Independent travel for dummies

Not that any of you are dummies, but you know what I mean...

A number of my friends and online buddies have commented on how envious they are of my adventure holidays, how much fun I seem to have had and how much they'd like to do it themselves. My response – what's stopping you? Don't be envious, try it for yourself. It's really not that hard.

In these days of internet, it's easy enough to sort out your travel and accommodation independently. Admittedly it can be time-consuming and going to a travel agent or booking an off the shelf package would probably be quicker but there wouldn't be as much sense of achievement, if you ask me.

There are great websites these days for those who want to do the independent travel option. For trains in Europe I swear by TheMan in Seat 61. I don't know if he really is a man or not, but the site is a veritable gold mine of information and ideas. It was on there that I learned about the great train on boat Sicily option. Need I say more? Since I don't tend to fly on these holiday adventures of mine, I don't often source flights, but a good one if you are is Skyscanner. Less restrictive than the 'all-in-one' sites and generally good value. Oh, and the best site for add-on UK rail journeys is, in my opinion, RailEasy - beats Trainline hands-down!

For accommodation, I tend to use Trip Advisor as a really good starting place, particularly now that it takes you straight to a range of bookings sites for your chosen hotel, and also has information on things to do, places to eat etc all in one handy place.

A good guidebook is the next essential, combined with a decent amount of research. Particularly, if you're a solo female traveller, it's essential that you know where you're going – what's good, what's not, what's safe and where to avoid. A good guidebook (I generally swear by LonelyPlanet) will pay dividends and often saves you cash at your destination through not needing to buy separate booklets about each place you visit. I made the mistake this time of economising on my Paris and Rome guides – never again. It's worth the initial outlay, believe me.

And if you don't want to buy them, why not check out your local library to see if they've got what you're looking for. The only downside of that is you can't write on them – and I do, lots. I mark up where I want to visit, write notes about what I've seen, and occasionally compose bits of blog posts, all in the margins of my book. It also means that when you lend it on to someone, they've got your tailor made version too. But remember, they're a guide book, not a rule book!

Perhaps not as easy as arranging the holiday, is finding the confidence to do it in the first place. I realise that if you're not used to making your own way to strange places it can be a bit intimidating. My advice would be to start small – try it out for a short break, or in a place you already know a little but want to explore more. Choosing somewhere you can speak the language is also a help – along with that other essential, a good phrase book – great for making friends and getting your haircut, as well as a few less useful things like booking a hotel room, ordering a meal and asking for directions.

Your other option is to try out a group holiday that involves travel, preferably not by coach as that doesn't really get you the real adventuring spirit, or if you don't like the idea of groups of strangers (and I'm with you on that one), why not see if you can find a like-minded friend who wants to try it out too. Having company can be great, particularly if you both pledge to push the boundaries and not allow the other to fall too far back into their comfort zone.

My other essential on this type of break is a way of staying in touch with friends and family. For me it's Wifi and my trusty netbook. It allows me to email, Facebook and – in case you haven't noticed – blog incessantly. I always carry a pen and (old fashioned paper) notebook with me when I'm out and about during the day, as well as my camera to capture the sights, and you'll frequently find me composing blog posts – either in my head or straight into my notebook. There something about thinking about how you'll describe a place to others that makes you look at it with a closer eye and sometimes from a slightly different perspective. For the same reason, it can be good to put your camera down every now and again, and just see what's in front of you instead of photographing it. Often the most amazing sights make the worst pictures – they're frequently too big to take in one go, or the light isn't good enough, or it can just be that it's the whole package of sights, sounds, smells and even tastes that makes the memory, not just the picture.

Another defence mechanism that's worked for me in the past has been my iPod. It can be great for creating a bubble around you of 'safe space' that means you don't have interact with anyone, yet can be entertained at the same time. A word of warning, however, don't use this option in an area where you need to be alert to your surroundings - busy roads, dark streets, etc. 

Equally, I tend to book my travel and accommodation in advance at the moment. I'm not quite confident enough when travelling solo to go completely with the flow. Perhaps that's my next travel challenge? But whatever your safety net, don't feel bad about having one. Holidays may be adventures, but they're also meant to be enjoyed – so whatever it takes...

And if you do decide to take on the independent travel challenge, be sure and let me know about it and how you get on!

Coming Home

So, it's done. All over. Finished. Finito. This time had to come, there was no getting away from it, and now my most excellent adventure has ended, I'm back home.

Coming home was sweetened by two things this holiday - the first was that I decided to come home in stages. Not as in parts of me by mail by instalment, but as in breaking my journey on the way back - of which more shortly. The second was that my awesome temporary flatmate, Frances met me off the train in Stirling. It would have been better if she recognised me when she saw me. It was only 2 weeks after all, but it's the thought that counts... (Just kidding, Frances, it was really lovely of you to be there to welcome me home)

I've already blogged about my pit stop in Paris, so tonight it's time to tell you about my overnight in London.

