I never take a mirror camping. It matters not to me that I can't see what I look like when I wake up, and as Mr H doesn't scream when he sees me I'm guessing it's not that bad. When camping, I wear no makeup and don't wash and style my hair every day; the whole point of a camping holiday is escape from everyday life, pressures, worries, 'normality'.
I've never understood women (or men for that matter) who clearly have their normal bathroom / make up routine every day when they are camping - just let it go. Relax, stop worrying about what you look like in the holiday photos. Kick back and be at one with nature.
I know that some people CANNOT go out in public without makeup on and their hair perfect (or that perfectly messy that takes hours to achieve). I am not one of those people. I never wore much makeup when I was young, and now it is pretty much limited to mascara (only because I have really short eyelashes), and maybe some powder if it's a special occasion. Yes, I'm pretty lazy in the makeup department unless it is a really special occasion when I'll dig out some eye shadow...
Talking about hair, having been through the phase of liking the novelty of it straightened, I am now enjoying the wildness of curly, 'whatever' hair. It is freeing and makes me feel less like a clone of everyone else with a straight bob haircut. The only time my hair is straight now is when it has just been cut - and that is mainly because the curls don't sit naturally when they've been pulled around, dried, scrunched and tweaked. So I have a couple of days of smart, straight hair every 6 weeks, and then I revert to the 'dragged through hedge backwards' look, and just let it all go...
Showing posts with label Holidays. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Holidays. Show all posts
Wednesday, 3 July 2013
Monday, 18 April 2011
Be proud of where you live
Tourist season has started in the New Forest. Locally known as 'grockles' they arrive for weekends and holidays in streams of cars and caravans, queueing to get through Lyndhurst.
Naturally the whole point of having grockles is to give the locals something else to complain about:
Naturally the whole point of having grockles is to give the locals something else to complain about:
They clog up the roads.
The slow down to look at the ponies.
They bring their children.
They wander around the market at a snail's pace.
They have picnics where you want to walk your dog.
The fill up the car parks.
They generally get in the way.
Everyone wants them to just sod off home and leave us in peace.
Up until this year I have probably felt the same (albeit slightly tongue in cheek). But this year I feel different and I'm not sure what it is that has changed my outlook. Maybe it is being a regular visitor to Scotland and not quite feeling whether I'm a tourist or a local; maybe all this studying has made me see the world in a different way; maybe I've just grown up.
When I went out last weekend on a beautiful sunny day, and there were caravans on the road, I didn't start thinking 'oh no, here we go again'. Instead I felt proud to live here, in a beautiful place that an awful lot of people want to come and visit.
When I met some people walking who had obviously come from the camp site, I didn't snarl at them, I smiled and said good morning and if I'd had the chance I probably would have wished them a lovely holiday, or chatted about what plans they had for their stay.
When I thought about the amount of money tourism brings into the local economy I wondered what the place would be like without that input?
When I thought about the amount of money tourism brings into the local economy I wondered what the place would be like without that input?
While Mr H and I were on holiday in Derbyshire, we met a lovely couple on one of our walks. They didn't snarl at us for being tourists, we chatted about where we were staying and things we were doing. That is the sort of local I want to be.
Too many people whinge about tourists but think about this - how lucky are we? When they have to go home and tell their friends about what a great place they visited, we get to live here and enjoy it all year round.
Friday, 1 April 2011
On holiday! :-)
Well here I am, it's Friday night and I'm on holiday!! at least sort of, I'm not leaving until Sunday lunchtime when I board a train to the Peak District (4 hours north of here) for a week away with Mr H. I've just been on the phone to my dad's cousin who we are meeting while we are up there, she is great fun and we don't get to see her often enough.
Before then I have to do the packing, which is always difficult at a time of year when the weather could do absolutely anything.
Sooo not sure when I'll talk to you again but you can be sure there will be photos when I get back ;-)
In the meantime here are a couple of Django being not quite sure about a Shetland pony up on the Forest...
Before then I have to do the packing, which is always difficult at a time of year when the weather could do absolutely anything.
Sooo not sure when I'll talk to you again but you can be sure there will be photos when I get back ;-)
In the meantime here are a couple of Django being not quite sure about a Shetland pony up on the Forest...
