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I travelled to Thailand (this time around!) with Thailand Fanclub as part of my #ThaiTales competition prize. Check out my winning blog post here.

So, if like me you plan your days around mealtimes, here’s some inspiration for how you could spend 48 hours in Florence.*

Day One:

BREAKFAST – Start off with a light breakfast, since you are pretty much going to be stuffing your face from here on in. Fresh fruit, a small pastry and coffee on the go – you couldn’t be more European, bella.

Uffizi (Piazzale degli Uffizi) – The culture bit. Get there early to avoid the crowds, or so they say. I CONFESS – my two friends and I didn’t make it here, mainly because the sun was shining gloriously and a certain member of our trio refuses to wear reasonable clothes, let alone go indoors, when the tanning-potential is high. But I had to put something in this blog that looked vaguely cultural, and I’ll be going there one day when I revisit, I’m sure.

LUNCH – Pizza. It’s what you came for, right? Do heed the warnings your wise friends and guidebooks give you: not all pizza in Italy is orgasmic. You have to find the right place. I turned my nose up at at least three neon-lit counters of grey-looking slices before we discovered Yellow Bar (39 Via del Proconsolo). Oh Yellow Bar. Primarily a sit-down restaurant, the kind matriarch at the counter sorted us out with a box so I could salivate over my lunch on the sunlit steps of a nearby square. Perfect.

Duomo (Piazza del Duomo) – You’ll need to burn off lunch somehow, and I can think of no better way than to climb the Duomo’s 463 steps. The queue happened to be relatively short that late-afternoon (approx 35mins wait) and the views from the top are well worth the effort.

DINNER – South of the river away from the hordes is ideal for a care-free evening stroll. Imagine my greed delight when we happened upon Osteria Santa Spirito (19 Piazza Santo Spirito) just a five minute amble from the Ponte Vecchio. I now understand what al dente really means – delicious!

GELATO – I know this is controversial and I’m not known for my conventional taste in food, but I’d give up a thousand tubs of pistachio gelato for one scoop of fragola. It genuinely tastes like it’s good for you! Available on pretty much every street corner and I recommend trying them ALL.

Day Two:

BREAKFAST – optional, considering the food-fest of yesterday and what you’re about to eat for lunch! Munch on the way to…

Boboli Gardens (Piazza Pitti) - €7 entry. I wouldn’t normally pay money to walk around a park. But this is pretty spectacular. Wide hedge-lined pathways and vast open spaces, quirky sculptures and a killer view of the Duomo. After the narrow lanes of the city it felt liberating to be in the open air.

LUNCH – Again, I’m recommending a place I didn’t manage to visit, but this time, not for lack of trying. Trattoria Mario (2 Via Rosina) is recommended by Lonely Planet (my employer, woop!) and I could not wait to get my jaws around one of their steaks. Vegetarian I will never be, and the prospect of eating a plate of pure beef for lunch was high on my Florence bucket list. Alas, we arrived to the prospect of a two-hour wait, which my stomach could not bear. Whether this was an example of the ‘Lonely Planet effect’, or a testament to Trattoria Mario’s excellent food I don’t know, but the smells wafting from the kitchen as I begged for an earlier table suggested the latter. Aim to get here early.

Markets – Once you’ve woken from your food coma, have a wander around the nearby San Lorenzo markets. It’s quite touristy, but let’s face it, you’re not here for the leather goods, and if you walk in this direction you’re getting ever so close to…

WINE – Rinascente department store on Piazza della Repubblica – not somewhere you would go as a traveller unless you’d lost your plug adaptor or needed a new bag to transport your many bottles of limoncello and packets of novelty pasta back home – has a secret. A roof-top restaurant and wine bar. Although not cheap, it is nowhere near as expensive as it could be and the views are priceless.

DINNER – Once you’re suitably tiddly, you are going to need… food of course! Il Ristoro (48 Borgo San Iacopo) is a gorgeous little place, right on the river with views of the Ponte Vecchio. My friends had had enough gorging for one weekend and opted to share a cheese board and a salad, while I enjoyed a sizzling lasagne.

My first Italian adventure over, it’s time to start dreaming of the next and all the culinary delights it will bring…

Buon appetito!

*Apologies for the lack of inspirational foodie photos – I don’t hang around when there’s food to be eaten.

I travelled to Thailand (this time around!) with Thailand Fanclub as part of my #ThaiTales competition prize. Check out my winning blog post here.

Music: Twine by Podington Bear

If you are scared of diving, but have the adventurous, fun-loving spirit that keeps tempting you to give it a try, here are my top tips for your first time scuba diving.

