Viva la Skeg-Vegas!

Heyy All, 

The last few weekends of stress, not one but two fastly approaching weddings and last weeks catering catastrophe; a weekend away was very much needed.

As yet, it is now over a week on, and still, there has been no contact made regarding the previous caterers. So unfortunately when detailing in last week's blog post that come today I was sure there would be more tea to spill and yet there is not. I have yet to receive a reply to my countless voicemails or emails or phone calls. I have tried to understand where they are coming from and the compromising position they must be in, however, whilst I can appreciate this I really don't think this is good enough and to have had no communication AT ALL since that moment on Bank Holiday Monday. Mr. Warehouse and I had just arrived and seated ourselves at the table ready for the meeting with them, only to then discover that email, and that was only by sheer fucking luck that Mr. Warehouse asked about the bar prices, otherwise I wouldn't have seen the email at all and we would have been sat there like fucking lemon's waiting. 

At no point have we had any phone calls or anything, despite being in contact with them very regularly over the last few months and weeks. After a full week of no contact and being ignored, I am struggling even less now to appreciate their predicament and my sympathy with the situation is slipping. Multiple discussions with friends and family all scrabbling around to help, I am not alone in believing that this is highly unprofessional.Whilst gratefully we have found other caterers now, I am still pissed off at their absolute lack of communication and seemingly professional or sympathetic approach to our situation.

So when few weeks ago it was Mr. Warehouse's birthday I couldn't think of anything more perfect than as part of one of his presents was a romantic weekend away. Paris? Venice? Rome? No, even better according to the future hubby-to-be ... The great British seaside with plenty of arcades, 2p's and a large helping of fish and chips on the beach. However, with places like Paris, Venice, and Rome still under Coronavirus travel restrictions, a lot of people were thinking the same and that a 2021 Staycation was the one!

So finding a reasonably priced hotel in Skeggy was hard, so I needed to search further afield. That's when I stumbled across The Kings Arms in Boston. No, not Massachusetts. Located just over 20-miles from Skegness, The hotel provided us with everything we needed including a restaurant and free WiFi, although we never actually used either. On Booking.com, the description goes on to say that guests can relax in the garden at the property, and with Grantham 31-miles away and Woodhall Spa is less than 15-miles there was plenty to do. The nearest airport is Humberside Airport, 43.5 miles from the accommodation.

But my fiance and I had plenty of things planned. After packing up the car and leaving home (albeit over an hour late due to Mr. Warehouse being essentially forced out on the road due to the lack of drivers in the warehouse) we headed to Momma's house just outside of Huntingdon in the Cambridgeshire countryside. Dropping off the dogs and making a swift departure we continued the two-hour journey to our final destination, The Kings Arms in Boston. FINALLY, I would have a weekend without Mr. Warehouse's damned fan blowing cold air throughout the night. I joked, pulling into the car park of the hotel, both Mr Warehouse and I exhausted from work and travelling that if there was a fan in the room he would be sleeping in another bed. I never thought he would take it literally though!

The bed and breakfast offered comfy rooms all well equipped with large flat-screen TVs capable of Netflix, Youtube, and catch-up. A small and if I am honest, dated en-suite private bathroom also said it came with a hairdryer and free toiletries although I never saw these. The shower was a little limescale-ridden, however, there were plenty of pillows for us only being a couple and sharing a quadruple room. The novelty of not having to share a double bed was appealing though and so we parted ways and headed to our separate beds. 

Waking on Saturday morning without the pitter-patter of tiny paws forcing you out of bed to let them out for a wee at 6am was a relief and I don't think it was until gone 9am when we eventually both rolled out of bed and downstairs for breakfast. Our table looked out over the river, one of the many waterways that peppered these parts of the Fens and directly opposite the hotel and filling our breakfast window was a beautiful windmill. But we couldn't stare at the beauty out the window all day; we had stuff to do. 

Located on North Parade, Skegness's Natureland is a Sanctuary dedicated to treating and returning seals to their natural habitat! On its website, Natureland says that since opening they have dealt with, and returned to the wild whenever possible, many unusual animal visitors including dolphins and whales, a “lost” walrus and pelican, plus numerous oiled seabirds and injured birds of prey! 

On our visit, walking around like it was a romantic date, that every year, particularly during the breeding season, seal pups are washed up on the beaches around Skegness, abandoned or separated from their mothers by the tides! The lucky ones are brought to Natureland’s Seal Hospital where they are cared for by dedicated staff members. However keepers tell tales of the real problem which is persuading the pup to eat, the pup suckles differently from other animals (such as cats and dogs) and they cannot be taught to suck from a bottle. With a little help for a week or two, they can swallow a few whole fish (known as sprats) which are about 3 inches long, something we were lucky to see on our visit in the warm sunshine. If all goes well the pups are moved into the Rearing Pool where they are taught to feed on fish in the water and gain the body weight they need to survive in the wild. Some months after joining us when the pup is fit, fat and healthy, it is returned home to the sea!

Other than that the weekend was eaten up entirely by long hours and many coins frittered away in the arcades, long walks down the beach sharing fish and chips (along with Mr Warehouse's first experience of scraps - Basically all the bits of batter and tiny chips that bubble around in the fat of the chip-shop), a trip to a local market and a very long journey home. We had fun and now with the new caterer sorted plus a few more things ticked off the wedding to-do list, it's onwards and upwards in the final few weeks countdown until I become a wife!!!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou x

Remember, if you would like to purchase anything then please feel free to check out my store at: https://www.etsy.com/uk/shop/Wooftys or visit our Instagram @WooftysDogTreats and use "TATOATS21" to get 10% off your first order over £15.00.

After the coldest winters come the warmest summers

Hello There, 

Yet again, I sit here and write to you as the sun shines on. Honestly, I am about 30-seconds away from me making myself a gin cocktail and sitting out in the sunshine to write this week. And following on from last week, the positivity and hopefulness continues, if not with a little uncertainty and confusion thrown in. Intrigued? Well, I cannot reveal all at the moment but I have a very interesting decision to make in the next few days, and hopefully by the time next week rolls around everything will have ironed itself out and I can let you in on my big secret plans!

I was hoping that since Prime Minister Boris Johnson's announcement that from Monday 12 April 2021, non-essential retail opens as well as beer gardens, I had hoped that this weekend I would have frequented one. But alas that is saved for this weekend when I get to finally catch up with some old work colleagues from my last job and maybe even Miss Hackney and Miss SugarCoat. I cannot think of anything better than some sunshine on my skin and a cocktail in my hand.

Speaking of which, Holidays?! Are they on the cards for Summer 2021 or not? If so where? and if not then should I book a Staycation instead?! A report by the BBC confirms that whilst all foreign holidays are currently banned, and returning travelers have to quarantine in a pricey airport hotel with no windows, transport Secretary Grant Shapps said: "people in England can start thinking about booking foreign trips again".

There have now been more than 33-million first dose vaccines being handed out and with many more in older generations having had both already. But what does this mean when it comes to jetting off abroad?

One way that will hopefully help travelers in making informed decisions about destinations and where is OK and where is not so OK is the idea of having a simple traffic light system. The BBC report states that details of the new traffic light system for England are expected in early May 2021 where there will be three categories -

Green: Passengers will not need to quarantine on return, but must take a pre-departure test, as well as a PCR test on return

Amber: Travellers will need to quarantine for 10 days, as well as taking a pre-departure test and two PCR tests

Red: Passengers will have to pay for a 10-day stay in a managed quarantine hotel, as well as a pre-departure test and two PCR tests. About 40 countries are on the current "red list"

Where a country is placed will depend on vaccinations, infection rates, how common Covid variants are as well as testing and sequencing capacity. But with so much confusion last year on what and why a country is red-listed, the government are keen to provide peace of mind and clarity as to the scenes last time around with the short notice in changing a countries status meant travelers had mere hours sometimes to pack up and head to the airports, only adding to the panic at resorts all over the world. There will be a "green watchlist", to give people notice if a country is about to move to amber or red.

However with consumer group Which? estimates each PCR test could cost about £120 per person making holidays totally unaffordable for the majority of normal people and members of the travel industry suggesting that holidays and travel will therefore only be for the rich and privileged in society. Some, along with myself, would argue the most affected in society are those on lower incomes and if you have been so lucky to have spent your lock-downs at your second home in Devon with a full range of amenities, a big garden, and room to move freely, then you should probably be considerate to the fact there are people who are maybe more deserving or needy of a break away; nurses, doctors, carers, lorry drivers, supermarket employees and key-workers.

While the earliest possible date for foreign travel was previously given as 17 May 2021 - Timings, destinations, and protocol have not been confirmed and so Thomas-Cooking-It is off the cards, for me at least until we have more clarity. I am itching to get out there into the big wide world and see more of it before I settle down. But with a bucket list of destinations as long as my arm (and probably longer), some upcoming life changes, and yet more sunshine on the horizon, there are just so many things to be positive about and look forward to!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou x

Remember, if you would like to purchase anything then please feel free to check out my store at: https://www.etsy.com/uk/shop/Wooftys or visit our Instagram @WooftysDogTreats and use "TATOATS21" to get 10% off your first order over £15.00.

Vacation Over: Officially time to return to knowing what day of the week it is!

Evening everyone, 

Crashing back down to earth I would sooner be writing to you all from the beach bar in sunny Marmaris, Orgasm in hand and cocktail menu not too far away than where I am now. But alas our "Up yours COVID" holiday had to come to an end soon and so I am here writing to you from a very dark, blackened Autumnal night with drizzly rain and cold weather that hamper my spirits. Now, where did I leave you all ...

So after booking some excursions and haggling down the price, we had indulged already in a traditional Turkish bath is otherwise known as a Hammam (again I urge you if you have yet to see some uncomfortable bathtime photos you should really head over to my social media, they're a right scream) and also sampled some of the best Turkey had to offer with a boat trip. However what was meant to be our wedding night had been messy, to say the least, not many cocktails consumed but nevertheless woke up with a sore head. 

You see it all started the previous evening when Mr Warehouse and I were trying to enjoy a nice steak dinner with each other at a time when we should have been dining on our wedding breakfast and dancing the night away with friends and family. As I have been doing throughout this holiday I was capturing our holiday and tonight was no different so as we grabbed our banana and strawberry daiquiris and posed for a selfie this strange man came out of nowhere and snatched my phone from out of my hands. Shocked I looked at him in absolute horror and disbelief as he placed the phone on the table and asked us to pose whilst he took a photo on his professional Canon. I was fuming and instantly it had ruined what was meant to be a happy moment in a bitter situation. 

Now it was more bitter than a lime that had been snubbed for an Oscar. The last few days have been wonderful and now this. Mr Warehouse was pissed and asked him what the fuck he was doing and to hand the phone back to me. He didn't. As Mr Warehouse, my knight in vest-tops and jean-shorts (not the hot pant kind don't worry), got up to grab my phone from just the other side of the table our Turkish answer to Annie Leibovitz snatched it back and attempted to take photos on it. This is when my Beau really lost his rag. He demanded that the blog give the phone back or he would knock him to the floor. I knew he meant it, despite being such a reserved character normally he could see it was upsetting me and obviously wanted to make things better. But it was too late, we were flat and done. As he shrugged his shoulders and walked off after handing back my phone I looked at Mr Warehouse. He was ready to walk out. We had full and overflowing frozen cocktails but he was millimetres from throwing in the towel and just walking off and I could see it. He was fuming. Seconds later the bread come out and we had to say something. 

The waiter apologized and explained it was a photographer from the strip that had nothing to do with the restaurant and was not affiliated. We explained the situation to both him and management and they seemed to take it seriously enough when we started we were seconds from walking out. Finishing our meal, however, we were brought a complimentary (although disgustingly toxic) shot of alcohol. Lord knows what the frick was in it, but it tasted like anti-freeze. And that's how we got talking to Mrs & Mrs Brave. 

Leaning over the Scottish wife and wife asked us if we knew what was in the virulent shot. We shook our heads but laughed along as we all swigged in unison. As we got up to leave they asked about what had happened and we gladly explained. Mrs & Mrs Brave explained that if we were looking for a good night out we should head over to "Talk of the Town" as they knew a lot of the locals and some of the lads in the show, one of the only one's still operating in the small tourist hotspot. And so on the authority of good advice from some lesbians, we had just met we headed on over and booked our tickets for the following night. 

And so following the football, Mr Warehouse and I spent the rest of the afternoon doing some more shopping (albeit stumbling around due to the intensity of said Orgasm cocktail) and hunting out fake goods at bargain prices was a breeze, including a Gucci scarf I am in love with for the upcoming season, a YSL glittery pink bag that screams "Clueless" or "Mean Girls" plus some cute Gucci sneakers a la Insta, Nike sliders for some poolside chic and a Gucci beach towel to make sure those Germans know we mean business with our sun loungers. Oh, did I say I liked Gucci? 

Once we had shopped until we dropped, we headed back to the hotel for a few drinks and a chill by the pool before heading out. And tonight didn't seem to be faring much better in the way of drinking as we donned our glad rags for one of the only shows still in town. "Talk of the Town" has been one of the most hilarious shows in Marmaris which dates back to 1996 with a cabaret that guarantees a humorous evening out filled with outrageous antics and laughs all round. And Mrs & Mrs Brave did not disappoint. I had been to one or two drag shows and nights in the past but honestly one of the best nights I think I have had in my entire life. With the lad(ies) belting out hits such as Disney's Frozen; Let It Go and Titanic's OST My Heart Will Go On by Celine Dion I was sure that I was being left with no voice tomorrow. Heck, they even put on a performance of Baby Shark halfway through which was a right roaring success, clearly among adults escaping the kids for a week or two. 

Mrs & Mrs Brave seemed to enjoy it too whilst we shared their table and got to know them a bit more. I thought to myself as I sat talking to these married women, maybe fifteen or twenty-years my seniors, how similar they are to myself and my very own lover. Like chalk and cheese one of us was singing our lungs out whilst the other tapped their foot along in appreciation. Both quite short and portly, one with dark short hair and the other long and greying blonde they spoke fondly of their daughter back home and son and his new wife out in Australia whom they seemed to miss deeply. I couldn't help but think that maybe for a night or two, we were the replacement family - And they treated us as such, even inviting us on a specially arranged boat trip with a local friend for a couple of evening's time, just the four of us so as to celebrate a wedding that never happened and I suppose a holiday friendship. My god, is this how it starts! 

Walking off after the show I was high on cocktails and my cheeks hurt from laughing (even if it was interrupted slightly by a brawl between two-lassies and their mom's beefing it out because someone was dancing to close to their table and you know, 2-Metres and all). This was insane. Swapping numbers Mr Warehouse and I made out way back to the hotel, laughing at the fact that one day were eating out at a crumby restaurant with basic steaks, the next were drinking in the company of some amazing Scots-women and in the next couple of days, we could be sharing their chartered Yacht around the small secret islands off Marmaris.  

The alcohol soon wore off though and as we awoke early the following morning, promises of not getting too drunk that night we slipped into our swimming gear for our Jeep Safari. Looking for some sheer adventure during our Marmaris holiday, Mr Warehouse had really run out of steam by the time our adventure awaited in the form of a Marmaris Jeep Safari. The day started off well enough with us shunning the fried breakfast offered by the pitstop and instead opting to hunt out a local corner shop for something fresher, an apple it was decided and a bottle of water. As we continued our journey, exploring the terrain around the countryside among the stunning Bozburun Peninsula and the Marmaris National Park all in military designed jeeps (ours was aqua coloured!) As the convoy of jeeps bombed it down the highway at full throttle we soon reached the well-beaten tracks that we struck at full force! 

As sold to us we were soaked by the time we came to our second stop of the morning, a small family-run resort, seemingly someone's home come pool, come shop, come cafe where we met the most adorable Akita pup, still teething and quite bitey at only a handful of weeks old. It took every ounce of Mr Warehouse and I not to smuggle him into said jeep and take him home with us. Heading to our next stop was Jesus Beach, jam-packing it in so you could walk the famous lake where the water was so shallow you could look like Jesus walking on water (although unfortunately thy hallowed had not been a visitor before) all before whizzing off for a basic yet tasty chicken and pasta salad lunch in a dusty layby hideout seeming for locals and probably home for them too. No rest for the wicked though as we were all frog-marched into the Jeep's for our next and final stop before home to the hotels - A beautiful natural spring pool and waterfalls, Turgut Falls, set deep in the forests outside of İçmeler to the west of Marmaris. 

As Mr Warehouse and I headed back to our plush and less dusty hotel for a shower and freshen up before dinner, we thought it a good idea to decline the invitation from Mrs & Mrs Brave. In the joyousness of the evening, I had instead taken their number and them not mine, therefore meaning unless we reached out we would be nothing more than a tale to tell. One of the reasons I couldn't fathom a private chartered sunset cruise on a Yacht was that it did simply seem too good to be true. We had only just met these people and as red flags go, not knowing their actual surnames is probably one of them. Now I am sure it would have been fine, however I have watched enough serial killer docu-films and read enough crime books on murder and homicide to know that this has "press conference to find our missing family members" all over it. Now I am almost certain as I write this that our Scottish lesbian holiday friends were just looking for some simple company to share their boat trip, celebrating a wedding that should have been and welcoming in a new friendship soley exisisting over social media with the odd Christmas card thrown in. But I just couldn't shake the feeling that Mr Warehouse and I knew nothing of them, barely where they were from or what their lives were like, and being on a boat in the middle of the ocean with no phone signal and no internets connection just screamed Channel 5 documentary with a grizzly end. 

Suffice to say the rest of our holiday was spent lazing by the pool, splashing around, drinking cocktails, reading a good book and of course some last minute spending, haggling (or at least Mr. Warehouse was, I seemingly, had lost my touch and couldn't haggle my way out of a paper bag) on hoodies and handbags we definatly didn't need. Leaving our luxe surroundings and comfortable hotel, our journey back home was not as eventful as the journey we started with however within moments of Mr Warehouse and I grabbed a bite to eat in the airport we had located out friends, brick-shit-house-Stormzy otherwise known now as BSS, Regina George and some other face from the Airport scrap that nearly happened on the way into our holiday. However, a couple of noted faces were missing including the someone impersonating Post Malone and the white portly gentleman resembling something from the Human-Centipede-2. We chose to believe that the threat about "meeting outside the airport" was true and it had all ended in hideous bloodshed and we would hear all about it when we got home, which of course, never actually happened. Landing on a darkened and drizzly Thursday morning at 1am I was ready for bed and excited to be soon at home with our fur babies - Oh and our Fourteen-day self-isolation to begin!!! 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

A Good Way To Waste Time

Afternoon All, 

I know a day early but the Arsenal game is on and better to do it now than try to find good WiFi tomorrow. 

Boarding the plane on a grey and drizzly Wednesday afternoon I was excited to be soon at our 4-star adults-only spa hotel, the most stars I think I have ever stayed in, considering normal holidays are a little more conservative and less flamboyant. Less than ninety-minutes into take-off there was trouble afoot as a girl in her early twenties (the kind that at school would bully you and make you cry for the way your face looked, only to message you a few years later after seeing you grow into an acclaimed MUA and asked for a freebie because "we were friends at school") refused to wear a face covering and started spouting off to customers. Then a Stormzy-esk Black man, built like a brick shit house stood up and proclaimed something I wish I had heard if it wasn't for my ears not popping. Things seemed to quieten down, but not for long as there was another flare-up, again between Regina George and another flyer, an older woman who seemed to disagree with Regina about the fact that her sleeping eye mask was hardly a good face covering. In her defence, however, I must admit that the thick fluff and layers of material would in actual fact be probably a darn sight better than those some others were wearing on board. 

Nevertheless, agreeing to disagree on the scientific evidence behind facemasks and the prevention of spreading Coronavirus was not on Regina's radar and instead, she proceeded to launch herself over the back of her seat and touch the disagreeing women. This was all too much for everyone and instantly there were lots of people who had needed to "use the bathroom" in order to get a better view or had put down their books or paused the movie in order to tune into what was evidently a much better episode of drama than anything by Jilly Cooper. Airhostess' calming things down it put a patch over the gaping wound until another passenger made a complaint about another for not wearing her face covering whilst drinking. This, in turn, turned into a heated debate with the airline staff about what is an acceptable amount of time to not wear a face mask if you are sipping a gin and tonic. The airline did all they can but soon the slanging match started and I really thought that at this rate the plane will be diverted and I will be called tomorrow by The Sun to see if I have any video evidence of "Karens" in action. 

On landing, it didn't get much better as waiting for mine and Mr Warehouse's luggage a fight broke out between brick-shit-house-Stormzy, someone impersonating Post Malone and another would-be rapper and a white portly gentleman resembling something from the Human-Centipede-2. And all because someone pushed in front of someone else to collect their bags. A few words were said (I think one of them had called him a paedo) and before I knew it brick-shit-house-Stormzy had Human-Centipede-2 almost flat out on the floor. I expected something racist to come out, however, Mr Warehouse, who was in the thick of it on the front line assures me nothing of the kind was uttered. Threats to "meet me outside and we will see" were shot, however, Mr Warehouse were tired and despite the extended episode of Easyjet-Oaks, we had a transfer to get to, all in the hope that neither of that episodes characters would be present on our bus. 

Arriving at our hotel it was late, past midnight and we were shattered from the nigh-on four-hour flight, Airport dramas and two-hour transfer. Our hotel was everything we expected and more. The Poseidon Hotel had even switched out our rooms for an upgraded front aspect room with a view of the sea and a balcony to enjoy the view on, albeit when it wasn't pitch black. The air conditioning was much appreciated and the complimentary fruit bowl and bottle of red wine was a sweet touch, even though we were a little confused at first if it was a gimmick in order to get us to spend more money and charge us. 

Waking in the morning, sunlight streaming in through the window I rose and looked out at probably one of the most incredible views I have had from any hotel window since Vegas back in 2015. It was just beautiful with the pointed mountains surrounding the Mediterranean resort town of Marmaris. I could certainly understand why this was labelled as the Turkish Riviera, squinting as the Turquoise Coastline glittered in the morning sunshine. Looking down from our third floor I could see the palm tree-lined sea promenade and pebbly sand beach, perfect for just getting away from it all. Heading out after breakfast Mr Warehouse went to explore, although not before the hotel had a chance to have a "meeting" with us. Basically, it was a tour operator who obviously got some sort of commission from upselling over-priced excursions and day trips to holiday-makers who are still weary from their travels and have not had a chance to explore the local area for other prices yet, ultimately taking advantage and exploiting the unaware traveller(s). 

We booked some excursions and haggled down the price, scouted out the shops and dabbled in the bargains to be had and how much you could haggle a man down by for a pair of sunglasses. Mr Warehouse had made me so proud. After all the years of knowing him and his constant shame in me asking for a discount or using money off codes and vouchers, the many Youtube videos of Asian fake markets and vlog-hagglers had paid off. Walking into the shop and watching from afar it was clear to see he was a man about to do business on his terms. Selecting a pair of sunglasses and eyeing up (pun intended) a second pair the shop keeper unveiled the price; four-hundred Turkish Lira, roughly equivalent to £40.00. Fake Oakley red and black wrap-around sunglasses and some classic RayBan wayfarers. Not worth it. 

Mr Warehouse laughed nervously as he said it was too much and offered half. A bold move I thought to go in at half the cost. The shop keeper seemed to think so and offered a slightly lesser amount, hoping my fiance would crumble. Nope. Sticking to his guns Mr Warehouse proceeded to tell the man what he wanted to pay and not a penny more. Walking out proved a successful ploy as immediately, almost too easy the shop keeper folded and accepted the half-price offer of two-hundred Turkish Lira, roughly equivalent to £20.00. I was like a mum on school photo day, so proud and urging him to do more so I can see the pro at work. 

That afternoon we went back to the hotel and after awaking from our afternoon nap Mr Warehouse had some bad news. The UK government had listed Turkey as a no-go-zone and from Saturday morning at 4am would impose a fourteen-day quarantine rule on anyone returning from the country. Annoyed and frustrated, we had a couple of options, either pack up where we were right now and try to phone the airline and travel company in order to see if we can get an alternative flight back before the cut-off time, or stick it out and suffer the cost implications. We chose the latter, although when faced with flights of £900+ each for a rescheduled flight home less than 24-hours after arriving, there wasn't much of an option. We knew that this may have been a risk when departing however with my work being possible to do from home, it wouldn't be a huge dip in income, and we could always make ends meet with savings if we really needed to. 

And so we stayed. The last few days have been wonderful; A traditional Turkish bath is otherwise known as a Hammam (although anyone who follows me on social media will know the hilarity of the tale behind this experience as we were ambushed by the spa photographer as if that is even a thing for an impromptu photoshoot; noting in the photos posted the absolute terror in my eyes as he poked his head around the corner just as mere bubbles hide our modesty). Yesterday on our would-be wedding day (the whole reason we took this damned holiday) we also sampled some of the best Turkey has to offer with an excursion we just couldn't miss out on all aboard a boat. 

I awoke that morning and for a short while forgot what the date was and what the day should have meant. I should have been donning a white dress and marrying the man of my life but instead it was going to be very different for all sorts of reasons, but now the date had arrived there was a mixture of emotions bubbling away. I was sad for our day not being when it was meant to and upset I did not wake up with my girls and get ready together, friends and family dropping by to wish me well and tell me to "hurry the fuck up". I was disappointed I couldn't have danced the night away with loved ones and frustrated I still have yet to start the rest of my life as Mrs Barlow. But the day was not all lost as we boarded our vessel for a beautiful island tour boat trip. 

Setting sail from Marmaris harbour, we stopped for a swim break off the coast of the rocky mountain islands Mr Warehouse and I had seen from our hotel balcony. I was brave enough to take a dip, but not as brave as some people, diving in from the side of our ship. A while later we arrived just off Dalyan where lunch was served as a fish or chicken dinner and once finished we were transferred to small wooden boats to cruise on the seas surrounding the infamous Turtle Beach where three different types of turtle come to lay their eggs and where the salty seas meet the fresh waters of the African Queen, a reed-filled riverbank giving the feels of Floridian swaps and marshlands similar to that of the Everglades, I imagine. 

Continuing our journey we sailed past the Temple Tombs carved into the mountainside and said to house the dead of rich and famous of centuries gone by and their Egyptian slaves and into Dalyan, a town on the Dalyan River, just inland from Turkey's southwest coast. Sailing further on to the northwest on the Dalyan shore of Lake Köyceğiz is the village of Sultaniye, known for its thermal mud baths. There Mr Warehouse threw caution (and some mud) into the wind and immersed ourselves in the therapeutic natural clay masks and thermal springs before heading back to the ship for home and a night out on the tiles. 

So far our holiday has been everything we wanted and more. Granted I will need to work from home once back and I might regret coming in a few months time if bills are tight because of our frivolous trip but sitting here having my fourth Orgasm (not actual, obviously I'm in public) in a row doesn't feel like a bad way to spend some time with my future husband. Now where's that cocktail menu again ... 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Hand(luggage), Face(mask), Space(-d out sun loungers)

Heyy Heyy, 

Following on from last weeks McDonalds brekkies, Bottomless brunches and heavenly crepes, I have not exactly been going in the right direction when it comes to my newly started Slimming World Journey. I get that everyone has put on a pound (or twelve) during the whole Lockdown thing, however I think if anything, and maybe it is the age thing talking now - I just dont give a fuck. I enjoyed last weekend so much so I think I have realised that yes, whilst I, like most people, need to eat more fruit and veggies and maybe move a bit more, I enjoy food and I dont want to be sat in a room of people every Tuesday evening clapping for Brenda or someone else who lost half a pound. I wanna be boosting Brenda up and telling her I fricken love those sweatpants she is rocking or how she has her hair today. I want to be around empowering women and not making them feel bad that they fell off the wagon a few days in a week and had a damned KitKat. And so I think when I return from my holiday (less than 48-hours to go and counting) I will rennounce all Slimming World visits only goign in for the bare minimum whilst I see out my remaining week's I have pre-paid for, checking in on my ever fluctuating weightloss. 

And sowith less than eight hours of work to go, the countdown is well and truely on. As I had explained last week, my finaly year of my twenties I want to do stuff, see stuff, visit places and just tell Corona to do one. COVID-19 really has fucked everything - Weddings, Work/Life balance, Halloween, Career, Parties and social activities, even holidays - Or so I thought before I got the most incredble present I think anyone could get on their birthday - A FUCKING HOLIDAY! This time next week ladies and gentlemen get ready to be green with envy as I will be 2,393 miles away from here in Marmaris, Turkey. 

Flying out Wednesday, Mr Warehouse and I will be leaving our pups behind to play with their sister (Frankenstien's Pup-Sister) and Momma Warehouse AKA 'Grandma' for a whole week with friends and family dropping by throughout the time I am sure. Jetting off to the Mediterranean resort town along the Turkish Riviera, also known as the Turquoise Coast, Marmaris is a dreamy location with pebbly beaches and long seafront promenades, perfect for just getting away from it all. The seaside, tourist hotspot is known for its lively nightlife on Bar Street which is home to open-air clubs and music venues, however from some of the YouTube videos and vlogs we have watched over the last fortnight or so, most of them seem closed. Marmaris sits in a valley between pine-forested mountains and clear waters, which are popular sailing and diving destinations, something Mr Warehouse and I are hopihn we might be able to find an excursion or two.

Our hotel is to die for as well. Situated right on the beachfront sea lapping up against your toes, The Poseidon Hotel offers a private beach area with a jetty and free sun loungers, parasols and cabanas beds. The hotel has both an indoor and outdoor pool as well as a Turkish bath, sauna and a fitness centre. All room are beautifully carpeted throughout and what looks like marbled stone private bathrooms with a hairdryers, free toiletries and everything else you could possibly need for your stay. Air conditioning as an absoloute must for Mr Warehouse after several dodgey budget hotels with little or none and I am sure that the TV and minibar will be put to good use also. 

With the All Inclusive menu there will be plenty to pick from I am sure, or maybe something à la carte where Mr Warehouse and I can enjoy selected dishes from Turkish and international cuisines. If we fancy it Marmaris city centre is less than a two-mile walk from the hotel with plenty more options for food and nightlife. According to Booking.com, "according to independent reviews, this is guests' favourite part of Marmaris and Couples particularly like the location rating it 8.9 for a two-person trip." so I am positive we will have a good time and with Free WiFi available throughout the hotel I am sure you will all be getting sick and tired of my constant 'Gramming by Thursday Morning. 

Oh and did I mention - Its adults only! No screaming Wayne's around poolside wanting their fifth ice-cream in a row. No crying Abigail because she cant use the Hammam mud chambers. No silly slides or water fountains (although not going to lie, probs gonna miss that myself). So grab your overpried straw sun hat from Accessorize and the Haviana's you bagged from your bestie when she was having a clear out and let get our holiday on!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

The next sands I feel between my toes ...

Evening, 

And so back down to earth and to the "new normal", or in our instance, just the plain old normal from before, just with the added holiday blues. Last week I wrote to you from our holiday chalet caravan in Newquay. This week I write to you from my desk, or at least what can be called my desk, in my spare room listening to the rain in the background as Mr Warehouse watches some loud twenty-something Youtube Vloggers loudly discussing their sexual exploits and prowess. 

After Monday's visit to Cornwalls pride, Healey's Cyder Farm (and after spending a small fortune on apple juice, cider, chutneys and jams) Tuesday was a more relaxing day out to St. Ives, just a few miles down the north coast of Cornwall. Known for its surf beaches (and I mean isn't everywhere in Cornwall), its art scene is just as prominent. The seafront Tate St Ives gallery has modern art exhibitions focusing on British artists and outside in the harbour isn't any different with many an art shop or small independent gallery. And if the beaches and harbours weren't tickling your fancy you could always take a stroll through the nearby Barbara Hepworth Sculpture Garden. However, Mr Warehouse and I did not nearly get into an argument on the train with a local "Asthmatic" over not wearing a face-covering for nothing (from Monday 15 June 2020 everyone must wear a face covering when travelling by public transport in England - Unless you have a valid exemption certificate of which my fiance had. Me, on the other hand, kept quiet and hoped she wouldn't start on me). 

Oh no. We were stomping down to the jetty to board a vessel that would take us to sea so we could fish. On the website where we (I) booked, StIvesFishingtrips.com, they say that the St Ives bay is by far "your best chance to catch mackerel in the summer months as it is and has been a mackerel hot spot for years" and to be fair to them, that it was. 

As well as mackerel we were expected to also catch other species including Cod, John Dory, Red Gurnard, Scad, Pilchards and Haddock for your tea, or not. Our trip was only 1 hour & 30 minutes in total and once we hit open ocean we didn't have to travel far and were fishing within 5 minutes. As the only full-time fishing boat in St Ives, Mr Warehouse and I expected to be coupled up with maybe one or two other couples, possibly even just ourselves given it was still early days of everything being back up and running after the pandemic, however, with our friendly but firm deckhands we had the best experience of sea fishing. And with a little help and using top of the range rods and reels I was even able to catch something. Although as our bucket filled and my future hubby and I waited for the deckhands to un-hook all of the fish (so no risk of hooks in hands which are very painful as I experienced a little prick from one) I could feel my insides squirm a little as I watched the fish gasp for air and thrash around in their final moments. I can and could understand why some people would not feel comfortable with this and whole-heartedly would be against it altogether, however, with the boat able to take up to 10 passengers I would certainly do it again and almost 100% so with kids in-toe too, moreso to teach them of life and death and the circle of life and where we all come from and that shit. Well, that and free food!

And although we never got to go to Seal Island, just west of town, to see the seal colony, we were greeted when we came back into harbour with a friendly sea-doggo. As we carried our 8 fish out of the harbour (you think that's a lot, we caught over 14 although Mr Warehouse didn't want to being any home so I thought 8 was a compromise) we felt tired and ready for home time. 

Wednesday was a day out for all the family (not that the dogs couldn't have come with us on the boat, they could have, however an inquisitive labrador and rambunctious puppy was the last thing I think anyone needed on board - Maybe next time pups). Land's End. An area of beautiful scenery and cliff faces, Ocean views for days, Lands End Landmark is a headland in western Cornwall, about eight miles west-south-west of Penzance. To the south of it is the English Channel, and to the North, the Celtic Sea. Out to the East is the rest of England and out to the West was the Atlantic Ocean. Unfortunately, it was a really foggy day and on leaving Newquay I was annoyed I may not see much and it would be a wasted trip, however, on arrival, it seemed pleasant enough. With miles and miles of open land to walk and crags to investigate it would have been perfect a few years ago, but sadly our older pooch just isn't up for walking that far now. But she did manage up to the tea room for a Hot Chocolate and some more photos. It was quite warm to be honest as well, as it had been most the week, overcast but warm. As we sat and admired the beauty I thought about how lucky I was and grateful I am of the dogs, sitting nicely and patiently waiting whilst we finished our beverages, ready for the next adventure, albeit back to the car. 

Thursday we packed up, sadly so but also looking forward to getting home and to our own comfy beds, and after a pit stop to the Newquay Riding Stables at Trenance Stables, a holiday staple now every time I visit Cornwall. Riding out along the River Gannel estuary, sandy mud bog under hoof I felt at ease and wholly relaxed. I wish it could never end, but it had too and as we trotted back into the stables I thanked the staff once again for an incredible experience riding out along the sand dunes and rivers, I just wish our little ones could join us by the hooves, riding out as many hounds and horses have done over the years. 

As lunchtime approached, Mr Warehouse drove us all back to Newquay to dine on fish and chips by the seafront. Looking out over the beach I became emotional. I thought back to the horrible moment I had to drop our Golden Oldie off at the Vet's before her emergency Pyometra operation a few years back and how I whispered in here ear flaps, soft and blonde, "I promise we will bring you to Newquay one day so you can feel the sand between your toes and run and play on the shoreline." My thoughts then turned to the fact that here we were and that the next time Mr Warehouse and I visited, maybe even to the same bench, it would not be with her at our feet. Swiping away a tear and sharing my last fish and chip scraps between the two pups, I was sad to be leaving but excited too as it meant we were just that little bit closer to our wedding. 

After a short run along the beach and a play in the wet sands it really was time to leave and as we buckled the pair of them into the back seat, boot filled to the brim, Mr Warehouse started our journey home. Six-and-a-bit hours there and just over five-hours back wasn't bad going. For the short term, we will have our fudge and rock, jams and cider, but until we meet again beachy shores. I suppose thinking about it our next beachy holiday will be our Honeymoon!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

The UK's Independence Day

Hello, 

After being back at work now for coming up to a fortnight tomorrow with our "new normal", it sufficient to advise that not much has changed, and you can take from that what you will. My god though, I am certainly glad to have a break from the office next week. 

As we enter our fifteenth week of lockdown in the UK the 100-days mark has well and truly been and gone. Like the springtime we missed, the UK is slowly blooming again with business and social activities being reopened within the next week in most if not all areas of England with Scotland and Wales to follow suit soon after I expect. With figures from the BBC released today confirming that just 25 people recorded in the last 24 hours have passed away from Coronavirus (Monday 29 June 2020) it is looking like we are over the worst of it. 

As explained before, the disease COVID-19, was first confirmed in the UK at the end of January, however, the number of daily confirmed cases and related deaths only began to soar significantly by the second half of March and after lockdown restrictions came into force at the end of that month, numbers came to a peak mid-April, falling steadily ever since. The BBC confirms though that some of these deaths "are likely to include people with undiagnosed coronavirus or those who died as an indirect result of the pandemic. Coronavirus accounted for about 11% of all deaths in the UK in the week to 12 June, according to death registration data - a drop from 14% the previous week. In the week to 17 April, when deaths from the virus reached their peak, this figure was just under 40%."

Whilst this may be true and the scaremongering continues, I received a good news phone call last week that was certain to brighten any dreary news Mr Warehouse and I was to see. Several months ago in what can only be described as a wet and uneventful January, I wrote New Year, Newquay. Now normally at that time of year I would be gearing myself right up for convincing Mr Warehouse to save up and go on a beachy break away somewhere teasing him with thoughts of eating out every night, romantic boat trips and cocktail hour all hours. But as the holiday adverts rolled round on Telly and Jess Glynn sang about holding your hand on the Thomas Cook film (RIP), this year Mr Warehouse put his foot down and said we would not be going. His words were "we have a wedding to pay for" and mine was "Pleeeeease". Whilst he had a point, with less than nine months to go until the big day, I really wanted to beach it up somewhere and enjoy the last holiday on my Passport as a 'Miss', besides I didn't even get to take my engagement ring with me. 

So with Mr Warehouse not wanting a holiday at all and me craving something remotely similar to Malaga (minus the skin cancer-inducing sunburn) I knew he wouldn't be able to resist me mentioning a holiday to Cornwall. One of his favourite places, we hadn't been back there [Newquay] since a family wedding several years ago and both of us had missed it ever since. The following year after visiting for said wedding, our Older pooch got poorly with her Pyometra and we promised her as we went to Vet appointment that we would take her there one day to feel the sand between her paws. Now whilst she has since been to Great Yarmouth and Bournemouth on little holibobs, Newquay holds something special for Mr Warehouse and I both, something we want to share with our fur babies, old and new. 

With little resistance, I convinced Mr Warehouse to book off a week and head down to the English Riviera. After much hunting and scouring the web for the best deal, I found the perfect pre-wedding-moon! Boasting a bar and free WiFi, Retallack Resort & Spa was situated in Padstow, just 10 miles from Newquay's beautiful beaches. There is a restaurant serving British cuisine, and free private parking is available. However, at close to £300 the £40 per dog per stay was a little too steep and instead, we decided to park that property for another visit. If only it wasn't a four-odd hour journey that would have been the ideal and perfect place to wake up as a newly-wed. Oh well, I am sure I can make an excuse to make a trip down that way for a stay. And so Mr Warehouse and I settled with a stay at the Ladyevelyn situated at the heart of the Newquay Bay Resort. Just two miles from Newquay this peaceful holiday park is set in a peaceful valley, amongst the surrounding countryside, allowing us as guests to enjoy the best of both worlds. The Newquay Bay can cater to all of our needs with fantastic facilities including bar, heated indoor and outdoor pools, sauna and steam rooms and excellent entertainment. 

Less than a mile to the nearest beach (Porth Beach) our holiday chalet, Ladyevelyn, offers accommodation with WiFi, private parking and puppies can come - Free. Of. Charge. Each static caravan has a fully equipped kitchen with a microwave, a fireplace, a seating area with a sofa, a flat-screen TV and a private bathroom with a shower and a hairdryer. A fridge, an oven and stovetop are also offered, as well as a kettle and a coffee machine. A bicycle rental service is available at the reception and with more beaches to explore including Lusty Glaze and Tolcarne Beach within a few minutes it isn't hard to see why we chose it. 

So last week as I sat at my desk my mobile buzzed with a phone call from a number I didn't recognise. Answering I was introduced to an older sounding gentleman who said he owned the Chalet that we were going to be staying in. Explaining that since the Government had announced last week that pubs, restaurants and holiday accommodation could open as of July the 4th he was calling to confirm the booking. Ecstatic we chatted for a little while as I learnt that him and his wife were newly semi-retired and had just celebrated their golden wedding anniversary, celebrating earlier in the year with a cruise around the Caribbean, just in time to come back to this mess we call Corona! Asking what time we would like to arrive I asked what would be the earliest as Mr Warehouse and I was hoping to travel down in the wee-small hours of Sunday ready to make the most of our trip. 

As I waited with bated breath, the Chalet owner explained that this wouldn't be a problem since him and his wife had been living there throughout the COVID19 pandemic but would be moving out as of the Saturday night and with the place ready for us as early as we could get there Sunday morning. Sounded blissful, apart from the nigh-on six-hour drive! Finally we could relax and as I bid the owner a farewell down the telephone (he had to get back to work driving the buses around Cornwall) I couldn't contain how excited I was. 

Finally, I can now visit Bodmin Jail (since we couldn't do that on our last trip), maybe a visit to Lands End and 100% going back to the horse riding place for a gallop across the sands. To think that my little Frankenstein has never experienced sand in between his little webbed toe-beans (feet/paws). I suppose its the best of both worlds - One didn't want a holiday, the other wanted a normal beach abroad holibob - A happy compromise, something we will have to learn as a newly married couple .. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

New Year - Newquay!

Hello, 

Sunshine hitting my face and my thighs getting warm. Oh, how I missed the feeling of the beach and summer holidays. Normally I would be gearing myself right up for eating out every night, romantic boat trips and cocktail hour all hours, however, this year Mr Warehouse put his foot down and said we would not be going on holiday this year with his words being "we have a wedding to pay for" and whilst this is true, with less than nine months to go I really wanted to beach it up somewhere and enjoy the last holiday on my Passport as a 'Miss'. 

So with Mr Warehouse not wanting a holiday at all and me craving something remotely similar to Malaga (minus the skin cancer-inducing sunburn) I knew he wouldn't be able to resist me mentioning a holiday to Cornwall. One of his favourite places, we hadn't been back to Newquay since a family wedding several years ago and both of us had missed it ever since. The following year after visiting for said wedding, our Older pooch got poorly with her Pyometra and we promised her as we went to Vet appointment after Vet appointment that we would take her there one day to feel the sand between her paws. Now whilst she has since been to Great Yarmouth and Bournemouth on little holibobs, Newquay holds something special for Mr Warehouse and I both, something we want to share with our fur babies. 

With little resistance, I convinced Mr Warehouse to book off a week and head down to the English Riviera. After much hunting and scouring the web for the best deal, I found the perfect pre-wedding-moon! Boasting a bar and free WiFi, Retallack Resort & Spa was situated in Padstow, just 10 miles from Newquay's beautiful beaches. There is a restaurant serving British cuisine, and free private parking is available. All units at the Spa Hotel Resort came overlooking the gorgeous lakes and grounds and each boasts a kitchen with plenty of amenities including microwave and tea and coffee making facilities. A private bathroom boasts complimentary toiletries and a luxurious soft bed. The seating area and a flat-screen TV are also appreciated by guests staying not to mention the fact that doggies can come too! However, at close to £300 the £40 per dog per stay was a little too steep and instead, we decided to park that property for another visit, choosing to spend a little on a cheap break away and enjoy our Honeymoon more. If only it wasn't a four-odd hour journey that would have been the ideal and perfect place to wake up as a newly-wed. Oh well, I am sure I can make an excuse to make a trip down that way for a stay. 

And so Mr Warehouse and I settled with a stay at the Ladyevelyn situated at the heart of the Newquay Bay Resort. Just two miles from Newquay this peaceful holiday park is set in a peaceful valley, amongst the surrounding countryside, allowing us as guests to enjoy the best of both worlds. The Newquay Bay can cater to all of our needs with fantastic facilities including bar, heated indoor and outdoor pools, sauna and steam rooms and excellent entertainment. 

Less than a mile to the nearest beach (Porth Beach) our holiday chalet, Ladyevelyn, offers accommodation with WiFi, private parking and puppies can come - Free. Of. Charge. Each static caravan has a fully equipped kitchen with a microwave, a fireplace, a seating area with a sofa, a flat-screen TV and a private bathroom with a shower and a hairdryer. A fridge, an oven and stovetop are also offered, as well as a kettle and a coffee machine. A bicycle rental service is available at the reception and with more beaches to explore including Lusty Glaze and Tolcarne Beach within a few minutes it isn't hard to see why we chose it. 

Finally, I can now visit Bodmin Jail (since we couldn't do that on our last trip), maybe a visit to Lands End and 100% visiting the horse riding place to go galloping across the sands. To think that my little Frankenstein has never experienced sand is going to be entertaining and sweet to watch as well.

The best of both worlds I suppose. One didn't want a holiday, the other wanted a normal beach abroad holibob - A happy medium being a few days in Cornwall, visiting family, eating and drinking out, maybe a sesh and some lovely walks on the beach with our pooches. What could be better?

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx