Just hanging out with the dogs and the ducks in Hyde Park

Posted by Nora K ,
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With more than 8 Royal Parks to cavort, play and stroll through, Londoners do not realize just how fortunate they are, able to “get away” from big city life and retreat to the “countryside”, at virtually a moment’s notice.  Traipsing through the lush greenery of the more than 360 acres that encompass Hyde Park, my pink-sneakered feet had ample opportunity to walk, jog and run in this tranquil oasis, commune with nature and “put their feet up” in the multitude of cafés and bistros that are scattered about the picturesque grounds.




Blessed with uncharacteristically superb weather for the first two weeks of July, the British capital was awash with sunburned Brits and foreigners, frantically mad-dashing to drugstores to purchase “sold-out” sunscreen, a once plentiful item that had over-night become a rare and precious commodity.  Outfitted with fashionable rain weather gear, puddle-jumping rain boots, and cocooned by a chic golf-size umbrella, I was equipped to handle torrential rains and monsoons, yet unprepared for sun soaked beach California type weather. After all, I was in London, where grey skies and brollies go hand in hand and are an integral part of daily life on the continent.

So, what’s a gal to do, but retreat to the air-conditioned shops and be waited upon hand and foot by eager sales associates anxious to sell you that 50% off  “steal of a deal “ Ted Baker leather jacket (yup, mine!), which seemed quite impractical in the 30+ degree extreme heat, but a sensible purchase for the upcoming seasonal changes. But, there’s only so much material acquisition that one can drool over, and pocketbook drained of British pounds, Euros and Canadian dollars, I was forced to spend the remainder of my time pursuing activities of a non monetary nature and hang out in Hyde Park.

With my fabulous B & B located just across the street on the north side of the park, I didn’t have far to venture, as I was mere minutes away from my London digs, if I happened to tire of meandering alongside the tree lined pathways. So, it puzzles me as to why each time I stepped foot onto the immense grounds, I inadvertently stumbled off the beaten path, losing my sense of direction and looping around in endless circles, absolutely convinced that the approaching pathway would be the one that led to the direction of home. No matter how often I consulted the map and took note of helpful landmarks, I ended up going in the complete opposite direction than I had originally intended. Now, this random “change of plans” was an acceptable diversion at the start of my day, when I was fresh and eager to embark upon endless hours of walking, but a royal pain in the you know what (actually, bandaged and blistered tootsies, to be perfectly clear) at the end of the day, when all that I dreamt of is putting my feet up and pouring myself a well-deserved glass (heck, just give me the entire tetra pack, if you please) of vino tinto.


Had I not strayed from the well laid out pathways, I would consequently not have been privy to the adorable sight of the row of geese confidently waddling along the pavement en route to yet undiscovered territories, belly-laughed till I was blue in the face watching the adorable antics of the scruffiest dog on the planet cavort in the cooling waters of Serpentine Lake and lounge in my new favourite outdoor restaurant “The Serpentine”, set along the edge of the rippling water.





There is something to be said about just going with the flow, letting the wind guide you, allowing yourself to just chill and permit yourself to get lost (literally!!), delightfully discovering random moments of memories along the way.

Come stroll through Hyde Park with me, meander off the beaten path and embrace the wonders of nature, as you strive to stay out of the shops and not squander every last penny and farthing.

Next week – What next??  Where oh where in London do my pink-sneakered feet end up??  Stay tuned!!

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Introducing Miss Pink Sneakers and her impromtu dragon-boating adventure in Chicago

Posted by Nora K ,
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Like, seriously, devoting an entire blog post to a pink-sneaker caricature of you in the form of a well-travelled rag doll? Have you completely lost your marbles? Do you seriously think anyone cares to read about a pink-sneakered hand-sewn pillow case representation of your likeness? 

Well, in my own defense, I must say that it’s primarily all about my travel adventures around the globe and the hilarious and entertaining situations that I often find myself in.  My objective is simple and that is to share a bit of advice and helpful tidbits of information with other worldwide wanderers who perhaps also might find themselves in similar situations. And, for the times that I’m unable to get away due to prior commitments, well, that is where Miss Pink Sneakers comes into play. She gets to accompany friends on their adventures, and experience the exhilaration of sky-diving from planes, dragon-boat racing in Chicago and climbing to the top of the Eiffel Tower, thoroughly enjoying life (that is, as much as a rag doll is able to) and discovering the world from an entirely different perspective. Then, when my pink-sneakered side-kick returns home safe and sound, her travel escapades digitally documented by my shutter-bug obsessed friends, it falls to me to paint a vivid picture of her journey, bringing it to life with nouns, verbs and adverbs, liberally interspersed with a hefty dose of my beloved adjectives.

