Author: These Two Eyes

These Two Eyeshttp://www.thesetwoeyes.comI believe that experiences are the key to life and travelling shapes those experiences. I try and get away to experience somewhere, something, anything and everything new as often as I can, and it's typically the thought on my mind on a regular basis – so what’s next? Meeting people and hearing their stories, experiencing other cultures, and having a laugh along the way. Trying new food, marvelling at the similarities, the differences. Feeling anxious and scared, and excited and envious all at the same time. This is what it's all about. Thanks for listening to my stories. Eat, drink, explore, meet, laugh...it all makes living worth it.

Reconnecting with Madrid

The last time I was in Madrid was April 2003. I was a 19-year-old study abroad student living in London and had just spent the last few weeks backpacking around Europe with a few other American students. We started in Italy and went from Rome to Pisa then to the picturesque seaside towns in Cinque Terre. Shortly after a few of us split off after spending time in the south of France and took an overnight train from Nice on into Spain. I remember sleeping on the bottom bunk of a sleeper car for just a few hours after staying up most of the night drinking beers and playing cards.

We hadn’t really thought the itinerary very well through. I don’t think we ever even looked at a map to quantify the distance. This was still when we were early adopters of the Internet and needed to pay at an Internet cafe to use it. We did not have cell phones and solely relied on word of mouth advice and guide books. All I knew was that I had to get to Madrid by a certain date as that’s where my flight back to London was booked.

At some point in the long journey our train stopped. “Everyone out!” Completely confused, myself and my travel companions got up and tried to urge the conductor that we must continue on! Our train tickets clearly stated that we were booked all the way through. We were told the next free train from Barcelona was in three DAYS!!!

Laura was expected to fly out from Madrid (623km away) that night. If she missed her flight she would surely miss her connection back to the US the following day. But it was Easter weekend. We were too clueless to know that everything shut down for Easter in a holy city. Laura unfortunately had to call her parents to get some money for an emergency flight from Barcelona back to London. Unplanned yet unphased, Kari and I stayed back.

We stood in the middle of Barcelona Sants railway station perplexed but still casually agreed to throw in the towel and make the most out of the unexpected stopover. A new city at least! As we began brainstorming our options two male backpackers who were next to us overheard our situation. “You’re stuck here too? We’ve been here for days.” We got chatting and they suggested we try a cheap hostel in the city center which they had stayed at earlier in the week. Weary, yet considering we had no other option, we went along.

One was a pilot for British Airways. He validated it and all and so with my passion for travel we agreed they couldn’t be all that bad. In fact, they were true gentleman. For the next three days they gave us a personal tour of the whole city. They knew what to do and where to go. We dined along touristy Las Ramblas, learned the history of the famed church La Sagrada Familia, and roamed the parks sipping sangria from giant juice boxes with straws. On the last day they walked our heavy duffle bags to the train, we said goodbye, and that was that. Just simple pleasantries of genuine strangers with no funny business.

As soon as we arrived in Madrid Kari headed straight to the airport. I was left alone. This was my first time traveling truly by myself and I must admit I was a bit scared. I had some confidence from roaming around Europe the past few weeks to give me a boost, but I was also just ready to go home to London.

I remember being very hungry but I was too nervous to attempt to speak Spanish to buy anything. With some remaining credit left on a calling card I had, I went to a pay phone on a street corner and called my mom. Really I just wanted to chat to a familiar voice and pass the time. I was a wuss. Instead of enjoying the city I went to the established Prado Museum. If I’m honest, it wasn’t because I was into art. I don’t even particularly enjoy museums but I just wanted somewhere that felt safe to go.

I remember being ecstatic to come across mega stores Top Shop and Zara. Despite being too broke to buy anything, the familiarity of the stores and the appeal of something I could relate to calmed me. Shortly afterwards my day was done and I was off to the airport and back in London. It felt forever those hours alone on the streets of Madrid but as soon as they were done I looked back proud of myself for staying street smart and learning more about my personal strengths. I had really challenged myself that day.

13 years later I visited Madrid again, but oh how much had changed since that first visit. Both with myself and my confidence to travel as well as what I get enjoyment from when exploring a city. I was lucky this time though, as I wasn’t alone. I joined Alex on his journey driving roundtrip from London to Madrid and we met up at his halfway point.

Having been turned off by Spain since that first journey many years ago I’m now a converted woman. Glorious weather, fabulous architecture, and most importantly, the amazing food. Sure, it’s been a while since I’ve last been in Spain so it took me a couple of hours to feel comfortable speaking broken Spanish and ordering food but my gosh what we ate was out of this world!

Los Gatos, Madrid

Our first night we stumbled across Los Gatos cervecerias and were blown away by the voluptuous olives, smoked sardines and stuffed octopus. The goat cheese salad was sweet with balsamic but warm and perfect with apple and walnuts. The decor, the simple tapas and the cute location on Calle de Jesús made it the perfect first stop. And we might have thought cervecerias was short for ceviche but we were just silly and naive as it, of course, means brewery or more or less a bar.

El Rasto, Madrid

I’m glad I took the time to explore Madrid on foot. I did some basic research in advance and ‘starred’ some hot spots on Google Maps. Luckily for us Sunday is market day at El Rasto, a local flea market selling everything from shoes, hats and clothes to simple tourist nicknacks. We grabbed empanadas from the side of the market to keep us going. Where the market ends we found a slew of local cervercerias. Unlike most European cities where Sunday finds the whole city shut down and quiet, the streets of Madrid were alive with both locals and tourists, and each tapas bar we visited was busy with regulars having a Sunday afternoon snack with an accompanying beer.

Garden and view at Real Basilica de San Francisco el Grande

A short walk on we uncovered Real Basilica de San Francisco el Grande, which despite being closed still had spectacular views. From here it was only a few minutes to my favorite building at the heart of Madrid, Palacio Real de Madrid – the royal palace. We sat on the steps of Catedral de la Almudena listening to an accordion player serenade us as we overlooked the magnificent structure.

Palacio Real de Madrid

Walking to the enormous outdoor park Casa de Campo was worth the distance to witness the massive public grounds. Surprised by how much dry dirt rather then greenery was present, the best part was stumbling across the beautiful recreational lake. Families and couples rented row boats and we sat observing in the shade at La Bicicleta taking an escape from the heat. Although there was a huge family celebrating with spurts of laughter and champagne being shared, I was still weary to eat the crabs and octupus sat out in the heat, but the complimentary potato chips standard at most cafes was still appreciated.

La Vuelta, Gran Via, Madrid

Our accommodation was centrally located on the busy shopping artery of Gran Via, which made getting around the city on foot amazingly accessible. The famed cycling race La Vuelta came right past us on Sunday evening and it was incredible to see in person how fast and talented they truly are. Tapas Tapas on neighboring Calle de la Montera may have been a chain but was still delicious and perfect for people watching. The true gem however was Viandas de Salamanca jamon bar that served out of this world cured ham on baguettes, freshly sliced meat to go and more.

Viandas de Salamanca, Madrid

Another popular tourist stop is the El Teleférico cable car that overlooks the city. Unfortunately we found out the hard way that it was shut, but that didn’t stop us from walking through some amazing gardens and witnessing another spectacular view of the royal palace. Even better, the hard-earned walk gave us an excuse to go to San Gines, the most popular stop for churros in the city.

San Gines Chocolateria

Clearly my appreciation for Spain has matured from apprehension to pure love for all things Spanish. Luckily, I’m off to Michelin Star haven and pintxos capital San Sebastian tomorrow.

My Norway in a Nutshell Itinerary

Welcome to the land of a million waterfalls, trolls, and Vikings. Where every corner you turn the dramatic landscape changes within the blink of an eye. Where seafood is fresh and abundant and your pocket is constantly empty from the astronomical cost of EVERYTHING.

