After working our way back up the coast from Tarragona, Barcelona was all about reconnecting with Wayne and Judith for a few days of fun and laughter.  Oh and ham and sherry.  And flaming absinthe.  There’s so many good places to eat and drink in Barcelona, you really can’t go too far wrong.  (Except for the absinthe maybe).

As we’ve all done some of the sightseeing highlights of Barcelona before, we decided to venture out of town – on public transport no less.  We took the train about an hour out of the city to Lavern-Subirats, not even a village really, just a train platform and a bike hire shop.  Darren and Wayne went for mountain bikes, while Judith and I opted for the laid-back e-bike option.  Or so we thought.  It turned out to be the jerkiest, most temperamental e-bike  I’ve ever ridden.

I’d assumed the ride was going to be on meandering country lanes, but oh no, it was straight on to steep, windy gravel tracks with mud and ruts.  Proper full on mountain biking.  Darren and Wayne seemed to think it was nothing like full on mountain biking but what do they know.  There were a few shrieks and “what the holy %$#$” from the ladies as we negotiated the terrain.

Lovely countryside though, as our route took us past endless rows of vineyards and through quaint, picturesque villages.

And what better than to end up at a winery!  The sun was out, we had wine and snacks, and we breathed a sigh of relief that we’d made it in one piece.

The next day, we rented town bikes in Barcelona using an app called Donkey.  After a few false starts with bikes being zip tied together and flat tyres, we got on our way.  My bike was called ‘Falafel’ – cool little name but was anything but a cool little bike.  Still, we got to see a bit more of the city.

And just like that, it was time to ring in the new year.  Party hats and garlands galore! Somehow Darren and I just made it to midnight as we were flying the next day. Bring on 2025!

So our plans had changed when it turned out mum and dad unfortunately couldn’t make it out to Benidorm. Instead of flying home to California on New Year’s Day, we boarded a Vuelig flight to Manchester instead. We hired a teeny tiny Citroen C3 car as Plan A to get the train to Scarborough was no longer an option due to flooding.

Darren had excelled in finding an awesome Airbnb on North Marine Road, with a lovely outlook onto the north bay, and just a hop, step and a jump to mum and dad’s.

We got out and about a bit, checking out some of the old haunts around Scarborough, including Princess Cafe (who’d have thought my career would have both started and ended up (at least so far) at ’Princess’!).

We worked our way through a barrage of British gastronomic delights, from curries to Sunday roasts, fry ups to Wagamamas.

With a little time to spare at the weekend, we ventured to York to meet up with Wayne & Judith.

Woke up to snow!!! Very Christmassy 🙂

But what we really came home to Scarborough for, was to spend some quality time with mum and dad.

As there are no direct flights from LAX to Barcelona, we found ourselves stopping at Dublin airport en route to Spain, with a stopover just long enough to let the good things come to those who wait.

Our Barcelona arrival time late in the evening meant it wouldn’t be worth trying to do anything other than grab a bite to eat and collapse into bed at the airport hotel.  Top of mind: ham, cheese, bread and red wine.  Nothing fancy, we’re simple folk, easily pleased.  We needn’t have worried, an Enrique Tomas shop at the airport fitted the bill perfectly.  

We’d recently watched an Anthony Bourdain episode of No Reservations on the culinary delights of Catalonia.  We’d learned all about calcots, transforming the humble spring onion into both a delicacy and a feast.  And they were in season when we were visiting!  To be fair, these are not your bog standard spring onions.  Leek size jumbo spring onions, charred over an open flame, stripped with your your bare hands, dunked into romesco sauce and ceremoniously lowered into your open mouth for best effect.   Yes, they give you a bib!

After checking out a few Spanish villages along the way, our first evening destination was Zaragoza, renowned for its tapas bars.  

Driving inland, it doesn’t get more typically Spanish than Albarracin, in Aragon.  Pretty as a picture, this small medieval town of around 1,000 people is nestled within sandstone hills above the Guadalaviar River.   It looks like it belongs on a Game of Thrones film set.  