Find a decent instructor
This is a must. The company and instructor you choose to dive with will affect your whole diving experience. You are going to be entrusting this person with your life. So you’d better hope they’re awesome at their job. They need to be using decent kit as well. Do your research, read reviews and when you arrive, go and have a chat with them. You want someone who puts you at ease and can handle your nerves. I for one, am a faffer. The Queen of Faff, in fact. Between extremely tense silences, I would interrogate my instructor about the up-coming dive, and the torturous exercises he was going to make me do. So if you’re like me, you might want to find someone with a LOT of patience. Also have a think about the size of your group. Would you rather have an instructor to student ratio of 1:8 or 1:3? I know which I would pick.

Learn to Breathe
Inhale, exhale. In, out. You do it 24/7. You can also do it underwater. Focusing on your breathing before and during your dive is the best way to keep calm and stop your mind wandering… to the fact you’re 18 metres deep and those creepy fish are staring you down. In, and out…

If you’ve never tried yoga or meditation before, consider taking a few classes before you dive. People tend to hold their breath unconsciously for a variety of reasons including stress, so practising continuous, steady breathing in a relaxed atmosphere is the perfect preparation for diving.

Ask Questions

OK, so as the Queen of Faff I tend to ask too many of them, but questions can also be useful to those of a nervous disposition. Knowledge is power, and the better you understand the equipment and techniques involved in your dive, the more confident you will feel. Don’t worry about asking your instructor to explain something again – it is in everyone’s best interests that you are comfortable and clued up. Don’t keep your nerves bottled up; discussing your worries with your dive buddy helps them bear in mind that you might not be as cool as a sea cucumber underwater. It’s nice to know that people are looking out for you.

DON’T PANIC! ARGH!
Dive instructors are by nature, extremely chilled out. They have to be. Panicking in the water is a major no-no, so they need to be experts of calm to do their job properly. For the freaked-out first timer, this can seem odd; don’t they realise that they are putting themselves in danger on a daily basis? Are they INSANE? To the first question, the answer is of course yes. They just choose to laugh in the face of fear, and reap the benefits of seeing life from a completely different angle. As for the second, that’s for you to decide…

You must keep a lid on your urge to flap about/cry/scream/rush to the surface. Sure, have a sob when you come to the surface (I sure did), but underwater you don’t have the luxury of getting emotional. My instructor Lorne taught me a great tip: Look into your buddy’s eyes if you’re starting to get worked up – hold the eye contact, and your heart rate will slow as a natural response.

You may well take the plunge and never look back. You might, like me, be convinced to do it again one day, but will stick to dry land for a wee while. The likelihood is you will absolutely love it.  Either way, this is an experience you simply won’t regret.

I learnt to dive with the fabulous Charm Churee Divers, in Koh Tao, Thailand. Lorne Harris (manager and instructor) is a legend and if you go to Koh Tao you need to meet him and his team! I also stayed at Charm Churee Village. This was part of my prize for winning the #ThaiTales competition in November, the entry to which you can read here.

Image by beggs

Anyway, the point of this post is to highlight an absolute gem of a place found in this very seaside town. My mum and I had popped in for a pamper session at Balance the Body on the High Street, and needed a post-massage lunch. Just across the street, low and behold, was the Little Blue Deli. Instantly, I felt that pleasantly surprised feeling, the one where in your head a little voice is going ‘Yessss! Score!’, you feel so lucky to have found just exactly what you wanted. I’m not going to lie (at the end of the day, when all’s said and done… Oh, what’s occurin’?) I also felt a tad confused. Barry doesn’t do quaint. It doesn’t do soft lighting and ambience.  Barry doesn’t do trendy, good service and affordable all at one time, does it? I thought you only ever got one out of three, two if you’re lucky.

I was wrong.

Packed chalk board menus and tantalising cake displays made my mouth water; home made soups, wraps, paninis and baguettes, lasagne, curry, along with fresh juices and hot drinks – rumbling tummies, you are welcome. The friendly lady at the counter, with her lilting Welsh accent – the one I miss so much now I live in London – explained that the Little Blue Deli had been open since December 2012, and is going from strength to strength. ‘We even do cocktails in the evening’ she pointed out. Win. ‘Oh and there’s another branch on Thompson Street’, she added. Double win!

Now I don’t know what they season their chips with at the Little Blue Deli, but they alone are reason enough to go. Garlicky, herby goodness. The paninis (bacon and brie, standard) were HUGE and came with such a generous salad, I was seriously stuffed. This place seems to be running a thriving business, on what is otherwise a rather recession-ravaged street.