I arrived off the evening Eurostar from Paris to find, sadly, that the Tube wasn't running on the Victoria line, and that was, sadly, just the very line I needed to get to my hotel. I decided to walk it instead because - you know - 'it's not that far'. Wrong! It is. It's very far, particularly when you're lugging a large bag. At night. After days of travelling.

But enough complaining. It was actually fine, and good to stretch my legs after the train journey - although, to be fair, I had been walking round Paris already for much of the day. The hotel was easy enough to find, my room was possibly the smallest of the entire holiday, certainly the shortest - being an attic room. And the meal (and drink) I ordered from room service was by far and away the most expensive of the whole trip - but heck, it was my last night away from home and I was going to enjoy it.

After a reasonable night's sleep, I woke earlier than I'd expected - not early enough to take up the lovely Amber's offer of a home cooked breakfast a sa maison, but with enough time to go out for a wander in the still quiet streets of the capital. And wander I did - I felt like I was starring in a game of Monopoly: Tottenham Court Road, Oxford Street, Regent Street, Picadilly, Park Lane, Mayfair, Hyde Park.

It was a beautifully sunny morning. The leaves had started to turn golden red, and against my expectations I found beauty in a city I've always found a bit too intense for me in the past. I also found beauty in the detail of the buildings I was passing. It's not just Paris, Rome and Palermo that have fascinating vistas and quirky features. I found them in London as well, and as long term readers of the blog will know, I regularly find them in Stirling too. It is true, I don't need to be on holiday to partake of BBPs!!

Anyway, I finished my wander with a walk along Great Portland Street, home of the BBC and I was able to pay homage to my constant companion of travels in the form of the BBC online, BBC Radio iPlayer and BBC World Service. With the joys of the internet, wherever I travelled I could keep in touch and up-to-date courtesy of them - even if listening to Good Morning Scotland's travel reports while planning my day's activities in Palermo could be a bit surreal at times!

And then it was time to catch the train - of which journey least said the better. Other than I have clearly been spoilt by my European train experiences. Still, it left and arrived on time - miraculous for a Sunday - and then I was back in Stirling, eating curry with Frances and boring her with all the tales of my exploits.

Little wonder then perhaps that she moved out today! But that's a whole different story and best told by the woman herself.

So now, here I am. Home from holiday. Back to reality tomorrow I guess, but even though it's ended I've still got my memories - and my photos - and my blogposts. And time to start planning the next one.

A plus to D minus

I like blogging about my holiday as I'm experiencing it – in part because it keeps it fresh in my mind and in (large!) part because it stops my Mum from worrying about me travelling on my own. But it's also good, at the end of it to spend some time thinking about the holiday as a whole and reflecting on the good, the bad, and yes, the ugly.

So here goes:

The good – it's hard to pick out the good bits on their own. In reality, the whole holiday has been fantastic and I've enjoyed it very much. I think even more than I thought I would. My solo travel confidence has grown ten-fold from last year, and in itself that's been a highlight of the holiday.

But as for things I've done and places I've seen, in no particular order, the highlights have been:

• the food
• the Sicilian matriarchs who shared my train journey from Rome to Sicily
• Palermo – all of it
• Monreale
• standing on the roof of St Peter's in Rome
• Limoncello
• Etna
• Trying to speak Italian, and finding that I can get by
• Scoring free food and drinks from sentimental waiters
• my cabin on board the Palermo-Genoa ferry
• the almost personal tour of the Teatro Massimo, and my nameless Irish companion
• Cafe Spinnato in Palermo
• Paris – the whole experience, including getting completely lost and ending up at Place de la Bastille instead of Rue Monge

Sadly, it's not all been great. There have been a few scary moments, and some ugly times. But fortunately, they've been few and far between. And even better – quickly resolved and easily got over.

For the record, they were:

• Catania bus station – Dante would have added a 10^th circle if he'd been there, I'm sure
• Genoa ferry terminal, and not being able to find a taxi – at night. On my own.
• Genoa railway station – the 4 armed police arresting the drunk with the knife was not a pleasant experience
• the creepy old Sicilian guy who kept rubbing himself up against me on the bus to Monreale – seriously, I wasn't imagining it. Every time I moved, he followed me. Euch!
• The tourists in Rome – did I say yet that I didn't like them?!
• Falling over in Taormina and seriously brusing my bum – and my pride. Out of interest, the bruise is now the exactly the same shape as Corsica, but fortunately not the same size – it only feels that way
• Not being able to visit everywhere and see everything I wanted to – mainly through lack of time, occasionally through lack of confidence.
• Not eating at that restaurant in Rome that was recommended to me – it looked really good but I wasn't confident enough to stay out late enough for them to start serving. But, I scored a free Limoncello at the alternative restaurant I went in its place, so not all bad!

