Letters To Omi

These are letters home from a digital nomad, sent with love.

[soul-mamma]

Seasons and Sapiens, A Long-Held Love Affair

As I sit here, the chill of the walk to nursery just beginning to peel off in the warmth of the café, it’s a curious feeling that the air outside is a lot colder than in here for the first time in months. I’m an Australian living in England and about to face the first full northern hemisphere winter of my life. I’ve got over 40 years of sunny and moderate climate conditioning to overcome and I feel like I need to prepare.

So now that the coffee has arrived and I’m all set to ponder on the page, how does our experience change with the seasons? Even though many of us live in cities, how are we affected by weather and the natural environment?

First things first, that old adage about Spring being a time for friskiness and reproduction is actually no joke. I mean did you know that sperm counts actually increase significantly at that time of year? I myself am walking proof of this, a spring pregnancy now 27 weeks along after three and a half years of a real intention to have another. Maybe it was the spa – the 10,000 year old rainwater that bubbles up through the old Roman Baths at our city centre and has long been known to create healing – or maybe it was just spring.

In Sydney, where I lived until last year, the weather was important but I don’t recall it being quite as important as it seems to be here. When we first came over I noticed the daily conversations about the weather and I resisted for a time thinking it was some kind of British thing that I didn’t relate to. Right now as I sit here, the lady ordering her coffee and discussing the cold spell this morning with the barista is confirming this phenomenon – weather matters here.  And I’m starting to see why.

Over here in the south west of England, there aren’t heavy and dramatic tropical storms, but there might be light to medium drizzle for days on end with an accompanying blanket grey palette. No short sharp statement, but a long and seemingly unending squall on the soul. It forces you inside, it gets you damp and dank and everything around you is the same – the house, the washing, the mood. So of course people talk about it, and of course it has an affect.

The owner of the café I sit in right now was just saying how his patronage is reduced by 30% in summer because people around here feel a massive pressure to use the good weather when it’s around, not to waste it sitting inside drinking coffee.  

So when we talk about people with a ‘sunny disposition’ it is as if we are saying, ‘that person reminds me of summer’. If you’ve ever studied marketing, you‘ll know that brands are about how you feel when you experience them – like for example the black fizzy soft drink or the swoosh running shoe. Seasons are the same: they make us feel things.

In summer with the sun shining on your face walking through a field of grass, endorphins and serotonin are pumping through us – our very control centre shifts a gear and gives us all kinds of free hormonal joy rides. It doesn’t stop there. Eating seasonally ensures greater nutritional value as levels of vitamins and minerals peak in fresh food that has not travelled long distances nor been grown in artificial environments out of season. 

So yes, even though we may live in a garden (the city), we are still borne of the jungle (wilderness). And even though we wear clothes and drive cars and live in built environments, we are still subject to the laws of nature. Indeed we remain physiologically animal.

On that basis I recommend that we attempt at every possible opportunity to connect with nature, to remember our wild souls and to surrender to the laws of the environment. From this we may only benefit, we may become more a part of the world we depend on for existence, we may respect nature and its needs and impositions and even hopefully work with it to the betterment of ourselves and all other beings on the planet. So now you see where I was going with this?

Smile. Breathe. Take a walk outside, no matter the weather. Remember you are and will always be connected to the greatness that is nature and the seasons, consciously or not. 

[letters-to-omi]

Thank Goodness The Gulls Are Seasonal

I awoke today to the soothing sounds of local birdlife, reminiscent of the ‘chicha’ I remember from the tropics of Bali - small lizards that scatter the walls and ceilings whose name is the same as the sound the make. 

It took me a moment to realise that the season for crazy loud gull conventions seems to have passed. Phew! I was so concerned earlier in the year when we moved into our place in the centre of this small city that the squawking, dinosaur-like creatures were here all the time. 

It’s a weird Bath phenomenon really. We are 90 minutes drive from the nearest ocean and yet in the Spring and early Summer the centre of town is taken over by these almost reptilian birds. They poo on everything - your windows, your cars, your shoes as you walk. Then they sort through the garbage - on the pavement after they’ve ripped open the garbage bags and spread it half way down the street. And unlike the Australian gulls I grew up with, they are GIANT, standing about 30cm tall and 40 long. When I first saw them I thought, ‘You’ve got to be joking, is that how big they all are?’. 

Thankfully, for now, the season has passed, and we get to go back to occasional sightings in the sky, far less reasons to clean your car every day and a decent soundscape of more dainty birds each morning. 

Thank goodness the gulls are seasonal.  

[letters-to-omi]

07.08.2016

The fun continues in this - very inconsistent - British Summer. 

I know it’s called Summer, however I’ve been struggling to consider it as such until the last couple of weeks. I understand why the British talk about weather so much - it seems there is always something to talk about because it changes so often. This year there has been so much rain and cold weather over summer that the shops have been having sales because there clothes are not selling (I feel like I’ve mentioned this before - the weather obsession must be contagious here). 

Finally though, I’ve actually got a bit of brown skin and have broken a sweat more than once in the last 2 weeks. Yay!

Last weekend we went to Camp Bestival for 3 nights with some friends of ours who have two young kids. Camp Bestival is a festival held at Lulworth Castle close to the Jurassic Coast in Dorset. Going in to it I had no idea the size of the gathering - 30,000 people descending on the grounds of this stark old castle with a huge amount of kids activities, fields of food and music and port-a-loos.

J had an absolute ball, playing with a good friends almost her age for most of the time. He is 4 and she calls him ‘Chase’ from the show Paw Patrol that they both watch regularly. He was her favourite thing about the festival which is really saying something. 

We arrived and parked in a field about 2-300metres from the campsite (along with hundred of other revellers) on the Thursday afternoon. Our car was packed full of camping gear and with the help of a Volvo car promotion it was driven closer to the campsite. Thank you Volvo!! (You see, that promotion really worked). 

We got our wristbands and set up camp. I say “we”, but really I was spared most of the heavy lifting (thank you pregnancy) and was very well looked after by Rich and his mates the whole weekend. 

The next few days were spent dragging the kids around in a trolley we hired, dressing up in costume for the Saturday night, seeing a fantastic brass band and dancing around with the kids, and staying up late on Saturday night to see a DJ named Fat Boy Slim - still with the kids in tow. It was super fun. 

Sunday we pulled down our camp and after a few final hours of wondering around and seeing a few things we’d missed, we set off home. All in all it was a great fun weekend… and the weather was amazing I have to admit. 

This weekend, we’re off again. A few days in Dartmouth and then to St Ives Cornwall for 5 nights. 

Dartmouth is a small and very popular old fishing village, now quite classy small town, in Devon. There is a little harbour opening out to the sea, a hell of a lot of seagulls and lots of nice shops, cafes and restaurants. This is where Rich’s parents have a small townhouse for holidays. We are staying there, right in the middle of town and a block from the sea. 

Tuesday we’ll head to Cornwall and I’m so excited to go there. Looking forward to more good weather, some family time, and a white sandy beach!

Sending lots of love, 

A xo

[letters-to-omi]

25.07.2016

This weekend past we headed off to Wales to an off-grid farm (not connected to mains electricity and water), the home of my sister-in-law (Olli’s) Dad and his partner. They have lived for 17 years on this beautiful property in a forest by a waterfall. The surrounding hills are dotted with sheep on rolling green pastures and the vegetation is lush and deep. The farm produces some meat which is sold to locals seasonally, as well as enough food from the garden to help with the needs of its owners. They also have a couple of horses that they ride around the nearby countryside, and some chickens for eggs. There are a few working cats to catch the field mice and a couple of dogs to help herd the sheep. 

I was shown briefly through the walled garden by the woman and gardener of the house, and was so impressed with how much food could be produced in this relatively difficult soil conditions. There is an array of berries, and a variety of vegetables growing outside and in the poly-tunnel. It is a very beautiful and abundant space. 

On Friday night we got to eat with the ‘grown ups’ of the farm and also with my brother and his friends who had pitched tents on the lawn to celebrate a 30th birthday. Such feasts! We sat outside on a table-cloth covered wooden table and enjoyed the temperate evening air. Lucky for us Olli’s Dad and his friend played music for us - a guitar and a double-bass. Soon enough Rich joined in on guitar and I sang a couple of songs. We slept soundly in the quiet and peaceful night in a very comfortable bed in the farmhouse thanks to the hospitality of our hosts. 

The next morning it was up for long and chatty breakfast with everyone gathering in the farm kitchen to make their various morning foods. I had made a yummy batch of spelt banana bread which went down well. 

Mid morning, brother and I called in to do our speeches at Mum’s Birthday party in Sydney - thanks to technology. We had sister on the line in Montreal and us in the farm house in Wales connecting with the cocktail party in Australia. It all worked out well and we felt grateful to connect in lieu of attending. 

Later that day we headed off to Olli’s home town of BIshop’s Castle. It’s a large village of around 1600 people in an area called Shropshire. The town has a lovely feel about it and we had a nice walk through on Sunday to a local pub for a bite to eat. I’m looking forward to visiting again and getting to know it better. On account of being pregnant all I really wanted to do was eat and sleep but it was fantastic to get some quality time with my brother. 

Meanwhile Rich went on to run a half marathon up and down Mount Snowdon finishing 32nd our of 360 competitors. After the race he picked us up and we headed home through the now drizzly countryside to Bath.   

[letters-to-omi]

12.07.2016

Like a true British resident I will know talk to you about the weather. It has been extremely inconsistent and I have no idea how to dress at the moment. If I wear a sundress and sandals, it seems to rain, and if I wear tights and a cardigan the sun comes out. Not that it is very warm when the sun comes out, but just enough to get a light sweat on if you’re not wearing a sundress! Yesterday it rained in the morning and then the sun shone intermittently all afternoon. This morning it is cool, a bit like a Sydney Autumn basically. Nothing like moving to England to help m appreciate the Sydney weather. 

On the weekend we helped Mr 12 with some of his homework - a Medieval scrapbook of Bath (some of the original wall around the city is still left standing just around the corner) - and spent some time sourcing furniture. Rich hired a van and went around picking up various bits and pieces we were missing at home. I’m thrilled to now have a sofa in our front room to lounge on. It makes big difference when you have a bumpy belly. Little one also got a kids wardrobe for her room, in fact her first wardrobe, which she is very excited about. She now dresses herself every morning with great pride and is wearing her ‘pretty dresses’ as these are now the hanging clothes. Her room look great. 

Saturday night we had a family movie night. There’s a large cinema around the corner from our house (the joys of living in the town centre) so we went and saw Ice Age 4. It was pretty good - although sitting in an upright chair for an hour and half is not my favourite thing to do at the moment (yep, it’s the belly thing again). 

Sunday was a lovely day and J and I went for a long walk around town and went for a flat white and a baby ‘cino. I even read the paper for a while. Rich went for a long run (as he’s doing a race in a few weeks). We were then invited to a new friend’s place for a barbecue which was so nice. This couple me each other in Mexico and now live here - he is Engish, she is Mexican. Their daughter is J’s best friend at nursery.  It was a lovely afternoon of Mexican style hot dogs, beautiful cucumber and lime drinks and the Wimbledon final. A very short Wimbledon final it was too with Murray (UK) beating Raonic (Canada) in 3 straight sets. Raonic reminds me of Clark Kent from Superman so of course I was going for him. It was Murray’s second Wimbledon win and he cried for about 5 minutes, it was so moving. He was really humble and his post-win on-court interview was basically all about Raonic. 

You may be pleased to know that yesterday I met with a representative of the local Rotary club. I was investigating joining. A lovely retired man named Rodney came to meet me. He used to be a manager of a local buildings society and now works voluntarily in a special needs school. We talked extensively for over an hour at the local golf club. We talked about Opa of course and I told him of how I used to go to meetings and events when I was growing up. I remember dinners at the Hunters Lodge in Double Bay. 

The main club here is a group of over 70 (mostly retired) men. As you can imagine it would be interesting to join as the only young woman. I’m not sure if I have the time at the moment, but it’s something I will do as soon as I can. The lovely thing was that in an email following the meeting he said “I don’t have any doubts that Rotary is for you…..our short discussion was sufficient to convince me that you certainly have the right culture and ideals which would make you and exceptional member.” He has invited me to come to a meeting as his guest after the holiday period. I was chuffed. 

Today is a school day for J and tomorrow I go to see the midwife - 15 weeks now. Life goes on. Next week Mr 12 flies to Australia to see his Dad and hopefully will visit you also. 

Lots of Love, 

A xo 

[letters-to-omi]

08.07.2016

Well, it’s Friday and this is the day we do classes for young J. She has a class at Dinkies in the morning - Dinkies is the very young theatre students at the Theatre Royal. This is the theatre we live across the road from so it’s not a long commute. Today the theme was ‘the seaside’, and of course I just kept thinking ‘why don’t they just call it the beach?’. Though I guess over here the seaside could be rocks or all manner of things, and not always the beach as we are accustomed to in Australia. 

J loves the class, she imaginary swims and imaginary sunbathes and imaginary collects seashells. It’s very cute. Next on the agenda is lunch - today it was pasta, tortilla wrap and apple. A little bit of relaxing after lunch and then we are off to “Little Dancers”, or ballet class for toddlers. This is almost my favourite half hour of the week. I sit and chat with a new friend - another mum who is also pregnant - and watch the girls prance around and twirl and curtsey. It’s pretty heart-melting. 

This evening we won’t have the traditional Friday night dinner, mainly because Rich and Isaac are going to pick up a small sofa for our front room. I’m extremely excited because I will then have somewhere comfortable to sit. As you can imagine this is very important when you have a growing belly. Yay!!

I’ll write more over the weekend, 

lots of love and cuddles x 

[letters-to-omi]

Bath Life

This life we are creating here in Bath is busy (but not too busy), and warmly social (from time to time). Most of all, it is relatively simple. Traffic can be congested, but usually it’s good. When it is congested it most often is only for short periods of time. The parking can be difficult but that is only because we live right in the centre of town, and most times it is very easy. The city is thriving but at the end of every street is a beautiful green belt, a calming vista of green hills and (at this time of year) large and bushy trees.  

Yesterday I had another one of those moments whilst walking the streets on a video call to my sister of ‘sometimes-I-can’t-believe-this-is-where-we-live’. It’s such a beautiful city - the architecture, the somerset countryside that hugs it, the richly populated city centre with its many restaurants, artisans and retailers. It’s almost like a very exotic version of Wollongong in some ways, only an hour and a half or so from the centre of London, but a million miles from it psychologically. I certainly am glad we made the decision to live outside a big city for now. 

So an average day for us at the moment goes like this. 

6:30am Wake up and get the breakfast on the boil (sometimes me, sometimes husband).

7:30 Wake up son and get him moving for school. Husband goes to work. 

8:00 Son to school, getting daughter ready for nursery (3 days a week) 

8:30 Walk 15 mins through town to nursery, or do some cooking and crafts with her, perhaps go for a walk if it’s a non-nursery day. 

9:00 Do some writing and reading and maybe a bit of work. Make some calls etc. until end of the day. 

4:00 Pick up daughter, start on dinner. 

6:00-6:30 Dinner

7:00 Homework time for son/tidying up for me

8:00 Winding down, getting daughter to bed 

9:00 Bed for grown ups!

AND REPEAT

Maybe sometimes there’s a coffee or a lunch in there for me and a girlfriend, and possibly some play dates for daughter during the week, but that’s about it. Simple, right? 

There are certainly things I miss of home: things like you, Omi, and my Mum and friends of course. A big thing I really miss is the ocean and the air in Sydney, there’s a particular scent and feel that comes from living near the Pacific. And certainly those things call me back to Australia, no doubt. I’m sure that call will become stronger over time, but I will have to bring my way of living simply back with me. 

Not much more to report for now. Our magic jelly bean baby is growing well, now 14 weeks into the pregnancy and all feeling good. No more nausea, no more heartburn for now - which is wonderful. 

Sending love from across the world. 

xo Alena

[letters-to-omi]

Letter from Omi, April 2016

I publish the replies my grandmother sends so that you can see that this really is an authentic dialogue between me in Bath, England, and my grandmother in Sydney, Australia.

Dearest Alena,

Sorry I missed your call. I loved hearing your voice

Please congratulate Isaac for me – I am very proud of him and I am sure he will do it again.

Please let me know of his doings at school.

What a coincidence meeting the man from Magdeburg. Keep well.

Love to all

Omi

[letters-to-omi]

Origins, And How They Turn Up in the Strangest Places

Three months in, and we are starting to get into the swing of this place.

Bath is a classic Rugby town. The Bath Rugby Club celebrated its 150th anniversary last year making it one of the longest established in the world.  Last week Mr 12 and I went to a home game as a guest of one of the players and his lovely fiancé. They very generously invited us along to get to know Isaac after I had reached out to them to help him connect with some of his . I was potentially hanging out with the only three Maoris in the whole of Bath that night. It was a cracker of an evening complete with questionable refereeing and our friend scoring the only try of the game for Bath. 

After the on-field shenanigans we went to the lounge to wait for Leroy Houston, a very talented player and our very new friend. We spent some time with his beautiful fiancé and my boy told her all about his interests, in full descriptive detail, as is his wont. 

Walking home several distinct groups of grown men were virtually falling in our wake as they murmured, “Is that a signed Bath Rugby ball?” from the pub doorways with their post-game lagers in their hands. Mr 12, oblivious to the fuss, was kicking it down the road much to my chagrin at his disregard for the apparent value of the thing.

Later on this week I went to a major mobile phone provider to get a contract for phone calls. I walked into the store only to be greeted by an extremely polite and quite charismatic young man with Johnny Depp eyes and a great service attitude. We got chatting, as is normal for me in any kind of service situation. I like to be friendly to the staff after years of being the staff myself.

On hearing his accent which sounded like an imitation of an American accent I asked him where he was from, expected somewhere in North America to be his answer. Turns out, he was German and had only learned English from an American. At that I of course mentioned my own German heritage and for some reason, purely intuitively, I mentioned the small town that Omi and Opa originally came from. Magdeburg is the capital of the State of Saxony-Anhalt, situated on the Elbe Rive in east Germany, around 130 km west of Berlin.  It’s funny, because I wouldn’t normally mention it, but something about the friendliness of the man and his general likability got it out of me. Turns out, you guessed it, that’s where he grew up. In fact his family is still there. Crazy, huh?

So we chatted and I talked about how I would like to go there. I guess for him it’s not that unusual to meet people from the town he grew up in. For me though, that is an absolute first. It was a delight. I was so glad he was a nice person. 

Somehow meeting up with the Maoris and the Magdeburgians of Bath has helped me feel a teeny tiny bit more at home here. It’s nice to find another home to call home.

[letters-to-omi]

13.03.2016

It is morning, and I am sitting at a large window sill using the ledge as my desk with the window directly behind the computer screen framing a view over a beautiful green field slowly filling with the morning sun. This weekend I am helping the teachers of a course in Permaculture at Ragman’s Farm in Gloucestershire.

Permaculture is a design system, a way of thinking that involves observing and considering the way that nature works in say the ecology of a forest, and then mimicking that system in the way you design… well, anything really. You can apply it to the design of a garden and food production (this is the most commonly applied use of permaculture) but you can also apply it to human communities, or businesses or even a wedding (like we did at ours). The basic ethics at the heart of this way of thinking are: care of the earth, people care and fair shares. 

There are ten students and two teachers and we are all staying for the weekend. It is an interesting mix of folk from all around England, including one man who has flown from the Channel Islands and another lovely Portuguese woman who is currently volunteering on a farm down the road. I came to be here because I realised that since qualifying as a Permaculture Designer at Milkwood Farm I had not really been involved with this global community at all. (That was that time a few years ago when mum came over to help with Jemima for week so I could jet off to a farm in remote western NSW and learn.)

When we arrived in England I looked into doing some teaching here and realised that I was too early in my teacher training to qualify easily as a teacher here. It was then that I remember the main reason I learned to be a teacher was because I wanted to teach young people about permaculture. It was such a relief to recall the purpose of that year of intense study and come back to it. So I literally looked on a map and searched for the closest Permaculture course, and low and behold there it was in mid March. Thankfully my very supportive husband encouraged me to head off into the hills on my own and participate. The very generous teachers of the course also welcomed me and housed me and fed me for the weekend and it’s been just wonderful to reconnect.

Yesterday we did a tour of the farm and this quite small holding is producing so many different types of food as well as employing 30 people a year in a rural setting, which is great for the local economy. There are mushrooms, fruit, annuals like lettuce and greens and a whole lot more. The man who owns the farm has been one of the teachers on the course and the permaculture pedigree is quite strong here. One of the most well known books on the subject was written by a man who was based here – it is called The Earthcare Manual by Patrick Whitefield.

So I’ve had the great privilege of being able to spend a whole weekend learning more about permaculture (because there is always more to learn) and supporting the teachers and students. Such fun!

I’m really looking forward to returning to my week ahead in Bath with renewed energy and clarity on how to incorporate the principles and values I have been learning about here into my day to day as well as my professional life – earth care, people care, fair shares.

[letters-to-omi]

27.02.2016

Dear Omi, 

First, we arrived - but that feels like quite a long time ago now really... we have been so incredibly busy setting things up here that time has been moving at an unusual pace. 

In the last few weeks things have really been coming together. We moved into our beautiful four-storey home, right in the centre of town and facing the original facade (now rear) of the Theatre Royal. At my desk right now I look to my right and I see passers by strolling across the 12-pane window I look through, I see a member of staff or two having a break at the back door of the theatre across the Square from us - Beauford Square is in fact a rectangular patch of green grass which is fenced off with a classic black-painted wrought iron fence that looks like a row of upside down arrows stuck in a base of sandstone. 

Our large black door seals as it shuts and it is lovely and warm in here despite the chill in the air outside. It is still around 5 degrees celsius most days. There have been peaks of Spring through, with one day this past week surprising us with  hours of sunshine and surprisingly little wind or rain. Overall, I don’t really mind the weather, and winter fashion is a favourite anyway. 

Day to day we are beginning to establish a routine. J is in care two days a week at a fantastic daycare, and I is enjoying school, making new friends, playing a lot of football. I have begun to make some acquaintances. K is a girl a bit younger than me that reminds me quite a bit of my sister, and G is a vibrant and fun kindred spirit with whom I share quite a bit in common. I’ve also managed to somehow come across two other Australian women who I am looking forward to meeting up with. One i introduced myself to in a cafe, the other is a mutual friend on social media. Yet a third I found randomly on Twitter of all places!

The town is a great one to explore,.. yesterday my friend K and I went for a stroll through Sydney Gardens and along the canal. I’ll put some pictures here below so you can see what I saw. It is so beautiful, the gardens are beautifully manicured and the old wrought iron work over bridges and around gates is quite decorative and made with such skill. The canal is I suppose my new water element, quite a contrast to the eastern seaboard of Australia. I do find myself missing the anchor and the aroma that the ocean consistently provided me for so many years in my many beachside homes in Sydney. Next week we will travel an hour and forty minutes to the nearest decent beach in Dorset. I can’t wait to sniff the air and get gritty feet as well as explore a new ocean and a new seaside vista.   

I guess one of the most amazing things about this adventure is that I can step out my front door, walk in any direction, and genuinely find myself somewhere I have absolutely never been before. Same with restaurants, of which there are many fine and varied ones in this town. 

Last weekend we went to stay with friends in and around London. On Saturday we had a huge lunch with 23 of us sitting around a big table and eating fancy pizza. There were 11 kids! After that we went for a walk in the grounds of an old castle which is being restored by the National Trust. The park around it is so big it takes hours to walk around it. The kids played in the windy cole weather climbing on old trees and running around, then we all went back to a friends place for wine and cheese and stayed the night. It was really nice to see Rich’s old friends and catch up with all the kids. 

Not much more to report for now. Will write more again soon, 

Love, Alena xo

[letters-to-omi]

Arriving in Bath

Dear Omi,

Thank you for your lovely message that I received with such delight. You write so beautifully and your choice of words is both evocative and transporting. I’m happy to hear you enjoyed your trip to Mum’s yurt in the bush and it must have been a pleasure to see Opa’s taste in fine interiors being carried on there. Come to think of it, that is something I remember clearly about your homes over the years, they always had a strong design ethic and attention to detail when it came to furnishings and decoration.

We are very much enjoying our stay so far in Bath. We are still in our temporary accommodation about 3 mile outside town in a village that is connected to the centre of Bath but still feels a thousand miles away. Southstoke has an historical air about it with many of its buildings - like the Old Vicarage that I can see now from the kitchen window - standing like stone sentinels to an earlier time. We are surrounded by fields and a scattering of sheep here, and even the occasional horse and rider pass by. The local pub, the Packhorse, unfortunately went out of business, though its not hard to see why with the very few visitors to this village. There are still handmade ‘Save the Packhorse’ signs scattered around withering in the frequent rain. 

Bath City Centre, which is where our new rental house is, has many things going for it. There are a variety of very nice shops, great cafes and restaurants, and a cosmopolitan and even posh feel about it in certain areas. On the other side, there are plenty of locally made products on sale, flower stalls on the closed off pedestrian streets and old-style butchers and shopfronts. It is a real mix of things.

The culture of the local people is a mix of down-home West Country (with its distinctive accented drawl) and London escapees who have come here for an alternative to life in the big smoke but still remaining within train distance from larger centres like Bristol and London itself. For the most part Bath is a place of welcoming and warmth to my great pleasure. 

Our new home is a Georgian townhouse with four stories from basement to top floor, a large garden and delightful views across a square to the old facade of the Royal Theatre. Although the facade become the back of the building, it is still a fully functioning theatre and we have been told to look our for famous people getting changed in the rooms opposite our place. It is made of Bath stone and seems a complete novelty to me. I’m very excited to be moving in... whenever our container load of belongings arrive. Due to engine troubles it looks as though our container is slightly delayed so we will likely be spending a few nights in the house sleeping on floors in empty rooms and eating out of pizza boxes, surely something the kids will never forget. 

In the centre of town is the Bath Spa and the original Roman Baths. I love that this town has always been a place of healing. In fact it is said that Bath was founded as a gesture of gratitude for the healing waters and their effects on a king who was relieved of a stubborn ailment.The new spa is stunning with its rooftop hot pool and several other bathing options throughout its buildings. The design of the place is interesting as it houses several original historical structures as well as new structures built to house the state of the art Spa and Healing Centre. The water is itself made of 10,000 year old raindrops heated 10 kilometres beneath the earth geothermally. 

The children have settled beautifully into schools - Miss 3 is happy in her new daycare and Mr 12 has made a fine start to his high school experience at the wonderful state school, Ralph Allen. Both are amazing to me in their adaptability and general well-adjusted natures. I struggle to claim a lot of credit for these but nonetheless find their general successes heartening as to the future of humanity. 

I’ll sign off for now and write more to you once I’ve settled into our new home. 

With love, A xo

[letters-to-omi]

Letter From Omi

Dearest Alena, 

How are things going for you in Bath ? I hear from Mum that you will be moving soon to your new place and Isaac is well settled in school. Hope Jemima enjoys her new daycare

Pleased you found something you like for your birthday.

I had a lovely Sunday with Mum and Alan at Reedbank. I was amazed when sitting inside the yurt. I felt I was in another world. Everything was picked out with so much thought and taste it reminded me of Opa. He chose everything with so much thought and taste too. The area is idyllic, and absolutely peaceful and relaxing and I thought to share my experience with you.

Lots of love, Omi

[letters-to-omi]

My Super Easy Family Friendly Guide to Rome

At the request of various friends and family travelling to Rome (or dreaming of travelling there) in the near future I have put together a quick list of places to go that I have enjoyed on our short trip here as a family of four. 

FOOD

In general I found the majority of trattoria, ristorante, osteria and taverna are just wonderful. You can expect to find a pretty high standard of simple Italian food in most places. If there is an English menu, you’ll likely pay a little bit more so don’t be scared to go into a relatively unobtrusive restaurant if you see a queue of locals out the front and bumble your way through. You might get some hot and cold receptions from the waitstaff, but that could pay off in value and quality. 

That said, here are a couple of semi-touristy favourites we discovered. 

Best gelato in the world  Gelateria Teatro, Via dei Coronari, 65, 00186 Roma

They don’t even have a website, though you can see a whole of online activity about this place here. Within walking distance from the Pantheon and on a street that runs almost directly off PIazza Navone, this is the closest thing to Gelato perfection you’re likely to find. The street that it is on has a lovely feel to it and offers some fantastic eye candy with shops such as Il Bisonte (exclusive leather handbags) as well as an Italian shoe outlet being worth a visit.Back to the gelato though, the absolute best ingredients are sourced from all over the world and you can watch them being made into sweet delights in the window next door. Their hot chocolate made from molten Peruvian chocolate is amazing, as is their cream which is whipped with full whole milk and offered with each serve of gelato. The flavours are wide and varied, my pick was pear and caramel (not as sweet as it sounds). This is a must-do in my opinion for any foodie or family in Rome. 

La Piccolo Cuccagna, Vicolo della Cuccagna, 13, 186 Roma

For a lovely classic Roman meal at a medium price point and still in the area of the PIazza Navone, try La Piccolo Cuccagna. It has been there since the 50s, the service is jovial and the food excellent. As with most ristorante in Rome, the house wine is lovely and comes at a reasonable price for a half litre - plenty to share between two adults over dinner. Everything we ordered was great and full of flavour. The decor inside is worth a look if you choose to sit outside along with a few signed celebrity photos on the wall by the kitchen entrance. 

THE SIGHTS OF ROME

The Pantheon

This was a favourite of mine for a few reasons. For one, it is free and there is no need to book to enter. Due to the fact that the Pantheon is the only ancient building that is not at all a ruin but in fact still in use, as it has been continuously for a couple of thousand years, you can just go and be there. It is in an unassuming piazza and can be found easily with any map of the area, like this one. My advice is to just check the website to ensure nothing special is going on when you are planning to visit. 

The Vatican

Considered an unmissable destination for visitors to Rome, I was not completely convinced by the experience personally. It is certainly worth considering but with a 3 year old and 12 year old in tow it is kind of stressful attending a giant museum with crowds of people (most of whom are in tour groups with earphones on and not particularly pram aware). There is a huge amount of walking too, so make sure you wear your comfortable shoes. It’s a really good idea to pre-purchase tickets online at the official website here. If you don’t you’ll be in for a hefty wait with the cast of thousands who didn’t book online. You don’t even need to print the tickets, the electronic version on the phone is fine (make sure you save it offline before heading out of wifi). We felt great going to the top of that line and it saves you and hour ore more of waiting. 

And by the way, the Museum entry is to the right of St Peter’s and you walk all the way around to the back of the main part of what we perceive as the Vatican to get to the entry. These tickets don’t take you anywhere near the main church.  

My favourite part of the Vatican was actually the map room. The funniest thing that happened was the Vatican Museum experience culminates in a visit to the Sistine Chapel which is talked up with signs posted all the way through the Museum. By the time I got there I was so antiquitied-out that I forgot to look for the classic image of the fingers touching. Didn’t realise I missed it till I got to the gift shop and saw the image of them everywhere. Doh!!

 The Colosseum Piazza del Colosseo, Rome

How to get there: the closest subway station is "Colosseo", on Line B of the Rome Metro, located on Piazza del Colosseo. The Colosseum is also reachable by tram 3. Opening hours: 8:30 to 16:30 (fall / winter), 8:30 to 19:15 (spring / summer)

This is a wonderful site that is filled with a real sense of history. Tours are expensive and you could potentially do just as well with watching a documentary like this one the day before you go, but if you enjoy the personal tour experience, then it could be worthwhile to do that. If you do book a tour then look up reviews on Trip Advisor or Viator before you go and book at least a week before to ensure you get a spot on a good one. 

Tickets again are best pre-purchased to skip long lines. Even then I’d recommend heading over there at opening time to ensure entry with minimal hassle. 

So that’s my initial wrap up of top tips for a visit to Rome. I’m totally happy to answer any questions as well, just shoot me a message with the ‘get in touch’ link below. 

Arrivaderci!  

[letters-to-omi]

Sant’Estachio, Rome (Part II)

Hard to believe it is our very last day in Rome for this trip. This last few days have had a kind of gentle rhythm to them. We get up, we eat breakfast either in our little apartment with food from the convenience store around the corner (including really great prosciutto and excellent eggs) or go to a nearby restaurant for an indulgence. We then wander the small cobbled streets, either with or without a particular destination in mind. I can’t even exactly recall all the various places we have eaten. It feels like we are having meals every couple of hours, there are just so many options.

Yesterday we attended a museum of Leonardo Da Vinci’s machines as we were drawn in by huge pictures of his wooden creations that were strung up around the entrance. It was interesting to a point and then seemed a little bit contrived, and the real historical ruins that were encased in an excavated pit with a fence around them and immersed in water in their own room went unexplained, which was odd to me. I guess I must put it in the context of a place where ruins are mostly an inconvenience and can get in the way of the current life of the people here.

On the way back we stopped for an afternoon aperitif, taking the kids into the bar with us, as you do. As the day became night we found ourselves still walking around in large circles around our neighbourhood and taking in all the crowds and shops and street life that is so integral to this experience.

Today we visited the Vatican Museum and the Sistine Chapel. It is a curious experience largely defined by crowds of people (like most tourist destinations here) and a lot of hustlers on your approach attempting to sell you everything from tours to souvenirs to those god-awful ‘selfie-sticks’. We were very grateful to have pre-bought the tickets online and with only the electronic voucher on the phone were able to skip the queue that was hundreds deep to go straight in via the fast-track lane.

Once through security there is an unusual vibe. We shuffled from room to room and exhibit to exhibit. An impressive collection of Egyptian antiquities dating back at most 10,000 years is fascinating as well as un-nerving in that I couldn't help but feel they didn’t really belong here. Rooms upon rooms of paintings, frescoes, tapestries, maps, and statues culminate in the Sistine Chapel. It is filled with people with a lot o guards roaming around making sure nobody takes pictures.  A few are seating around the edges but otherwise it is a melange of people all trying to find a place to look up and around and take in all the artworks. It is so overwhelming I completely forgot until we got to the souvenir shop that I was supposed to look for the iconic two fingers touching that is so often associated with this artwork of Michelangelo’s.

With children, it is probably a really difficult undertaking considering the crowd to really absorb the magnitude and beauty of the works. On second thoughts, we could have taken turns and given each other a few minutes of grown-up time each.

After the chapel, you walk another kilometre or so of hallways and relics to the exit, by which time the crowds and artworks and antiquities start to blur together and it feels like time for a sit-down.

This afternoon we are doing a bit of work and re-packing our bags in readiness for saying farewell to Italia and travelling to England tomorrow. Isaac just got accepted into a high school that has a fantastic reputation in Bath so we are pretty excited about that.

Sending love and warm wishes from our final day in Italia. Will write more soon. xoxo

[letters-to-omi]

Sant’Estachio, Rome

Just back from dinner at a beautiful trattoria around the corner from our small apartment in Sant’Estachio. It is amazing to me how so many small restaurants and bars can exist in these seemingly obscure back alleyways and all of them are busy. There are restaurants literally everywhere in this area. And the majority of them are excellent. 

We have moved our group of four from Termini, near the Colosseum and the main train station in Rome, just across the Forum, past the giant building with the huge statues all over it that is only a hundred and fifty years old and less than ten minutes drive away. We are staying in a two-roomed apartment that we rented online. It is a basement that is lovely in its décor and kind of moist-smelling as you descend under the block of apartments above into our space. We feel really happy about having two rooms instead of sharing one between the four of us as we have for the past few weeks. Such first-world problems. 

This area is lovely – there are leather goods, clothes shops, world-renowned gelataria and restaurants in small cobbled streets that fan out from piazza after piazza. Fountains, churches and small moments of nostalgia and coolness are imminently discoverable. 

We have spent the last couple of days literally wandering from square (“piazza”) to square and from alley to alley, dodging motorbikes, taxis and cars with the intermittent crowds of people. There are sparkling lights strung up across from one side to the other that illuminate the wet cobbled streets in soft colour and people chat and meander and eat and drink and all seems well with the world. This morning we went to the Colosseum in the rain. It was strangely still in its antiquity despite being covered in large numbers of tourists, their umbrellas and their many tour guides. I decided to research the history myself (feeling qualified – I am a history teacher after all) rather than pay the 200 Euro for a kids’ tour. 

It felt good to tell stories and engage the family with the little I had crammed yesterday. The place is fascinating and bittersweet. The things it is famous for are ultimately brutal and bloody, with a death toll of a million slaves, convicted criminals and other performers as well as two species of animal – the Balkan lion and the north African elephant – notoriously sent to extinction by the demand placed on them by the hunting shows there.  Nonetheless, it is a world heritage listed building because of its sheer size and importance. The building is still the template for stadiums even 2000 years after is construction – by mainly Jewish slaves, and funded by the sacking of the 2nd Jerusalem temple. I had mixed feelings being there and being wowed by its glory.

Lunch was spent over another fortuitous meeting – an Italian friend who we know from Sydney taking us to a local eatery that spoiled us with the sheer delight of simple and tasty fare. We laughed, drank and ate thoroughly enjoying this understated establishment, typically humble in furnishings and delivering above expectation in flavour. Chairs too close together don't’ matter when the food and the half carafe of house wine are that good. I found yet another dish I would like to learn to make at home. Italian food was and is still one of my favourite cuisines the world over.

And the street art continues to bring me great joy.

[letters-to-omi]

02.01.2016 Rome, Italy

First, we arrived. We were in transit for around 36 hours (12 hours wandering around Tokyo, 12 hours in the air from Tokyo’s Narita Airport to Abu Dhabi Airport for several hours, and then 6 hours in the air to Rome). As soon as we arrived at Leonardo Da Vinci Airport it was very clear we were in a totally different place to where we had been. The space has an instantly grungy feel about it. My first impressions as we left the airport were that there is a level of activity and disorder here that is just integral to the Roman experience.

After only one or two hours of being here I thought if Rome were a real person it would be a cross between a funky, stylish and gregarious young friend and a very grumpy old man in need of some love. There is a combination of incredibly well-cared-for monuments and public places populated by hoards of tourists and locals mingled with a lot of quite dirty and neglected spaces. This impression however could be a result of us arriving on New Years Eve and staying in an area near Termini, the biggest bus and train station in central Rome. Like most areas around central transit stations in large cities, this one has a kind of edgy, dirty feel to it.

We are staying for the first few days in a hotel on the 5th floor of an old building. The lift is old and tiny, one of those ones in a cage where you can see all the cables and cogs working as it comes, and one which is rickety and seemingly unreliable compared to the new ones we have become used to in newer buildings. Our room is simple and we have three beds between four of us in a single room. There is scaffolding on the building with shade cloth over it (which looks like it’s been there for about ten years) though no construction work appears to be in progress. It just means our room is dark and our window opens to a shaded scaffold. On the up side the staff here are super friendly, the place is clean and hospitable, it is a hotel room in central Rome so I’m not complaining. It does make for an eerily silent and dark experience whenever we have any downtime in our room which is a funny kind of bubble to exist in.

We went out for an early dinner and let the jetlag get the better of us. This translated to sleeping through New Years Even despite being in a place that is well known for it’s New Years celebrations, and waking at around 4:30am on New Years Day. We headed out in search of some remnants of celebration and perhaps a bit to eat. There were quite a few dishevelled looking people wondering around on their way home. We walked less than 10 minutes down the road and stumbled upon the colosseum. It was such a wonderfully surreal experience as we approached this ancient stadium and began to realise where we were, and then a fight broke out a bus stop and I noticed I was wading through broken glass from the public revellers who had been drinking here the night before. Time to turn around.

New Years day was a fairly relaxed one getting acquainted with the local area and preparing for our week ahead. To our great delight, some good friends from home back in Sydney were here on tour and we met with them at the Trevi Fountain for an aperitif. After speaking on the phone my friend has asked “where shall we meet” and I had said, “well it can’t be that hard, let’s just meet at the spot where everyone throws their coins into the fountain”. I must have tempted the gods with my flippant comment. We arrived at the fountain and there were literally hundreds of people in a throng all around it. There were so many people in fact that you had to watch your eyes as you walked through the crowd as the ‘selfie-stick’ epidemic has taken over. This is a stick you attach your phone to so that you can take pictures of yourself. I had to laugh. The fountain itself is impressive in it’s grandeur and beauty. A statue of Poseidon stands front and centre with stone horses and people falling all about him and the Agua Virgine (the fresh water brought to Rome from the countryside) pours out and around and below.

Somehow miraculously we found our friends just as the sun was setting and meandered down picturesque allies full of people, trattoria, gelateria, leather goods and hawkers of more selfie-sticks and other trinkets. We talked and walked down the cobbled pathways and the crowds and then turned a corner and before us was the Pantheon, the longest consistently occupied building in Rome and perhaps all of Europe. It has been there and in use for over 2000 years. The foundations are 7 metres below the rest of Rome as with most older buildings and ruins because the city has been built upon the shoulders of it’s predecessors and that is how far higher it is now than then.  

We turned another corner and found a large church with looming columns and facing that a humble establishment selling alcohol which was just what were were after. We ordered four Campari Spritz and enjoyed the parade of antipasti that came with them – gherkins, olive paste on toast, some kind of pickled pepper delight and pretzels for the kids. It was lovely. There is something special about meeting up with people from home in a foreign place.