Friday, 18 February 2011
Natural resources
Here's where that driftwood went...
We're not wood sculptors I'm afraid, but we do like fires ;-)
Thursday, 17 February 2011
Tuesday, 8 February 2011
A precis of events
Dear diary,
Thursday:
Waved goodbye to Django. Lift to the train to the airport. Awful flight up, 70mph winds in Glasgow necessitated aborted landing and diversion to Newcastle. Four hour coach trip back to Glasgow to be picked up by Mr H. at 10pm who had spent four hours window shopping. Nerves shattered. Considered that if it's still blowing dogs off chains on Monday I can catch the train home. Much needed cup of tea followed swiftly by bed.
Friday:
Windy again! braved the seafront in Ayr for wind, spume and photo opportunities. Selected cafe for lunch which served over-priced toasties which we ate while watching hoardes of school children file past... and back with Cokes and MacDonalds. Drooled over books in Waterstones but escaped with only four.
Saturday:
A homebody day. Walked by the in-spate River Doon in misty drizzle, missed having a dog beside us. Back to the flat for tea, home-baked biscuits, novel-absorbing and job-application-proof-reading. In the evening back into Ayr for a live-music gig at Mr H's local pub.
Sunday:
A day out to the North! Drove past familiar yet normally distant regatta venues to catch the little red ferry to Dunoon. A reccy for the potential job including checking out rental cottages and the potential of Dunoon as a place to live. It got a positive score of supermarket, pharmacy and real shops. I drove the 'new' van so that Mr H could do the Looking Out of the Window bit. Lunch and awe-inspired gasps next to Loch Eck, more photo opportunities. Home on the 3.20 ferry and roast beef for dinner.
Monday:
Woke to windy weather, but forecast said calm by late afternoon. Popped across the courtyard for a cuppa with Mr H's neighbour and half her family who were staying. A jovial gathering which mainly consisted of conversation about speed traps and driving. After lunch and packing departed for Silverburn shopping centre for more window and real shopping before being dropped at the airport. Goodbye Scotland for another time.
Uneventful flight home on a half-empty plane, to be met by my colleague who imparted all the office gossip on the way home.
Tuesday:
Picked up Django from his 'grandparents', who had throroughly enjoyed his company. He is now snoring in his basket in the kitchen.
A Grand Weekend.
Thursday:
Waved goodbye to Django. Lift to the train to the airport. Awful flight up, 70mph winds in Glasgow necessitated aborted landing and diversion to Newcastle. Four hour coach trip back to Glasgow to be picked up by Mr H. at 10pm who had spent four hours window shopping. Nerves shattered. Considered that if it's still blowing dogs off chains on Monday I can catch the train home. Much needed cup of tea followed swiftly by bed.
Friday:
Windy again! braved the seafront in Ayr for wind, spume and photo opportunities. Selected cafe for lunch which served over-priced toasties which we ate while watching hoardes of school children file past... and back with Cokes and MacDonalds. Drooled over books in Waterstones but escaped with only four.
Saturday:
A homebody day. Walked by the in-spate River Doon in misty drizzle, missed having a dog beside us. Back to the flat for tea, home-baked biscuits, novel-absorbing and job-application-proof-reading. In the evening back into Ayr for a live-music gig at Mr H's local pub.
Sunday:
A day out to the North! Drove past familiar yet normally distant regatta venues to catch the little red ferry to Dunoon. A reccy for the potential job including checking out rental cottages and the potential of Dunoon as a place to live. It got a positive score of supermarket, pharmacy and real shops. I drove the 'new' van so that Mr H could do the Looking Out of the Window bit. Lunch and awe-inspired gasps next to Loch Eck, more photo opportunities. Home on the 3.20 ferry and roast beef for dinner.
Woke to windy weather, but forecast said calm by late afternoon. Popped across the courtyard for a cuppa with Mr H's neighbour and half her family who were staying. A jovial gathering which mainly consisted of conversation about speed traps and driving. After lunch and packing departed for Silverburn shopping centre for more window and real shopping before being dropped at the airport. Goodbye Scotland for another time.
Uneventful flight home on a half-empty plane, to be met by my colleague who imparted all the office gossip on the way home.
Tuesday:
Picked up Django from his 'grandparents', who had throroughly enjoyed his company. He is now snoring in his basket in the kitchen.
A Grand Weekend.
Thursday, 30 December 2010
Time to relax
Today we are having a day off. No appointments to meet, no people to see, no conversation to make, nowhere to go. Just mooching and doing whatever we please.
So far that has consisted of Mr H walking Django and mending his trousers (he is the ex-upholsterer, I go nowhere near the sewing maching except in emergencies!); I stayed in bed til 10am, showered and planted some bulbs in the garden.
That's another first - gardening. Now I don't need my crutches out in the garden so it makes life a lot easier (especially the 'cleaning up after Django' part!). I think this afternoon we will clear up some leaves and dig some potatoes/carrots for tea.
The latter 6 months have been about new experiences and good things coming out of bad. It's so easy for people to see the negative, but I see the fact that Mr H and I are closer than ever; we both have jobs; I have started playing with art again; staff at work have been forced out of taking me for granted and are more involved (maybe I should see the crash as an extension to the management course I did just before it); and I have all you new friends!
As for 2011 - all I can say is that I will take it as it comes.
So far that has consisted of Mr H walking Django and mending his trousers (he is the ex-upholsterer, I go nowhere near the sewing maching except in emergencies!); I stayed in bed til 10am, showered and planted some bulbs in the garden.
That's another first - gardening. Now I don't need my crutches out in the garden so it makes life a lot easier (especially the 'cleaning up after Django' part!). I think this afternoon we will clear up some leaves and dig some potatoes/carrots for tea.
This is not our garden, it is at my parents' house, where I grew up.
So, other bloggers have been reflecting on 2010 and looking forward to 2011. I was trying to remember the first 6 months of this year, but the only things that stick in my mind were the ice in January; visiting friends in Cheshire; a night out in Cowes at Easter; our week in the Lake District; Mr H getting his first Forestry Commission job; and our long drive to Scotland and back to view his new flat. The rest of life was the grit and sand that filled in the gaps between the stones.
The latter 6 months have been about new experiences and good things coming out of bad. It's so easy for people to see the negative, but I see the fact that Mr H and I are closer than ever; we both have jobs; I have started playing with art again; staff at work have been forced out of taking me for granted and are more involved (maybe I should see the crash as an extension to the management course I did just before it); and I have all you new friends!
As for 2011 - all I can say is that I will take it as it comes.
Wednesday, 15 December 2010
Love where you live
I have been trying to find out about travel insurance for trips within the UK, since Mr H and I have a hotel booked with a 'no cancellation' clause (that's how we could afford it!). So there's the question of not losing our week's money if we can't get there for some reason.
All the travel insurance information I look at only seems to refer to people flying abroad. I have come to the conclusion that those of us who predominently holiday within our own beautiful countryside are very much in the minority. There are still so many places we haven't explored, and the week we have booked is in the Peak District which is beautiful area right in the middle of the country.
Others do not seem to even consider it - if they are having a holiday then there is no question that they will being queueing in the airport for a week in the sun, or on the slopes.
Give us the wilds of Scotland, a long-distance path along a yet to be explored coastline, or a quiet Cornish campsite anytime (yes, they do exist, out of season). We do make exceptions for visiting friends in the Dordogne on occasion ;-)
[*Mel, I can see you shaking your head in horror already!]
So I have resorted to e-mailing a question about travel insurance to one of the companies. I daresay they will reply once they have recovered from the shock.
All the travel insurance information I look at only seems to refer to people flying abroad. I have come to the conclusion that those of us who predominently holiday within our own beautiful countryside are very much in the minority. There are still so many places we haven't explored, and the week we have booked is in the Peak District which is beautiful area right in the middle of the country.
Others do not seem to even consider it - if they are having a holiday then there is no question that they will being queueing in the airport for a week in the sun, or on the slopes.
No flying required
Give us the wilds of Scotland, a long-distance path along a yet to be explored coastline, or a quiet Cornish campsite anytime (yes, they do exist, out of season). We do make exceptions for visiting friends in the Dordogne on occasion ;-)
[*Mel, I can see you shaking your head in horror already!]
So I have resorted to e-mailing a question about travel insurance to one of the companies. I daresay they will reply once they have recovered from the shock.
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