Merely two weeks after returning from her first ever globe-trotting adventure in Europe, Miss Pink Sneakers had the opportunity to partake in a dragon boat race which was scheduled to take place in the windy city.  I reluctantly permitted my co-worker, KT, to take The Girl to Chicago, all the while fearing that my rag doll would end up getting lost, or would tumble out of my friend’s luggage, forlornly abandoned somewhere on the plane, or worse, accidentally fall overboard and drown. Yikes!!  After all, Miss Pink Sneakers, being a stuffed pillowcase mini version of me, can’t swim!! My only remaining hope would be that she would end up floating along the river to safety, plucked from the turbulent waves by a curious onlooker or a gleeful child, grateful to have rescued a drowning doll.


Yes, call me odd, crazy, loony, out to lunch, daft and/or eccentric, there are far more pressing issues to be concerned with than a middle-aged woman hanging out with a fun-loving cheerful rag doll replication of her likeness.   I can’t begin to tell you the number of times I’ve been approached by inquisitive onlookers, delighted to make the acquaintance of the pink-sneakered gal, all the while commenting on the uncanny resemblance between her and I, oftentimes unable to tell the difference between which one was the real deal. Ok – I’m somewhat kidding and exaggerating, but you get the drift.

So, stay tuned for the fabulous adventures of Miss Pink Sneakers as she explores places far and near, standing in for me when I’m unable to get away and jump on a plane at a moment’s notice – after all, someone has to stay at home and be the responsible one and pay all of the bills!!


The Gal accompanied me on my adventures throughout Europe for the latter part of June and July, an almost three week fun-filled and often-times hectic sojourn through London, Calais, Bruges and Paris – a wealth of travel tales and escapades, oftentimes hilarious, exhilarating and exasperating, a candid memoir of traipsing across the globe with a curious rag doll and a “know it all” fashionista 16 year old. Yikes!! What have I gotten myself into??

You must be curious as to why I chose to interrupt the story line and not scribble about my London adventures in this week’s blog post. There is still so much to write about London and I’ll post a lot more info about my British escapades in future blogs, but I had to appease the clamouring of my work colleague and her dragon boating buddies and share a bit of the pink-sneakered Gal’s sightseeing adventures in Chicago sooner than later – after all, they threatened to hold The Girl hostage and wouldn’t release her back to me unless I wrote a piece documenting her travels in the windy city – so, I had no choice but to cave in and share a bit of her sojourn with you.  Hey – wouldn’t you have done the same??


With Miss Pink Sneakers home safe and sound, lounging on the sofa, mesmerized by her picturesque travel books and watching reality television, I can once again concentrate on the task of writing and reminiscing about the places I’ve actually set foot upon. After all, being jealous of a rag doll’s adventures away from home is just plain wrong!!

Stay tuned for snippets of dragon boat racing in Illinois, architectural tours of the windy city, and just chilling at the Navy Pier, as the Girl’s travel adventures are recounted bit by bit in sporadic and random occasional blog posts, interspersed alongside my own real travel adventures.  After all, being a rag doll, she can’t write and it’s up to me to bring her escapades to life and share pictures and memories of her mini pink-sneakered globe-trotting footprints.

Come hang out with curious and adventure seeking rag dolls and traipse all over the globe, gleefully leaving pink-sneakered footprints along the way…come travel with us…

Next week – back to London – somewhere in Hyde Park perhaps?  Stay tuned!!
 

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Not staying with the Queen at Buckingham Palace - my new digs in London

Posted by Nora K ,
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Anyone who has ever travelled to London knows the exorbitant price of accommodation - be it a zero star “hole in the wall” bug-infested mattress on the floor or a five star “chi chi” palace catering to bling blinged “richer than Saudi sheiks” status seekers – obtaining reasonably priced lodging was a chore in itself. It was therefore with trepidation that I cringed at the possibility of having to fork out hundreds of pounds for a roof over my head for the 8 days that I would be sequestered in the British capital.  Short of having to resort to ringing up the Queen herself and asking whether or not she could spare a room or two (heck, just loan me an entire wing, if you may), the dream of residing in her 700 + room palatial headquarters at Buckingham Palace , would be a commoner’s wish come true. But, alas, languishing in the historic old dwelling, enjoying a cuppa tea with the old dame was not in the cards for me, and I had no choice but to look elsewhere for suitable accommodation. 