Huge troll at Voss train station, Norway

Clever Norway tourism coupled the best bits of the region’s most popular sites and made hopping around to them very easy through their Norway in a Nutshell itineraries. Simple and effective, anyone, all ages can easily book online and craft an itinerary through breathtaking landscapes and (no longer) hidden secret places either on their own or as part of a guided group.

Jamie and I decided however that we would go rogue and take the best of Norway in a Nutshell and craft our own agenda while booking independently. We worked out that albeit slightly more expensive since the box-set tours book the cheapest train times, which aren’t always convenient, this gave us more flexibility to stay where we wanted on our own clock.

Even better, budget airline Norwegian Air run flights daily from London Gatwick. Flights can be reasonably priced and include free Wi-Fi on board.

Lisa & Jaime’s Norway in a Nutshell itinerary:

Day 1: Bergen

Bryggen, Bergen

Known to be the cutest and most picturesque in the country, I wish I had more than just one day to explore this coastal city. Apparently it’s also the happiest place in the country too. We rented an Air BnB from an attractive local, centrally located between the train station and the historic area of Bryygen.

Despite a down pouring of rain all afternoon, our efforts to explore were not tainted. I tried my first (of many) classic fish soups over lunch at Café Opera, a casual bar and restaurant situated in the heart of the city across from the Opera. In fact, I didn’t realize at the time how affordable the food truly was there. It was where I first learned how large portions in Norway can be, evidenced by Jaime’s huge salad, so you could argue the astronomical costs are value for money.

The wooden boardwalk streets and pointed houses of historic Bryggen are so cute they definitely visually ticked the box of classic Norway in my mind. The entire city, and country for that matter, plays the part and is dressed for the outdoors and the brisk summer cold. Yes, you read that right, 50 F degrees in August. It reminded Jaime of a mini-Seattle, each shop selling lightweight puffers, wool, reindeer slippers and of course, the iconic country mascot – the troll.

Wooden beams of historic Bryggen

Souvenirs and wolf hats in Bergen

Norwegian trolls on display at a market in Bergen

Fish soup at Cafe Opera, Bergen

Jaime & Lisa in the rain; Bryggen, Bergen

To escape the rain we stopped in at Una, a modern bar serving a range of over 20 craft beers on tap plus a wide selection in bottles. It was there we met Skip, a 70-ish-year-old American from Virginia who had been traveling around Europe solo for the last five months. Looking like a hippie version of Santa Claus, we couldn’t help but be friendly and share a beer to hear about his wild stories of a 3-week rage in Greece; learn that Bergen is considered the Nashville of heavy metal deemed as such by Crazy Dennis who runs the nearby music venue The Garage, and politely excused ourselves after finishing up with the full history of his ex-wife and funeral home business.

The night ended walking through the quiet backstreets of the hillside above the city, then on to dinner in the heart of the fish market. King crab claws, lobster, mussels, and prawns at Fish Me. Some things in life are worth the splurge in cash.

Shark at Fish Me; Fish Market Bergen, Norway

King Crab! Fish Me, Begen Fish Market

King crab and Mussels at Fish Me, Bergen

Expensive king crab, Bergen Fish Market

Day 2: Voss

The view over Vangsvatnet, Voss

Known as the adventure capital of Norway and home to Extreme Sports Week, this was one stop on the Norway in a Nutshell’s standard itinerary we changed to accommodate a full day of adrenaline pumping fun. So we decided to go paragliding! If you aren’t familiar with the concept, we basically ran down a hill then off the side of the mountain. Then we safely floated over the amazing scenery of Vangsvatnet Lake, mountains and the small town, thanks to the large glider attached to my tandem pilot’s back.

Pargaliding over Voss, Norway

It was totally awesome! I enjoyed it so much more than my skydiving experience in New Zealand (read here) as there is no free fall at all. Basically, I hung out on a comfy seat floating about the world like Edward Cullen in Twilight for a quick five minutes before landing in a run on the ground. You start with a run, which I apparently still did for a long time once airborne, and land in a run as well. I also started screaming before I even left the ground but I must note that at no point did I ever feel unsafe.

The best part about Voss Tandem is that it’s all certified. The booking system is also super easy. I put in my contact details and date, and a few minutes later I had a text from Biorjan, my pilot, confirming I was booked. Almost too easy! Jaime referenced my booking in a second submission and the two pilots hooked up behind the scenes to ensure we could ‘fly’ together.

Paraglider coming in for landing

Biorjan told me his whole story to calm my nerves. He’s been jumping off things such as this since 2005, is a carpenter by trade and does it for fun to help support his new born twins. I knew most of that though because I looked him up on Facebook in advance and the pictures of him gliding off of a mountain with a parachute wearing a pair of skies gave me the confidence I needed. I almost tried to trade Jamie though after learning that her pilot Oyvan is somewhat of a local legend, the ‘grandfather of paragliding’ they say.

Tandem paragliding with Biorjan in Voss

Lisa, Jaime and pilot Biorjan before the paragliding flight

Following our big success, it was straight down to the popular Tre Brør (Three Brothers) in town for a magnificently huge and delicious cheeseburger coupled with a beer from the Voss Brewery.

Day 3: Stalheim

View of Nærøy Valley from the Stalheim Hotel

If you ever wondered what a cross between the Grand Budapest Hotel and the hotel featured in the thriller The Shining would be like, then the Stalheim Hotel is worth a visit. Once the golden hotel of Norway in the 80s, it certainly has seen its day. But what draws the tour buses and tourists stopping in off of on their Norway in a Nutshell adventures is simply, the view!

After finishing up in Voss it made sense to us to go the short distance to the hotel to relax for the night before carrying on. And I must urge, if you don’t stay in a room with a view you shouldn’t stay here at all. Sure, it’s cute with baby pink linen, a mint green bathtub with powder blue tiles and has a very weird charm to it and all but for the most expensive accommodation on our trip (again, we were paying for the view) you’d at least expect a working ice machine, an upgrade from paper cups, a step up from generic toiletries in the bathroom, and a functioning gift shop.

The lobby confused me, and maybe that was the point. Furniture from many different periods scattered between rooms set against fire places, cozy corners, and the huge windows that looked out to the famed ‘view’. But when there is nothing around but the great outdoors, confined to an overpriced, tired buffet attended by large Asian tour groups and a few honeymooners, dinner did the trick, but only just. A sneaky hint of peanuts in the pesto sauce nearly set Jaime’s allergy off. Even scarier, this is a country that takes food allergies very seriously as signs with food contents and potential allergens are posted in nearly every eatery.

“Excuse me what type of deer is this? Rein?” At least we tried the country’s meal of choice, reindeer, but I wasn’t exactly sure how to ask without being awkward if it was the real thing. Good news though, she nodded back with a yes.

Despite waking up to rain in the morning, the second best part was then driving down from the top of the mountain through ‘the view’. A super-steep, windy road took us away from the hotel, further into the Nærøy Valley. Stunning waterfalls, 25 in the Valley alone to be precise, sprung from each corner as the countryside further presented itself.

Day 4: Nærøyfjord

Rain has cleared on Nærøyfjord

On my bucket list for years has been to see the famed fjords of Norway. So here we were, boarding a vessel at Gudvangen to take us 2.5 hour through the most famed and picturesque fjords of the country, and it was pissing rain! Everyone knows everything looks better in the sun. Reduced visibility from the fog and clouds, I can still say that it was totally awesome.

Sure, the whole boat is full of tourists, but like anywhere else that’s what happens when you do the most touristy thing in a place. Yea, it was so cool. Waterfall, waterfall, waterfall…did you just see that waterfall? Oh, and the village of Undredal. Cutest thing I have ever seen!

