Category Archives: Sophie is travelling

Writing in transit

Up until recently, I have been very much tied to my desktop when it comes to working on my novel. My trusty Scrivener is not available on the iPad, and besides there is something about this space that focuses me. Both of my first two novels were written here in their entirety, and there is an energy and an association of success that makes it (relatively) easy to get the words on the page.

Except…

Lately it has got harder and harder to find the time to write. Even with getting up early, my progress towards my word count target has slowed, and various excursions to London and further afield have meant my desk has been a very long way away just when I needed it most. So I have finally got round to dusting off my old laptop, dredging the (limited) depths of my technical expertise to get it working again, and setting up the Scrivener and Dropbox combo that means my novel can be with me wherever I am.

It’s taking a bit of getting used to, but it seems to be working. I’ve had a couple of writing stints, one on a train, the other on a plane, where I have found the words pouring out – so much so that arriving at my destination has ended up being quite frustrating!

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It seems there is something about being on the move that is quite conducive to writing. I have always found the ambient noise of trains and planes quite hypnotic, and in this instance it seems to have shaken me out of my comfort zone and help me see things differently. It is as if the physical shift in time and place has helped me get over the initial stumbling blocks that the changing landscape of my story had presented.

Whatever, now that I am back on solid ground I am very much closing in on my end goal. Even the tricksy issues of structure are beginning to find some sort of resolution in my mind, and I have some ideas that I’m really looking forward to exploring when this first draft is done.

Most of all, though, I’m looking forward to the potential freedom in my future writing life – one where the inability to be at my desk does not translate into an inability to write, where I can use my environment to my advantage as I develop different aspects of my stories.

I have always envisaged a life as a writer where I can be free to travel, and work wherever the mood takes me. Suddenly that possibility seems closer than it ever has before.

 

Writing Bubble

Learning (loads) in Lanzarote

The unschooling diaries: weeks eleven and twelve

We spent a week in the Canary Islands over Easter, and once again I have been blown away by just how much there is to be learnt from travelling. We weren’t even motivated by anything more than the desire to get away somewhere warm and spend some quality time as a family, but the tremendous scope for discovery and new experiences that Lanzarote had to offer completely surpassed our expectations.

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We were especially lucky, I think, with the base we chose. We stayed in the most wonderful eco-resort in the North of the island, away from the main tourist trail. We slept in gorgeous yurts, which was an experience in itself. Our closest neighbours were chickens, ducks and donkeys, and there was a lovely solar-heated pool. Not forgetting the playground, which was right outside our little complex: it had a trampoline, and climbing frames, and a boat, and sand, and dump trucks, and little houses, and for Arthur it very quickly became home.

Outside of our little idyll, there was a whole new world to explore.

Unsurprisingly, the sea was central to much of our experience: admiring it, travelling across it, eating its many fruits, and of course swimming in it. We found an incredible lagoon, and some magical tidal pools. Between those and the pool Arthur well and truly shook off any wintery reluctance to jump right in, and his confidence and skill in the water came on in (literal) leaps and bounds.

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He was mesmerised by the little fish that swam around our ankles as we paddled and splashed, but it didn’t stop him enjoying them on his plate, too… I’m not sure how many three year olds would demolish boquerones with quite as much relish as this one did. I like that he’s happy to eat fish that looks like fish, though – and that it gave us the opportunity to talk about where it came from and how it had been caught. I don’t want to freak him out about the food he eats, but I think it’s useful to be able to make the connections and understand our world better – especially when it’s him asking all the questions!

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Away from the sea, there were of course the volcanoes. In the run up to our trip we’d watched some videos and talked about the volcanoes we were likely to see there, and wherever we went Arthur was full of questions about the nature of the mountains around us. We took a (very windy) trek into the lava fields, climbing up to the top of one volcano to peer into the caldera and walking into the depths of another. Both were long dormant, but that didn’t stop the incredible power of nature being evident everywhere we looked.

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One of the other highlights of our trip was completely unexpected. I had never heard of Cesar Manrique, but he was an inspirational artist and architect who through his work and his vision had an enormous impact on the infrastructure of the island. We visited several of the sites he created, and Arthur soaked up the paintings and the sculptures and the unusual spaces, as well as being fascinated by the exhibitions about the landscape around us.

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Last but very much not least, inspired by an advertising board that caught Arthur’s eye in the airport, we took a trip on a submarine. It was the first time any of us had been on an actual submarine voyage, and it blew all of our minds a little bit – but especially Arthur’s. Just the whole mechanics of it was pretty exciting, watching the little screen at our seat compute our depth, the pilots with their illuminated control panel and the propellers at the rear. And out of the window we saw wrecks, lots of fish, and even a diver feeding a huge ray. It was pretty cool.

It was all pretty cool, actually. And it really got me thinking about how we can work some longer trips into the next few years. It’s one of the main reasons I’m not super keen about getting stuck back into the constraints of the school system any earlier than I have to, and why I’m trying to evolve my working life into one I can take on the road with me.

We shall see…

For now, though, we have plenty of memories to be mulling over. I’m going to make a photobook for Arthur so that we can pull it out from time to time and be inspired afresh by our experiences. It’s a lot to compute for a growing mind after all!

 

13/52 & 14/52

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“A portrait of my child, once a week, every week, in 2016.”

We were away last week, on a much-needed family holiday in Lanzarote. We have come back with wonderful memories and far too many fabulous photos. It’s going to take me a while to process them all, but in the meantime here are two of my favourites…

The first, from Easter Sunday. Our yurts made an unusual setting for an egg hunt, but I was determined that Arthur would have that experience this year. He loved it – a little confused as to how he’d manage to miss the Easter bunny whilst he was having his breakfast, but delighting in finding the little foil wrapped morsels of chocolate. He unwrapped each one with such care, savouring the aroma before taking little bites and letting the flavour explode in his mouth.

The second, towards the end of our trip. We joined a trek to two of the island’s volcanoes, and entering the lava fields was much like I imagine it might be to walk on the moon. Arthur was happy to stay in the sling for the first part of our explorations, but when the ground flattened out he was desperate to get down for a run. Buffeted by the wind, he squealed with joy as he immersed himself in this strange new world.

Linking up with Jodi at Practising Simplicity for The 52 Project. 

Sunday photo: 20th December 2015

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It’s been a long day.

A long weekend, really.

Yesterday we left Devon at 8am, and drove for four hours before an extended family lunch and then a mindblowing theatre experience.

Today we headed to Heathrow, then had the unbridled excitement of a flight to Iceland.

It really was lots of fun. We’ve been travelling with Arthur since he was 3 months old, ish. It’s been hard work at times, but ultimately we have achieved our goal: a little person who relishes new experiences, who tolerates the boredom involved in getting to somewhere new and cherishes the wonder of the arrival.

And, even more importantly, will very happily snuggle up on a nest of coats when it’s time for bed.

Lushness.

Linking up today’s post with Darren at One Dad 3 Girls for My Sunday Photo and Jodi at Practising Simplicity for The 52 Project. 

A toddler-inspired trip to Barcelona

Seven years ago or so, one of my bestest friends moved to Barcelona. I was gutted that she would no longer be around the corner, but there began a love affair with the Catalonian capital, a city that whilst I was living in London became my second home.

It’s been harder to visit as frequently now that I’m living in Devon, though it’s a short flight from Bristol, or a seriously cool adventure by ferry and road from Plymouth. Last summer we managed to make it out with Arthur for the first time, and discovered just what an awesome city it is with a toddler in tow.

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I’d already been used to traversing the streets with my friend’s own children, but I’d panicked a little at the prospect of visiting with an eighteen month old, especially in the height of summer. I needn’t have worried though.

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He loved toddling down tree-lined streets, eye-catching graffiti, a handy play park or an intriguing piece of public art on almost every corner. The whole culture is just perfectly set up for kids: no-one looked twice when we took him out in the evening for dinner, and with the help of the sling we could get everywhere we needed to on public transport.

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On top of the general infrastructure though there are lots of things to do that are just perfect for keeping little people entertained. Having just booked our flights for this summer’s trip, I thought it was about time I revisited them!

1) The beach

It’s sometimes easy to forget that Barcelona is right on the sea. In fact, when I first visited as part of an InterRail trip nearly twenty years ago, I’m not sure we actually made it to the beach at all. The coastline has been developed loads in the intervening years and there are now a range of beaches to choose from, becoming quieter and cleaner the further you venture from the centre.

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It was a real bonus in the August heat to be able to go and chill out and cool off – though actually the sea is lovely and warm in summer, especially for a little boy used to swimming in the bracing seas of Brixham!

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2) The Olympic pool 

The sea is not the only option for a swim. In fact my favourite place for a refreshing dip has to be the Olympic pool high above the city in Montjuic.

