Tag Archives: Girl about town

Girl About Town: The Hayward Light Show

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This is the final post before the Easter break so I just wanted to pop on and say Happy Easter everybody! I’m heading home with Pete to spend time with family, planning an overnight getaway and culture filled day in Liverpool, some baking projects and downtime, to recharge before April arrives. I hope you all have a relaxing and fun-filled few days with people you love. xo

I can’t do art galleries. While others can look, feel and appreciate the skill and visuals, if it’s not “pretty” to look at, functional or historical then I just don’t get it. My brain isn’t wired that way. I’m always looking for an answer in amongst those little coloured dots, a hidden message in those scribbles. The solution to a centuries-old puzzle in a room full of butterflies or conveyed to us via the medium of oil paint… yeah, yeah, I know, I read too much Dan Brown when I should have been writing my dissertation and I regularly forget that I don’t live in a world of Horcruxes and Beedle the Bard.

Basically, unless there’s a curator there to talk me through it, art just stresses my puny brain out.

But, enough about my uncultured soul. Shall I tell you what I do like?

LIGHTS!

Nothing pleases my eye, my brain and my soul more than light! Soft light in my lounge for sofa snuggling, bright light over my front door to feel safe on arrival at home, daylight for wide-awakeness in the morning (and for doing make up) in my bedroom. Christmas lights, neon lights, festival lights, runway lights as you come in to land over your home city. You can keep your Caribbean beach scenery, rolling hills around the Med, the African bush, the Aussie outback and Santorinian calderas… nothing makes me catch my breath like a cityscape seen from on high, blinking to life as the sun sets and a galaxy of twinkles emerges to mirror the stars above (that we so rarely see these days)… sigh.

Nature’s great, but for me, a surge of electricity pulsing a current through wire filament in a gas-filled glass tube is better!

Sorry. I’m a philistine.

To that end, when I saw the exhibition Light Show advertised at the Hayward Gallery I thought it would make a good Mother’s Day present/activity from me and my Baby Bro. I then also realised that my father, who has worked with lighting for years, might also be interested in attending (d’oh!), so I booked tickets for the four of us and set about planning our family day out.

The exhibition starts off with, what is in my opinion, the most amazing piece of the show, Cylinder II by Leo Villareal. It was transfixing. I could have stood there for hours to watch it rise and fall, glitter and sparkle, pulse and oscillate, as patterns of light were born and died in front of my eyes. Each a unique pattern, never to be seen again. I didn’t want to look away in case I missed something even more amazing. Sadly, photography isn’t allowed, but then again, no iPhone snap would do it justice. If I one day won the lottery I would have one of these installed in my dining room.

From there the installations varied from tiny motorised sculptures to large interactive exhibits and whole rooms where you can even become part of the Light Show yourself, my favourite being You and I , Horizontal (ooo eer!) by Anthony McCall. Along the way I found not just examples of aesthetically pleasing light-art, but also instances of mesmerizingly-good scientific/mathematical calculations masquerading as art, as demonstrated in Jim Campbell‘s Exploded View (Commuters). Some items were funny, particularly Throw by Ceal Floyer which actually made me chuckle to myself, some made me feel (inexplicably) a bit sad, like Lamentable by Francois Morellet, while others were just a bit dull (naming no names!). It all adds to the variety.

I really enjoyed the Chromosaturation rooms by Carlos Cruz Diez which highlighted to our little group the amazing effect light and colour has on us as human beings, not just on our bodies, but on our moods and our interactions with those around us.

I’d also like to say a special thank you to Ivan Navarro for his Reality Show which caused me great embarrassment as I attempted to recreate Justin Timberlake’s Rock Your Body video, forgetting I was “hidden” behind one-way glass! You can take the girl out of Essex…

If you’re in the area, I’d highly recommend it popping in for an hour or two. You can buy tickets here and can download an exhibition guide in advance for swotting up on your installation art here.

I’d also like to point out that we visited at around midday on a Saturday, and it surprised me there were a lot of children in attendance. It hadn’t occurred to me that it would be something that would appeal to those of a young age, being as it’s a gallery and there’s no touching/running/talking/fun allowed etc, but watching the kids interact with the exhibits and squeal with delight as they saw the effect they could have on the light made me realise that it’s actually a good place to take children – so if you’re holding back because of little ones, don’t! Equally, if you don’t like your outings kid-free, go at non-child-friendly times so as not to ruin your enjoyment of the lights!

So, after all this arty-farty ness, I’m feeling pumped for more gallery visits. Does anyone have any recommendations?

Victoria
x

PS! Find Victoria over on her blog Sugar Plum Slipper or on twitter @VictoriaHale.

Girl about Town: Spice Girl Saturday

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Are you female? Were you in your teens at some point in the nineties? Do you love cheesy tunes and plain old silly fun?

If so, then read read on.

When I look back on my school life and my teenage years, I see a montage of scenes flash past my eyes in vivid colour, at full volume, on fast forward and with the Spice Girls featuring heavily in the soundtrack (along with some Alanis Morisette, Robbie Williams, Madonna and some Pure Garage mix tapes – hey – don’t judge me!)

I loved the Spice Girls. Correction, I LOVE the Spice Girls. I’ve loved them since they first mimed Wannabe on breakfast TV. They inspired us to dress like divs (seriously – those Buffalos were just insane!), dance like mad girls, perform their hits in the school talent shows (prompting rows with rival groups in the playground) and shout “GIRL POWER” as a response to anything and everything.

They had attitude but weren’t bitches. They inspired outfits/hairstyles but weren’t really fashionable (sorry, Posh, you just weren’t!). They were naughty but they weren’t bad girls. They wore skimpy outfits but they weren’t slutty. They weren’t the best singers, the best dancers, the best actresses or the best looking, but in my humble, musically uneducated opinion (Penny will perhaps argue otherwise!) they were the original and BEST girl group. They worked hard, put the time and effort in, took control and responsibility, they gave it their all and seemed to have so much fun whilst they were doing it, and most importantly, they did it for the girls, not for the boys. Yes, I’m looking at you Pussy Cat Dolls! For me they were inspirational role models, and, really, when I look at them as Spice Women, they still are. Anyway, I digress.

As a big fan, I hustled hard to get tickets when they reformed for a live tour a few years ago and followed every rumour about them performing in the Olympics closing ceremony with glee. When I heard about the proposed musical being written I was over the moon and when tickets for Viva Forever! went on sale, I rounded up my musical theatre/dance school/cheese-loving friends (my “cool” friends still judge me for my love of the Spices!) and demanded that we all buy tickets… and dress up. They stalled and stalled and wouldn’t commit to a date and I started to lose hope. I thought my friends had lost their love of cheese. That would have been a sad day.

As it happens, they were stalling because they had purchased tickets for me as a Christmas present! Yippeeeeeeeeeeee

So, a few weekends ago, the five of us were discussing plans (read: “politely arguing about which Spice we were dressing up as”) when I discovered that Harvey Nichols were doing a Viva Forever! themed afternoon tea and cocktail menu in their Fifth Floor Bar and Season restaurant. Well that put the “which Spice am I?” discussions to bed, as we felt it improper turn up at Harvey Nics in full out 90s fancy dress. I mean, no one wants to see someone’s pants peeking from under a too-short Union Flag dress or five girls face-planting on the floor due to ridiculously heavy platform trainers whilst trying to enjoy their afternoon tea, do they?

