitten by the explorer bug, but one of our excursions, seeking a place known as Merlin's Tomb in Paimpont forest, our trusty Volvo ended up in a ditch. Both being engineers, we returned To the site and borrowed enough logs (conveniently lying around), to lift the tyre out of a ditch. On returning them, we gave copious thanks to Merlin - it truly was a magical experience.


Normandy

We enjoyed our first trip, in October 2000, so much, we returned three more times in that decade. We also popped over to Caen in November 2017 for my daughter's birthday - she was working in Paris at the time. The big pulls for us were the Bayeux tapestry, the Normandy landing beaches, and the jewel in the crown: the Mont St Michel. There’s something truly magical about the narrow, cobbled streets which wend their way around the island up to the abbey of Saint Michael at the summit. It seems every square inch of the island is devoted to tourism, with wall-to-wall hotels, restaurants, cafes and souvenir shops. We returned there several times, the most recent included a two-night stay in La Mere Poulard to celebrate my 60th birthday.

That visit coincided with the 80th anniversary of the start WWII, so there were a stack of related events, around the patch.

The previous year (2018) was the 100th anniversary of end WWI, so I organised a trip for Dad and I to visit a bunch of salient sites, including a trip following the Somme for dozens of miles. We toured several war memorials and museums, including the Wellington tunnels at Arras – well worth a visit.

But even more memorable for me were the tunnels at Bouzincourt – we were lucky to get a private viewing and, without all the safety features, it was much closer to the experience the men would have had.

Hot or what? – My Greek Love Affair

In light of the recent UK heatwave – rarer on a bank holiday than unicorn droppings, let alone hen’s teeth – I thought I’d revisit some of our awesome holiday destinations. Any excuse to look through the holiday pix. As it happens, I’m currently having great fun remembering some of the fabulous experiences on Greek islands, many of which my characters get to share. Well they do say write about what you know about! Some of them feature in Helen’s Hazard, and yet more are in Janet’s Jeopardy, the 5th in the Calamity Chicks series, the one I’m writing right now. At least I will be as soon as I finish this post.

The first holiday with my wonderful hubby was in September 1985 on the fabulous island of Rodos (Rhodes), when we stayed in a wonderful, traffic-free village, Lindos. This made a huge impression on me, in particular the establishment, “Lindos by Night,” a fabulous bar set on four floor with phenomenal views over the village and especially the acropolis. With it being our first foreign holiday, we hadn’t hired a car, and Bri hadn’t taken his driver’s licence, so the most we could hire on my provisional licence was a motorbike. Thankfully, he was an experienced rider, and we explored a few nearby villages, to add to the couple of coach tours we’d taken. The most memorable being the valley of the butterflies (Petaloudes), where we walked along the serene paths, surrounded by waterfalls, streams, and the gentle murmur of water.

May 1986 Plakias, Kriti (Crete)
We definitely upped our game this time, hiring a car to tour the largest of the greek islands. Being us, we liked to explore well off the beaten track and one of my strongest memories was of going indigenous in a tiny restaurant up in the hills. Although the sign said it was a taverna, but we felt like we'd stepped into someone's dining room. The hostess didn't speak a word of English, so she took us into the back kitchen and showed us a couple of pans bubbling on the sove - what looked like a beef stew and rice. Except the rice turned out to be soggy, oily pasta. Unfortunately, I made the mistake of complimenting the food in my limited Greek, and she was so pleased she brought out a tin of what looked like bakewell tartlets. Unfortunate because the one I chose had several parches of blue green mould. But I couldn't exactly refuse it after her generosity. And like the specks of mould on bread, it did me no harm. The best takeaway was the off-the-cuff proposal, and for some crazy reason we set the date for 27th September - a mere six months hence.