And there you have it, a quick resume of the past 2 weeks. Well, not really. If you really want to know all the gory details, and have got a spare few hours, take me out for a drink and I'll tell you ALL about it. If you're really lucky I'll bring the holiday photos too...

And for the last time (this year at any rate) – Ciao!

Paris? Parfait!

Mais tres tres froid!

So, it's been the last day of my holiday proper – there's still an overnight in London and the train journey back to Scotland to do, but today was the last day free for adventuring. And, once again, I've had great fun. Are you surprised? Thought not.

The hotel was the same one I stayed in on my way out at the start of my holiday. When I arrived last night, it was like coming home. I was back on the 6^th floor, with a (marginally) bigger room this time, but more to the point, with a rooftop view of the Latin Quarter where I was staying. It felt great.

My plans for today were to head for the Musee d'Orsay, fill my socks with art and culture and then see what was left of the day for sight-seeing. But the best laid plans and all that – the museum staff were on strike! I timed my arrival for just after what should have been opening time, only stopping briefly for a cafe espresso en route but when I arrived instead of the open doors, I was met with a disgruntled line of visitors all milling around trying to work out what to do. Me? Well, I got my camera out, took a few photographs of the fascinating surroundings and the building, and got my trusty guidebook out to look for alternative entertainment. Part of my entertainment, I confess, was watching the other visitors steadfastly queuing to get in, despite all the signs advising of the strike, certain that if they waited long enough and in sufficient numbers, the workers would see the error of their ways and open the doors. I don't think it happened, and I certainly didn't hang about to find out.

The only problem was – it was really really cold in Paris this morning. There was a misty cloud settled over the city and with it a crisp fresh wind. Before long, my little fingers were like blocks of ice and my nose had turned its usual winter Rudolph colour. The frozen fingers were a real handicap. I had started enjoying myself with the camera – taking lots of detail shots, quirky features and overlooked perspectives. What a previous partner would have called my BBP shots – Becca's Boring Pictures! But as the cold got to me, my fingers refused to obey and the shutter button got harder and harder to find. There was nothing for it but to find somewhere indoors and warm up. And don't you know it, the closest indoor place was a shopping mall – damn, what a tragedy! 

 

I spent about an hour wandering round, bought a few more layers, a scarf and a pair of gloves, and then headed off for the next round of girl v. city. Before long I found the Batobus stop and hopped on board. For those who don't know, the Batobus is the cheap version of the Bateaux mouche that ply their way up and down the Seine, fleecing the tourists – sorry, providing quality touristic experiences of Paris.

The Batobus is the water borne equivalent of the Open Top bus tours – hop on, hop off all day – and a great way of seeing the city from a different angle. I hopped on long enough to get me to Ile St Louis, where I promptly hopped off again, found a bistro and settled down to tuck myself round a 3 course, 2 glass of wine lunch – my first ever bistro meal in Paris. The only time I’ve been before – when it was also Baltic as I remember – my then travelling companion insisted in eating in, of all places, Macdonalds the entire time. So it was with great relish that I whiled away a good couple of hours in a pretty side street near Notre Dame.

Back on the Batobus for the afternoon, a trip to the Eiffel Tower – where I hopped off long enough to take a few (?!) photos, marvel at the length of the queue and hop back on for the return trip to Jardin des Plantes and a short walk back to my hotel. From there it was the Metro, Gare du Nord and the Eurostar back to London.

As I waited at Gare du Nord, I couldn't quite believe it had only been 2 weeks previous that I'd got off the train from London at the start of my adventure, little knowing exactly what was in store for me. Have I enjoyed it? Immensely. Was it easy? Much of it was, but not all. Would I do it again? In a heartbeat!

Tune in tomorrow for my highs and lows, gold stars and D- moments. You know you want to... I only hope you've enjoyed reading about my travels as much as I've enjoyed writing about them. If not, I guess there's not really anyone left to apologise to!!

Choices and consequences

 

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth; 

Then took the other, as just as fair
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that, the passing there
Had worn them really about the same, 

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back. 

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference. 

The Road Less Travelled

Robert Frost

Heading home

But not quite yet!

When I booked this holiday, I decided that this year I would do it all without flying. Which means a lot of time travelling there and back. One way to do it would be all in one go. But I decided that I might as well make it part of the holiday, so on the way down I broke my journey in Rome for a couple of days and on the way back I'm overnighting in Paris, with a full day exploring before I catch the evening Eurostar back to London. 