As luck would have it, I was fortunate enough to be able to secure a reservation at the Latvian House at 72 Queensborough Terrace, across the street from Hyde Park.  Located just a stone’s throw away from Her Majesty’s quarters, as well as from Kensington Gardens, this gem of a find sits on prime real estate in a prestigious, fashionable and residential London neighbourhood.  Unable to contain my glee at not having to break the bank, the total cost of my stay came to approx 430 pounds, less than 53 pounds per night.  And, that included a full English breakfast consisting of eggs, ham, beans, hash browns, toast, cereal, yoghurt and fruit.  Breakfast was served by the ever pleasant cook who greeted us each morning with a nod and a smile, eager to ensure that each meal was an exercise in perfection.  Depending upon the weather, you could choose to sit either inside the cozy dining room or outside in the enclosed garden area, surrounded by fragrant blooms and lush greenery, and be delightfully serenaded by several melodic chirping birds.



The 16 room Georgian style guest house features cheerful, clean, budget-friendly warmth and hospitality, a welcoming atmosphere and feels just like your “home away from home”.  The single and twin rooms, as well as one ensuite double, have basic amenities, such as a sink, flat-screen TV, kettle, hair dryer and feature large picturesque windows which overlook the property.  Showers and water closets are not situated in each room, but are shared, yet in no way did I feel as if I were in a dorm residence or hostel, but instead in a private and secluded residence.




Steps away from the front door was Bayswater Road where you would turn left and walk about 20 minutes towards Oxford Street, one of London’s hustling and bustling mecca shopping destinations. Day in and day out, my pink-sneakered feet would carefully tread along the pavement (careful to take cautious note of the “look left” or “look right” helpful chalked road markings) and scoot along the perimeter of Hyde Park, blissfully content to merely meander along the sidewalk and absorb the essence of this age-old metropolis.

If I craved a little bit of vino, a bag of crisps or a fashion magazine, there were a couple of quaint shops tucked away on the various side streets, hawking all sorts of goods, open at least until 11:00pm at night and a two minute jaunt from my fabulous B & B.  Of course, you can’t forget the pubs, and a new favourite became “The Swan”, where I would indulge in a few pints of Guinness and the best nachos (believe it or not!) and fish and chips ever! 


The best nachos ever!!




So, what can I say, except “when can I relocate and move on in?”

And if perchance, the Queen does happen to ring you up with an offer to spend time at the palace, make certain to inform her that you’ve got a far better arrangement at 72 Queensborough Terrace!!

 (www.72qt.co.uk)

Come hang out with the Latvians at their inviting B & B, wander along Bayswater Road and idle your time away as you paddle boat in Serpentine Lake in Hyde Park…come explore London and travel with me…

Hanging out in the quaint pub at my B & B

Next week – Where do my pink-sneaker footprints take me? Stay tuned!!

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Have baggage will travel - Dodging traffic in London

Posted by Nora K ,
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You realize that you have a severely huge packing issue when your luggage is over-weight even before you commence the first leg of your three week multi-country transatlantic journey.  Yikes!!  Did I really need to pack every single one of my picturesque travel books, colour co-ordinated travel journals, my entire scrapbooking collection and reams of blank paper, just in case I ran out?  Like, seriously?  Surely they will have maps, books, paper and pens on the other side of the pond – an enticing plethora of yet to be discovered distinctly European paper products – some of which I would end up purchasing nonetheless, just to add to my ever expanding paper library.  So what if my love of acquiring the latest issues of foreign fashion magazines forced me to plunk extra money down on a new carry-on backpack, consequently heaving me over like a rickety old lady, causing me to throw my back out and subside on pain relief medication for the remainder of my sojourn?  Like, seriously, who does that?  An entire suitcase filled to the brim with over-flowing agendas and journals?  Forget the latest designer duds and handbags in London or Paris – just point me in the direction of a stationary goods emporium, library or bookstore and I’m in seventh heaven!

