The Hoxton Hotel (’the urban lodge‘) in London recently had a sale, where a lucky few could purchase rooms for £1 a night or £29 a night. Most came away with nothing, but Sam was lucky enough to not only get a room, but two consecutive nights on the weekend of her birthday! Fantastic!

Said weekend started last Friday, we each took the day off and took our quick and usual route into the centre; meeting outside Leicester Square, cases in tow, ready to be tourists for a couple of days. After apple juice and lunch in St James’ park we took the Northern Line to Old Street and checked in, electrified by the overwhelming trendiness that is both the hotel and surrounding area.

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Ah, its been a week now since I returned from the US, UTAH and the Westgate Resort in Park City. I’ve just about recovered from the 7 hour time difference, which was compounded by a 24 hour day of traveling including a harrowing down the mountain drive in heavy snow, two flight connections (Detroit and Minneapolis) and a 2 hour coach trip from Heathrow back to St Albans. I’m also not a Mormon.

Heading over appeared easier on paper, short flight to CDG, Paris then an 11 hour Air France flight to Salt Lake City (do not go to the Travelodge near Heathrow and certainly do not taste their food – if you must there is a nicer looking pub just around the corner). Looking online beforehand we noted the movies we wanted to watch, etc. Unfortunately the flight was with an Air France partner, Delta, without a sophisticated in flight entertainment system – instead giving us in the aisle airings of the awful “Little Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day” and “Kung Fu Panda”, leaving 7 hours to spare. No doubt the complimentary Kronenbourg 1664 helped the trip go a little faster. All in all it felt like a short haul flight – just really really long. Leaving the dull London 12C we were treated to a basking 88F on arrival, where we picked up our 4×4 Suzuki rental and proceeded towards Park City in the mountains.

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As with our trip to Sozopol, Bulgaria, I’m taking a quick moment out of a few days to recant our recent tails. Those lucky enough to find this rare and valuable hard copy will note the delightful Molyvos image on the front of this book.

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Here I am in Bulgaria on our first warm evening (Monday). I have decided to write this blog entry as I go so that at the end of it all I won’t have to spend forever trying to recall all the fine little details. My girlfriend and I, who I shall from hereon refer to as Samantha, caught a flight from the over-secure queue riddled Gatwick airport via Thompson holidays, to Bourgas airport – a large city on the black sea coast in Bulgaria. From here we travelled by taxi through thunderous downpours to the old old town of Sozopol (610 BC) and its sprawling new town Harmanite.

Language barriers are high over here, I speak a little French and Sam speaks some German. The local tongue seems to be an odd amalgamation of German, French and Russian – most signs occur both in English and Cyrillic alphabets. This meant that showing our driver where the hotel ( Hotel Diamanti, ***) was – sans address, with a poor map in low light and he, without his glasses, proved difficult. The labyrinthine cobbled streets seemed alien and the destination far away and hidden. When hope was running thin, out of the dark and from nowhere the large Russian "Diamanti" sign affronted us. And so we are here successfully. The amenities are as standard – beds, shower, satellite TV, air conditioning and a balcony with slight sea view.

After a good nights sleep came the crashing sounds of Saturday morning and the dust bin men rattling over the cobbles with their wheelie bins. The weather was still overcast. We set out on our tour of the town; leading north then west (along the top of Sozopol) past the harbour and naval base. Old boats rusted and ye-olde Russian cars rolled by. Many of the buildings here were half built and the area seemed unsightly in the murky weather – suffice to say this wasn’t the greatest of places to start. We turned left into the centre of town and proceeded past the market stalls selling jewellery, art work and fake Armani for 5 lv.

There’s a slight wind at the moment, a boat is chugging past and the Cicadas are singing. The odd glitch sound of a passing bat is common and the light-house on St. Ivan’s is booming. The stars are bright and Sam is attempting a fiendish sudoku with a deterministic fervour on her brow whilst chomping on her pen

But back to Saturday – our day saw the exploration of central old Sozopol before lunch. Old hanging buildings of wood and panelling aside newer stone houses, similarly overhanging with orange ceramic roof tiles. All the streets are cobbled with a semi circular pattern and they intertwine seemingly at random. The shops give a limited selection of products – there are the cloths and tourist shops alike with bargainous deals, numerous cafes and food outlets – each selling potato crisps, biscuits and alcohol – lots and lots of alcohol. We have in fact not yet located a good source for fresh bread – it seems to be a rarity and we can only find a peculiar rubbery brand.