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The water is delightedly cool on hot skin, it never gets too crazy busy, and there is something brilliantly surreal about the setting. The views across the city are pretty much impossible to beat.

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3) The Miro foundation

Whilst you’re up in Montjuic, it’s well worth paying a visit to the Fundació Joan Miró. The art is big and bold and beautiful – just right to capture the imagination of a toddler. And as an added bonus there is a roof terrace with more wonderful views and the chance to get up close and personal with some striking sculptures.

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4) The cable car

If you’re still hankering after more views, the cable car back down the mountain is pretty special. I’d love to take Arthur back now that he’s babbling away – I’m so curious to know what was going through his mind as he stared wide-eyed at the world below.

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5) The Sagrada Familia

For something completely different, it’s well worth checking out Gaudi’s magnificent church – a masterpiece which is still under construction.

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From the outside it is unusual and impressive, and the soaring space of the interior is fantastic too. It is a welcome respite from the heat: Arthur was flaking as we waited outside, but soon perked up with the cool air and space to explore.

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Make sure you book tickets in advance to avoid the massive queues – you can do this online right up to the day of your visit and I would definitely recommend you do.

6) The Aquarium

More respite from the heat can be found at the aquarium down in the old harbour. It was crazy busy on the day we visited, but that didn’t bother Arthur: he was entranced by the different coloured marine life and would happily have stayed for hours if we’d let him.

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7) Parc de la Crueta de Coll

One other place that’s well worth a visit for some watery fun is the paddling pool in the old quarry at Parc de la Crueta de Coll. It’s a bit out of the town centre, but totally doable on the metro. You’re much more likely to be rubbing shoulders with locals than tourists, and for most toddlers it is a little slice of heaven.

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(I know he doesn’t look too happy in the second pic, but I think he was just in a deep state of relaxation: basking in the sun whilst standing chest deep in cool water.)

8) La Boqueria

After all you adventures, you are likely to be in need of some refreshment. Barcelona is awash with great tapas bars and restaurants of almost every variety you can imagine, but it is the markets I love most, and La Boqueria is my favourite of those.

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For little ones it is a feast for the senses: from fresh fish piled high to fabulous fruit to eat on the go. Definitely worth popping in, if only to soak up the atmosphere.

Even with all this, I feel like we have only scraped the tip of the iceberg of opportunities Barcelona offers for young families. It’s a good thing we’re going back in a couple of months: I cannot wait for more adventures – or for the blissfully deep sleep they inevitably induce.

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Country Kids from Coombe Mill Family Farm Holidays Cornwall

Brilliant blog posts on HonestMum.com

Mums' Days

Birthday fun with Thomas and Friends

It was Leigh’s birthday over the bank holiday weekend, and in true super-Dad style he declared that there was nothing he would rather do than go to the Day Out with Thomas at the South Devon Railway. Not only would this involve some serious steam train action, but all the trains were promised to be dressed up as characters from Arthur’s favourite books. And the ticket would give us access to the Totnes Rare Breeds Farm (which we’d visited before and loved) and the Butterfly Farm and Otter Sanctuary in Buckfastleigh (which I’ve wanted to explore for years).

We were all really excited about it, and looking forward to spending some quality time together as a family in the midst of Finals revision and election campaigning. Our day was very nearly scuppered when we had a massive leak after our morning shower (all sorted now, I won’t go into it…) but fortunately we decided to power through and make the most of the adventures that lay ahead.

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Arthur ran ahead as we approached the station, desperate to get to the source of the steam he could see through the trees. And when we got to the platform, the very first train he saw was his namesake! (At least I think it was the Arthur train – it certainly looked an awful lot like him) It was enough for our Arthur to be immediately entranced by the magic of it all. And ok, us too…

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The Arthur train was getting ready to leave, but as we’d just arrived we decided we’d pop over to the Rare Breeds Farm first to say hello to the animals. Arthur recognised the owl he’d met on the train platform before the season had properly started, and with his keeper’s encouragement went in for a very cute cuddle.

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After that there were goats to be stroked, a tractor to be driven and a cow to be milked – though it wasn’t long before Arthur’s attention wandered back to the trains.

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There was still a bit of time until the next train was due, so we took a look at the model railway. Arthur was fascinated by it, though it was all we could do to stop him from clambering up for a closer look!