Cutest town in Norway, Undredal

People watching is also a favorite past time so we sipped a few beers, stayed warm and came out during the really good bits to take some photos and chat to a young couple from New Jersey who gave us tips on what to do in Iceland as I’ll be there this coming New Years. We were lucky there were a few breaks in the clouds and it didn’t rain the whole time. I must go back though! Sneaky tip – try the porthole in the loo to stay dry while also getting an amazing view.

Waterfall view from the loo

Day 5: Flåm

The heart of Flam

What a name! Flåm. The final stop on the fjord cruise ends in the small village of Flåm. There’s nothing much there other then another stunning view of more waterfalls as the primary reason so many tourists and cruise ships stop in is to begin their journey on the scenic Flåm Railway.

View from Flam Marina & Apartments

Jaime and I stayed the night in town at the Flåm Marina & Apartments. It was very quant and the rooms were clean, with nice balconies overlooking the fjord. The village is so small it’s a short walk to the main bit, with a few restaurants and gift shops. The highlight however was the Ægir BrewPub. The food portions upstairs at Flåmsbrygga are huge and delicious and the beer sampling is what they do best. Set in an old stave church, the wood beam and stone Viking-looking interior and interesting shape made it an ideal place to spend the evening as the rain continued down.

Jaime is a Viking!

If traveling on the Flåm Railway (Flåmsbana) from Flåm you want a seat on the right hand side facing away from town. This showcases the most dramatic views of the landscape as the train travels across steep terrain. It makes a tourist stop on a viewing platform at Kjosfossen to view the massive waterfall 93m tall. Quite an eerie experience to view the overwhelming falls in the rain, as a woman with long hair in a red dress stood twirling on the edge of the mountain singing to the sound of spiritual music coming from what looked like an old abandoned shed.

Day 6: Geilo

Strong posing while trekking around Geilo.

When people describe taking the train across Norway from Bergen to Oslo they are not joking when they express how magnificent the journey really is. The stretch from Flåm to Geilo was straight out of something I only ever dreamed. Rivers and rapids, lakes, glaciers, snowcapped mountains, rock formations with a single fire-engine red house standing out in the distance. There’s a huge mountain biking culture here as well and many bring their bikes along to trek across this awesome terrain.

We stopped in Geilo, only to later learn that it’s an upmarket ski resort. In the summer, it’s a great place for hiking. We imagined we’d be a lot more physically active up until this point in the trip but due to the rain we swapped exercise for beers. Luckily for our stay in Geilo the weather was perfect for a 12K hike around the Ustedalsfjorden. It was pretty quiet, bar a few other hikers so it was just us and the massive valley to explore. We packed a picnic, with wine and cheese of course, and set out to do what Norwegians do best – explore the great outdoors.

Hiking through Geilo in style

We were massively disappointed to learn that the two best restaurants in town Hallingstuene and Ekte were fully booked. Even in off-season you must book well in advance. We ended up at Karma Spices of India, run by an Iranian family, and it was quite average. I’ve never before seen cheeseburgers and fish soup on any other Indian restaurant menu.

Day 7: Oslo

It’s about 4 hours from Geilo on the train to finish off in Oslo. Oslo has a reputation of being even more expensive, but also lacking in the tourism department. With just a half a day to spare we opted to go the Nobel Peace Center. It’s a great place to spend a free hour and really brought to light some of the applauding humanitarian efforts happening all across the world.

Street art at Nobel Peace Center

Honouring the Nobel Peace winners at the Nobel Peace Center in Oslo

We finished with what could only be a perfect meal. Solsiden is rated one of the top seafood restaurants in the city and overlooks the Oslo Fjord and trendy Aker Brygge waterfront. We divulged in sashimi of scallops, halibut, octopus and salmon before each devouring a delicately prepared fish main course.

Sashimi starter at Solsiden

We sadly left Oslo with empty pockets and a bit fatter than when we arrived but with happy memories, great vibes of the local people, and amazing pictures, until our next adventure as traveling buddies presents itself again.

What I Learned in Malta

Blue lagoon, Comino Island, Malta Stepping off of the plane at midnight to 75 degree weather was a welcoming change to this dreary London summer. “Ah, it smells like I’m going to get tan!” I claimed with confidence after feeling the heat; taking in that unmistakable holiday feeling you get in the Mediterranean climate.

So here we were in Malta, 3 work mates on a mission for sun, food and an escape from city living. The funny thing is none of us knew anything about Malta. I naturally read the guidebook in advance but somehow still completely underestimated the small island between Sicily and Africa.

That’s the key difference. Yes it’s an island but it’s also an entire country! Naively I assumed the whole thing was walkable and hopping from each point of interest would be a breeze. Oh how wrong I was, but luckily the touristy hop on/hop off bus became both our saving grace and best friend.

Gozo Sightseeing Bus

As we sat on the top of the bus in our bikinis soaking up the rays we were immediately wowed by the ancient city of Valetta, stopping off to tour through the “Kings Landing” of the show Game of Thrones lookalike for a wander and to sip a few of our new drink of choice, Aperol Spritz!

Sophie and Penny on the streets of Valetta

Streets of Valetta, Malta

Valetta, Malta aka Kings Landing

The old stone walls, reminiscent of the footprint England left up until 1964 when Malta gained independence was obvious, but countered by the magnificently clear blue bays that appeared around every corner you’d turn. Like stepping back in time, I questioned the entire time if this is what Sicily really is like. Gelato shops filled the quiet streets but on the flip side English is the second and most commonly spoken language.

Gelateria, Malta

We stayed in the posh bit though, Saint Julian’s Bay. It was magnificent! The Cavalieri Art Hotel was perfect for our needs; high end and trendy yet not over priced, with a large saltwater pool overlooking the bay with access to hop right into the salty sea, beautiful restaurants on our doorstep and accessible to the nightlife in Paceville, which we quickly learned our first night was a MUCH younger crowd.

Cavalieri Art Hotel

We grew impatient with the self-termed “Maltese minute” whilst sailing with Supreme Cruises to the famed jewel the Blue Lagoon off of the small neighbouring island of Comino. Beautiful but so overcrowded and over priced, the best move we made was paying a fiver for a ride to Santa Marija Bay, a small secluded beach on the far side of the island which provided tranquillity with local beers, sun chairs and a clear inlet to swim in. Even better, a small tin shack owned by tat-bearing hippies served great homemade sandwiches on Maltese bread to keep us satisfied.

Blue Lagoon, Comino Island

At night after a few Aperol Spritz sundowners (spritz o’clock) we’d be in search for the best meal in town, be it fresh fish in the seaside fishing village of Marsaxlokk, Italian pastas, or the local delicacy of rabbit. Dining at Piccolo Padre was by far our best meal. With a stunning view over St Julian’s Bay, we sat on the balcony of an old stone farmhouse with weathered blue shutters, now termed “Penny’s House” in her desire to live there one day, listening to the water lapping and sharing fresh Gorgonzola and salmon dips before divulging in the famed rabbit. Sophie was served the lung and therefore it was only polite for us to try a bit of the tiny soft and rich mush. It was the best service we had yet.

It’s sprtiz o’clock somewhere

Rabbit at Piccolo Padre, Malta

Piccolo Padre, Malta

And then I fell in love with Gozo. A desolate place, dry, simple and quiet. The farthest of the 3 islands, vineyards grow in the dry dirt and cactus border the dusty roads.

It was surreal walking the empty streets in the scorching heat. So quiet the only sound was our flip flops against the pavement, stopping only to try some fresh fruit or pick a cactus flower. The mussels at Ta’ Pennellu in the picturesque seaside town of Marsalforn where we stopped for lunch were the best I’ve ever had.