For lunch we stopped at a horrid food place that can be likened to a British greasy spoons caf’. We had our pizza and chicken for 6.60lv and swiftly returned home. After a nap and a little sort out we headed south and then west towards the first of Sozopol’s two beaches. We passed the elderly ladies selling lace and home made Jam (as mentioned in the Lonely Planet guide) and we came to a rocky outcrop where we could get some good panoramic shots of the new-town and bay. In moving south we came across the finer parts of Sozopol  and a little alleyway that took us to a cliff side walk which ran via the city wall. Overlooking the bay the views are gorgeous and the aroma of fresh and trodden fruit from overhanging trees paved the way. This took us right along to the beach side and past many tine restaurants that offered a view and the sounds of a crashing sea.

The remainder of the day and for a lot of Sunday we explored "Harmanite", or New Sozopol; its cemented hotels, abandoned building works and tiny summer-only shops (gone since September) gave a quaint but characteristic feel to the town. On the surface it is just an attempt as a tourist sprawl but the obvious distinction between western and east European modern cultures is of some interest where the prosperous and new dwarf the basic and poor. Here we learnt of day trips via a Bulgarian/Russian man too busy running his business to talk to his customers. Sam also met a charming Russian fellow who was happy to have it pointed out that his bag had been left open.

Sunday was overcast again but today the clouds cleared and we awoke to clear skies and a warm sun. Heading into town to catch a minibus day trip to Ropotamo nature reserve and river was our best option. Out friendly driver – a fan of 90s trance music – carried us to the reserve and organized our boat trip with a newly arrived coach party from "Sunny Beach". From here we chugged away at the front of an open-slow moving tourist barge. The guide boasted wolves and wild boars but we saw only wild and rare birds. Herons, Jays and Woodpeckers speckled the riverbanks and many other unnameable ducks and wild fliers graced the route – such as an all blue king fisher variety and large billed brown species. The hill views were astonishing and we were all happy to see the odd random fish fly out of the water. The scenery also reminded me of that seen in Jurassic Park.

We came home past a marshland and withdrawn 5 star hotel that looked overly posh and introverted. Lunchtime saw us eat at the "El Grecco" cafe above the bay – a selection of freshly made dips and tuna canapes. The sun was now hot hot hot and the only thing left to do was spend the day at the beach. To the sea we went with towels and beach mat. The bay here is such that you can walk half way out and still have your head above water (which is of course lovely and warm at this time of year). And so the hours were spent finding shells, chasing crabs, scaring fish and watching stray dogs play with the tide and each other.

The GBP-BLG exchange rate is favourable to the strong pound. At the time of writing £1 is the equivalent of 2.7-2.9 levs, depending where you get them from. Herein Bulgaria the face value of money is the same as in England, that is for 1 unit you could expect to purchase a coke or for 5 units a single course. Thus for a "budget" holiday this is great – we can have 3 meals out a day and buy plenty in between. Our trip to Ropotamo cost us 40lv, only £7.50 each.

And here is a good place to talk about the food! Saturday night we ate at "Panorama St. Ivan" that offered an outside sea view of the island opposite our hotel. We opened our banqueting with a shared dish of shrimp, we snapped back their heads and sucked out their innards whilst rolling them in a hoi-sin like sauce or butter. This was accompanied by a sweet house white wine. For the main course Sam ate a shark fillet steak with salad garnish and I had a Wiener Schnitzel – an odd looking but tasty pork dish with potatoes. All this cost us only £7.50 each.

For the same price on Sunday at the famous "Viatarna Melnitsa" (windmill) restaurant we enjoyed a selection of salty fish h’orde oeuvres including Anchovies. For mains we had a swordfish kebap – onion, mushroom, tomato and olive flavoured fry/stew whilst Sam ate a Veal cutlet. For desert we had a shared ice cream with freshly cooked raspberries – delicious!! For wine we chose the Pomorie chardonnay.