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Then finally it was time to board a train and head for Buckfastleigh. We picked up a couple of books to add to Arthur’s Thomas collection at the stall on the platform, and he spent the journey reading those and waving at people out of the window.

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There was lots going on at Buckfastleigh: several more engines to admire, including Thomas himself, train tracks to play with and even a fairground ride!

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There were the otters and butterflies too, and they were amazing! The butterflies flying around the hothouse were pretty magical, but it was the cocoons that really stood out for me. I’ve never seen anything quite like it – from a distance the racks they were on looked like they were exhibiting an exotic range of jewellery, but as you got closer their real purpose became clear.

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Arthur didn’t quite understand what he was seeing. There was one slightly hairy moment when he reached out to touch and almost dislodged a whole row of chrysalises, but fortunately we got to him just in time!

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The otters were super cute, and looked like they were having lots of fun, which is always nice to see.

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After that it was almost time to begin the journey home, but not before sneaking in a ride on a vintage routemaster. It was almost enough to make me miss London! Though of course they don’t quite make them like that any more…

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That was enough to finish Arthur off. He was asleep before the end of our ten minute round trip, and stayed fast asleep until we were on the train back to Totnes.

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We said goodbye to Thomas for him though, and I have no doubt his dreams were full of wonderful things. There was certainly enough from our day out to keep him going for weeks!

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Country Kids from Coombe Mill Family Farm Holidays Cornwall

 

Home Sweet Home

This time last week, I was feeling a little sad to be home. We’d had a wonderful holiday with some much-needed quality family time, and I had once again been infected with the wanderlust that makes me want to see all of the corners of the world that I can.

This week, though, we have accidentally had the most wonderful time in our little town, and it has left me wondering why we need to travel at all when we have such a glorious place to call home.

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There is Berry Head, where we went last Sunday with my parents, my brother and his fiancee. Arthur was thrilled to see everyone after our trip away, and he had great fun flying his kite, doing impromptu yoga with Uncle Ash, and just enjoying the view.

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Then there is Breakwater beach. Our local beach. I honestly never thought I’d be able to say that! With the spectacular weather we’ve had this week it’s felt a little like a corner of the Caribbean at times. Arthur has continued on his mission to get every single stone from the beach into the sea, and we’ve enjoyed a picnic with friends as well as a sneaky takeaway, just the two of us.

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I’ve really become aware this week how many lovely people we’ve met in this town. It’s taken a while for us to really feel like we belong here: the first 18 months when both Leigh and I were working in Plymouth didn’t help, and even once Arthur had arrived and I began to spend a lot more time in Brixham settling in to a new town wasn’t easy. But this week both Arthur and I have had social calendars almost full to bursting, and I have realised that we both have genuine friends here now. Which is nice.

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Of course my latest venture – standing for election to Brixham Town Council – has made me feel even more as though I belong. It’s been brilliant getting out and about seeing people and places that are new to me, and so far the reception to my election campaign has been really positive. Mostly anyway – but that’s a topic for another post.

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For this one suffice to say that I have had a week which has left me loving Brixham even more than usual. Ten days post-holiday when I still lived in London I would have been yearning for escape, but right now nothing would pull me away from the place I am proud to call home.

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My word of the week this week is home.

The Reading Residence

Also linking up with this week’s prompt of ‘travel’.

mumturnedmom

The joy of sandcastles

For the last two summers, Arthur’s interest in sand hasn’t extended much beyond eating it. So you can imagine my relief (and Leigh’s delight) when on our recent holiday to Crete he began to understand the pleasure to be had from building castles in the sand.

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Many a day would begin with me lying back in the sun with a book (pretty much my idea of bliss) whilst my boys readied their tools and began the digging and water gathering and moulding that would culminate in a majestic castle.

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Arthur grew very attached to his little bucket and spade set, and would not go to the beach without it.

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He especially loved anything to do with water. He was fascinated by a little water wheel he found that became the mechanism for filling the channel to the moat, and very amusingly got attached to a broken bucket, not quite understanding why it was always empty when he returned from filling it up in the sea.

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I was not super keen on the whole getting covered in sand part, but I couldn’t resist getting involved at the exterior decoration stage. There’s something about moseying along at the water’s edge collecting pretty shells, stones and sea-worn glass that transports me right back to my childhood.

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And as for Leigh – he was there! Totally rapt in the task, enjoying the banter and admiration it invited from other dads. His piece de resistance was an Arthur-sized sand car, which drew quite a crowd of curious toddlers before being washed away by the sea.

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I think the inherent transience of sandcastles is a big part of their appeal – you’re working with what nature has to offer, albeit with the help of a few man-made tools, shaping it into structures that spark the imagination. And then before the next day comes the sea has reclaimed its wares, leaving behind a fresh slate for you to begin again.

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I have a feeling there will be many sandcastles in our lives this summer, and I’m looking forward to seeing what else Arthur and his daddy come up with…

 

Country Kids from Coombe Mill Family Farm Holidays Cornwall

Nuts on airplanes: what’s the big deal?

As our flight back to the UK prepared for take off on Tuesday, I was reassured by the now-familiar (to me) announcement that as there was a passenger on board with a severe nut allergy they would not be serving food containing nuts during the flight, and would appreciate it if other passengers refrained from opening any nut products they might have brought on board.

It’s the best I can possibly hope for when I have to fly, but I’m pretty sure most of my fellow passengers would have had no idea how important it was for me to hear those words. I can always sense a wave of incredulity pass over the cabin – sometimes people are vocal about it, calling the whole affair nonsense, but even when they stay silent I’m not convinced they really understand.

And why would they? If you (or someone you love) do not suffer from a severe food allergy then there is no reason for you to see why the prospect of being exposed to the allergen is quite so scary, or why that risk is amplified quite so much when flying. Making an announcement that impinges on the freedoms of other passengers might seem over the top, just health and safety gone mad. And that is why I have written this post.

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For me, there is nothing much more terrifying than the prospect of being trapped in a sealed metal box 40,000 feet in the air surrounded by several hundred people simultaneously opening packets of nuts. Because, like hundreds of thousands of other people in the UK, nuts are my Kryptonite: contact with just the smallest amount would put me at risk of becoming seriously ill or even dying as a result of anaphylactic shock.

Fortunately in the UK and Europe it is rare now for an airline to hand out free nuts to everyone on board. But nuts are still sold on most flights, and nuts are an increasingly popular snack option for health-conscious people to bring along themselves, so I don’t feel I can relax entirely.

Anaphylactic reactions to airborne nut particles are rare, but certainly not unheard of. There was a high profile case last summer where a four year old girl collapsed when a nearby passenger began eating a bag of nuts on their flight, and I have heard several similar anecdotes from people with nut allergies.

For my part, I have been in situations where I have been surrounded by nuts in a confined space and have begun to feel the tell-tale signs of the onset of a serious reaction: several times at bars or parties where bowls of peanuts sat on every table, and once on a ferry from Dar es Salaam to Zanzibar where the snack of choice for seemingly everyone on board was roasted cashews. On each of these occasions I have had a choice – to stand on the deck of the ferry, or to go to another bar – but if the tingling mouth and tightening throat began to set in on an aircraft there really wouldn’t be anywhere I could go.

So for me flying is about minimising risk. I try to only travel with airlines who will make the concessions that EasyJet did when we flew from the UK to Crete. For EasyJet, it is part of their policy, as it is for Flybe, WestJet and Icelandair, all people I have enjoyed flying with over the past couple of years. With many other airlines you are at the whim of the cabin crew as to whether they are prepared to take steps to make the flight safe. And with some, such as British Airways, their policy is the complete opposite: they categorically refuse to inform other passengers that there is someone with a severe allergy on board.

I had a particularly difficult experience four years ago, returning from honeymoon in Vietnam. We were travelling with Qatar Airways, and prior to our trip had gone through all the proper channels to ensure that I would not find myself in the nightmare situation I described above. Our outbound flight was perfect – a polite announcement was made, alternative snacks were served, and I filled in a glowing feedback form before leaving the plane. But in the two weeks we were away they changed their policy. On arriving at the airport in Ho Chi Minh we were told that it was now the decision of the crew whether or not to make concessions for my allergy, and that before I was allowed to board I would have to sign a disclaimer absolving them of any responsibility if I were to get ill or die on the flight. We didn’t have much choice at this point, so I figured I’d just have to hope the crew were understanding. As we boarded the plane I had the conversation, and they reassured me that they would not be serving nuts as snacks and would make the announcement to fellow passengers. Something was niggling at me, though, as we went to take our seats, and I asked what meal they were going to serve. Turns out it was Chicken Satay – so I would have to deal with the fragrance of warm, minced peanuts wafting through the cabin as everyone took the lid off their meal tray.

Needless to say we didn’t get that flight. There was of course no way they could have changed the meal at such late notice – though I had informed the airline of my allergy months before. So we booked into a hotel for another night, and tried to figure out some other way to get home. It was Eid, making getting hold of anyone at the Qatar head office almost impossible, but we eventually got reassurance that they would be able to fly us home the next day under the initial conditions we had agreed. Except when we were at the gate, just after the head of the cabin crew had sought me out and reassured me that he would be doing everything to make the flight safe, the pilot came over and told me that he wasn’t prepared to take the risk of transporting someone with a nut allergy and I was not allowed to board the plane.

We got home eventually, two days late for my new job, with another airline and at great expense. In the weeks that followed I tried to pursue compensation from Qatar, but they were unflinching in their conviction that they had done nothing wrong. I even looked into legal action, but was advised that any lawsuit would be very costly and due to the might of the airline’s legal team had little chance of success.

I was left feeling like I had been mistreated and ill-informed, and ultimately discriminated against because of my allergy. Recent rulings have decided that nut allergy can in fact be considered a disability, and thus discrimination against those who suffer from allergies should be treated as seriously as you would any disability discrimination. Yet a surprising number of airlines (and passengers) seem to feel that it is those who are asked if they could temporarily refrain from eating nuts that are being discriminated against – an attitude that the many similar stories from those with nut allergies attest to.

I don’t really understand why an airline would knowingly want to take the risk of someone going into anaphylactic shock on board one of their planes, or why they would want to make life more difficult for someone with a long-standing medical condition. In the States, where many airlines do still hand out free nuts to everyone on board, it is hard not to link the brick wall faced by passengers with allergies to the powerful lobbying groups attached to the multi-million dollar peanut industry.

I could never consider flying with an airline which still has nuts as an intrinsic part of its meal service. But even on airlines where my nightmare is less likely I have to be careful – after all, there is nothing to stop all of the passengers surrounding me deciding that they want to snack on nuts if there is nothing to indicate to them that this might be a bad idea. It is this situation that makes EasyJet’s approach so invaluable to me – I know they cannot guarantee me a completely nut-free flight, but I really appreciate the fact that they try their best to keep me safe.

I suppose ultimately for someone with a severe nut allergy, I really do have some cheek. Not only do I like to eat out from time to time, but I like to be able to travel to places that can only easily be reached by air. There are those who would say that, given my health condition, I should just avoid these experiences, but I beg to differ.

What do you reckon? Am I being unreasonable? Or do commercial airlines and their passengers have a responsibility to create an environment for travel that is safe for those with allergies? I’d love to hear your thoughts!

Postcards from Crete

Back in the days when meaningful communication was mainly written out by hand, I always managed to leave my postcards until the last day of the holiday. And even then they were lucky to escape without a UK stamp, sheepishly sliding onto the doormat a couple of days after I’d got home. In this digital age you’d have thought it might have been easier to stay in touch. I never actually meant to be quite so absent from the blog over this past week or so. But then I suppose that is the sign of a good holiday.

So here it is, our last night in Crete, and I find myself reflecting on the days we have spent here. On turquoise waters and dramatic clouds, on delicious food and wine and impeccable hospitality.

For me, the standout moments have been those when I have dived into the bracing sea, catching my breath after a few determined strokes to turn and gasp again at the snow capped mountains overlooking the beach.

The weather has not always been perfect, but Arthur has been undeterred from his ongoing stone-throwing mission, the skills perfected on the Devon coast making him at home on Cretan beaches and providing the ideal topic of conversation to bond with his fellow toddler travellers.

Leigh has excelled in making sandcastles. A talent that has lain dormant for many years, but one which I think we will all enjoy this summer.

We all took to Chania, with it’s ancient harbour and winding streets spilling out delectable seafood – quite literally at one point when we had to pause to allow an octopus to cross our path en route from water to table.

The list we had compiled in late night chats and perusals of the guide book of places we wanted to explore lay almost entirely untouched, but whilst there’s much we didn’t get to see we loved what we saw.

There will be more posts to follow once I’m back and settled into reflective mode, but for now suffice to say that the little corner of Crete we have experienced was well worth the travels. Hopefully we’ll make it back some time to see some more, but in the meantime here are some of the many moments we have enjoyed this time round.

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This week my word of the week is holiday.

(I might have been back for a few days now, but I’m still there in spirit)

The Reading Residence