August 2013: camping in Kent: marshmallows, cornfields, and near-death experiences – part 2

The next day we fuelled up on coffee and baked beans, in preparation for our renewed mission to find a shop. While washing the dishes, the sunshine was suddenly disappeared, and out came an intense downpour of huge hailstones. Poor Paul was caught in this and had to hurriedly rush for shelter, much to our amusement. The weather continued in this unpredictable manner for the rest of the day.

Armed with sunblock and raincoats, off we headed optimistically in search of the next village along. Data on our phones was pretty much non-existent, and the only map we had to work from was severely lacking in detail, so we relied on this and rough directions given to us at the pub. Keen to avoid a repeat of yesterday’s hair-raising walks along busy roads, we were pleased to find several ‘public walkways’ signposted.

These public walkways however were often not particularly helpful however, with no idea of where the walkway led, we often discovered ourselves in the opposite direction to what we intended. We also ended up crunching our way through a farmer’s cornfields, gaining a few cuts and scratches in the process.

What we were promised was a mere half an hour’s stroll from the first village soon turned into a few hours. We were getting increasingly hungry and fed up with our ridiculous situation. Finally we found our way to civilisation and were keen to have a hearty lunch, which ended up being in yet another pub.

We asked the waiter about the village shop, explaining that we needed some groceries. Perhaps by the word ‘groceries’ meant something grander to him as he said that there was only a very small shop and he didn’t think it would have what we needed. He explained that there was a bus which left from just down the road every hour or so and could take us into the metropolis of Tunbridge Wells where we could get everything we needed.

Suitably sated, we rolled our eyes and headed off to wait for the bus. Finally off we rolled. Two minutes later we saw the infamous shop, which looked like it would have had everything we needed to feed ourselves for the next few meals.

Nevertheless, we found ourselves in Tunbridge Wells and walked around a cute little centre before finding the huge Morrisons. We started stocking up, and then realised that we still had to figure out how to make our way back to camp. By this time we had had plenty enough of trekking our way through paddocks, cornfields, over stiles, and turning ourselves around in circles, and so we decided we would taxi back to the campsite. Fearing an outrageous sum, we enquired with a driver as to the estimated fare, and he guessed a mere £10. Not having to worry about lugging our supplies back over countless miles, we added some cold beers into the trolley.

Our chatty taxi driver was amused by our story, and keen to check out what the camping area was like, drove us all the way to our tent. 

The journey was only twenty minutes.

August 2013: Camping in Kent: marshmallows, cornfields, and near-death experiences – part 1

In August four of us ventured out into the lush countryside of Kent for a spot of relaxing camping, but what in actual fact ended up being a comedy of errors. We took a train south to Ashurst, laden with newly purchased tents of varying quality, one pot, a bag of marshmallows, instant coffee and some tins of baked beans.

After finding our bearings, off we plodded in the direction of the campsite, only to realise that the country roads were bordered right to the very edge with thick hedgerows. Meanwhile the roads themselves were full of rather large cars and trucks hurtling past at breakneck speed, and honking their horns at us fools who clearly shouldn’t have been there. A sweaty and stressful trek later, we arrived at the campsite.

To say we were underprepared would be an understatement. We claimed our patch of grass and pitched our tents. It soon transpired that the advertised on-site farm shop which we had been counting on for dinner that night and beyond was only open on Saturdays. It was a Thursday.

We were assured there was a shop in the next village, a short walk away. Using the unreliable maps on our phones, we eventually navigated our way to said village, by way of some slightly quieter roads. Once we arrived however, we were informed the shop was closed.

We were left with no other option than dinner in the pub – about as far from camping as you could get. Asking about the shop for tomorrow’s expedition, we were told that we would need to go to the next village again. We sighed and headed back to camp to comfort ourselves with toasted marshmallows.

A lack of foam mats, mattresses, or any form of cushioning and being unaccustomed to sleeping on the ground meant a long and relatively sleepless night for us city slickers.

A Sicilian adventure, July 2013: food, sunshine and friends, part 2

After a few days in Palermo, we jumped on a bus and then a ferry to Favignana island where we 'glamped' for a few days. This is really camping as it should be.

Waking up in the morning, we strolled to the campsite's restaurant where we enjoyed delicious pastries and cappuccinos, including Genovese - a delicious pastry which looks like a ravioli, filled with a custard-like pastry cream, although a little rich for breakfast for me.

We would then hop on our bicycles and cycle to one of many different beaches, or to the town centre. It's a truly stunning place - the colour of the water is just incomparable. It's a popular holiday spot for Sicilians, and it didn't feel like there were that many international tourists, which is often a bonus.

We had a lot of really tasty food on Favignana. Delicious foccacia, gelato, pizza, and the ubiquitous Birra Moretti. We would buy one big bottle at a time, and share amongst plastic cups, ensuring the beer was always cold.

What little we saw of Sicily we loved. We would love to come back one day soon and visit other parts of this gorgeous island, hopefully again with the fantastic company of our ever-stylish, diminutive guide.

Sadly though our time in Sicily had to come to an end, and we had to bid it, and Ester alla prossimo.

A Sicilian adventure, July 2013: food, sunshine and friends, part 1

As summer at last started to creep in, we leaped at the chance to visit Ester, our former flatmate in London, in her hometown of Palermo, Sicily.

We spent a glorious week together in the northern part of Sicily. Met off the bus from the airport by Ester and her friend, after a few wrong turns, we managed to navigate the narrow mostly sign-less alleyways of Palermo to our airbnb apartment.

Alberto, our host, welcomed us with wine and enthusiastic greetings as though we were long-lost friends. A great first taster of Sicilian culture.

Next stop: street food/drink tour. Ester and some friends joined us and the others staying in Alberto's apartments for this tour. A disagreement soon ensued about where to find the best panella (fried chickpea cakes), and pani ca meusa/panino con la milza (bread with fried lung and spleen, sometimes served with cheese - surprisingly delectable). I still don't know the answer, but everything we tried was delicious.

In Palermo, the capital of Sicily, dirty alleys lead to majestic buildings and bustling markets. Without local and linguistic knowledge you would probably not even notice, but I gather that the presence of the mafia is still felt throughout Sicily. Lack of faith in the government is also widespread, and visible; from the piles of rubbish left uncollected, to occupations of various cultural institutions whose funding the government withdrew.

 

Palermo is a passionate place. You don't do things by halves here.

Whether it's the food - cooked and eaten and discussed with gusto; or politics - hotly debated, protested and opined throughout the city; or socialising - into the wee hours of the morning; everything is done with passion.

Keen to practice our scuba diving skills we arranged for a trip out to Ustica island, a marine reserve and a picturesque island. We walked through the deserted streets to the harbour as the sun was rising - a beautiful sight. While diving, we saw a shipwreck of a Panamanian ship far below us, and made our way into an underwater cave, surfacing within an air pocket. It's a really strange feeling to know that you're underwater, but your head is currently above water, in a cave.

After a couple of dives, we enjoyed a delicious spaghetti dish and explored the island. Quite tired after the early start and the diving, I was not keen on Kylie's idea to hike up to the very top of the island at the time. I must admit, though, it really was a great view.