Tonight we ventured to Ksantana – a three tiered custom built house overlooking/hanging the sea. For the staple price of 40lv or £7.50 each we once again ate like kings. Straying away from wine we had a taste of other alcoholic offerings, a Bulgarian beer – Zargorka and a fine chocolate liqueur and whisky cocktail with creme. For starter we had chicken wings and frogs legs before moving onto a Pork fillet and beautifully stewed vegetable mix and a Bulgarian Rabbit casserole. Now it is late and I must sleep so I can carry on with this fine holiday tomorrow

Part two and it is now Thursday – the day of Sam’s atrocious bad luck. From the sun that came out as we went in, the rain that fell during beach time, the cakes that looked delicious and tasted terrible and the 18:00 boat tour that left without us. At about 14:00 we realized everything we would attempt to do would somehow go wrong (even the game of Pool did!), furthermore we narrowed it down to choices Sam had made. She is now lying next to me recovering from a bad dose of Shellfish. So here is my chance to fill you in.

On Tuesday things were once again blistering hot and beautiful; so as all good British folk would do, we went to the beach again – for the day. Walking in the sea here you are incredibly close to the wildlife (unlike in Britain). Around us we saw jumping fish and sea creatures alike. To round off our sun tanning beach trip we took a ride on a Pedalo for the lowly price of 6lv (£2) per hour. Cycling out of the bay gave us some great views of the coast, including the old Sozopol town-wall and overhanging restaurantation.It also convinced us that taking the slide on the back of the pedalo and swimming in the sea was not the best idea as we encountered a number of jellyfish – both large creamy white and small and clear species. The suns warmth did not hasten and suffice to say we are both now a golden brown – even Sam who has never tanned before in her life. For an early dinner we chose to eat at the ‘breme’ pectopaht at the tip of the town looking out over the bay – the views were great however the food not so. Our seafood salad, bacon and cheese skewers, grilled veg’, button mushrooms, "chicken delight" and chocolate pancake tasted prepared and manufactured – entirely horrid and the only saving point was the below average 27lv price.

Wednesday saw the weather turn for the worse, so the beach was out. This was the day of little shopping trips – liqueurs, wines, chocolate, wooden sculptures, postcards and the GREAT WOODEN SNAKE! For lunch we stopped at a tavern looking place with the word "Mexhana" over the door, there we ate a selection of cold and seasoned salami meats with chips whilst accompanied by two charming cats – two of the many that inhabit Sozopol.

For dinner we chose our restaurant well – we did not want to waste another evening eating terrible food. This time we ate at " Neptun", another old establishment along the Morski-Skali road overlooking the black sea. For starters I had a vegetable risotto and Sam had mussels in garlic, for mains Sam ate the pork kebapches (like sausages) whilst I opted for the recommended "grilled belted bonito" fish. And thus the fish came, it was whole – complete, head tail and all, but most of all it was absolutely delicious. My meal was larger than Sam’s so she ordered an extra shrimp shish kebap. For dessert we had fig pancake (freshly made this time) and a nougat ice cream – I ended up eating both. All of this and a bottle of domaine boyar wine cost us 42lv (not 72lv as we misread). For me personally it was the best of the meals so far – it was a gamble that had finally paid off, considering I was particularly wary of the concept of giving someone a whole fish to work through.

Part 3 now and here I am on the plane home – writing the final chapter in the Sozopol entry for my blog, on pen and paper that is. I am now amongst the fat and yobbish Brits that come for the sun and cheap booze at Sunny Beach & Golden Sands – they are a delightful bunch, sporting white jogging bottoms, gold jewellery and the latest football strips.

To carry on from where I left off, Thursday evening saw us eat at the recommended fish bar,"Kirik". For starters we opted for the Bulgarian mussel and mustard specialty (after they told us they had no black sea crab) and chicken wings. As Sam was ill and I felt a little under the weather we opted for two non-fish dishes; the mixed grill and meatballs and cheese with sauteed potatoes as mains. Our palettes were moistened by a Traminer white from the Tragovishte province. All this set us back 37lv.

