The Year That Was - (part 2)

So as you may have gathered we arrived safely. And what a relief it was!
After unpacking, bathing and beginning to feel more human after a 25 hour long flight it was time to tuck into the finest cuisine your lips and tastes-buds  could ever imagine. English fish and chips with a triple serving of green  fluoro steaming mushy peas. Heaven on a plate. And don't forget a good cup of Yorkshire brew. So worth the ungodly hours cooped up on an aeroplane enduring the mingling aromas of food mixed with body odours and the lovely stench that escapes the toilet every time someone emerges from the its door.


After a full tummy and a great nights sleep, which included room to stretch out in a comfy bed, lovely pillows and   a warm cosy quilt. The gang (included myself, my big boy, my brother, mother, sister and sisters friend)  were ready for some serious holidaying fun!

Our first port of call was the lovely endearing town of Whitby, this tiny coastal village sits on the edge of the North Yorkshire Moors (ring a bell? The Werewolf in London). Whitby is one of my favourite places in England. It not only makes the yummiest fresh fish and chips and has the best portrait studio, hidden away down one of the narrow cobbled streets. A place i have visited with my family for over 20 years. Its a ritual to have our black and white 'old fashion' photo taken whenever we visit. This tradition started when i was 2!

 

Mum on the left, dad in the centre, my uncle on the right. And i  am the little girl. circa 1983

 Whitby is not only known for its quaint cobbled streets and rich maritime history but also for its association with Bram Stokers Dracula (insert sinister laugh here). Whitby Abbey is an iconic historic building where apparently Mr. Stoker penned his well known novel 'Dracula'... And honestly on a bleak cold day, similar to the day we visited, (it was the middle of June, welcome to an English summer) i would have thought twice about wondering around the scattered graves of the Abbey and leaving the warmth of the local cafe, to walk the misty empty streets back to my car or dwellings. Its one place that is a must to visit if your ever in the neighbourhood. 

Our next stop on our very busy itinerary (for some of the gang it was their first visit to the motherland, so there was lots to be done in 4 weeks) was Sherwood Forest!

 Robin Hood, Robin Hood riding through the Glen.

 Robin Hood, Robin Hood with his band of men. 

Feared by the bad, loved  by the good.

 Robin Hood Robin Hood. 

It was a lovely summers day when we visited the 'Old Oak', this ancient tree, which was propped up by stilts to help support its heavy frame was said to be over 600 years old. Remember, in the days of King John and the Sheriff of Nottingham, Sherwood Forest stretched down the entire length of England (well nearly the entire length). Because England once ruled the seven seas (oak was needed for ship building) and through progress and development the forest was slowly depleted. Leaving only the surviving woodlands in  Nottingham. So this giant oak is unlikely to be the one Robin and his merry men camped around or where he stole a sneaky kiss from maid Marion. But this oak is one of the remaining few that would have been around in the time of bows and arrows.  What would you give to see what this majestic tree has witnessed over the centuries?

Tune into part 3 for Ye Old London Town...

The Year That Was ( Part 1)

What a year last year was! Describing 2010/ 2011 (the dates of my year are similar to the taxation department, maybe a month earlier)  as an exciting and emotional year  would be an understatement to say the least. I will start at the beginning,well when it all started getting interesting...

May 2010, my darling little boy turned 2. He had grown into such a big boy, he could hold a conversation with the best of them, he has definitely been here before. We were all excited about my big boys birthday it was the start of many exciting events to come. We also (my husband and I) decided that the time was 'right' to give the birthday boy a sibling. Anyway my little sister turned the BIG 21, less than a month later. A fancy dress (movie star) themed 21st, held at our place in the midst of renovation rampage. But the party went on. It was a good night had by all, and the party girl utterly enjoyed herself. And that's all that matters, right? Its my party and i can cry if i want to,,, along those lines anyway.

And the Oscar goes too...

  So the party was a success, phew, pressure off!
 Now there were only 5 days left until we were up, up, up and away... Our first trip as a family back to the mother land. (minus my poor husband who had to stay and work). Now this holiday was had been planned, spoken about and saved up for (i even took up a second job) for over a year. Been excited didn't even cut it. It was emotional because it was a family holiday without my dad, the 10 year anniversary of his passing would be when we were away (don't worry we celebrated/remembered in style on the day by rocking out at Hyde Park with the one and only Sir Paul McCartney). My parents are British and my dad very much loved the country of his birth, his love of such, was passed down to 2 of his 3 children, myself and my brother, who we refer to as Big Chris.  We knew dad would be with us in spirit.

 Two days before the much anticipated departure we also found out to my utter surprise that i would not be going alone. That my son to be, the little brother to my big boy, would also be coming with us. That's right i was pregnant. I didn't know who was more surprised my husband or mother. I must admit i had a niggling suspicion. We were so happy but a little worried at the same time, would such a big adventure be safe? The Doctor assured me it would be. Her advice 'just drink plenty of water and wear those lovely DVT stockings, and rest a little of course' etc etc...

 So we were off, with newest member of our family stowing away in my uterus. At least he didn't cost 75% of the airfare like his big brother did! So our bags were packed (mine and mums had been for little over a month, we were just a tad excited.) Teary fare wells were had at the airport. We boarded the aircraft, the normal anxiety, mixed with excitement and a touch of panic (i hope the plane doesn't crash!)  adrenalin swept through me. This was the life, this was living. Now we just had to endure 15 hours straight flying with a 2 year old, a mother to be and a 21year old who wasn't the best traveller. I told myself once we  survived the 15 hours (which i would not recommend) the next 8 would be a breeze. And it was. Before we knew it we had flown  over the majestic White Cliffs of Dover and were descending over the patch work fields and the metropolis of tiny semi-detached houses. We were home, my second home. It felt amazing! My morning sickness hadn't begun yet and my 2 year old travelled like a dream. Better than his Aunt!

This was the beginning of a holiday to remember.

Stay tuned for part 2...  

To Blog or not to Blog?

To blog or not to blog? That was the question i asked myself. I thought who would read it? Would i embarrass myself? Could i be bothered to update? And the most important question, would i become addicted to this new Internet craze? After thinking about all of these serious questions, i decided why the hell not!  So  here i am, this is my virgin blog, it is all new to me and still a little confusing. So if your interested, if your a nosey fart, like myself. Feel free to follow me :) I hope you will. I don't mind if you do :)

Until next time....
Amy :)