Lisa Vecchio at Azure Window, Gozo

Mussels, squid and prosciutto Ta’ Pennellu, Marsalforn, Gozo

Cactus in Gozo

3 full days just wasn’t nearly enough time. We did so much, yet were never rushed at all and felt totally chilled. Luckily I was travelling with a stellar group of girls for our first time. Sun sisters! Happy to soak up the rays and up for anything, be it a glass of local wine at 2 am (and hopelessly trying a trick in the hotel room to open the bottle with a shoe and key), to taking the long walk home to hear canons go off for the neighbouring fair (fate), or sharing a shisha at night, a nod to the Arabic influence. Because why not, we’re on holidays after all.

Lisa Vecchio in the seaside fishing village of Marsaxlokk, Malta

Sophie Clarke in Marsaxlokk, Malta

Aperol Sprtiz: 3 parts prosecco, 2 parts Aperol, 1 part soda water!

Sun Sisters!

For the Love of France

Within my first 6 months living back in London I have ventured over to France 4 times…it really must be love!

From the City of Lights in Paris to craft beer drinking Lille, to the castles of Loire and finally to the capital of gastronomy Lyon, I’m making a serious dent in becoming a Francophile. Who would have thought it?

My recent trip to the Loire Valley was special. My mom made her way over from New Jersey for our first mother/daughter European adventure. What better way to spend the time then to hop on the Eurostar then travel through bright yellow canola fields into the city of Tours at the heart of the Loire Valley.

JoAnn Rose in St. Pancreas International

We trailed the internet in search of the perfect wine tour but it just didn’t appear to exist. In the end we booked with Loire Valley Tours, where we visited some of the famed castles in the valley and tried a few wines. We were joined by two 19-year-old American’s who were studying abroad, and I couldn’t help but smirk at their naivety, something that I swore I didn’t have when I was in their shoes back in my university days abroad in 2003. Even funnier was that the girls were studying French in Toulouse. Our driver Simon kindly pointed out that learning French in the south would be like learning english in Liverpool, the accent is just simply that bad.

Simon of Loire Valley Tours

Simon rudely wouldn’t assist us in making a dinner reservation, something that I would have thought is going above and beyond. He wanted to prove a point though, so as I hung up after nervously calling one of the best local restaurants in Tours to book us into dinner, he said, “See, do you now have a reservation?” And after I bashfully responded “Yes”, he said, “I told you so, this is 2016 after all and everyone in France speaks english.”

My favourite castle was Chenonceau, set over River Cher with immaculate gardens and a fascinating story as it was built by different women over the centuries. I also enjoyed the day in the picturesque town of Amboise, visiting Leonardo de Vinci’s grave and home where he died, and the interesting lunch of pork belly at what one would assume was a tourist trap yet was strangely filled with locals at cave restaurant La Cave aux Fouées.

Mother/Daughter at Chenoncou

Chenonceau Castle

Pork belly & sausage at La Cave aux Fouées.

Pork belly and sausage at La Cave aux Fouées.

Our wine tasting at Caves Duhard was like nothing I had ever experienced before. No wine was made there, it simply was storage, but then again that’s what caves in France are perfect for. In fact, one of the oldest bottles they still had was from 1874. As we carefully walked along the dirt floor into the darkness of the depth of the cave, we passed thick green bottles stacked upon bottles, labelless, casually divided by a concrete wall with the name and year scribbled on a piece of wood. As I wiped dust off of a 1983 Vouvray, the year I was born, I contemplated buying it. Prices were very reasonable after all but following the brief tasting we had paired with some amazing local cheese I thought better of it and bought a cheap and cheerful Moutlouis to drink on a warm summers day. Note: I’ve already drank it and it was more delicious the second time around.

Caves Duhard

1990 Vouvray, Caves Duhard

It appeared our answer to everything that weekend was “Bonjour”. More wine? Bonjour. Have a good evening. Bonjour. Where are you from? Bonjour. So as we made our way from Michelin-starred restaurants to boutique wine bars and said our bonjours, we took our last stop in Paris before travelling back to London for one more wine, escargot and beef tartare. Oh how French.

The following weekend I was on a flight with my friend Jake back over to France again, but this time to where it is oddly referred to as the stomach of France, Lyon! Oh, how I loved Lyon!

Shamefully I hadn’t done my research well enough in advance, and we arrived late Saturday afternoon on a bank holiday weekend to fly back again on Monday. I had planned it perfectly in my head, only to learn that there are no wine tours on Sunday and we wouldn’t arrive early enough on Saturday! So here I was, traveling to the famed northern Rhone Valley and there wasn’t an opportunity to taste the wine at a vineyard?! So not cool. But then again, if you don’t ask you don’t get and luckily I came across Vincent of Lyon Wine Tours, a young wine tour operator who kindly picked us up at Lyon airport Saturday afternoon and took us through elegant Cote-Rotie to try some perfect Syrah and Viognier. Oh and unlike Simon, he offered to make our dinner reservation. My only regret now was flying with carry on only as we couldn’t bring anything back!

Cote Rotie Condrieu

But being in France’s foodie capital meant that the rest of the trip was all about eating, of course. From traditional blood sausage, the new superfood apparently, and the best potatoes dauphinoise I’ve ever had at traditional Lyonnaise eatery Chez Mounier. The real star of town however is Les Halles de Lyon Paul Bocuse, a famed gastronomic institution where locals come to gather not only to shop from each little storefront of over 48 merchants for cheese, foie gras, pralines, charcuterie and others but also to make their way from each small restaurant to the next, trying a new dish as each had its own speciality.

Shucking oysters at Les Halles

Pate looking delicious at Les Halles

Lyonnaise traditional praline

Jake at Les Halles de Lyon Paul Bocuse

Paul Bocuse mural, Lyon

Les Garcons Bouchers at Les Halles

We desperately wanted oysters but found ourselves sat at the counter of Les Garcons Bouchers (The Butcher), ordered some of the finest steak and potatoes for breakfast, and had a friendly chat with our French neighbours who poured us bounty of their own wine as we must try it they demanded. Oysters would come next for lunch at L’epicerie before dining at Lyon’s famed chef Paul Bocuse’s brassiere, Le Sud.

Oysters at L’epicerie, Lyon

The city itself is picturesque, with an Old Town, cobblestone streets and all, and a huge cathedral, Basilique Notre-Dame de Fourvière, at the top of the hill which makes for a great afternoon hike in between all the wine and food tasting. There’s also plenty of shopping and nightlife, but who needs that in a culinary haven such as Lyon.

Jake and I and the Saône River, Lyon

Basilique Notre-Dame de Fourvière

View of Lyon city from Basilique Notre-Dame de Fourvière

Talofa Beautiful Samoa

Did you know that Duane “The Rock” Johnson is Samoan? I didn’t but then again, I’ll never forget it, as the locals in Samoa are never too shy to remind you.

Samoa is magical. A far-far away place likely the most remote I’ve been to. Flights are infrequent and limited to Brisbane, Sydney, Auckland, Fiji or Hawaii. And that’s hard even if you live on that side of the world! But imagine the jetlag traveling there from Europe or the east coast of the US? Luckily for Steph and I it was only about 3.5 hours from Auckland.

I hadn’t witnessed anywhere as untouched and desolate anywhere before. Samoa is like a terrarium. It’s lush and green, simple and natural on one hand and then on the other you’ve got the mist of the sea, the turquoise landscape of the Pacific Ocean.

Local Samoan house on Upulou

Each year traveling over Easter holidays to the South Pacific there is always a risk of cyclones or other natural disasters. Two out of the last five years I had to cancel trips to Fiji and Vanuatu last minute, but yet again, I took another gamble with booking a flight to Samoa this year. No regrets here.

“Talofa”, Captain Pati of Saletoga Sands greeted us at Apia International Airport with a huge smile and a fresh coconut for each of us. That was the beginning of my new found appreciation for fresh coconuts, and Samoans of course. As his wife sat silently in the passenger seat, chatty Pati educated us the entire hour to our remote resort on the far side of the island. We learned about Samoan customs, key phrases, and free things to do at the resort; but most importantly we learned about Duane “The Rock” Johnson.

Our beach front ‘fala’ was just what we pictured for our 3-day relaxation escape from reality. We were given a complimentary sandwich and a foot massage voucher on arrival, shown our private outside rainfall shower, and were grateful of a full menu that didn’t rely on meal times and a cheesy buffet.

Steph at our Beachfront fala at Saletoga Sandsa

Waking up to the ocean lapping outside our hut with a strong sea breeze in the air, we spent time gazing out to sea on our ocean front recliners, kayaking and stand up paddle boarding in the afternoons, then doing water aerobics which gave us an excuse to go to happy hour in the swim up bar and get messages in the spa.

Steph stand up paddle boarding, Saletoga Sands, Samoa

As I lay with my book staring out at the overwhelmingly surreal landscape, towering palm trees provided shade from the blistering heat and staff with hibiscus in their ears kept the resort pristine, I finally felt truly relaxed and content. This was just what I needed.

On the second day I received my one month valid Samoan drivers license. Sounds scary as I properly haven’t driven in too many years but I was confident in the fact that there were only about 3 roads on the entire island. This isn’t the type of island either where there are tourists everywhere driving around causing a havoc of holiday making, this is Samoa and literally the only people who are around are the locals, dogs and wild pigs roaming alongside the road.

I never thought I would said my best day would be anything other than lying in the sun, but our afternoon adventuring around the island was something I’d recommend to any visitor.

Church on Upulou, Samoa

As we left the resort and skittishly laughed over the unkempt, bumpy road, we were in awe at how lush the landscape was. Now we properly were shown why there was a reason to go beyond our 4-star resort. Around each bend came a new small town. The locals walked alongside the road, played soccer in their front gardens, or sat in their open air, windowless houses going about their daily lives. We witnessed so much from a simple car window.

But we got out outside exploring too. We visited a Togitogiga Waterfall in O Le Pupu Pue National Park; we walked along the beach where true backpackers slept amongst the stars in basic falas; and I wished we did it, even just for one night.

Togitogiga Waterfall

As things caught our eye I’d simply pull over to snap a picture – of churches, colourful houses, the memorising ocean and neighbouring islands and even the chickens that slowly crossed the road. At one point two wild horses began galloping at our car, so I stopped, screamed, then laughed harder than I had in such a long time. Only in Samoa.

I have a confession though. There was one thing that brought me to Samoa and it was Tu Sua Trench.

Tu Sua Trench

But at first it wasn’t what I expected. We turned down a not well marked gravel road to a simple car park with the ocean not too far off in the distance. We paid our 20 tala entry fee then were standing in the middle of manicured lawns, floral gardens and long steps down overlooking the rocky ocean cliffs. But then I saw it!

A massive whole in the ground of green. Tu Sua literally means giant swimming hole and is definitely the most unique natural wonder I’ve experienced. A collapsed volcanic lava hole, this is now Samoa’s most famous tourist attraction and rightfully so.

Steph and I were lucky though, it was the end of the day and there were only a few people left swimming in the hole. We missed the daily resort tours and school children. But first, we had to get down the 30 meter long ladder and that was scarier than I ever imaged it would be.

So there was Steph, floating in the waters below as I snapped a few pics and stood at the top of the ladder yelling down that I was unsure if I could do it. Of course I would though, this was my ultimate Samoan dream. I clung to each wrung of the ladder, holding on so tight, carefully stepping down to feel my own weight before letting go. This was a serious task and I’m surprised more people aren’t injured. Or maybe they are.

I finally got to the bottom and reached the dock, took one look down and all the sudden the gap between the water and dock seemed a lot deeper than it looked above. I was scared again. Eyes closed, nose held I jumped into the warm sea water to greet my friend.

We were lucky as a few minutes later the last group left and there we were, just Steph and I floating around in the middle of a volcanic crater the colour of jade. I couldn’t help but smile with glee – it was in the very thing I had shown my friends photos of in the weeks leading up to my trip, and it looked just like the pictures despite some being skeptical it actually would! Even more so as when we left we took one final picture from above, when it was quiet and still and all of the visitors were gone for the day.

To Sua Ocean Trench empty

On our last afternoon we moved on to Aggie Greys, a Sheraton resort less than 5 minutes from the airport. I was overwhelming surprised. This was by far the best view we’ve had our whole time in Samoa! The perks are limited to the view and proximity to the airport as there is the drawback of it’s nature being family friendly, large and over priced. In the end though it did the trick for a night but I’d recommend exploring the island further for longer stays.

Aggie Greys, Samoa

One things for sure, Samoa is the place to go before it’s a “thing”. Everyone smiles and waves, it’s so peaceful and untouched and the remoteness speaks for itself, let’s hope it stays that way.

Becoming Australian

Prom dress; singing Waltzing Matliza

Senior citizens in bright pink prom dresses and oversized sports coats stood at the front of Richmond Town Hall while singing Waltzing Matilda, Australia’s unofficial national anthem. Confused, and slightly drunk, I attempted to sing along amongst the 79 other people from 32 countries that would momentarily become, like I would too, an Australian citizen.

Arriving two weeks earlier from London, I sat outside at a pub in Windsor catching up with friends I hadn’t seen in nearly 6 months. At first they seemed unsure of what was so different about me. Was it my hair? Had I grown back into my city slicker ways?

No.

I was pale. They had never seen me so pale! Two winters back to back and I showed up in sunny Australia the color of a ghost.

I was way more emotional coming back to Australia then I had expected. But then again I’m still confused why I didn’t anticipate I would be. Australia was my home for almost 5 years. That’s longer than college, and longer than my time in Hoboken.

It’s strange to come back to somewhere that was your home for so long, and everything is still the same. All of my favorite places; all my favorite people. But I think that’s what made the whole citizenship experience more special.

I went back to my old flat. I slept in my old bed with the same bed sheets, the same towel hanging in the shower, and my shoe rack in the closet. I even had left my summer wardrobe behind. It was like I lived there, but in reality I was in someone else’s bed, using someone’ else’s things that were once mine. The good news was it was at least my best friends’ and not some strangers!

I immediately stomped my old haunts. I sauntered down Bridge Road for avocado on toast at my local Gypsey & Mosquito and bumped into my former doctor. I had mac and cheese and burnt ends at Meat Mother with old coworkers after getting my nails done at my favorite budget salon Paradise Nails. I took Wes’s dachshund Frieda for walks along the Yarra River, she’s kind of my dog too, or at least I pretend she is.

I didn’t realize until I came back home how much I had missed it all. Waking up each morning to the bright sun, coercing me out of bed. Even spending time in Sydney, the place my love affair with Australia first started, made me ache to move back. There was familiarity of running along the coast from Bondi to Bronte, stopping to watch the surfers, and sipping drinks at swanky beach bars.

Iceberg’s, Bondi Beach

So as I sat in the back row in Richmond Town Hall waiting for my name to be called, of course it was in alphabetical order, I smiled to myself a bit. I approached the whole citizenship thing a bit casual at first, I paid my dues and lived in the country long enough, but when I finally entered into it I felt excited to be an Australian.

Lisa Vecchio, Australian Citizenship ceremony

I’m an Australian!