And so the curse of my cumbersome carry-on bags had officially begun, trailing me around Europe, as I labouriously struggled to heave my unmanageable load onto planes, trains, ferries and buses – all the while enduring excruciatingly evil and loathsome stares from my fellow passengers as I strove to hurl my baggage onto various forms of transport.  My three weeks overseas came close to virtually disrupting the efficiency of national transportation links on the continent and beyond, as trains, planes and automobiles had no choice but to patiently wait until my pink sneaker logoed luggage was safely stored on board.

And thus began my week long sabbatical in merry old England, navigating the roundabouts whilst skillfully dodging oncoming traffic.  Hesitantly placing my pink-sneakered foot onto London ground as I exited the bus, I nearly got sideswiped by a red double-decker trolley, coming at me from the wrong direction! Jet-lagged and in a semi comatose state, I had numerous close calls with vehicles, buses and bikes, all of which seemed to have mischievously conspired to keep me on my guard at all times. Accustomed to dim-witted foreigners not paying attention to rudimentary street signs, the Brits seemed to have hit upon an ingenious idea, and have marked the pavement with precise instructions as to either “look left” or “look right” for oncoming traffic.  I can’t tell you the number of times that this basic set of directions contributed to saving my life and permitted my pink sneakered feet to safely scoot across the street without fear of being taken out by a garbage truck.




And that was just my first hour in London town. Yikes!!

Stay tuned for more London adventures next week.

Come drive on the wrong side of the road and stop traffic with me…enjoy the escapades of my wandering pink-sneakers as they dart around London, from Hyde Park to Oxford Street, all the while staying clear of the overly claustrophobic underground.

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Planes, trains and ferries - can I even get out of the airport or railway station??

Posted by Nora K ,
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It’s been a whirlwind couple of weeks that my pink sneakers have traipsed far from home, oftentimes strolling, dashing and sprinting from airport terminals, ferry docks and train stations, schlepping my unbelievably overweight luggage along with me.  I’ve since learned that no matter which airline you are scheduled to fly with, it inevitably is located at the possible furthest point from where you are, causing you to literally qualify for Olympic worthy medal opportunities as you bolt along miles and miles of endless corridors.  

Another helpful tidbit of info that I picked up upon on this trip was that it helps to pay attention to which airport terminal your plane is departing from, as I so harshly experienced when I had yet another dyslexic moment, misreading terminal 2A for terminal 2E. Yikes!! You can imagine just how much fun it is to have to waste yet another half an hour, when you’re already late in arriving at the airport due to heavy traffic, and have to literally run like hell with cumbersome baggage in tow, in order to arrive at the check-in gate in time.  Always one to be the first person in line at check-in, I was now crammed in like a sardine, along with the other miserable passengers who also huffed and puffed their way into the ever-growing winding and snaking line.

And then there was the never-ending problem with steps. They’re everywhere, and there was no way of avoiding or escaping them, causing my burdensome baggage and two over-loaded carry-on bags immense challenges. I can’t tell you the number of times that I cursed the number of steps (3 to be exact) that had to be traversed upon clambering up and down those pesky trains. Now, 3 measly steps don’t quite seem like a huge issue in the least, but when confronted with the dilemma of having to figure out how to throw what felt like a hundred pounds of dead weight (luggage) onto the train, the task at hand rapidly became one of Mount Everest like proportions.  And, don’t even get me started on exiting the train stations, which required navigating an endless mountain of steps, nary an escalator nor elevator in sight (not like I would even seriously contemplate getting into an elevator, claustrophobic that I am) - so, I'm stuck with stairs, nonetheless.


So, stay tuned for a wealth of travel stories, tales and adventures, as my pink-sneakered feet wandered along the well-worn paths of several European cities, accompanied by my 16 year old “know-it all” fashion plate niece and, of course, my ever expanding over-stuffed “chain and ball” cumbersome  backpacks and baggage.

Attached are a couple of pics of my travel journey. Can you guess which cobblestoned paths my pink-sneakers set their feet upon?

 



















 

Come traipse around Europe with me as you schlep all of your worldly belongings and extremely bulky travel books and journals on trains, planes, ferries, automobiles and buses. Yikes!! I’m exhausted already!!

Next week – Stay tuned – The first leg of my 3 week European Pink Sneaker adventure.

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