Barry might be a little rough around the edges, but it’s loveable. And the more places like this that pop up, the better. I’ll certainly be heading back to try out their breakfasts, and cocktails… separately, of course!

The Little Blue Deli – 3 Thompson Street and 86 High Street, Barry, Vale of Glamorgan, Wales. Check them out on Twitter!

Pretty sweet huh? It gets even better…

This time last year – I had been back from travelling for two weeks. I was a whole new person; completely and utterly refreshed, I had returned with a happy glow and an attitude to match. But I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. If you had told me then that January 2013 would see me working for LONELY PLANET – I would have laughed in your face.

And now I really am laughing, having bagged myself a role as Online Content Producer in the London LP offices. The role isn’t quite as glamorous as it sounds, but foot in the door much? It’s exciting. It’s overwhelming. It’s a teensy bit scary. But it’s really happening.

Bring it on!

What? Southbank Christmas Market

When? Now until Christmas Eve

Where? The South Bank, London, SE1 8XX

How? Nearest Tube: Embankment

Tip: Keep an ear out for the free carol concert at the market each day at 1.30pm and 7pm.

For more information check out the Southbank Centre’s website.

I’ve never really been a wild child – even at uni I struggled to manage two nights out in a row – but something happened to me in Thailand…

Sunday 20th November 2011

‘Where to begin? The last two days…have been interesting. Absolute carnage. Insaaanely messy.’

Hmm.

Whether it was my new-found sense of freedom, or the dubious ingredients of Thai Red Bull, something certainly came over me in Koh Phangan. Half Moon Party saw us cover ourselves in neon paint, take a banterful songthaew ride into the forest, and arrive back to the beach a 6.30 am for a skinny dip. What actually happened at the party is a big gaping hole in my memory. But I know I danced. And laughed. A LOT.

The photos helped fill in some of the gaps, but you don’t get to see those…

Think you can handle it?

TIP – Maddy’s Cafe, just a short walk from Sunrise Beach does a killer banana lassi, which is great for the EPIC hangover you will have.

For more handy hints, check out my Guide to the Full Moon Party.

‘You wan’ massaaaage?’ came the familiar call from the women competing for business on the street. A common sound in Thailand, their words barely registered with me, so focused as I was on making the 100ft to the hostel without dislocating a limb. Attempting to ignore their sales pitches, I increased my speed:  first mistake.

My second mistake was thinking that I could successfully avoid an oncoming tuk-tuk by leaping over a puddle to reach a safer position at the roadside. Fatigued by the day’s sweltering persistence, my graceless jump resulted in soggy flip flops, and a twisted ankle. Gentle hands aided me with an unexpected strength; I rose to see the wide smile of a slender Thai woman with kind brown eyes.

‘You wan’ massage?’ she asked, eyebrows raised persuasively.

The salon was cool and smelt of menthol and musk. Leaving my forlorn-looking footwear at the door, I tiptoed to the modest mattress welcoming me from the pristine tiled floor. Liberated from the restrictive straps of my rucksack, I sank into the comforting smell of incense and scented oils; a deep inhalation prompted a large sigh, deflating the day’s stresses.

The dainty Thai lady started kneading my body with prodding fingers. Ripples of pleasurable pain awakened my dull nerves. The sheer force coming from such a tiny person was incredible; she coaxed the toxins from my aching muscles with the aggression of a heavy-weight wrestler. I was completely at her mercy.

Her skilled hands pummelled my tightened calves, manipulated my trapezius and stretched out my compressed vertebrae with a worryingly loud crack. She pressed her elbows and heels into my flesh, pulled on limbs and massaged my temples until I was dizzy. I gritted my teeth as she yanked on my toes and fingers one by one, each releasing a satisfying pop. She practically impaled my tired skin with her sharp knuckles, and giggled innocently as she twisted my neck beyond comprehension.

The grand finale saw my body forcibly contorted into a series of unnatural positions. I had no choice but to succumb to my torturer’s will as she laughed cajolingly at my fearful expression; she knew what was good for me.

One hour with her had erased four months’ worth of tension and pain. I was floating on air, content, serene and glowing. Reluctantly replacing my rucksack onto my rejuvenated shoulders, I placed my hands together and bowed in thanks.

And just like that, I was ejected from my haven of calm, back onto the streets of Bangkok.

This post is my entry to a competition that could see me jetting back to Thailand! Please share if you like and tweet with the hashtag - #ThaiTales. If I learn Thai Massage, I’ll owe you one!

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