I waved my little Aussie flag high to greet my best friends Anne Marie and Nidya (who amazingly flew in from Brisbane for less than 24 hours to share the celebration). I looked over from time to time and smiled at the Asian guy to my right, who was so excited he kept jumping out of his seat. I was grateful as the mayor explained there is a reason why they have a banner hanging out front stating that asylum seekers are welcome, and felt proud to live in a place that provides refuge.

To sit amongst a group of people who were there for many different reasons, all with varying colors, languages and motivations, and to think about how I got to be in that same room, was one of the most rewarding things I had ever done. And afterwards as I sat with a plateful of dumplings and my bottle of wine with some of my closest friends, I felt damn proud to call Australia one of my many homes and to now call myself a tri-citizen.

I am Australian

Nidya Bellido, Lisa Vecchio, Anne Marie Seymour

Australian besties celebrating!

A Weekend Escape to Riga, Latvia

Gentle snowflakes touched my brow as I stood proudly next to a Siberian husky. The tranquillity of the white landscape, deep in the Latvian countryside after dog sledding amongst the pines, was peaceful. Or at least I imagined it would be. My recent purchase of a leopard-print ear band matched my gold puffy jacket and tan furry snow boots perfectly. I already had my Instagram image perfected in my head.

After boarding our Ryanair flight at Stansted to Riga, Lizzie and I chatted over a wine and giggled at the fact that we had no idea what to expect at touchdown. My Lonely Planet download failed and out of character I had done no planning. Weather, food, currency, language, tourist sites…I would have to go circa 2003 backpacker days and just wing it as after all, there was no snow on the ground so dog sledding would have to be postponed until next time. The above was just a fantasy yet my outfit remained the same.

Lisa Vecchio, Old Town, Riga

It turns out Riga was pretty cool despite the untraditionally warm weather. In fact, it’s considered one of the most “hipster” cities in all of Europe. Here are some tips on how to make the most of your time if you a have quick escape to Riga.

Eat:

Latvians are passionate people, so this also explains their love of smoked meats, sauerkraut and pickled everything.

Ala: Every person I spoke to elated both the authenticity and fun factor of this traditional folk house. If frequenting over the weekend, go early to snag a bar seat or even better make a reservation to sit at one of their large communal tables. The local beer selection is vast (26 taps!) to compliment the over-sized portions of conventional Latvian cuisine with a modest price tag to match. Stay late as it transforms from eatery to party spot. In addition, the service was fantastic as our bartender and waiter both made sure we had an opportunity to sample all the local delicacies and brews on tap – the garlic bread is extraordinarily different, delicious and a must try.

Platter and craft beer at Ala, Old Town, Riga

Burger Story: I would argue that this is the best burger I’ve had in my life. Hipster with a clubby vibe and unsuspecting, this late night spot is the most Western yet delicious meal I ate my whole time in Latvia.
Šefpavārs Vilhelms (pancake house): Latvians love a self-service buffet and this small pancake eatery is as authentic as it comes. While there were also labels in English to describe every pancake available under the sun, from banana to cottage cheese fillings, I felt the most anticipated option of potato pancake was bland. Then again, I didn’t fully take advantage of the variety of toppings including candied fruit and sour cream, all of which the locals appeared to drown theirs with. Better yet, my entire plate was a mere two Euro.

Šefpavārs Vilhelms, Old Town, Riga

Pancakes at Šefpavārs Vilhelms, Old Town, Riga

Pancake self serve at Šefpavārs Vilhelms, Old Town, Riga

Central Market: In what was once a WWII Zeppelin hanger and considered one of the worlds most modern markets during the 1930’s, this colorful hub where all of the grannies come to gossip is sensation overload. It contains everything you would need, from fruit and veg carts to aged meats to a fishery as pungent as a bad joke. Handicrafts and knick-knacks line the market’s outer walls offering tourists a cheaper alternative to the souvenir shops in Old Town.

Explore:

Riga was described to me as independent, and the embodiment of culture. If you’re good at what you do and good at getting by, you live in Riga. While central Riga does have its fair share of chain stores, Latvia is the type of country where you can certainly score something interesting when supporting independent retailers.

Riga Free Walking Tour: Everyday at noon outside of St. Peter’s Church you’ll be greeted by a bright yellow suitcase to signify you are on the Riga Free Walking tour. Tours vary from exploring Old Town or leaving the touristy cobblestone streets to get out of your comfort zone and into greater Riga to see the Russian and German influence alongside the Art Nouveau architecture. Agita was a wonderful host and I would recommend the tours to anyone – please tip as you feel appropriate.

Riga Free Tour; yellow suitcase

Kalnciema Kvartāls (craft market): Only held once a month, we took the scenic route and walked the 40 minutes out of the city centre to get here. A cab would have been more appropriate to avoid the busy walk amongst the paved highway extension. This market is as authentic as they come. Predominately tourist free, we bundled our scarves up tighter as snowflakes landed across our thick winter coats while we witnessed native sellers showcasing dried meats, liquor and cheese to winter outerwear and Latvian couture. Everyone gladly spoke english once we responded wide-eyed to their enthusiastic explanation of goods on display.

Vendor at Kalnciema Kvartāls (craft market, Riga)

Drink:

As a top eastern European stag-do (bachelor) destination, Old Town Riga has a plethora of late night spots and hostel-hosted pub crawls. Expect Riga Black Balsam, the traditional Latvian herbal liquor mixed with vodka (45% ABV) to play a big part of your night. Also anticipate beautiful Latvian craft beer.

Naughty Squirrel Hostel: We checked into our private room with en-suite and were immediately handed two shots of Balsam. “Tradition,” we were told. So when our pub crawl host introduced himself as Voldemarse, or Volde for short, I knew then that we were going to have a great night. He actually commented that he doesn’t mind that his name is so closely affiliated to the Harry Potter villain Lord Voldemort as at least guests remember his name. 5 pubs later and we were sharing a pint and burger with Volde at the hostel bar.
Aussie Pub Riga: Conveniently situated next to Old Town Hostel, with over 14 Latvian beers on tap served from an old VW van, this small Aussie-themed bar is one of the top spots for beer tasting. In fact, you can sample them all for only 10 Euro. The upstairs is small but cosy and a great place to chill as you can expect the pub crawl to use the ground floor bar as the standard first stop. Don’t let that turn you off from watching biathlon though, the Olympic sport which combines cross country skiing and rifle shooting.

Aussie Pub Riga with 14 Latvian draft beers

Biathlon on TV

Tims Mints, Old Town, Riga

Tims Mints: This local hangout in the heart of Old Town is a hipster haven for locals, craft beer and cocktails. They even have board games and table football. This is the type of place you could quietly chill in the afternoon with some friends or dance the night away as it becomes a popular meeting point in the centre of it all.

So there you have it! Medieval Old Town meets post-communism hipsters. Riga certainly is an easy place to enjoy a weekend away.

The Freedom Monument, Riga, Latvia

Reflecting on the Mountbatten Institute – 10 Year Alumni Anniversary

The ticketing agent wasn’t too impressed as I put my two oversized pieces of luggage on the scale. “They’re overweight. You’ll have to leave some things behind or pay a hefty fee.” This was March 2006 and I was saving any extra penny I had for pints and weekend escapes across Europe. Needless to say my mom and sister walked away with mismatched shoes, college sweatshirts and other items forcibly deemed unnecessary overflowing from their arms after saying a tearful goodbye. My teddybear somehow made the cut though.

I arrived at London’s Heathrow and was instructed to sit on the ground in the arrivals hall with the others who had landed before me while we waited for the rest of the intake to arrive. I was exhausted and nervous. I had no idea what to expect from both the Mountbatten Institute (formerly Mountbatten Programme), nor the other 29 participants who joined me from all corners of the US.

Joanna and I bonded over going to uni in Baltimore. Emily (Z) and I made friends quickly as she was the only volunteer who responded to my invite for a smoke outside to break the ice. I learned it was neither academia nor international work experience that brought her here though. It was simply, Europe!

We were brought by bus to a hostel in Paddington for the first few nights. I was in awe at the amount of luggage Erin, also a fellow New Jerseyian, had managed to bring over. We were going to be in London for a year. Each of us at a different work placement, from mostly prominent banking to only two of us in marketing/special events roles. Erin was fashionably prepared for all of it.

I met Angele on the hostel doorstep later that afternoon. I didn’t believe her when she told me her name. After all I had never met anyone from New Orleans before. Angele, Jaime, Heidi and I walked to Portobello Road the next morning. Flashbacks of my time studying abroad only 3 years prior flooded in and I felt overly confident that I had already mastered London during my first time living there at 19. I was so naive about how this next year would change me forever.

First day in London, Portobello Road; Courtesy of Heidi Kristin.

See, what made this time so much more different than the first time I lived abroad was simply, it was no longer my first time. Sure we were older and more mature. I mean most of us were at least 22! College was in the past and we all had a minimum of a year of professional work experience under our belts. To leave our happy lives of “adulthood” behind meant that there was an additional element that unified us all – we were all true travelers at heart and for many of us this wasn’t our first rodeo abroad.

That night our friendship bonds began to form deeper as we partied into the wee hours at the Hiccup Bar in the hostel’s basement, flirting with foreign boys and searching out new partners in crime. Late that night Emily (S) greeted us with Indiana-based childhood friend Gerrad, as they both were the last of the group to arrive. I knew then that we were onto something good.

Fast friends at the Hiccup Bar, Paddington

Fast friends our first night at the Hiccup Bar, Paddington; Courtesy of Sarah Lauderbach

I started work shortly after at the international leading market research firm Forrester Research. I was an Event Coordinator managing corporate events for the C-level suite where my bosses provided exclusive and customised research consultancy to Europe’s most prominent organisations. I was lucky that my direct supervisor Daniel was one of the original Mountbattens, an English gent sent to NYC years earlier, so his appreciation of a life split between professionalism and adventure was well understood. As part of my role I galavanted around London sourcing amazing gifts to include in our prestigious event invitations such as mini port bottles to invite them to our VIP event in Portugal or tea from Harrods for our annual London event. Later that year after a private tour of Tower Bridge I hosted dinner inside its historical walkways.

While in the Mountbatten Programme we were also working toward our Cambridge-endorsed certificate in international business practice. Throughout the year we were whisked away to attend educational seminars at prominent places such as the UN in London, and other talks in Paris, Oxford and Cambridge; but also participated in team building exercises in Dorset and Brighton. The days were long but the nights were even longer as we surely took advantage of the mini breaks at hand.

Punting in Cambridge; Courtesy of Jamie Bettcher

My most prominent reflection of Mountbatten lives amongst the friendships that were created during post work drinks sipping pints and eating chips for dinner to save our pennies for weekend escapes across Europe. A typical weekend included dancing to our favourite cover band The Fabulous Feedback Band (now replaced by much younger lads) at Leicester Square Irish pub O’Neills on Wardour Street, arriving home at 4 am, taking a 30-minute nap before heading to catch the budget National Express bus only just in time for the cheapest flight of them all at 6 am. We’d arrive in a new city, drop our bags at the hostel and by 9 am were exploring and trying to figure the new foreign place out with a thick hangover to make it extra special. It wasn’t uncommon when returning to London late Sunday night and being asked at customs where I just came from that I’d stare back blankly, the trips started to blur into one.

Mountbattens in Paris; Courtesy of Stephanie Otanez

This was 2006 remember. Likely only a quarter of us were on Facebook. I refused and was still on MySpace. I called my mom weekly from my international calling card and only would SMS (text) my friends in emergency situations. After arriving in a new town, it was an old-school map and an inkling for the closest pub that got us around.

Once we met the South Africans, thanks to an introduction via Angele and her co-worker, weekends were also spent in east London having traditional braiis while sunbathing in their backyard, learning South African longarming dances late in the evening at Zulu’s and sharing our cultures over too many Savannah ciders. We hosted an amazing Halloween party at the Leicester Square Australian pub, Walkabout, to show our South African and English friends what the holiday really is all about. Em (Z) and I kept the tradition for 4 years later in NYC , and they still were they were the most celebrated parties of the year.

Halloween, 2006 at Walkabout Leicester Sq; Courtesy of Jaime Bettcher

Living in communal housing was a challenge as it took college-living to another level. 8 of us shared a 4-bedroom townhouse in between posh Maida Vale and sketchy Kilburn Park. As most of us shared a bedroom with a friend, Emily (Z) and I’s friendship became even closer as we also combined wardrobes and the large bottle of water to quench our frequently hungover thirst was passed between us as a nightly ritual. When it came time to host the other Mountbattens’ for a good old fashioned American bbq, our house, known as the “crack house” (no drugs were involved) was the place to be. It might have been termed that for our residence in proximity to the ghetto, or the pure debauchery that took place regularly. Frankly, our flat ran out of water most mornings, and Em Z and I, the last to wake up, would flip a coin on who would get to shower before work.

“Blade” and “Bullet” celebrating at the flat after returning from Paris; Courtesy of Andy Cervantes

From March 2006-March 2007 I was lucky to not only experience more of London and the UK than ever before, but also 13 other countries. We cheered steins at Oktoberfest in Munich, ate baguettes under the Eiffel Tower, hiked under olive groves in Cinque Terra, and bathed in ancient outdoor baths in Budapest. We ate perogee in Kraków, smoked a spliff in Amsterdam and sat for hours trying as many beers as we could at a small ancient beer house in Antwerp. And the above was just touching the surface.

Pretzel twins, Salzburg, Austria; Courtesy of Jaime Bettcher

Being a Mountbatten alumni makes me so proud. I was lucky to move to the NYC area upon returning to the States, along with many of my closest friends. With one of my dearest Mountbatten friends, Jaime, we have mutually made it our mission to keep traveling somewhere new in the world each year together. The bond that you have with a fellow Mountbatten is for life, and still very true today. Once a Mountbatten, always a Mountbatten as the saying goes. It truly is a global lifeline and I’ve met fellow Mountbattens while traveling in Australia, Thailand, Japan, California and South Africa. We are travelers and we are one.

On March 6, 2006 I boarded a flight from Philly to London not knowing what the opportunity would provide. Today is March 6, 2016 and I am writing this on a flight from Philly to London to return to my home now. Ten years later to the day and I am living my dream back in London after a few detours in NYC and Australia getting to know the world beyond Europe. I’m lucky that many of my friends in London today are former Mountbattens, and wherever I go “home” in the world…be it London, Australia or NYC, Mountbatten unifies us all. I feel extremely lucky and grateful for the opportunity.

Mountbattens reunited exactly 10 years later to the day: Courtesy of Angele Cory

The Gambrinus’ Stein (Lille, France)

We find ourselves in the small city of Lille in the French Flanders, far enough north to neighbor the Belgian border and thick with Flemish influence; food and architecture included.

Nicole Vecchio Bryce and street art; Rue de la Monnaie, Lille, France

“What do you mean you’re going to drink beer and not wine,” my mother questioned. “I thought you were going to France?”

Within the proximity of Lille (pronounced lee-eel) there is a growing trend of microbreweries and beer fooding i.e. beer pairing is a very real thing. We might as well be in Belgium. But we are not. My sister and I dash through customs at London’s St. Pancreas International and zip through the Chunnel into northern France. Only a mere hour and a half later we are on Lille’s doorstep. It’s noticeably colder than London and we immediately complain.

Rue de la Monnaie, Lille, France

Luckily the city is quite small and manageable for anyone easy on their feet. Within 10 minutes walk we arrive at our hotel in Vieux Lille (Old Lille). This is where things start to appear picturesque and around every corner I squeal “OMG, but isn’t it just so cute?!” My sister Nicole only then grasps that we are in a foreign country and English isn’t the first language. I greet the receptionist with a confident yet mispronounced bonjure and after entering the smallest elevator on earth we land in our immaculate room. Oh Europe I’ve missed you!

Aux Moules, Lille, France

Welsh rarebit, Porthos, Lille, France

Window shopping for sweets, Vieux Lille

We only had a few hours to kill before our grand beer adventure but managed to, what we had initially assumed, see it all. In Vieux Lille we mastered the narrow cobblestone streets and took random turns trying to get lost but actually found our way amongst the cute local shops, craft beer sellers and row upon row of exquisite restaurants. We rode bikes through the windy garden paths of Jardin Vauban, sipped Belgian beers alfresco in La Grand Palais square, and snacked on local specialities like beef tartare, Welsh rarebit and waffles with Nutella. Yum!

At 4 pm we stood in front of the tourist office in anticipation to meet our tour, the beer tasting treasure hunt The Gambrinus’ Stein, organized through the craft beer tasting tourism group L’Echappee Biere. Young Aurelie and her companion Olivier greeted us and whisked us away to our first stop, the unassuming Theatre Cafe, to explain how the game would work. The bad news, Nik and I were the only people on the tour so we weren’t going to make friends as we had hoped. The good news, we couldn’t lose as we had no competitors!

The Gambrinus’ Stein, Beer Treasure Hunt

We were handed a booklet that explained it all. 4 bars, 3 hours and a series of clues to get us from one to the next. The clues weren’t googlable and were intended to have us experience the city by observing the elements so easily overlooked when just passing by. This is what made it both interesting, and yet so damn hard! We snorted with confidence that 3 hours would be a breeze, yet 3 hours and 15 minutes later I was texting Aurelie that we couldn’t locate the final bar.

In addition to the clues such as “once on the square that makes you cry when you cook, keep going straight. If you see a beer shop you are following the correct path,” there were also hints, historical notes and riddles. We would receive extra credit for social sharing photos of key points of interest (and smart marketing on their behalf), and once we made it to the bar would hand over our ticket to the barman who was already expecting us and complete a questionnaire on the given beer color, country of origin, ABV and style. Clever little game don’t you think?

La Grand Palais, Lille, France

Into early evening it grew dark and the game intensified as we peered at etchings in the architecture, storefront names and church nuances. But it was fun! At the final bar Olivier met us to go through our answers and rewarded us points, as if we had been competing against others. It was cute and humble and as we sat and chatted about where we should go eat charcuterie and sample some French wines (heaven forbid) I fell even more in love with this small little company of friends who invented a game to educate tourists on not just their city but the world of beer that is so prevalent in it. Their website states, “there are more than 40 breweries in the Nord Pas de Calais, and approximatively 150 in Belgium.”

Olivier handed over our “winning” prize of a large quadruple Trappist. Aurelie shortly followed with a second bottle, saying there was one for each of us. When we tried to resist that it was all just too much, she replied “for my bad English.” Her English was great by the way, and we even appreciated that our booklet was in English as well.

Grand Place, Vieux Lille

For 25 euro what an amazing journey. We were educated, awarded beer, and taken to some amazing, unique and colorful bars that we would have so easily overlooked if not had been recommended by locals. I won’t spoil it for you, but I would definitely recommend you give it a go next time in Lille although I’m still unsure if Gambrinus ever found his stein!

We ended the evening with the most exquisite steak with bearnaise, frittes and a cheese and charcuterie board at La Part de Anges followed by a few glasses of burgundy at neighboring wine bar Monsieur Jacques with a big smile and a day well accomplished.

Steak and Frites at La Part des Anges, Lille

Uncovering an England I Never Knew

So what’s it like to be back in London? This loaded question keeps being asked yet I’ve quietly gone about my transition landing in the Big Smoke undetected as if I were a phantom. No Facebook broadcasting, Instagram snapshotting or even blog writing. Gasp. But that doesn’t mean I’m holed up in seclusion exactly.

Because honestly, being back in London simply just feels like home. I feel normal as if I haven’t lived away from the US for close to five years and on the other side of the world gallivanting around the South Pacific.

Strangely, for the first time in all my times moving abroad, I don’t have the overwhelming anxiety and confusion over moving somewhere new. There is no culture shock, which even surprised myself. It’s such a massively refreshing feeling to know where to go and what to do. I know to stand on the right on the escalators, how to weave in and out of chaotic commuter people traffic, which sandwiches at Pret are my favorite and which ready-meal curries to avoid. I was elated last weekend to be even more in my element at Hawker House, a foodie night market with craft beer and hipsters in East London.

Street Feast, Hawker House

I’m heading up a marketing team at a tech start-up in trendy Richmond, and enjoying the fact that after 8.5 years with one company I’ve landed in a role that ticked all my boxes: start-up, newly created position, leadership opportunity, fun culture, technology focused and international. This means I’ll get to travel to see family and friends in New York more regularly and continue to go exploring in Asia and beyond.

I’ve taken the leap as an ‘adult’ to live alone in a one-bedroom flat in my old, posh stomping grounds of Nottinghill. This is the hardest transition of all as I’m used to my social calendar being filled months in advance and friends to dine with all nights of the week. With a long commute and late working hours coupled with my poor cooking skills I’ve decided in such a multi-national city that I should be living with flat mates again to meet people and explore new areas. I’ve landed on Clapham Junction, a middle-class neighborhood south of the river that will get me to work, the city or my friends in East London in about 20 minutes. It’s full of restaurants, nightlife and boutiques and even better, infiltrated with Aussies so I may just feel even more at home once I move at the end of December.

I’m also experiencing a very strange gravitational pull toward France. This happened while visiting Paris again recently in August 2014, and then I fell in love with Bordeaux in July 2015. As I begin to learn more about French wine I find myself planning on how to get to each unique region over time. Only two weeks ago I found myself back in Paris with two Australian friends hopping between arrondissements, sipping wine, eating fondue and waiting in an extremely long line to have my breath taken away at the magnificent view from the top of the Eiffel Tower. I never expected to say that it was so worth it.

Lisa, Anna & Anthony @ Eiffel Tower

Eiffel Tower Lookout

In fact, I have a feeling that Paris will substitute what Sydney was for me in Australia; An opportunity to jump over every few months and catch up with an American friend just living the life like a local. We’ll see. For now though, I’m already booked to head over to Lille in January and Lyon to taste the wines of Cotes de Rhone in May.

So as a newly arrived expat I’d only be staying true to form if I devised my ‘must-do’ list or what others would deem as a bucket list. So here it is:

Uncover an England I’ve never experienced before
Hot-air balloon over Cappadocia, Turkey
See the Northern Lights and Fjords in Norway
Go to the Blue Lagoon in Iceland
Eat dumplings in Hong Kong
Drive down the coast of Ireland
Eat kimchi in Seoul
Learn French/Italian wine
Create amazing, lasting friendships
See family/friends more regularly

These Two Eyes!

Welcome to These Two Eyes! Follow along for travel, food and experience recommendations across the world!

Author: These Two Eyes

Reconnecting with Madrid

My Norway in a Nutshell Itinerary

What I Learned in Malta

For the Love of France

Talofa Beautiful Samoa

Becoming Australian

A Weekend Escape to Riga, Latvia

Reflecting on the Mountbatten Institute – 10 Year Alumni Anniversary

The Gambrinus’ Stein (Lille, France)

Uncovering an England I Never Knew

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