Sept 1986 Sidari, Kerkira (Corfu)
The first day we arrived, there had been a thunderstorm which knocked out all the power and water in the accommodation. Which turned out to be a long stone building split into rooms by flimsy partitions which didn't reach all the way to the floor. Not exactly the level of privacy you'd want for a honeymoon. Thankfully, the pservices were back on by the second day and the people next to us left the day after that.
The top couple of pix show the famous "Canal D'Amour" in Sidari (the tiny northern village we stayed in. Legend had it that if a maiden swam through there, she would find the man of her dreams. Nowadays, they say if a couple swim through it together, they will find true love. Either way, it worked its magic! Unfortunately, modern-day Sidari is way more Benidorm - or "Blackpool with sun."

Sept 1987 Rethymnon, Kriti (Crete)
This time, we stayed in a village due north of the previous lodgings, although we did get down to Plakias, spending the day revisiting old haunts, and a memorably evening on the beach.

We also returned to complete the full walk through the Samaria Gorge (left) via a coach trip. Nothing tasted so good as that first sip of beer after walking 13 km through a picturesque rift.

The following year saw our first addition to the family, a beautiful, bouncing son whose arrival on July 23rd meant he would have been created during this holiday. It's no coincidence we gave him a Greek name - Christopher, meaning bearer of Christ.

September 2020, Kerkira (Corfu)
Driving a hire car in amongst those crazy Greek accidents-waiting-to-happen wasn't the most conducive to peace and serenity, but it did allow us to revisit some old haunts. On the east, we visited the Durrell's "White House," but no sign of Keeley Hawes. A flying drive through Kassiopi where there was nowhere obvious to park for the Byzantine Castle, then a disappointment on the western Logas where the magnificent view of the sunset from the glass balcony was denied us - closed due to COVID. We had undivided attention and a marvellous gyro (donner kebab) at a Pitta place, and parked at the bottom of the magnificent Angelocastro. The double/triple hairpin bend on the way out reminded us why we wouldn't make it to that one either.
But the following day, Paleocastritsa felt like coming home - we remembered swimming all the way out to where those rocks meet the horizon on the 4th piccie. We walked up to the monastery, then had a well-earned beer overlooking the picturesque beach. Awesome stuff. Here's a wee flavour of Corfu 2020.

Who are you? ...

... and what have you done with Jacky Gray?

I know, right? This is probably only the third year in my life I've been anywhere close to doing something with football.

The first was 1987, when Coventry City won the FA Cup. I wouldn't have called Brian an avid fan, but the opportunity to support our local team was overwhelming. Consequently, along with thousands of others I don't as much sky blue clothing as I could. There was plenty of sky blue eye shadow leftover from the 70s, and I even bought blue lipstick. And a ton of blue ribbons, so the ones which weren't in my hair found themselves in bows in our poor dog's collar and lead. Rocky took it all in good part. The three of us walked into town to cheer on the Sky Blue players as they rode through the city centre in an open-topped, double-decker bus. I even went to my one and only match at Highfield Rd, and was privileged to see the phenomenal Steve Ogrizovic in goal. “Oggy, Oggy, Oggy, Oi, Oi, Oi!”

The next dabble with football was 2001, when Marconi, who had businesses in many different countries, run their own world cup. Being a true blue card carrying geek, I had the hand to eye coordination of a wet cabbage and couldn't kick a ball to save my life. But there were so few women in our department, they let me in as a winger because I could run up and down the pitch no problem. Our team was called Comic Strip, and the best bit about the training was definitely the pint in the clubhouse afterwards. Lots of the women were busy moms who couldn't make all the sessions, so I brought in my two daughters (aged 8 and 11), Who both played football for their school teams. And my 12 year old son who, although far more of a geeky gamer, run rings around the rest of us when it came to fancy footwork. Good times. My biggest regret was being unable to play football in our final match, because I had an abdominal operation the previous day. But I wouldn't let them give me any anaesthetic so I could at least attend and support. Needless to say we didn't get past the first round, but we had so much fun and our manager/coach, Yad the Bad, was just the best.