We had an Airbnb for a night within the old town, with great views over the town walls and surrounding scenery.  

Climbing the adjacent hillside gives even better views over the whole town, with the ruins of an alcazar, or Moorish castle dominating the cliff top.

Take a look on TripAdvisor for Albarracin and you’ll see that in addition to being one of the most beautiful towns in Spain, it is gastronomically renowned, with a number of highly rated restaurants for its size.  What they don’t tell you is that on a week day in the run up to Christmas, they’ll all be closed.  Not even one of those airport vending machines to be found.

Heading south to the coastal town of Denia, we had ourselves the gastronomic feast we’d been denied the day before, at D’excaro Ossadia.  From the initial dinner invitation made of tangy rice paper designed to be eaten to the multitude of petit four desserts, and all 15 or so courses in between, it really was a culinary experience.

And after the typically Spanish Spain of Albarracin, it doesn’t get more typically British Spain than Benidorm.  Or Brits abroad anyway.  Gotta love a bit of Benidorm, or Chavvy Benny as John calls it.  We didn’t even have fish and chips or a bacon butty.  But we did fit in a good old curry, a massive paella, as well as a delicious Christmas Day buffet at the hotel my sister, Denise was staying at.  

What a fantastic way to spend Christmas with family – Pat and John, Denise and the kids – lapping up the sunshine by the pool and stuffing our faces with tasty food and drink.  We called mum and dad on FaceTime (albeit the worse for wear – us, not them!) as unfortunately they weren’t able to join us.  So instead we’ll be joining them in Scarborough post-Spain celebrations.

Our Airbnb in Benidorm probably had one of the best views in the resort, just breathtaking.  And a great excuse to get everyone together for one last Christmas celebration.

The walk up to The Cross and out to El Torre Mirador made for more awesome views, which along with the Old Town, show you a different side to Benidorm.

Last up on this leg of the trip was tapas in Tarragona, before heading to Barcelona to celebrate the end of 2024 and ring in the New Year with Wayne and Judith.

While the post-Labor day ‘return to office’ doomsday loomed over us, we still had nearly a month of freedom left.  So we dusted off the Basecamp for a Bend, Oregon finale.

The drive north up the I5 freeway is a somewhat tedious and soul-destroying journey.  Busy traffic and trucks on a Friday afternoon, through one built-up area after another, and no good overnight rest stop options.  A little off the beaten track, a Sam’s Club car park came to our aide.  Once you’re north of Sacramento, the scenery starts to get much more interesting, surrounded by trees and mountains.  That’s more like it! A little lunch stop at Mount Shasta allowed us to stretch our legs in Sisson Meadows before hitting the Oregon state line and pulling into Bend late afternoon.

Bend is really all about bikes and breweries.  So we wasted no time in getting stuck into both.  Darren headed off into the forest to do some single track mountain biking, while I rode the Twin Bridges Scenic Bikeway.  Such a nice ride through farmland and forest (breathe in and smell those pine needles!), with views of Mount Bachelor.  The roads were quiet with mainly horses and cows for company and the odd cyclist.

And the great thing about doing a big bike ride, is that you get to meet up at a brewery with food trucks post-ride.  

Such a good option, the bike/brewery combo, we made a bit of a habit of it, with Darren working his way through the extensive network of Deschutes National Forest trails while I rode the Cascades Scenic Highway.

We took it in turns to cycle to/from work too.  Yes, we were working but the deer hanging around the Haven co-working office kept us company and kept it real. 

The expansive river views from the office were a constant reminder to get out there and enjoy the river trails and summer wildflowers.

We mixed things up a bit with our Basecamp hangouts.  Starting off (and finishing) at The Camp campsite in town.  This was perfect for lazy evenings relaxing by the fire (our only campfire option given the fire ban).  It was also handy for being able to walk to some of our favorite drinking establishments – Crux, Monkless, and the Warming Hut – and to cycle to our favorite personal picnic spot overlooking the Deschutes river.

We found a good boondocking spot (and therefore cheaper option) at ‘Phil’s Place’, one of the MTB trailheads near town.  Handy for Darren’s biking but also close to The Grove food hall with a specialty market deli, restaurants and coffee shops and The Sparrow bakery, one of those where your nose is accosted by a whiff of delicious freshly baked pastries when you walk in the door. And still within spitting distance of the center of Bend.

Further afield, we spent a few nights at Soda Creek up near the Mount Bachelor ski area and therefore rather chilly at night.  Such a pretty area though, surrounded by meandering streams, lakes and meadows that reminded me of Hope, Alaska.

At Tumalo State Park campground, we had a lovely quiet site nestled in the forest, just a short wander or bike ride to one of our favorite food hubs, The Bite.

Our last weekend included the bonus of a weekend visitor.  One of our friends from California, Natalie, had moved to Portland Oregon a few years ago and was looking for just the right excuse to come and visit Bend.  Of course, we showed Nat some of our favorite breweries and hikes, including a walk up Pilot Butte in town and wood-fired pizza and beer from Crux.

We also hiked the river trail at the stunning Smith Rock State Park with Nat.  A herd of maybe 20 deer were running amok, they pounded across the river towards us and then pronked up the hill nearby.  Very cool.  And it’s not every day you meet a guy taking his alpaca for a walk.

All that remained was the drag of the I5 return journey.  But wait, Darren had a better idea.  A diversion via Mammoth Lakes and the much more scenic 395 drive home.  After all, the mountains are calling.

Happy Days!  It’s amazing how much you can fit into a few weekends, with summer daylight hours also providing recreation opportunities before and after work.  This remote working lark has really enabled us to embrace a different type of holiday experience, one where you don’t have to book a whole load of days off work in order to feel like you’re on vacation.  Being back in the office is going to take a bit of getting used to.  But after four and a half years of being on the road, you can’t say we didn’t make the most of it.  So long and thanks for all the fish.  For the next chapter, maybe it’s time to embrace the world a little closer to home.  Sunny Southern California, don’t mind if we do 🙂

Was it really less than two weeks ago we had partied hard in Vegas to celebrate Shelley and Phil’s one year wedding anniversary?  Back to Vegas so soon, although this time just the briefest of overnight stops en route to Colorado.  Less Elvis, more beer.  Probably not the smartest of stops honestly, given we still had to drive over 700 miles the next day.

The plan was a month’s stay at an Airbnb in Keystone, Colorado, back working at our favorite co-working office in Frisco, EVO3.  The rub was that this might be our last proper Colorado trip.  The Final Chapter. Because after Labor Day in September, I am duty bound to become incarcerated in California.  That’s right – four and a half years of freedom working remotely (which we’ve shamelessly exploited) are finally coming to an end.  The powers that be have deemed that thou shalt work from the office.  And not just any office, the office of the company that I actually work for, Princess Cruises in Santa Clarita.

Better make the best of it then!  Starting off with some hiking at Mayflower Gulch in the Ten Mile Range, with fantastic mountain views, wildflowers, and a smattering of snow.

I wasted no time in testing out Aaron’s new boat with a group of EVO3’ers, enjoying some lovely evening sunshine as we hung out in the vicinity of the Dillon amphitheater, soaking up the atmosphere and the free music.

Unfortunately, Darren couldn’t join us for the boat trip as he had to do a race packet pick-up. In a rash moment a month earlier, he’d signed up for the Double Bypass, one of Colorado’s largest, and certainly the most iconic, cycling event (along with its even more challenging cousin, the Triple Bypass).  Starting near Georgetown, the Double Bypass climbs over Loveland Pass and Vail Pass finishing in Avon, racking up 78 miles and 6,500 feet of elevation gain.  As the cyclists set off, they were serenaded by a bagpiper, in a kilt of course, who somehow found enough oxygen to make his bagpipe wail.  

Darren certainly had his work cut out.  But what an epic event, with a supportive, good-vibe community of riders huffing and puffing their way up and over the relentless mountain passes, soaring down the other side, and re-fueling, chatting and bemoaning the last/next section at the aid stations.  He finished with an ear to ear smile, proud as punch with his medal and Double Bypass bike jersey.

We revisited Loveland Pass a couple more times after the Bypass.  Firstly, an awesome hike at 12,000ft with stunning wildflowers and views.

Followed by a grueling bike ride up the other side of Loveland pass from Keystone.  And this time not just Darren but me too.  Admittedly, I do have an e-bike.  But with a climb of 2,750ft over 10 miles, my legs certainly knew about it, even on Turbo mode. As for the downhill, Strava clocked my top speed at 42mph, I think a record for me!

I was lucky enough to celebrate my birthday while we were away.  And what better way to celebrate than a bike ride 🙂 But this time we switched out the mountain passes for a ride to Breckenridge Distillery, which just happens to offer an awesome Happy Hour.

July 2024 seemed to be the month of the moose!  There we were pedaling around the quiet backroads of Keystone on the way back from birthday drinks.  And there, right there by the roadside was a moose, just lazily munching away in the meadow.  He did a bit of a double take as I sailed past on my bike, and then went straight back to his munching.

Speaking of moose, we bumped into another one on the Lily Pad Lake trail in Eagle’s Nest Wilderness near Silverthorne. A young male moose was hogging the trail and as we paused to keep our distance, he walked straight towards us. Luckily, he carried on walking right past us, just going about his business but you never really know. And then would you believe it, on the way back, another moose. A female this time and again, right on the trail. Well, this is all awesome and everything, but we were on a mission to get to Outer Range Brewing before they stopped serving food. Luckily, we made it there in time to wolf down the Thai chicken half bird with bird sauce, an absolute staple highlight of Frisco.

One of the things we really loved about the Airbnb was the little patio round the back, surrounded by wilderness. We made the most of it (when it wasn’t raining) and got some decent use out of the bbq.

We also had the incredible foresight to bring along the Ooni pizza oven, what an inspired decision that turned out to be. In addition to a few pizza evenings for Darren and I, it served as center stage for casual evening catch ups with Aaron and Wilson, and we even invited the Denver/Fort Collins Colorado boys from work over to enjoy home made pizza with us. Ooni with friends turns into a very interactive affair resulting in some unusual topping combos, interesting map-shaped pizzas, and blow-torched eggs.

In between stuffing our faces with pizza, and of course working, we tried to fit in as much hiking and biking as we could.

On our last weekend, we headed further afield to pick up the fabulous Rio Grande bike trail from Basalt.

The other reason we’d headed west for the weekend was to go to the Heritage Fire Festival in Snowmass near Aspen. It’s described as an open-air culinary experience with an all-star cast of local chefs who specialize in nose to tail cooking of heritage breed animals over live fire. It is essentially a diverse array of 20+ food stalls, each touting their own taster sized wood-fired feast. Some standouts were the short rib lollipops (not really lollipop-sized, essentially a slab of melt-in-your-mouth rib, falling off the bone), wagyu steak with corn salsa, slow-braised lamb shoulder, duck tacos with sweet potato puree and gold leaf, and duck tongue on crispy rice. Absolutely mouth-wateringly delicious. The promised free-flowing drinks on the other hand became a bit of a challenge as they gradually ran out of drinks throughout the afternoon, but the food and the ambience on what turned out to be a lovely sunny summers day made up for the lack of planning on the drinks side.

After all that food, we did a big hike the next day up to Elk Camp, high above Snowmass at over 11,000 ft.

In our last week working at EVO, we finally made it back out on Aaron’s boat. After hitting up the container Tiki Bar for a tiki-rita, we briefly checked out the very cool Dillon Amphitheater, headed back to the boat to chill and take in the atmosphere from there, and then hung out on the comfy sofas back at EVO. A very cool evening and fitting way to round off our 2024 Colorado trip.

When we mentioned our plans to visit Cuba for a long weekend to our US friends and colleagues, virtually everyone gave us a skeptical expression, questioning whether they’d let us in.  We knew that Cuba was officially not open to American tourists, but Darren had done some extensive googling to confirm that American citizens (and that is what we are now) could in fact visit Cuba and “support the Cuban people”.  Just not as “tourists”.  There was extensive form filling to be done at the airport but that was about as difficult as it got.  And just like that, our visas were paid for, our documentation was stamped, and we were greeted at the customs desk with a “Bienvenido a Habana”.

Think of Havana, Cuba as a stereotype and it immediately puts you in mind of rum, cigars and classic cars.  And so it was only fitting that we were picked up from the airport in one such 1950s classic car and taken for a rum cocktail.  No cigars, thankfully.  And from then on wherever we went, there were similarly cool classic cars lined up like taxis, pimped up for the tourists-not-tourists.  The roads were an odd mixture of classic cars, clapped out old Ladas, bright yellow taxis (many of which were also clapped out Ladas), tuk tuks and bicycle taxis.

Similarly, the city of Havana was an eclectic mix of grand old government buildings, architectural masterpieces in their day and well-maintained to paint an imposing political presence, contrasted with third worldly decrepit, falling down buildings that were barely still standing.  In fact, some had only the front facade of a building with an empty shell of nothingness where the rest of the building had once been.  

The apartment Airbnb we were staying in was somewhere in between.  In order to get there, we had to use a rickety two person lift with a metal gate pulled across.  It rose so slowly it felt like there was some backstage hand manually pulling it up, and it was stifling and airless in the heat.  But it transported us to a lovely decked out apartment, with a balcony and a view over the nearby rooftops (hence how we knew that some buildings were nothing but a front).

Some of the challenges of being a non-tourist in Cuba is that nothing is compatible with our normal day to day western culture.  Like paying by credit card (as they’re not generally accepted anywhere and even if they were, no one wants to get ripped off with the official bank exchange rate, a far cry from the currency exchange rate you get “on the street”).  So you have to carry cash.  And lots of it, given the effects of inflation.  

Another challenge is the lack of international roaming for your mobile phone, making it effectively useless other than as a camera.  Luckily our Airbnb package came with a local SIM card fitted mobile phone (in the style of a brick), which could be used as a WiFi hotspot.  In an unreliably intermittent way.  So the Lonely Planet book we’d brought with us got a lot of use.

We spent lots of time wandering the streets, getting our bearings and taking in the atmosphere.  Plaza Vieja, with its colored buildings and Juliette balconies was pretty as a picture in the sun.  The brewery in the square was closed for renovations but they had no qualms about selling us a large bottle of beer and letting us hang out on their concrete steps in the shade.  The square was ripe for people watching, literally buzzing as it became busier with school age kids appearing from every which way sporting all manner of ‘bee’ costumes.  Most commonly a black and yellow t-shirt with varying headwear – yellow ribbons, black caps or my personal favorite… home-made deely-boppers balanced precariously on a black headband.

You can’t visit Havana without visiting Fusterlandia.  Or so we were told.  Fusterlandia is the brainchild of Cuban artist Jose Fuster, who turned his local neighborhood into a funky art wonderland.  It reminded me a little bit of the Guell Park, homage to Gaudi in Barcelona, but on steroids.  There’s a main house you can wander around, adorned in colorful mosaic tiles, ceramics and sculptures.  But the wondery doesn’t end there, it’s an entire block party of surreal art and paintings stretching throughout the whole neighborhood.  Really quite bizarre. And oddly photogenic.

We had ourselves some great food and drink over the weekend in Havana.  From a chilled out lunch place overlooking the river marina, Santy Pescador, where we shared a platter of freshly caught langoustines oozing with garlic butter…

… To an upscale rooftop terrace bar (Yarini) with some rather experimental cocktails. We started with a Canchanchara, playing it relatively safe with the local specialty made of firewater, honey and lime, akin to a margarita.  Nice!  I then pushed the boat out with a cocktail called “To Caesar, What is Caesar”: 11 year old aged rum, curry syrup, lemon juice and basil.  Yes, curry syrup.  Compared to Darren, I was actually playing it safe!  He had “The Black”.  7 year old aged rum and cacao liqueur shaken over ice with coconut syrup, lemon juice, aqua faba (the thick briny water you get when cooking chickpeas) and active charcoal.  Strained into an itsy bitsy cocktail glass of delicate proportions that belied its true nature, it was blacker than a well settled pint of Guinness.  Put it this way, we just had the one.

Kicking with live music and a great atmosphere, El Floridita is a classic bar with a whole menu of Daiquiris to choose from.  As one of Ernest Hemingway’s favorite haunts, there is Hemingway memorabilia everywhere, including a life sized bronze statue of him at the bar.

It’s such a shame about the current political situation in Cuba and the whole ban on US tourism thing.  Even if there’s enough loopholes to allow any Americans who want to visit to do so, there’s also enough of a a deterrent to put off all except the most persistent.  The whole black market money thing and lack of phone connection just introduces more barriers.  And yet, Havana seems poised to welcome the world back, a once vibrant city with a whole lot of potential given some love, attention, and tourist dollars.

Rounding off our mini Cuban experience, we finished as we started, with a 1950s classic car.  In a hot pink open top Buick decked out with white patent leather seats and pink lights, we cruised along the Malecon to the soundtrack of “Hotel California”.  In our element. Classic Cuba indeed.

Little photo dump of our Fort Lauderdale/Miami/Key West trip.  What started out as a three week back to back business trip in Florida became a no brainer to bring Darren along with me and make use of the long weekends instead of flying back and forth between California and Florida.  Oh and we do love us some quality Jim and Sam time…

Weekend 1 was Fort Lauderdale, starting off with a bar crawl in classic Floridian style, via the hop on hop off water taxi.

Sam and I were given some lovely yellow roses, it being Mother’s Day.  Not that either of us are mothers, but that’s just a tiny insignificant detail. Wilting in the heat and humidity, I thought they were destined for nowhere other than the bin.  But oh no, Jim tenderly carried those babies home and Sam’s green fingers and a bit of love and attention brought them back to life.

Weekend 2 was Key West and I was very happy to tick off one of my Must Sees as we stopped at a harbor along the way. There in the water, bumbling away as if he had all the time in the world, was the ocean’s gentle giant of a manatee, popping up to see if we had any spare donuts going.

Why stay in a hotel or a motel in Key West when you can stay on a boat? Points for novelty factor (and double bonus points for air conditioning – at the risk of being like a broken record, I find the heat and humidity in Florida in the summer a tad stifling). The hosts had left lots of useful signs for us, indicating to not touch this or that or to give directions on how things worked. The most useful one was Cold Beer here. True Story! What a welcome 🙂

Speaking of boats, the Keys scene pretty much revolves around watercraft, so we did not just one but two sunset boat tours, and Darren also squeezed in a couple of hours on a jetski.

Meanwhile, we rented a couple of bikes for the few days we were in the Keys. We did lots of riding, as it’s pretty much the only type of exercise you could bear to do in that heat. Luckily, there were bike paths aplenty, a good thing as we soon realized it was too hot even to wear a helmet.

And like all the best bike rides, beer and tacos were on the agenda.

The drive back up from the Keys to Fort Lauderdale was another story entirely. Horrendous torrential rain resulted in having to pull off the road and sit it out. Only to eventually join the long traffic jam on the single lane highway as the rain finally eased off and everyone else had the same idea and timing.

Back in Miami and back to work for a week. This did at least involve an evening of socializing at Top Golf. Let’s just say I won’t be going pro any time soon.

Found a nice Spanish restaurant and tapas bar just down the road from the hotel.

And then would you know it, it’s Darren’s birthday whilst we’re in Miami. So we pushed the boat out with a celebratory omakase meal at Rakki Sushi. Sooo good!