There have also been a couple of overnight stops en route – Paris on the way out, Ventimiglia last night and Saturday night (to come) in London. But to be honest, it's all been worth it for the extra experience. While the ferry on Wednesday was to get me back from Sicily, it was also an adventure in its own right – and some of it even in a good way! And the train journeys have, on the whole, been extremely picturesque.

Take today's for example – leaving Ventimiglia just as the sun had risen we wound our way alongside the Mediterranean for a good couple of hours. The light was dancing on the sea to my left and warming the already honey coloured stone of the houses on my right. It was a soft, kind light that made me think of Impressionist paintings and lazy summer afternoons. It also made me think that this might be a good place to explore on a future adventure. Not the built up areas of Nice, Cannes or Monaco – but the smaller villages and towns in between. 

[On which note, I am claiming a new country for my list after today's journey – Monaco! Ok it was only the train station, but I was still there and it still counts!!]

After the Cote d'Azur, we turned our faces inland and took a route through Provence, site of a previous fabulous holiday almost at the very start of my exploring days as a student. The white limestone and bauxite hills shone like teeth above the brown green fields. Picking up speed we headed for Aix en Provence (which you couldn't see from the train) and Avignon (which you could), and then at full tilt we raced towards Paris. Provence to Paris in just over 4 hours – now that's fast!

Arriving in Paris in the late afternoon - to somewhat fresher temperatures than I've been used to of late -  I followed my plan and went for a wander in the Ile de la Cite and Ile St Louis. The setting sun was just hitting Notre Dame and it looked spectacular. There will be lots of photos to look at on my Flickr photostream, but not tonight - the internet connection here is way too slow to attempt uploading them!

The fresher temperatures meant that before long I was chilled to the bone and chocolat chaud and crepes were called for, followed by a glass of vin rouge and some olives. All partaken in a lovely salon de the just next to Notre Dame from which I could watch the sun set behind the buildings, the Pantheon catching the last of the evening's rays - and then as darkness fell, Paris lit up. Beautiful! 

Even though I was too tired to go for the authentic bistro supper I had planned, I've thoroughly enjoyed my afternoon/evening in Paris. I'm planning on hitting Musee D'Orsay tomorrow, and finding that bistro for a cosy lunch instead of tonight's supper. I may just be forced to have another verre du vin too!

Ignorance isn't bliss, it's just plain dumb

Now that I'm leaving Italy, I realise – with some shame – how little I actually knew/know about the place, its history and its people. For example, it wasn't until I was leaving last night on the ferry that I realised where Malta is (I know Malta isn't Italy but it's indicative of my lack of knowledge, embarrassingly!).

I've managed to visit Italy during its 150^th birthday celebrations. It was in 1861 that Garibaldi lead the unification of Italy (including Sicily) into one nation state. Before that, I think, it was a series of principalities and small states. It took me some time to realise that the banners I kept seeing everywhere we're celebrating this fact. And even longer to remember that it was Garibaldi who was responsible. I now understand why there are so many streets dedicated to Vittorio Emmanuele – he was their first king. I'm not so sure who Cavour was, but there are lots of streets to him too. [Note to self: remember to look that up on Wiki when you're next online.]

I'd also never put together that Sicily played a significant role in the Punic Wars between Rome and Carthage. Hamilcar and Hannibal both battled over the island. I seem to remember references in the set book passages we had to translate in O Grade Latin. Having been to Tunisia (Carthage, I think?) and now Sicily has brought a bit more to life. Of course, visiting Rome should have done the same, but it was just so full of tourists and tourist tat that it was hard to see beyond it. (Have I mentioned at all, that I didn't like Rome much?!)

As well as Rome and Carthage battling over the island, it seems to have been the target of a huge number of other invaders. Perhaps not surprising, given its prime location at the crossroads of the Mediterranean? Amongst these invaders were – the Greeks, the Turks, the Spanish, the French, the Germans, the Allied Forces towards the end of WWII and now, it seems, waves of hopeful emigrants from North Africa, the Middle East and the Indian sub-continent – if the media is to be believed, many of them illegal. No wonder then, that the island is such a hotch potch of different cultures, cuisines and traditions. Each of them brought and left a little something, which all put together makes Sicily what it is today.

I would highly recommend a visit to this wonderful island. Don't miss out Palermo despite what everyone says. If you do, you'll miss an important element of what Sicily is. If you don't like edge to your holidays, however, don't stay long – it won't be for you. Head off instead to the seaside towns and hill top villages, visit the remnants of the various civilisations to populate and create the place and – above all – forget any notions of diet and enjoy the food! It's what I'll be doing when I come back next time.