Brian’s been a season ticket holder for at least three decades, and I usually listen uncomprehendingly as he enthuses or laments, with a suitably encouraging Or sympathetic expression. Even I could tell this year was different for Cov, Under the phenomenal mentoring of Frank Lampard, resulting in then the streets ahead of the pack, and a well deserved promotion. I even spent several matches chatting online too our son, Chris, who follows then ardently from afar. At the end of my month long binge of every marvel movie and every episode of Agent Carter and agents of shield, Disney plus decided in its wisdom that my next venues should be welcome to Wrexham. Obviously that microphone they have in the corner off the dining room add a worked on several conversations and decided I should move from superhero to football reality show. Maybe the link is Ryan Reynolds/Deadpool? Anyway the upshot is I'm totally hooked - it's a cross between Clarkson’s Farm and Ted Lasso. Oops – forgot that brief binge a couple of years ago – probably because it was less about the football and more about the relationships. Must go back and re-visit that.

Why am I devoting a post to this today? Because Bri and I dashed home from Wales, sniggering at the bank holiday queues going in the opposite direction as we travelled 124 miles virtually unhindered, to get back in time for 3:30. The kick-off of the Championship Playoffs Final, to find the third team to join Coventry and Ipswich in the Premier League next year. So much controversy after Southampton admitted to spying on training sessions of their opponents despite knowing it was against the rules. Poor old Middlesbrough, having narrowly missed the final, went off on their holidays, and let loose after months of restrictions. With days to go, they were called back to Wembley to play against Hull, who themselves only had a couple of days to unlearn everything they knew about Southampton and start from scratch with Middlesbrough. And there was even a case that Wrexham should have been included in the mix which would have feathered the rise to the top even more. Brian is happy that Hull’s goal in extra time after 90 minutes of sweltering heat produced the right result.

Dopplegangers - Female

Women you never rarely see in the same room:

Geraldine McEwan – Maggie Smith

Born May 1932 The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie 1978 - Jean Robin Hood, Prince of Thieves 1991 - Mortiana Marple 2004 - Miss Marple	Born Dec 1934 Hook 1991 – Granny Wendy Sister Act 1992 - Mother Superior Harry Potter 2001 - Minerva McGonagall Downton Abbey 2004 - Violet

Meryl Streep – Helen Mirren

Born June 1949 Kramer vs. Kramer 1979 - Joanna Devil Wears Prada 2006 - Miranda Mamma Mia 2008 - Donna	Born July 1945 Prime Suspect 1991 – DI Jane Tennison The Queen 2006 - QEII 1923 2022 – Cara Dutton

Natalie Portman - Keira Knightley

Born June 1981 Star Wars Phantom Menace 1999 - Queen Amidala/Pame V for Vendetta 2005 - Evey The Other Boleyn Girl 2008 - Anne Boleyn Thor 2011 – Jane	Born March 1985 Pirates of the Caribbean 2003 – Elizabeth Swann Love Actually 2003 - Juliet Pride & Prejudice 2005 – Elizabeth The Imitation Game 2014 – Joan Clarke

Helen Hunt – Jodie Foster

Born June 1963 Girls Just Want to Have Fun 1985 - Lynne Twister 1996 - Dr Jo Harding As Good as it Gets 1997 - Carol What Women Want 2000 - Darcy Pay it Forward 2000 - Arlene	Born November 1962 Freaky Friday 1974 – Annabel Bugsy Malone 1976 - Tallulah Silence of the Lambs 1991 – Clarice Starling Maverick 1994 - Annabelle Bransford Contact 1997 - Ellie Arroway

Drew Barrymore – Reese Witherspoon – Brittany Snow

Born Feb 1975 E.T.  1982 - Gertie Scream 1996 - Casey Never Been Kissed 1999 - Josie Geller Charlie's Angels 2000 - Dylan Santa Clarita Diet 2017 - Sheila Hammond	Born March 1976 Pleasantville  1998 – Jenny Legally Blonde 2001 - Elle  Sweet Home Alabama 2002 – Melanie Walk the Line 2005 - June Carter Cash Just Like Heaven 2005- Dr Elizabeth Masterson	Born March 1986 John Tucker Must Die 20065 - Kate Hairspray 2007 - Amber Prom Night 2008 - Donna The Vicious Kind 2009 - Emma Pitch Perfect 2012 - Chloe