And onto our final day in Bulgaria – it ended as it had began – with rain and lots of it. We stayed in and packed for the morning whilst watching CNN’s terrible news coverage and wishing for the BBC. By lunch time we were bored so headed back to "Kirk" to try their infamous fish dishes now that we were feeling better. This time Sam ate the red mullet whilst I opted for the Zargan – a long thin fish with a blue spine. Sam also tried the "buttermilk" drink which she had seen others have, it tasted like some obscure liquid cheese/bitter yogurt and was promptly pushed away. 21.50lv this all costs us and the fish was fantastic.

The rain didn’t let up but this didn’t deter us from one final shopping tour and photo spree. I have officially been dragged through and around every shop in the old town. When finally my legs gave way we returned to the hotel to finish packing before having a card game of head-to-head Texas hold ‘em and a variety of "strip jack naked" incorporating snap and other rules – we dubbed it "Paul wins" three years ago. The kind hotel management let us stay in our room until we need to leave – which is great considering our flight was at 23:45. We paid our dues and booked our taxi before heading out to the "windmill restaurant" for our final Sozopol outing.

Yes, here is ANOTHER paragraph about food – in fact this holiday has been all about REALLY good food, cheap. We ordered some more specialty starters – a serving of caviar and sarmi – vine leaves stuffed with mince meat with a side order of garlic bread. The fun didn’t stop there, for our main course we had the fabulous Pork Kawarma that came in a hot pot on a plate of oil which once ignited cooked the food on our table for us and a scrumptious succulent Salmon in honey dish. This came as we overlooked St Ivan’s and the distant hills lit up a brilliant burning red as the sun set behind them. For dessert we had the ice cream again. This was one of the greatest meals I have ever eaten and it was the perfect end to our eatery-summer Bulgarian adventure.

I guess I will now sit back and watch the rest of King Kong or do a Sudoku! Oh and here is a girl in a bag on the side of a van:

Hello, here is a fine welcome to you all from me in my latest journal entry. In this particular episode I shall be talking to you about my holiday to the French Riviera. Thanks to an impressive holiday-package deal my mum is part of, both I and my girlfriend were privileged with ‘free’ accommodation at a four/five star resort somewhere in the world, after perusing the catalogue we opted for “Le Club Mougins” in the valley of Mougins, an area in the south of france, 6km north of Cannes. It’s a covey, remote, old and rural region with very kind people and the luxuries of French living; a boulangerie, a fruiterie and a poissonerie.

On Thursday, the last day of March, I packed together my things:

and headed to my girlfriend’s house:

from there we headed to Heathrow, caught a plane and flew to Nice airport:

We were greeted by a taxi driver bearing my name, we were driven 40km or so to our resort where we were met by a lovely French receptionist, he proceeded to check us in, give us all the details and told us our room would be ready at 4pm. (The time zone issues were slightly confusing, normally France is one hour ahead of England, but this particular week England had changed their clocks to BST whilst France had yet to do so, putting us on the same time, we didn’t realize this for a while, then after correcting ourselves and becoming confident of the actual time, the clocks changed in the night. Yay for confusion!). Anyway, to make up the time until 4pm, we decided to look around the little village, the medieval village atop the hill and purchase some food for our starving bellies. This was the view from reception:

We purchased fine cheese from the supermarche and baguettes from the boulangerie and enjoyed our first French meal on a bench in the sun. Consequently, everyday we bought croissants, pain au chocolat and baguettes in the morning for petit-dejeuner and ate baguette, cheese (camembert, brie and finer more acquired taste cheeses), pork saucisson and Poulain dark chocolate for lunch. Travelling to the top of the hill we were met with breathtaking views, thin windy streets, posh restaurants, art galleries and a view of the mountains:

Needless to say, we were happy with our choice. After spending an hour in a little shop while Samantha chose a watercolour painting of the region and admiring a modern art gallery we were shown to our apartment:

A one bedroom, full bathroom, half (well-appointed) kitchen, tv, stereo, dining area and balcony apartment.

Our first full day in the resort was a Sunday, so rather than trying to travel to any of the local cities we decided to trek around the local region and head up the hill across the way from us which looked to have a castle at its mount. It turns out the region was a splatter with rich peoples expensive villas, lavender farms, stunning view points and a strong wind. We found an extremely remote little area to enjoy our French dinner, sitting on a crumbling old wall amongst wild flowers we watched over a view of local town Grasse, it looked a little like this:

On Monday (lundi) we navigated via the bus routes to Cannes, the city famous for its film festival. We sifted through the streets, passing the Ferrari shop and the Chanel shop, we were shuffled away from the Palais du Festival because they were setting up something big. We did get a chance to see all the famous film stars hand prints surrounding the complex, my favourite being Akira Kurosawa’s:

Differing from our weekly lunch time tradition only once, we ate at a Creperie, first a fine salad, then a crepe filled with cheese ham and egg and to finish with a rich dark chocolate crepe. Here’s Sam enjoying her jam dessert:

After taking in more picturesque views, the large docks and expensive boats, the blue peter boat and boat trip times we continued upwards to the clock tower for even more views of mountains and the cityscape.

Tuesday was our day of quiet rest, we lounged in our room and enjoyed the facilities of the resort, in particular the crazy golf course which had some impossibly difficult holes, loop the loops and tunnels. In the evening we went for a special night out, dressing up we visited the supremely posh restaurants that could be found in the medieval town of Mougins. We tried translating the menus but soon just opted for the nicest looking, least crowded eatery with trees growing through the roof, much like the image shown above. The meal was absolutely delicious and perfectly cooked and prepared. Sam ate escargots (snails) in a garlic & tomato sauce with a lemon garnished salad for starter whilst I ate a crab and lobster dish. We ordered the dry white house wine and for the main course I had a knife-slices-so-easily-through duck that you wouldn’t believe was poultry with a fine sauce, courgettes, cauliflower, strange potato cakes, celeriac and more tasty supplements. Sam enjoyed the best-cooked lamb she had ever tasted and was positively enthralled by it, indeed saying so to the waiters. For dessert she enjoyed a chocolate sponge thing with vanilla ice cream and real vanilla pods. I had the pear soaked in a red wine with added cinnamon crumble. Our very expensive meal was extremely delicious and well worth the money.

Come Wednesday and with it our first big trip, we travelled to Nice by train from Cannes. French desk clerks and store peoples always seem so much more helpful than their English counterparts. Our problems and worries at the station were all kindly sorted by the French desk lady. We made it to Nice in good time and spent the day wandering their streets, looking through the flower market, passing by the open air theatre and sea front casinos, throwing pebbles in the sea and spending money to use public toilets. At the far end of the beach we travelled up to the top of a cliff where an old castle used to stand. There were public gardens, waterfalls, panoramas and a fantastic viewpoint for watching the planes fly in over Nice and land in the airport.

On Thursday we had a lie in and in the afternoon travelled back to Cannes for a boat trip to the offshore island St. Marguerite.

It was a quiet island with the only buildings being an old fort and the chambers where the man in the iron mask was supposedly kept. We slowly walked around the island, taking in the magnificent Caribbean like qualities and feeding three kind and non-begging cats some of our fromage. Eucalyptus trees and pine trees adorned the land mass:

It just so happened, that in the week I was in France both the Pope and Prince Rainier of Monaco died. This put a slight damper on our trip to the impressive city built into a rock face, as did the overcast weather. Half mast Monaco flags covered the city which we reached by train. The weather put us off visiting the exotic gardens and caves of the region, yet despite circumstances we still decided to visit the principality. Firstly we had to find a public lift down to the bottom, this was no easy task; finally we found a lift and it brought us to the entrance of the hospital. From there we were greeted by whordes (sic) of press, camera crews and photographers waiting for the prince to leave the hospital, here’s my not so good sneaky picture of a few of them:

We proceeded onwards and reached the principality after visiting the classic car and naval museums, the zoo and the massive underground supermarket. The supermarket sold everything from live crabs, lobsters, shellfish and shrimps to deep sea fish, pigs trotters and octopus salad. This must be underwater love. With even more walking we enjoyed the village and scenes of the ancient principality of the Grimaldi’s. As the rain spotted down we chose to visit the aquarium and life aquatic museum of Cousteau (with red hat). Here are some images:

On Saturday we returned home via train to Nice. We enjoyed the medieval city of Mougins one last time, took some more photos and bought some more souvenirs. At the airport we waited 4 hours for our flight and were exhausted after carrying baggage everywhere in the hot hot sun. But we were treated with mind blowingly beautiful views as we left Nice in our 767 plane: