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

Życie dobrze podróżowane (A Life Well Travelled)

Hi, 

Setting off from home the whole family had turned out to see me off, although I think the older one had got a bit bored and headed off down the street, probably to take a shit in one of the neighbour's front gardens. Cuddles with my Frankenstein only made me remember the moments we had shared over the weekend as we had taken our first puppy swim class together and he had done so well. Kissing and hugging Mr. Warehouse I was sad he was not coming as well but would love the moment I came home to him and the puppies. Heading down back home I popped by my Scottish grandmother to say hello, as I did with my Auntie and Uncle. I finished off by settling into Nanny Pumpkins, roast lamb dinner and a period drama I was tired and knowing the early start I was ready to bed down. 

Falling asleep quickly on her Sofa I remembered the last time I was on there and it was not a favourable circumstance. I must say it was not the best night's sleep and I was absolutely nackard when I was awoken at 4.30am to my dearest Nanna asking if I was going to stay there all day or if I wanted to go on holiday. Make-up done and hair in a Halloween scrunchie, I was ready and so was the taxi! The airport was pretty clear, as I would normally expect, so arriving nearly three-hours before our flight seemed futile, but nevertheless, it allowed us time for some overpriced breakfast and coffee and a nice chat. The flight was easy enough and as normal, despite the time, I treated myself to some champagne and nibbles. The flight itself I expected would have been busy but in actual fact was so empty most of the wing seats had only one person in them, something I know as a fact Mr. Warehouse would have appreciated and been the first to jump into given half the chance.  

Arriving and getting through the airport and city to our hotel was a breeze as Nanna had opted for a private transfer, something which was deemed a luxury for Mr. Warehouse and me when we are travelling. The hotel is lovely and is situated in a historical building, in the heart of Kraków’s Kazimierz - the former Jewish district. Within walking distance of the Old Town and the historical Wawel Castle the heated and air-conditioned rooms at Hotel Kazimierz are well-appointed including a private bathroom with a shower and a toilet, as well as satellite TV and free Internet access. We have yet to spend our first night hear obviously and have yet to sample the breakfast buffet which is available every morning, however, I am sure to enjoy a morning coffee, and maybe a cheeky cigarette on our balcony overlooking the back streets of Kazimierz.  With the hotel's jazzy wallpaper and random decor choices, its offering is good for any traveller, couple, single or family with a 24-hour front desk, as well as airport shuttle and free of charge luggage storage. 

I get the feeling, especially so when Nanny and I went to explore the hotel and the "breakfast balcony" where the morning meal would be served. Stepping up the small flight to the balcony I looked around to see plenty of tables and chairs. However, looking over the balcony and peering down to what can only be described as more restaurant seating areas, covering what would maybe be a dance floor I felt as though the building could tell some dark tales. Staring down I had visions of the family running and hiding or trying desperately to escape as German troops and officers stormed the building, as they had done with the whole street I imagine, marching the men outside, never to be seen again and leaving the rest of them to only wonder what next. It gives me chills to think about what happened here but I feel as I did when Mr. Warehouse and I stayed in a hotel in Newquay for one of his cousin's weddings and the feels and creeps I got from that place, only to discover its tragic past of the Hotel Victoria. 

I am sure I will get many more feelings like that, but for now, I am absolutely shattered and after a ravishing meal, I am sooo ready for bed. Tomorrow we visit the Jewish areas of Krakow and attend the Schindler Tour. Escape2Poland explains that "you will be guided around the former Jewish district of Krakow seeing not only beautiful synagogues but will have a chance to visit one as well." Allowing tourists to see where the city came to life before the Second World War and explore various religious locations such as ritual bathhouses and a cemetery I am sure will allow you to further your understanding of the city, the country it belongs too and some of the awful things its residents had to endure throughout the occupation. We will get to visit the ghetto square and to take in the former walls that enclosed the ghetto. Nanna and I will see numerous sites used when shooting Spielberg’s Schindler's List in the early 1990s and learn about an incredibly brave man with a passion for helping people. I shall look forward to the next few days as much as possible without sounding like a raving Nazi, but until then - Night, NIght!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

For The Dead And For The Living We Must Bear Witness

Cześć, 

Well, that was my first attempt at Polish. I suppose I have got to start somewhere, considering I will be in the beautiful city of Krakow this time next week, writing to you all from my Hotel room I shall be sharing with a very dear friend and family member. 

This all started back last year, possibly just after my birthday also, my Nanny Pumpkin came over and upon other things the conversation steered towards city breaks and travelling and some of the things we would like to tick off our never-ending bucket lists. It was at this point that my Nanna had said that an old family friend who had recently passed away the year before had left some money for her and my grandfather in her will, and as a result of my grandfathers passing a few months earlier, she thought it would be a nice way to celebrate them both by going on a trip of a lifetime. It sounds incredible doesn't it - Gothic old city, Eastern European food and plenty of culture to warm the soul. But it will not all be about cocktails in swanky bars and maybe the odd mooch around some shops, oh no. You see being from a long military family lineage, I have become accustomed more than most to hearing stories about the war and the impact that they had not on life here in Britain but also that of other countries and nations brought into Hitler's wrath. And so, along with the Istagramable dinners and sites, my Grandma and I will be visiting the site of one of the worlds most vicious and notorious death camps - Auschwitz. 

Our trip will start on Monday with an early morning flight from Luton, arriving in the city of Krakow approximately midday. I am sure we will have plenty of time to take in the sights and sounds and smells before having some dinner and heading for our room. 

Tuesday will be spent paying our respects and I am sure learning more about some of the most horrendous, and hopeful stories to come from such a place. Auschwitz and Birkenau were the largest of the German Nazi concentration camps and extermination centres. Located a short drive from Krakow city centre, we will visit the site where over 1.1 million men, women, and children lost their lives. The post-camp relics are protected by the Museum created in 1947 in the hope that future generations could learn, and understand how one mans actions can influence a nation to do unspeakable things. As well as teaching, the establishment also helps with research, conservation and even has a publishing centre for some of its work. I have always said that irrespective of my military connections, everyone, Jewish, German or otherwise, as a human being, should visit there if you can. There is no way to understand postwar Europe and indeed the world without an in-depth confrontation between our idea of mankind today and the remains of Auschwitz and the tale sit can tell. 

Taking a break from the emotional stuff, Wednesday will be spent exploring the wondrous caverns of the Salt Mine. With visitors reaching over a million every year it was certainly somewhere me and my little old Nanna were not going to miss out on. However Thursday we will be diving in deep again to hear some hopefully more heartwarming stories on the Schindler Tour. The website my Nanna and I booked through, Escape2Poland explains that "you will be guided around the former Jewish district of Krakow seeing not only beautiful synagogues but will have a chance to visit one as well." Allowing tourists to see where the city came to life before the Second World War and explore various religious locations such as ritual bathhouses and a cemetery I am sure will allow you to further your understanding of the city, the country it belongs too and some of the awful things its residents had to endure throughout the occupation. We will get to visit the ghetto square and to take in the former walls that enclosed the ghetto. Nanna and I will see numerous sites used when shooting Spielberg’s Schindler's List in the early 1990s and learn about an incredibly brave man with a passion for helping people. 

The following day we fly home and no doubt will be emotionally and physically exhausted from such a beautiful but also emotionally charged trip. It's hard to say I am looking forward to it. I mean I am, simply because it is somewhere fresh and new and another Bucket List item ticked off, but also to understand the magnitude of the Holocaust and the remarkable people that managed to survive. I am sure it will be one hell of a trip, one where I should probably start packing!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Drowning - Under Da Sea

Heyy Heyy, 

So when most people say that they feel as though they have not had a weekend, I can almost literally relate as for the last week I feel as though I have not had a single day outside of the office including this Saturday and Sunday just gone. A combination of anger, disappointment and frustration has left me well and truly exhausted this weekend and I am thoroughly looking forward to having this weekend off ... Hopefully. I will be honest with you all now that I am completely drained and in all fairness am done with the whole situation after being let down. 

Anyway, on with the show and what a show it was. So after Saturdays letdown I had headed home in order to relax a little before heading out to a party that evening. But this wasn't just any type of party. Oh no! This was an 80's themed 30th birthday party. The lady in question was Mr Warehouse's friends from when he was growing up in and around Marston Moretaine. She was turning thirty (I mean I was shocked when I heard that it was the big three-zero that she was turning. Looking at her you would have assumed as I did that she was not a day older than me at twenty-six). In celebration to where she came from was celebrating the era that was the 1980s. Everyone of importance was there - Michael Jackson, Sinitta, Madonna, Smurfette, Slash and me - Ariel from The Little Mermaid, in toe with Prince Eric of course. 

The idea of The Little Mermaid had been around for awhile in my head and originally started out as a sort of macabre version of a Halloween costume, complete with fishing hook through the cheek and all. But on hearing that there was another fancy dress party to add to the two Mr. Warehouse and I were already invited to in the autumn of this year I was thoroughly excited to look at the possibilities that seemed almost endless with the 80's churning up some creative and indeed crazy fancy dress ideas. Obviously I toyed with the idea of being Cyndi Lauper with my Prince or George Michael by my side however everyone would be doing exactly the same and I wanted myself and Mr. Warehouse to stick out in the crowd. The Disney Classic splashed it's way onto our screens in 1989 as the red-haired princess tried to figure out a way of growing legs and becoming a human in order to live a normal life on land with her Prince. 

The legend that is The Little Mermaid started its life not in the deep, luscious oceans of Barbados or the Caribbean, but off the coast of Denmark. When Hans Christian Andersen, the Scandinavian answer to the Brothers Grimm, started writing books like The Ugly Duckling and The Princess and The Pea, he probably had no idea just how popular the little Danish icon since at the time in the mid-1800's stories like this and others were overlooked and not given the proper credit they deserve. The innovative and adventurous Hans made friends in later life with world famous Charles Dickens, responsible for Oliver Twist and A Christmas Carol. Hans even made a journey over to visit his British friend in the late 1840's and since then had been a major influence on other British writers such as A A Milne who inspired Winnie The Pooh and even Beatrix Potter who brought us the fun times of Tom kitten and Peter Rabbit. Hans Christian Andersen died after he sustained a serious head injury after falling out of bed in his home in Copenhagen, Denmark but on further inspection by Medical teams was seen to start showing early signs of liver cancer and in the summer of 1875 he died, aged seventy. 

Tributes to his work and art can be seen all around the world including countless stage shows and films not to mention an an amusement park in Shanghai. But for me personally one of the most touching tributes to such a influential storyteller has to be the magnificent statue that sits in the harbor of Copenhagen showing a little sea creature in all her beauty. I plan on visiting her one day, however with Ryanair flights getting cancelled left, right and center because HR cant get their pilots to plan holiday effectively and Monarch being the latest casualty in the bargain bucket prices of a cheap holiday abroad I am not so sure when I will get a chance. Besides I have Prague to save for as well as a Luxe beach holibob next year with the Bae. 

Thinking about it just now, re-enacting Kylie and Jason's wedding from Neighbors would have been a really good idea and probably a lot more simpler and effective in the long run since everyone kept asking who I had come as. Maybe we'll save that one for next time! I mean the possibilities are never-ending and I can only hope that I am able to get the same level of inspiration for my Halloween costumes with Mr Warehouse as well as the 90's themed party in less than a few weeks of an old work colleague. I have already suggested to Mr Warehouse that we dressed as a couple back in the 90's. I'm not talking of loud shirts and baggy pants. I was more along the line of a double-denim Britney and Justin look or even and all out Posh and Becks PVC twinning. Either way I am sure that we will name it just as we always do. And who knows maybe I will be able to take another one of my Disney Princesses of my list of dress-ups. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx