Showing posts with label Croatia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Croatia. Show all posts

Wednesday, 23 March 2016

30 photos from 30 years of travel

Last month I turned 30 and was lucky enough to spend the actual day in the stunning Marjorelle Garden in Marrakech. Prior to going away my nearest and dearest threw me a surprise birthday party. One of the highlights of the event was the slideshow of photos put together predominantly by my dad. While the photos spanned my entire life, what became apparent was how much of it has been shaped by travel. Here are 30 of my favourites:


Namibia


England


Holding a baby crocodile in Zambia


Edinburgh


Fish River Canyon, Namibia


Pembrokeshire, Wales


Croatia


The Pyrenees


Talisker Bay, Isle of Skye


Dubrovnik


The Pyrenees


Feria de Cordoba


Victoria Falls


Costa Rica


Stone Town, Zanzibar


Namibia


Caprivi Strip, Namibia


Prague Cow Parade


Updating the Scratch Map


Vatican City


San Isidro School, Sarapiqui


Iceland


Plaza de la Corredera, Cordoba


Iceland


Wild swimming in the Pyrenees

Jokulsarlon Glacier Lagoon, Iceland


Morocco the first time round


Ireland


Iceland


The Pyrenees

As well as the photos, my mum did a great job of summing up my travelling career in cake form.



Tuesday, 8 July 2014

The strangely emotional ordeal of renewing a passport


There are less than six months left on my passport, so I know I need to get it renewed. Not least because there are destinations in the world where you need to have this amount of time still on it in order to travel. I wouldn't want to have to turn down a spontaneous trip over such a trivial matter. But there is a part of me that is putting it off.

I wonder if there isn't one last adventure left in this battered travel document? After all, my passport and I have had some good times in the last decade and I have the stamps to prove it. Somehow setting out with a shiny new passport, which is completely empty seems like a betrayal. I could be anyone with this new item - a novice who has never left the country before or even a spy!

Then there is the ordeal of sending it off. What if they don't send it back? It doesn't matter they might say, we'll send you a new one, they'll console. But this is my trusty companion and I have protected it from being stolen or misplaced in countries all across the world. Can I really trust the postal system and the passport office to keep it safe while out of my sight?

I love how the front cover has worn so that you can barely see the coat of arms and golden writing any more. Not because it has been treated badly - in fact it is still in pretty good condition considering the travelling life it has had - but through hours of sitting in a money belt and hidden in luggage.

Inside there are numerous stamps from passing through Costa Rican immigration; a robust visa featuring Cyrillic script for visiting Russia; and the entry stamp for getting into Turkey, which has recently been abolished. Each and every one of these items inside tells a story and evokes memories of border crossings and the excitement of arriving in a new country.

The official that welcomed me into Chile used a two-tone ink pad; the green stamp of Ukraine features a little train to show how I travelled; and I don't think you even get stamps for Croatia now that it is part of the European Union, though I have a few with the word Hrvatska on them.

It may seem overly sentimental to be so attached to a passport, but it is probably my most prized possession. I always know where it is - at home or away - and love leafing through its pages. But I must send it off and receive a replacement, retiring this document to the shelf along with my first ever passport, the corner cut off to show it is no longer in service.

Over time the pristine replacement will also become full, a bit worn and an old friend that shows the scars of adventure and who knows where it shall take me?

Tuesday, 11 March 2014

Preparing to pack



It is something of a Dodd tradition to start packing for a trip well in advance. It usually starts several weeks prior to departure with items being laid out on the spare bed. Over the course of the next few weeks more and more clothes, chargers, suntan cream and the rest get added until eventually everything you can possibly think of is laid out.

My dad did this back in February before he and my mum set off for Vietnam and everything was packed up and in his backpack four days before they were due to leave. They hadn't thought to find out what their Skype password is (having not used it for a year), but that's another story.

While we all mocked my dad at being overly organised, I have to confess that I indulge in the same activity before I go away. So about a week ago I started to lay out all my bits and pieces, slowly adding to it as I thought of things.

I tried to encourage my other half to adopt the same approach when he was preparing to head off to South America a couple of years ago. But alas, Healys are not Dodds and simply do not work in the same way. After a week of encouraging him to put everything he would need on the spare bed I went in two days before departure and there were three pairs of underpants and a toothbrush.



But I digress. So with a week to go until I set off for Malaysia the pile on the sofa bed in the spare room is getting larger. It is a while since I have done a trip such as this one, so I am trying to remember exactly what I will need. I have treated myself to new walking shoes and a lightweight jacket, as well as the usual holiday paraphernalia of flop flips and sun cream.

My sister (once a Dodd, now a Dixon) jokes that I pack so lightly that I don't even take a towel and this is true. Towels are large unwieldy items that are simply not suited for travel. They take up far too much room and too much water, meaning they are never dry by the time you wish to leave. I always take a sarong - big enough to wrap me up in my entirety and tries in a fraction of the time - in my mind it's a no-brainer.

You see I like to have all the bases covered, but hate carrying a huge bag. Over the years I have found that the most annoying thing when travelling is to have too much luggage. It makes it difficult when moving on, tires you out in the heat and impedes your flexibility. Instead of being able to jump on a local bus with a little backpack, you need to get a taxi or another form of transport.

It is unusual to feel the same level of frustration at not having an item as the one I get when I am carrying around something that I haven't used. If I take a backpack that is too big, there are simply items at the bottom that never see the light of day.

This is why the stage of my packing process before putting everything into my backpack is whittling down what I need. After a week and a half of gathering things together I can look at them on the bed and systematically work through them deciding what is truly necessary. I can also cross reference items of clothing, working out which ones can multitask and therefore make others superfluous to requirements.

It is in this way that I will whittle down my luggage to the minimum and hopefully achieve my aim of taking only hand baggage on my trip to Malaysia. This will cut down on the time spent hanging around at the airport and that agonising moment when you are stood next to the luggage carousel and there are no more bags coming and you still haven't got yours.

This feeling of unease is only heightened when you are travelling on your own and therefore have no companion with whom to share clothes while the airline attempt to track yours down. For the first three days of my solo adventure in Croatia some years ago, I had only the emergency essentials the airline deigned to give me and the clothes I stood up in.

The essentials pack from Alitalia included a one-size-fits-all tent - sorry I mean T-shirt - some slippers and an interesting selection of cosmetics and feminine hygiene products. I now know that if I do check a bag in, then a change of clothes strategically placed in the hand luggage is an absolute necessity. Nobody wants to be wearing bargain basement Croatian multipack pants for the first three days of their holiday!

So the question is this - will I have struck the perfect balance of bringing just what I need and no more? Or will I find myself desperately missing something I should have packed while another item languishes at the bottom of my backpack? Fingers cross it's not the latter!