The afternoon tea started off with mini savoury bites: a cured beef and chutney bagel, an egg and cress roll, smoked salmon on pumpernickel and chicken and chutney roulade in fresh white bread, which we all wolfed down in our excitement to get to the sweet treats: the Sporty Spice cake pop, the Baby Spice mousse (served in a bottle), the Ginger Spice Union Flag lemon and ginger mille feuille, the Scary Spice chilli and chocolate roll (complete with white chocolate leopard print, ahem, decoration) and the Posh Spice Harvey Nics-branded marzipan and Victoria sponge (of course) handbag. There were also the usual scones with jam and clotted cream on the menu too.

In terms of cocktails, we began with some from the standard menu (with which we were already familiar, following our cocktail masterclass back in the summer) and then we worked our way through the themed cocktails, which were delicious. It was difficult to select, but in the end I was happy with my choice of the Scary (Fresh chilli, lychee liqueur topped with Champagne), although I did manage to take a sip of all of them. We then spent the rest of the afternoon talking about our favourite Spice (mine’s Victoria – obviously), our favourite songs (mine being Who Do You Think You Are) dance routines (Spice Up Your Life) and generally making a spectacle of ourselves singing, laughing and pinning the themed bows from our cocktail glasses in our hair and to the head of our rather attentive waiter.

We were cutting it too fine to use public transport, and so, in true Spice Girls style we hailed a cab, ran down the middle of the road, piled in and squeaked, squawked and sang all the way to The Piccadilly Theatre. On arrival we were offered the opportunity to be “upgraded” to the Ambassador Lounge, a small private room with a dedicated waiter to bring us drinks and nibbles before the show and during the interval “for only a small fee”. Of course we accepted and it was all pretty exciting as it was the room the Spices themselves had used when visiting the theatre to watch the show (you can arrange this facility in advance by calling the theatre). We ordered some bubbly to sip before the show, which we then decanted in to plastic flutes to take in to the stalls with us and chatted with the waiter about any Spice Girl gossip he could give us (none!) before heading in to the show.

I won’t ruin the story line, but the same vein as Mamma Mia and We Will Rock You, the story is just a vehicle for the songs to be introduced and you can see them coming a mile off. But, as a Spice Girls fan, guessing what’s coming is one of the best bits. There are a few surprises in there too – listen out for them!

I’m not a theatre critic so I won’t analyse the staging, casting (although there were two stand outs) or scripting but it has Jennifer Saunders written all over it, which is a good thing in my book. There’s more than a hint of Eddie, Patsy and Bubble in amongst the main characters and I swear I heard one of Patsy’s Ab Fab lines crop up. If you loved Ab Fab, Ugly Betty, Glee and The Catherine Tate Show you’ll love the characters. If you follow(ed) shows like X Factor and Pop Idol you’ll recognise parodies of some very prominent characters from Saturday night TV and you’ve read Ben Elton’s Chart Throb then you’ll get the underlying message. Basically, if you read this paragraph and know what the hell I’m wittering on about, then we’re on the same wavelength and you’ll really enjoy it!

I chose not to read the reviews, but I heard that the critics panned it. Come on. It’s not Les Mis, but if you don’t expect it to be, and you can just appreciate it for what it is, then you’ll have fun. When else can you go to the theatre and, during a touching romance scene, put your arms in the air, cling tight to your best girls and sing along to 2 Become 1 at the top of your voice or stand up in the aisles and howl with laughter through the original dance routine along with the cast and the rest of the audience to Stop or Spice Up Your Life?

My suggestion? If you don’t take yourself or your theatre choices too seriously, and, of course, if you are a Spice Girls fan then get your glittery platforms on, round up your best girls for a some pre drinks and go see it!

SPICE UP YOUR LIFE!

Victoria
x
  • Read more about the Viva Forever Champagne Cocktails here and the Viva Forever Afternoon Tea here.
  • Book tickets and find out more about Viva Forever, the show, here.

PS! Find Victoria over on her blog Sugar Plum Slipper or on twitter @VictoriaHale.

#JanuaryJoy – Do something/Go somewhere you have never been before

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Today’s prompt seemed like the perfect time to hear from Victoria with her monthly Girl About Town post, particularly as she is always doing things I have never done before. Today’s prompt is intended to get us all out of a January (or maybe long-standing  rut. I think that doing new things, trying new stuff and going to new places is what makes life fun and exciting and keeps life fresh. It’s also great for your relationship. Discovering new things together is key to a relationship and if you choose to do this prompt with a friend then having something new to go home and share with your other half is just as good.

I’ve been thinking about some of the things I want to try and so far I have come up with two – I’d love you to share yours in the comments box after reading Victoria’s post!

  • Take a snowboarding class (I ski but have never tried to board!)
  • Go to the opera – something I have just never gotten around to…

Do something/go somewhere you have never been: History lessons with a twist

I know that all my talk of cocktails, shoes and afternoon tea may leave you surprised when I say that I’m a big fat history geek. As in, I see David Starkey crop up in that information box at the bottom of the screen when flipping through the channels and I’m rendered unable to move from the sofa. Despite giving it up in year nine at school (I thought it was a tedious and boring subject  – turns out, that was just the teacher) I’ve been surrounded by a family full of history buffs all my life and so I seem to have picked up the obsession by osmosis (you’ll tell by the misuse of this science reference that I’m clearly not a science geek, nor Brian Cox fangirl). The past, I now realise, has always been fascinating to me. It’s why I prefer stately homes to art galleries. It’s why, although chick lit is a big fat no on my reading list, chick lit disguised as historical fiction is a-ok (I’m talking to you Philippa Gregory), it’s why although I hate soap operas, my Sky+ is full of costume dramas (basically just soap operas in longer skirts) and why every fancy dress party I throw has some kind of dress code/theme from eras past.

So in that vein, I’m telling you about some little day trips I made to see some stories from our recent past, and one from prehistoric times!

Cabinet War Rooms and the Churchill Museum, Westminster, London

My bro is the biggest history buff of my whole family clan, so for his birthday we all paid a visit to the Cabinet War Rooms. I knew of their existence through the Imperial War Museum, and because my uncle used to work for the Home Office and mentions them a lot, but had never paid a visit as I still to this day have nightmares about the Blitz experience and the trench walk we did when I was a child. I’m also a bit claustrophobic about airless, underground rooms, but seeing as people lived and worked in those rooms for years, to preserve the freedom of our country, I thought I could suck it up and get on with it.

Anyway, back to the actual Rooms. You enter through a sleek sliding glass door at street level, and head straight down under ground to buy tickets and collect the rather good audio guides, before commencing the self-guided tour. It starts with the Cabinet room, set up exactly as it would have been when Churchill held his meetings here with the original furniture (no reproductions!), maps and even the original “graffiti”. It’s literally like you’ve stepped back in time with the sights, sounds and even smells of a defining era of our history assaulting every sense in your body. The whole set up gave me shivers when I realised that in these dingy, dark, uncomfortable, slightly shabby rooms, the fate of the world was decided by a few dedicated men and women (and a few animals too).

The commentary on the audio guide, much like the audio guide at Alcatraz (renowned for its excellence), is punctuated with real life reports from people that lived and worked in the warren of underground rooms, and the sound effects of bustling corridors, whistling guards and whirring machines add an eerie sense of reality to the tour.

Halfway round the tour you segue in to the Churchill Museum, with modern and interactive exhibits to really make it stand apart from the early- to mid-century set up in the Cabinet War Rooms themselves. It makes you feel like you’re actually getting two tours/exhibits for the price of one. The museum is laid out along a time line of Churchill’s life and is full of artefacts, reports, videos and blood-stirring excerpts from his speeches. It’s an amazing insight in to the well-known but also the hidden parts of the life of one of the most famous men in British, if not World, history.

If like me you’re also fascinated not just by the history and the life stories, but also the idea of international espionage, then the little details like the secret telephone room and colour coded telephone receivers will really capture your imagination. My favourite part of the tour was the map room, which was set up exactly how it was found, including the map pins left in the place on the day the war ended, the staff left and the lights were switched off and there they remain to this day. It was also rather endearing to see little touches like carpets and little flourishes of extravagance that were clearly added in an attempt to make this subterranean world more homely for the people that called it both The Office and Home.

As an aside, in the gift shop (there’s always a gift shop!), look past the “Keep Calm” posters and take note of the wartime propaganda notices about keeping your house and life in order. I bought postcards for all my team to pop up on their desks, and interestingly they contain messages that are as appropriate today as they were then, just for different reasons. Amongst others, ones that were particularly relevant to me were: “Less shopping means less shipping!”, “Go through your wardrobe: Make do and mend!” and “Eat less bread”

Titanic Belfast, Northern Ireland

I did know that Titanic was built in Belfast, but it also kind of slipped my mind. It’s one of the facts about Titanic that disappeared behind a wall of fiction in my memory, created by James Cameron. Everything I now “know” about the ship centres around a certain floppy haired actor and a porcelain skinned actress! So, seeing as all the facts I knew had cleverly wiped themselves from my brain, and 2012 was the 100 year anniversary of the tragedy, it felt right that on a trip to Dublin at the end of last year I booked some train tickets to head up to Belfast to see the recently opened exhibition.

Of course it’s not like normal exhibitions, full of artefacts and actual tangible items for you to oooh and aaah over, or as is the case with exhibitions of tragic moments in history, observe in respectful silence and with tears in your eyes. It’s the artefacts that usually pull me in and help me identify with the story the exhibition is trying to tell, so I was a bit worried that it’d leave me a bit cold with no actual stuff (that’s not meant to sound crass, apologies if it did), and that I’d find it hard to empathise with the story. 

I needn’t have worried. Titanic’s much-publicised beginnings are told with pictures, videos, on-board simulations, stories read by actors and real life accounts from survivors told in their own words and voices. The set up is clever, taking you through the history of the community that built her, an actual journey into the “shipyard”, through a very clever launch simulation looking over the actual dock where she first hit water, and then “inside” as they fitted her out. Really, we are seeing the raucous, noisy and glorious birth of probably the most famous ship in history.

Then the mood changes, and the moment she is hit is detailed with displays, narrations and visual effects that left me shivering inside. I sat in the room that told this part of the story in a reflective silence for a long time, listening to the actual voices of survivors, reading the distress message transcripts, and staring at the Morse code symbols over and over.

The inquests that followed the tragedy, and the changes in maritime law that were implemented as a consequence, were then examined. After that you reach a beautiful display of the countless books, films and pieces of music written in tribute to the ship, her crew, her survivors and the poor lost souls, and the years of media coverage and interest her wreckage has generated. I spent quite a lot of time here just looking and listening and feeling.

But then there’s the best bit, a theatre playing footage and voice-over commentary from the submarine that found Titanic at the bottom of the ocean. It’s enchanting, mesmerising, chilling and upsetting all at the same time. Anyone who has seen the James Cameron film will also recognise snippets of the recording. At the end of the film you can then explore the ocean floor for objects using touch screens to access different visual locations from the various mini-submarines and even stand on a (fake) glass floor to look through to the “sea bed” beneath your feet. Even though you know it’s all a simulation, it’s startlingly real and even made me feel a bit queasy!

At the very end I was also excited to find the actual costumes worn by Kate and Leo in the James Cameron film along with a few others, and some props, which explains why they weren’t at the V&A Hollywood Costume Exhibition, where I had expected to see them!

It really was very cleverly done and, considering there’s nothing but photos, film and interviews that they can show, it really captured my heart and drew me right in. My highlights would include the virtual deck tour, re-creations of the cabins, the deep water exploration theatre and the interactive “artefact locator” with the “glass” floor. It’s most definitely worth a visit if you’re in the City.

We booked tickets online and took a cab from Belfast Central station which takes no more than ten minutes.

Walking with Dinosaurs (seen at the O2 but now on tour, back in the UK in the spring)

I mentioned before that my bro is the biggest history geek that I know, but when it comes to dinosaurs, I know of a contender for his crown – my friend’s six year old son! So I took all my dino nerd friends and family, old and young, back to a prehistoric age to see the Walking with Dinosaurs live show at the O2.

It was awesome.

I was surprised to be so excited by the prospect of seeing dinosaur puppets (not a spoiler!) going about their pre-historic business, set to music and narrated by a fake paleontologist, but I really, really was.

The show takes you through the Triassic, Jurassic and Cretaceous Periods and features the “celebrities” of each era… culminating in the Big One. My bro being a complete dino nerd as a child must have rubbed off on me because I found myself actually getting excited as the dinosaurs entered the arena with yelps of “ooooh, Brachiosaurus“, “I bet this is Stegosaurus“, “woooooo, T-Rex!”

Thankfully my squeals were drowned out by those of the kids in the box with us!

The journey is illustrated beautifully with the use of the ever changing landscape (so cleverly done) and is accompanied by a moving music score (I didn’t, but I did almost cry at one point). The narrator, playing the part of a palaeontologist called Huxley (who was pretty handsome, as far as I can tell from the close ups!), provided enthusiastic commentary about the flora and fauna of the different ages, evolution, the changing land mass and the dinosaurs themselves in terms that were understandable to young kids, but not boring for the big kids.

The puppets were brilliant and the smaller ones were mesmerising in the same way as those in Warhorse - You know they aren’t real, clearly being able to see the human operatives, but you can’t help but be sucked in by their life-like mannerisms and movements (as life-like as we know long-extinct gigantic reptiles to be). Really very clever.

It’s not highly scientific, more like a prehistoric soap opera at times, and I have no idea on the accuracy, though my dino-expert-New-Scientist-subscriber companions didn’t correct it too much, so I’m assuming it was relatively correct. I found it all rather interesting and engaging but I didn’t learn anything new, but maybe I’m a dino nerd too? Well, I have watched The Land Before Time at least 100 times and the Jurassic Park films about 50, so I must have learned something (Long-Necks don’t play with Three-Horns)?

The ending is all rather cute and funny too with a particular character stealing the show.

It’s going on tour, so check here for dates and tickets.

So what are you doing this month that you have never done before?
Victoria
x

PS! Find Victoria over on her blog Sugar Plum Slipper or on twitter @VictoriaHale.

Girl about Town: Harry Potter Studio tour

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**WARNING**

Fans of Harry Potter: this post may make you hyperventilate. Stay calm. Remember to breathe.

Not a fan of Harry Potter? See you tomorrow, when normal, grown up service resumes. Apologies in advance.

Harry Potter Fans Anonymous – I’m Victoria and I’m a Harry Potter fan. It’s been a big part of my life for ten years now, so it was only a matter of time until I dragged the whole family off to Leavesden to visit the Warner Brothers Harry Potter Studio Tour to satisfy my on-going addiction.

We arrived about an hour earlier than our time slot at what felt like a retail park, were directed to a parking bay and, in our hurry to get inside, declined the offer of a local pub recommendation from the very welcoming car park attendants for some lunch, opting instead for the on-site café. We braced ourselves for some hideous food but actually it wasn’t too bad… except for the (expectedly) hideous prices. Anyway, enough about the car park and the café, on to the tour.

We queued, as directed, 20 minutes before our designated tour time, were welcomed in a cinema-style introduction by Daniel, Emma and Rupert (yup, first name terms!) and then walked through the grand Hogwarts doors (squeeeal) and found ourselves in the Great Hall (bigger squeeeeal)… and the magic started.

We had a mini presentation from one of the guides with some information about the two parts and then, upon leaving the Great Hall, the rest of the tour is self-guided. For those with questions or in want of more detail (and yes, I realise the “detail” is very much a figment of their own, amazingly dedicated, imaginations) there are staff placed strategically around the studios to provide background and even mini “tutorials” on the artefacts, sets and costumes.

The tour promises that secrets will be revealed and they certainly are. Normally, I’d hate to see how the magic is created, as it could ruin the enchantment of the films, but in this instance it added to it.

Seeing the actual Great Hall was pretty breathtaking, seeing the (surprisingly small) costumes worn by the actors was fascinating, standing face-to-face with actors dressed as Death Eaters was great fun (except for my mum who jumped out of her skin), and being (almost) in the sets and being able to touch some of the props gave me goosebumps.

I’ll admit it – I transformed in to an ultra-mega-super-Harry-Potter-geek-a-saurus. Think the entire cast of The Big Bang Theory all mashed up in to one giant Star Trek enthusiast, attending a Star Trek convention and having lunch with William Shatner. Yip. That was me.

My exceptionally nerdy brother actually commented, as I did a little squeal on discovering a particular item, that it was nice to “not be the nerd for once”, stating that, in this environment, he felt almost “cool”. Whatever.

This is a Mecca for Harry Potter geeks looking to prolong the love.

Highlights for me, after much deliberation over dinner and in the car on the way home, were as follows:

  • Standing in the Great Hall. The ACTUAL Great Hall. OMG! I almost cried.
  • Walking along Diagon Alley and poring over the intricate window displays. So real. So atmospheric. I know the names of the shops along this fictional street almost as well as the stores along Oxford Street.
  • A rather detailed lecture about a number of key characters’ wands, including the individual aesthetics and qualities of each. Very interesting with some very well-thought out arguments even if it was all completely made up and not necessarily endorsed by JKR!
  • Sampling Butterbeer, which wasn’t as gross as I imagined it to be
  • Looking for the cast names in the Wand Room
  • And finally, spending the best part of an hour walking around and around and around the scale model of Hogwarts. It made my heart pound.

My least favourite bit? The gift shop. it made my senses ache and my wallet cry. I wanted to buy everything. Sadly I’m not a billionaire, or an eight year old, so I had to restrain myself. In the end I bought some tongue-in-cheek books JKR wrote for Comic Relief, Quidditch through the Ages and Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, to add to my HP book shelf, alongside The Tales of Beedle the Bard and the original seven books.

After the tour we made our way over to The Grove Hotel, about a five minute drive away, for some cocktails, in-depth Harry Potter related discussions and dinner. This hotel in itself provides a great day out with amazing gardens (square trees, hidden fountains and giant glowing plant pots) and a number of restaurants and bars. Apparently the cast stayed here during filming. *Commence fan-girl squealing now*

I’m now planning to watch the box set back-to-back and annoy everyone with lots of pausing and shrieks of “I’ve seen that” whilst pointing at the screen.

Overall, a GREAT day out for HP fans old and young. Who wants to come with me when I go back? I’ll sort out our costumes, let me know your sizes…

Love,
Victoria.

The Details: the studios can be reached by train or road and details can be found at the WB website. Tickets get booked up well in advance so plan ahead. Also be aware that you have to book for a specific time slot and have to arrive well in advance in case of queues. All information can be found on the website here.

PS! Find Victoria over on her blog Sugar Plum Slipper or on twitter @VictoriaHale.

Girl About Town gets out of town: Seville

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After a crazy summer of house buying and flat selling, homelessness, living in my in my parents’ study, moving house, about 25 weddings (actually only seven), decorating and renovating our new home, London2012 hysteria and seeing my husband once every three weeks (due to London2012 shifts) we decided to treat ourselves to a relaxing, end-of-summer week somewhere nice and hot, not too pricey but luxurious enough to feel a bit self-indulgent. I didn’t want a city break – too much sightseeing required and sitting by a pool all day in the middle of a city, ready to be explored, just seemed wrong.

So, a cheap, nice, early-October beach break? Pretty simple, you’d think?

Wrong.

Everywhere close (a.k.a. cheap) enough couldn’t guarantee the sunshine that we were craving. Everywhere that could guarantee the sunshine, required a 14 hour flight and three times our budget just to get there. The only option that ticked all boxes, or so we thought, was Cyprus. Short flight, we could use budget airlines, good weather predicted, lovely hotels! Inexplicably, this option was more expensive than the Caribbean, Dubai and South East Asia all put together. And the flight times were bonkers.

Hmmm.

As the deadline drew nearer our list of options got shorter. And then we got burgled.

Aside from the feelings of anger, shock, violation, fear and sadness, I was LIVID that after all this time of waiting for our romantic beach break, we were now forking out hundreds of pounds for new doors, our excess insurance fee and a new alarm system, and so we were now unlikely to be going anywhere.

But, after all that extra stress on top of the list above, we refused to let it break us. We hadn’t spent more than a few hours in each other’s company for months and we needed to Chill. Out. So we started looking at cheap city breaks and discovered Seville: Scorching sunshine; a beautiful setting; great reviews from recent visitors; cheap flights from an airport less than 30 minutes away and at realistic times; and a Mr and Mrs Smith Hotel with short-notice availability at a reasonable price – PERFECT!

I did a bit of research in to the location and was pleased to find that although there was a lot of wandering to be done there were only a few major sights. I feel guilty chilling out reading my book by a pool when there is culture I’m missing out on. So there was enough to entertain us, but no so much that our chill time was compromised.

We arrived at the Hospes las Casas del Rey de Baeza about midday after a short 20 minute cab ride from the airport and, as our room wasn’t yet ready, we were given a welcome drink (ice cold sangria for him, juice for me) and a small tour of the hotel before settling in one of the central patios to read up on the location.

The hotel was rustic in style with rooms on three levels on open balconies/corridors around two central patios. On the ground floor, we found a cool, calm library and lounge complete with big scoochy (it counts as a word if you know what I mean – and I know you do!) leather sofas, and a garden room with wicker chairs over-looking a small garden area with a mesmerising water feature and lush green plants. I found myself sitting here day dreaming for about two hours on the last day.

Eventually we unpacked in our rather spacious room (not a great view, so let’s not dwell) and we decided to leave exploring until after sundown and to make the most of that big firey ball of warmth in the sky that we seemed to be missing in the UK over the summer months, and headed up to the roof terrace to read, snooze and unwind. The roof terrace was rather chic, and I felt like I was back in Santorini – everything was sleek, modern and white. Decking, sofas, funky lamps, potted cacti, sun loungers and a small, but perfect, pool all in amongst the Andalusian rooftops.

An un-manned bar in the corner was home to a stack of menus and a phone with a direct dial to the kitchen. We ordered some delicious-sounding salads and drinks and settled in for a warm, relaxing afternoon with a handful of fresh Seville oranges, plucked from the innumerable baskets, vases and bowls full to the brim of the sunshine fruit, found all over the hotel and grounds.

Later that evening we went out to explore, taking advice from the guys on reception for the best places for tapas, drinks and general hanging out. In the end, we got so lost wandering the cute, cobbly, windy, atmospheric streets that that I can’t even begin to tell you where we ate each night. My only advice would be TAKE A MAP and wear flat shoes! I’m normally map-averse for various reasons 1) I don’t like to draw attention to myself as a tourist. I know I don’t look like a local with my milky white skin, but I don’t want to look completely clueless and vulnerable, 2) part of the fun of a city, for me, is finding my way by chance, using landmarks to navigate, soaking up the atmosphere and people watching on my way and 3) if you’re looking at a map, you’re not looking at your surroundings, which is what exploring is all about.

Seville is not for the map-averse. After two laps of the same circuit, crossing the same square in the same direction twice, I caved and consulted the map. And that’s when I looked around and realised that every second person, regardless of nationality, was standing there with their own map looking perplexed, squinting at the tiny print and then the crumbling street signs and trying to find their way. It actually added an element of camaraderie to the trip.

Eventually we found somewhere to eat – the food was average and the service was worse, but the sangria was good, and the setting was beautiful, so who cares about soggy patatas bravas and oily chorizo!

The second day we skipped the hotel breakfast (which, although delicious and lovely, worked out about €50 each) grabbed some pastries and smoothies from a bakery not far from the hotel, ate our fill on a bench with some locals in a small square and then did some conventional sight-seeing, buying tickets for the Real Alcazar and staring in awe at the Moorish architecture of this ancient palace, sauntering down to the river and checking out the Bull Ring (but making sure to give them no money, instead a few pointed looks!) and a spot of much, MUCH better, tapas for lunch in the shadow of the huge Cathedral.

The third day we gave over to a mammoth lie in and more roof top pool lounging and delicious food snacking, and in the evening took a slightly different route in to the commercial shopping area to find the Metropol Parasol, peruse Zara and Mango (Sorry Mr G) and find a cocktail bar. We failed on the latter.


No matter where we looked, nowhere had any kind of drinks list: the options were sangria, vino tinto, vino blanco or refrescos. Even outlets that billed themselves as “Cocktail Bars” looked at me like I was crazy when I asked to see the cocktail list. I almost gave up hope until our last evening when we stumbled across a beautiful rooftop terrace bar overlooking the lit-up cathedral that, despite not having a menu either, offered me a few cocktail options from which to choose. At last! It was a shame that we found this bar on the last evening! For reference this restaurant also looked pretty great and had we been there an extra day we would definitely have gone back to eat there.

Overall I’d say that Seville is a stunning place to visit, great for relaxing, wandering, snacking and, most of all, relaxing. I expect I’ll head back in the not too distant future to use it as a base from which to visit Granada and the Alhambra as, from what I’ve heard Seville is a much lovelier place than Granada, if you’re willing to take the train or coach trip (a few hours, and not too pricey) between the two cities.

In short, my Seville suggestions…

1) Don’t bother packing heels. You won’t even take them out of your case.
2) Don’t expect haute cuisine, but equally, no meal cost us more than €30 (at most) for about eight tapas dishes, local wine and/or sangria and bread and olives. Local, tasty and affordable. What’s not to like?
3) Don’t expect great service – as a former waitress I ALWAYS tip generously, but in one place we left without leaving a tip at all to make a point about the so-bad-I-was-looking-for-hidden-cameras service!
4) Don’t make any hard and fast plans – you’ll get lost, find yourself stuck down dead ends, will wait ages for a drink/meal and so will likely miss any deadlines you set yourself. It’s best to embrace the Spanish way and take it easy.
5) Do make sure to explore and soak up the city’s vibe at all times of the day. Europe does it so much better than us – less focus on work and more focus on life in the work-life balance. Even the daily “commute” is a sociable experience with bars, cafes, street vendors and holes in the wall coming alive at a time when most Brits are in “heads-down-ignore-everyone” mode. Maybe it’s the sunshine that makes everyone happier?

6) Do follow the locals to their buzzy drinking spots – impromptu street drinking, music and dancing made for a great carnival atmosphere every night of the week!
7) Do partake in a spot of shopping in amongst the sight-seeing. Sorry boys!
8) Do salivate over the Flamenco-style wedding dresses on display in every second window. I’ve literally never seen so many wedding dress shops in one city. It’s a man’s nightmare. If he’s already engaged he’ll be asked endless questions about “do you like this, do you like that?”. If he’s not, he had better hurry up and put a ring on it! If he’s married, he’ll have to deflect questions about vow-renewal! (maybe this point is just me!)

So, Findettes, have any of you been to Seville? Are you planning to visit? Any top tips to add to my list?

I also have a favour to ask – I’m going to Dublin and Belfast in a few weeks to visit my cousin with my mum and my aunt. She’s a poor starving student (yeah right!) and has the pubs and bars side of things covered, so I’m looking to you ladies for some suggestions on upmarket, chic cocktail bars and restaurants one normally reserves for special occasions as I think, for her, this one is on her mum (shhhhh!)….

Until next month

Victoria

x

PS! Find Victoria over on her blog Sugar Plum Slipper or on twitter @VictoriaHale.

Girl about Town: Drink, Dine, Do

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This afternoon, Victoria is back and my goodness, she has had a busy month! Sit back and get ready to be very jealous whilst frantically checking your diary to see if you can get in on some Girl about Town action!

This month was full of exciting high points, and I say high in the literal sense of the word – climbing the O2, eating dinner 40 floors above street level at Duck and Waffle, gazing out over Knightsbridge from the Fifth Floor Bar and Restaurant at Harvey Nichols and Trafalgar Square from the roof of Vista Bar, watching Lady Gaga from up in the gods at Twickenham Stadium, the emotional high of seeing Team GB and Paralympics GB parade the streets of London to celebrate our Olympic and Paralympic successes.

I’m going to tell you about three of those things this month, because Florence Finds is here to help and wants you to enjoy your time in our great capital!

Drink: Quirky Cocktail masterclass at Harvey Nichols Fifth Floor Bar and Restaurant

Myself and a friend booked a cocktail masterclass at Harvey Nichols as a present for one of our besties and, selfishly, it turned out to be one of the best birthday outings we’ve ever planned for someone else. It was an early start for a Sunday – a meeting time of 9.30am, but it was worth it. We were met on the street outside Harvey Nichols by Stani, our masterclass tutor, and chief mixologist for the day (I promised him a shout out!). Seeing as the store itself doesn’t open until later on a Sunday we were ushered through the staff entrance and then up to the empty Fifth Floor Bar and Restaurant. While we waited for the other members of the class to arrive we felt very behind-the-scenes or at-school-on-a-Saturday, and so we did what any self-respecting Florence Finder would do…. and posed like nerds all over the empty chaise longes and sofas. Until, that is, we were caught out by the waiter who came by to take our hot drinks order. Over coffee and miniature pastries Stani gave us an introduction to himself, the bar, the order of the day and a few advance apologies for any risqué jokes he might tell. The three of us were giggling like school girls within minutes. The rest of the participants (young couples on special dates) maintained a dignified (but slightly boring) silence until much later in the proceedings – I’m assuming that had something to do with the cocktail testing!

After the introduction we moved over to the bar area (diamante studs, white leather and pink neon lights – sounds hideous, looks amazing), met Chris, another mixologist, were issued with name plates, note paper, recipe lists and pens and the session got underway. To start with Stani talked us through some cocktail making essentials, namely picking high-quality spirits, working with the best tools, selecting superior fruit juices and mixers and understanding the right methods for preparing the drink. A few demonstrations of equipment usage, a sniff of this, that and the other from some colourful bottles, a quick taste test or four and then we were in to our first of the Quirky Cocktails on the list: the Pink Chelsea. I won’t spill the story as to how and why this got its name, but it’s very probably my new favourite cocktail.

Before we had a chance to finish it the second cocktail demonstration was well underway. The Rocker Margarita was an intriguing take on the classic margarita flavours with the addition of rocket leaves. Sounds weird, tastes YUM!

The third item on our cocktail menu was another interesting one, entitled the Limousine. If the Pink Chelsea was a refreshing appetizer, and the rocker margarita was a sweet but savoury salad-y drink, this was definitely pudding! A creamy cocktail with a palate-cleansing shot of bubbly on the side was a great way to end.

After the three demonstrations we then had the opportunity to get behind the bar one or two at a time and make like Tom Cruise. After a quick safety briefing (i.e. don’t shake like a nutter and knock over our VERY expensive bottles of the hard stuff!) and a few hilarious stories about some minor behind-the-bar disasters, Stani and Chris asked us individually about our favourite drinks, what kind of things we had in our cupboards and what kinds of flavours we liked and then we went on to make a variety of different cocktails. Some of us went for classics, some made bespoke drinks and some of us were inspired by the bar’s own cocktail menu.

A short de-brief and a quick re-group where we swapped recipes and sampled each others’ masterpieces and we were ushered through to the restaurant for a quick, light lunch. It was a two course set menu which started with a seriously tasty tomato soup, and was followed by a creamy chicken and sweetcorn risotto. Which was perfect for sobering us up slightly! Stani presented us with our personalised certificates once we were finished at which point the course came to a close.

Obviously we took ourselves back to the bar to sample a few more delights from the cocktail list and then by about 3.00pm we were ready to leave for some serious sofa surfing. At about 10pm that night my hangover kicked in. Ouchie!

Click here for more details and to book. I recommend that you do, it’s a great day out, especially for a group. Don’t be scared of taking the boys along as well. They seemed to love it even more than us ladies!

Dine: Duck and Waffle at The Heron Tower

Duck and Waffle is situated on level 40 of the Heron Tower on Bishopsgate, above the London Branch of Sushi Samba. I visited the latter for work reasons and insisted that Mr G take me back for a special dinner at some point. The problem? He doesn’t eat fish. Hmm. Sushi becomes slightly less fun if you can’t eat it. I researched the venue a little bit more and then discovered Duck and Waffle’s menu was much more appealing for a non-fish eater, and so we set the date for our 3rd wedding anniversary, last week.

On arrival we had to ring a door bell at the big glass entrance at floor level at which point a burly, surly doorman came out and asked questions as if we were under CIA interrogation before even allowing us past the rope, let alone through the door. We gritted our teeth and stuck with it as I knew that the meet-and-greet and serving staff in the actual venue are much more polite, welcoming and humble, and the views and setting were worth it. After little bit of queuing (despite having made reservations and confirmed them, twice), being asked to “stand over there” (apparently a VIP queue or something) and being jostled slightly by other perturbed street-queuers, we were in and waiting for the lift. From this point onwards our experience got much better. In hindsight I understand that in the building with such controlled and limited access there needs to be a strict entry system, but I do feel that there are nicer ways to go about implementing and enforcing it.

The high-speed, glass, exterior lift is not for the faint hearted but you get some great views of the City on the way up so do try to open your eyes, even for just a few seconds. On arrival at level forty we were met by the welcome staff, seated in the “open” bar and talked through the “concept”. Rather than a traditional bar area (i.e. a counter, mixologists standing behind it, servers taking orders or you standing at the bar to order a drink) the bar is more of a central work station around which the bar tenders stand to mix up your concoctions to order. There is a short but sweet cocktail menu available, but the idea is that you are able to interact with the bar tenders so they can make your drink to your specifications. Essentially you are involved in and close to the process. Well, this is how I see it anyway. I asked for a “Cosmopolitan (obviously) with an update”. It came back with a, and I quote “smooth peach undertone and a dry, apple aftertaste”. Basically, it was gooooood.

On being seated at a table (less than 20 cm from one of the floor to ceiling windows – again not for the faint hearted) we were talked through the concept of the menu. Everything is intended to be shared and eaten all together, a bit like tapas. So we got stuck in and ordered our little hearts out! We started with mini battered sausages with mustard and pea and mint arancini, followed by duck rillette with sourdough bread, beer chutney and pistachios and the foie gras “all day breakfast”. Next up were the lamb cutlets accompanied by smoked aubergine and the dish from which the restaurant obviously takes its name, the Duck and Waffle (crispy leg confit, fried duck egg, mustard maple syrup on a big fluffy waffle).

With all that on the table our attention was diverted away the views out over the east London and back towards the sun setting over the west end and toward the task at hand – consuming all that rich food. Thankfully, although there was a lot on the table, the actual portions aren’t massive which means that you can order more than you would normally, so you can try as many dishes as possible, but you don’t feel like you’ve over indulged – well not too much! We finished off with a shared dessert – gooey, appley, mapley, ice creamy, yumminess in a pan, (– a possible rival to the tipsy pudding at Dinner) and a glass of home-grown Sussex bubbly.

Considering how much we ordered and the unusual setting I was surprised at the bill. I thought it would have been much more. To clarify, it’s not a cheap and cheerful dining option, but all factors considered I felt that it was more than reasonable. So, seeing as they now have 24 hour dining in place, and it’s not too outlandishly priced – this perhaps isn’t just a restaurant for special occasions as I once thought, but also somewhere to hole up in the cold winter months when you miss your last train and you need some food and alcohol to see you through until morning. Or maybe that’s just me…

Overall, if you can get past the rude door staff and the uncivilised queuing system, it’s worth it for some great views, some unusual food and some great cocktails on the highest roof terrace in Europe.

Click here for the website and to book, and here for their Facebook page which contains some cool photos. My only warning: beware of the Sushi Samba bar area clientele on traditional city drinking nights (Wednesday, Thursday, Friday) – city suits and wannabe TOWIE cast made it rather unpleasant on my first visit. Thankfully these types tended to steer clear of the dining areas and stuck to the bars, and are non-existent on weekends!

Do: Up at the O2

A few weeks ago I thought it would be clever to book tickets for Up at the O2. It didn’t occur to me that being scared of heights it might be a bad idea. Or that I’m physical activity-averse and it might require some hefty physical input. Nope. I ploughed straight in, roped in a friend and booked us up for the 8pm slot. People asked us why. We said “why not?”. It wasn’t until the day before when we got a reminder email that we also asked ourselves “uh, why are we doing this?”

It turned out we needn’t have worried! We turned up at Base Camp at the required 15 minutes before departure and were issued with clipboards, pens, “if you fall off you can’t sue us” forms to sign and the obligatory information about filming and photography so as to flog it to you at the end. Our guide came in introduced himself, talked us through the forms and the whereabouts of the loos, cracked a few jokes about being scared of heights and falling off and then hit play on their safety instruction video which was a tongue-in-cheek take on a video diary from an arctic explorer at Everest Base Camp. This made me feel much, much better. If they weren’t taking it too seriously then I shouldn’t be too worried about the heights and safety.

After the safety video we were furnished with jumpsuits (with inbuilt camera and phone pockets), harnesses, carabiners and a locker for our belongings. Everyone swiftly put it all on… and then swiftly took it all back off again when the instructor told us to start again and showed everyone individually how to don the harness properly. Ah, so they WERE paying attention to safety after all!

We then lined up and had a quick demonstration about how to lock on and off of the safety wire with our harness, how to move the clip correctly and then we were off!

The start is incredibly steep and requires a bit of effort and maneuvering to get up it, but then it levels off slightly and is actually quite fun. Even for me! We took it slowly as there was a big group and we had to travel at the same pace so there was a lot of time to take in the view and the surroundings.

The walkway itself is bouncy and deliberately so, to replicate how the material of the O2 canopy might feel. Clever! We got told off for bouncing on it. Not clever! On reaching the “summit” or the viewing platform, we were disconnected from the safety wire and free to wander. At this point I noticed that everyone else was in a couple or on a date. Who’d have thought the top of the O2 was a place for romance? I suppose the lovely views over part of the city and across the river to Canary Wharf in all its luminescent glory (including the nightly light show on the Pan Peninsula buildings) is a great setting for a romantic stroll! We could also see the Orbit structure over in the Olympic park glowing red and firey in the distance. I’d like to head back during daylight or at sunset to catch a different perspective of the city.

After a little while at the top, and a few photos (I forgot my camera so my iPhone pics are all I have unfortunately, please excuse the quality,) and we were locked back on to the wire and ready to begin our steep descent. On reaching the end our lockers had magically arrived to greet us, so we disrobed, handed back our equipment, visited the gift shop to check out our videos (I looked ridiculous, and so didn’t purchase), said our goodbyes to our guide Gary (another promised shout out) and we were on our way home to bed!

From start to finish I think the whole experience took less than two hours, was really well organised and was very reasonably priced. For more information and to book please click here. If you’re looking for something fun, different or apparently romantic, to do this autumn I would definitely recommend it.

To finish, I thought I’d pass on a little bit of the O2 facts that I learned during my climb. As the structure was originally created for the millennium it appears to be a tribute to time itself: there are twelve posts that hold the canopy aloft to replicate the twelve numbers on a clock, the circumference is exactly 365 meters to represent the days of the year and the highest point of the dome is 52 meters to represent the weeks of the year. Cool huh? And we all thought it was just a big tent!

Until next time (geddit?)…

Vx

PS! Find Victoria over on her blog Sugar Plum Slipper or on twitter @VictoriaHale.

Girl about Town: The Sanctuary Spa

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Yay! Victoria is back! We’ve got a suitably glamourous spa review for you this month and I’d love to hear your thoughts if you’ve been or would like to go. That swing isn’t going to entertain itself you know…

In light of Rebecca’s round up of Thermae Spa in Bath, we thought a little review of another famous spa might be interesting, and seeing as the entry restrictions are very gender specific there were none of the, erm, inappropriate spatial awareness issues you guys mentioned, although when I visited Thermae Spa, I could have sworn that I didn’t see a single male. Strange!

In my Christmas stocking last year I found a voucher for a spa day at The Sanctuary, which promptly got packed away in the present-opening melee with all my other Christmas vouchers to be “saved for later”. An indulgent, relaxing treat after all the stress of Christmas, a run of 30th birthday parties, a busy season at work and buying and selling property that I swiftly forgot I had. It was only on packing up our flat half way through March and whinging to anyone that would listen that I needed a chill out did I remember that I had the voucher! I gave the hotline a call and the lady on the other end was possibly one of the most friendly and helpful spa receptionists I’ve ever spoken to. She asked where I was travelling from so she could work out an approximate arrival time so she could structure my day appropriately, without having to make me get up too early or have to rush through my time there. How very considerate!

To that end, I arrived at The Sanctuary Covent Garden Spa at 11am in time for a small introduction at the official-looking check in desk (“Hi and welcome to The Sanctuary, is it your first time here? Can I get you some juice”), a locker tutorial (pretty hi-tech), a few moments to strip (but I chose to keep my bikini on) and snuggle up in my fluffy robe and then little bit of wandering to familiarise myself with the various floors before my first treatment appointment – A full body aromatherapy massage.

I had a little consultation with the therapist who asked various questions about pressure preference, any issues or body concerns (“yes, I’m concerned my body doesn’t look like Rose Huntington-Whiteley’s – can you help?”) and what I was hoping to get out of the massage so we could pick the right oils and focus – loosening of the muscles, de-stress time, re-invigoration or just a snooze? I picked the “de-stress” oils as my body was feeling incredibly tight, and a strong pressure to really ease the knots out of my shoulders. 55 minutes later I was feeling considerably more supple and heavily chastised for scrunching at my desk, not exercising my back muscles enough.

A drink of water and I was back wandering the corridors and floors again and I found myself at the exercise pool. Feeling a bit too “floopy”, to quote Phoebe Buffay, for anything as strenuous as swimming I grabbed a towel and stretched out in the sauna for a bit of heat therapy.

After that I took another wander and settled myself in the Koi Carp Lounge which was full of big scoochie chairs (that’s totally a word), day beds and ginormous wicker arm chairs. I squidged myself in to a chair, ordered a platter of picky bits (feta, olives, hummus, pate, bean dip and pitta) a cocktail that I think was called a Cosmopolitini (pink prosecco with a scoop of cranberry and vodka sorbet), grabbed my book (one of the Song of Ice and Fire series) and snuggled in for an hour of chill time with some yummy food and drink! The area is divided up in to various sections and the clientele was equally split between large groups of assorted ages on hen dos, smaller groups of two or three women on special days out and those on their own, like me, there for a true chill out. Obviously in such a large space with so many females the noise levels could have become a bit rowdy, especially with the introduction of alcohol, but the staff do a good job of maintaining a chilled out vibe, whilst still allowing the larger groups to let their hair down and have fun with their friends. Well, that was how it worked out for me, you guys may have had different experiences? It certainly felt more relaxing and indulgent than the public areas of Thermae Spa, which in my opinion, had the potential to feel a bit public swimming pool at times.

After all that exertion I was ready for my session in the Sleep Retreat which involved, shock horror, more chill time! A curved bed vibrates in waves and sound-proofed headphones played calming, imaginative narrative (“you’re standing in a beautiful garden, in front of a trickling fountain”) intended to send you off in to a restful sleep. It worked for most people in the room, as the soft snores can attest, but unfortunately when someone tells me to “clear my mind of all my thoughts” I start thinking about “what should I be clearing?” which leads me to making lists on my mental whiteboard, rather than wiping it clean. And I giggle. Which is why I quit yoga! It was nice and relaxing though, even if I didn’t sleep. A quick note, remember to get comfortable before the experience begins, not halfway through like me. I forgot that I was wearing my slightly damp bikini bottoms under my robe and it wasn’t very comfy so just as everyone was dropping off to sleep with headphones on and eyes firmly closed, there was me trying to wriggle out of my cossie, under the blanket and my robe without making a scene. I’d have loved to have been a fly on the wall, or the security camera monitor, for that little fiasco!

After that, I grabbed a pot of Earl Grey, some magazines (in fancy Sanctuary plastic covers), a blanket and did some advanced-level chillaxing back in the Koi Carp Lounge.

By then I was feeling well and truly rested, so I thought I should do something, erm, productive with my day and almost booked a facial, but I decided I needed a new pair of Converse for my holiday more than I needed a facial scrub, and also all the facial products are available in the dressing rooms, so instead I did a bit of swimming, loitered in the jacuzzi and sweated out all the week’s toxins (which included lots of cachaca after a Rio Carnival reunion) in the steam room before a leisurely shower (with more Sanctuary products), a little bit of pampering with all the skincare products* and I was back at the front desk collecting my free gift and checking out for the day. A quick stop in the ground floor shop for some samples and then a wander back to the Tube, via a sweetshop and a newsagent for magazines and I was set for an evening of sofa surfing.

All in all I had a really lovely day and truly appreciated the chance to enjoy some alone time and to just sit and veg in a cosy robe with a book, some snacks and a drink or two. However, my personal feeling is that the prices are rather high and so if I go back, it will only be if I’m lucky enough to receive another experience as a gift. Otherwise I’ll just stick to massages, facials and nail treatments at my local salon, pootle back home and sit on my couch in my Champneys robe (pilfered from my mum a few years back) with a cuppa (or a glass of, depending on the time!) and there must be an app for Koi carp swimming around in a soothing manner on your iPhone…

And, before you ask, I didn’t use The Swing, I had the urge, but I would have felt like a bit of a berk just swinging on it on my own.

Have you been? What did you think? Are you planning a trip there?

Victoria
x

*I used the samples and the products in my free gift box for about a week afterwards but I had to give up on them as they made my skin freak out. After a few years of skin freak outs, I knew enough to stop asap so I’m glad I didn’t try the facial after all. However, I’ve spoken to a few people who really liked them, and I know Rebecca has reviewed the Miracle Oil on Florence Finds in the past, so don’t let my crazy skin put you off!

PS! Find Victoria over on her blog Sugar Plum Slipper or on twitter @VictoriaHale.

Girl about town: London 2012 – Olympic Tennis

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This afternoon I am delighted to introduce a new regular columnist to Florence Finds – Victoria. Already a guest poster here, (remember Victoria’s review of Heston’s restaurant ‘Dinner’, Istanbul destination guide and The Soho Hotel afternoon tea?) Victoria simply has the most jam packed schedule I’ve ever seen and seems to be in all the most exciting places. I think of her as the ultimate ‘girl about town’, less about turning up to the opening of an envelope, more seeking out the best recommendations for you in our fair capital and right on the money when it comes to the hottest, latest and most interesting places to see and be seen.

Victoria’s usual post will come at the end of every month, but we have a bonus post today as Victoria reports back from the Olympics! I know so many people have been and loved it so do give her a big welcome and share your stories in the comments box too.

Welcome to the Florence Finds team Victoria!

As a general rule, with Wimbledon and the odd ice dancing championships being the exception, I’m sport averse. I hate the way people who have known each other for years fight each other because of football scores. I hate the way in summer all TV channels assume I care so much about men with bats wearing white cable knit jumpers they cancel all other programmes. I hate the way sexism is seen as a bit of a joke to an entire industry and fan base. Most of all I hate the way, as teenager I was forced to stand in a line in a muddy field in the pouring rain in a pair of oversized pants (before they were fashionable), hockey socks and a polo shirt, whilst a woman walked along the line and threw a football at our faces (we were learning “headers” and I insisted that if it came within a foot of my face I was going to have her for assault. I wrote lines all evening, but at least I didn’t have to re-touch my coffee shimmer – several references there will be lost on you if you’re not a graduate of the 90s comp school system!). I’ll stop ranting before I make some sports fan enemies (and please note, this is all in jest… kind of) and also add a small caveat – I really know nothing about sport, so don’t judge me too harshly!

So, shall I tell you what I do like? I love camaraderie. I love fairness and sportsmanship and cheering for the underdog. I love patriotism (not to be confused with nationalism. NEVER nationalism) and seeing people have a sense pride in their talent and ability, without arrogance. I love a big fat feeling of togetherness, support and doing something solely for the love of doing it… oh, and a symbolic disc of metal to take home to your country, a personalised stamp and a gilded post box.And thus I am, have been since Freddie Mercury sang Barcelona and always will be, utterly OBSESSED with the Olympics! I remember watching the “yay! we got it” announcement from my boss’ office window, on the giant plasma screen in the office across the road and literally whooping for joy. I have stood on my train platform every evening and gazed in wonder at the Olympic park taking shape over the last few years and I have smiled like a crazy person and made over-excited fan-girl conversation at – not with, because they back away – all the Gamesmakers who took up residence in my building every time I saw them in the lift. I was not one of those Londoners/Commuters who whinged about the delays, influx of people, lack of suitable infrastructure to cope etc etc etc. I was one of those people who said “it’ll happen, it’ll be brilliant, we’ll pull it out of the bag and the world will wonder what on earth London commuters are moaning about when they complain about TFL!”.

So far I feel that I’ve been proved right. Considering where I work and the route my commute takes me on, getting to the office has been much simpler in the mornings and on the way home the commuting rules have changed. That old London rule about no talking on public transport, whether to your travel companions (drawing terse looks) or to strangers (drawing strange/scared/shocked “who is this person and why are they making small talk with me?” looks) has been abandoned. People are chatting on the tube too – shock horror, strangers! There’s Olympic banter with people swathed in flags, official uniforms and suits, the tube drivers are telling jokes over the intercom and people are, god forbid, smiling! The only thing I can liken it to is the feeling of Rio Carnival where the whole city just joins in and goes wild for four days.

So, a few days ago it all began. My wedding? Big birthdays? Amazing holidays? My best friends’ kids being born? The Royal Wedding? The Diamond Jubilee? Nah. Nothing could compare to the excitement I felt about Friday 27th July 2012, at 12 minutes past eight (20.12) when it all finally kicked off. I won’t give you a run down on the Opening Ceremony. There are better commentators out there, but I will say I didn’t move from my sofa for five solid hours. I wept with joy, I punched the air. I whooped with pride. God it was good. If Queenie doesn’t make Danny Boyle a “Sir” by this time next year, she’s obviously completely senile and it’s time for Charlie to take over.Anyway, I digress, in terms of tickets I wasn’t able to go mad, my only Visa card is linked to my current account which doesn’t have quite as much available cash (i.e. not necessarily cash that belongs to me, just that is available to me) in it as my, ahem, credit cards so I had to be selective about which tickets I applied for in case I actually got them all and wiped myself out. As it happens I got nothing. Zilch. Nada. I was sad for a while, had a bit of a rant at the “complete unfairness” of it all and then sucked it up, got on with it and made plans to watch the events in the big public areas to soak up the atmosphere. And then, after years of sharing my Wimbledon tickets with one of my besties, Katy, she returned the favour with the best news ever – not only did she have Centre Court tickets for day three of the tennis, she was allowing me first refusal on the spare! Oh! Joy! Hurrah!

On Monday night, there I was at 10pm in Tesco dashing up and down aisles to collect the necessary components of our usual Wimbledon picnic: crusty rolls, assorted fillings, crisps, dips, crudités, olives, pop corn (cinema sweet), Jaffa Cakes, punnets of summer berries and posh apple juice. Sadly they had no pre-mixed Pimm’s left on the shelves so we went without.I chose not to go for the traditional red, white and blue outfit but dressed myself in the colours of the Olympic rings (red pac-a-mac, green jeans, black vest top, blue nails and a yellow bag) and topped it off with an Olympic Pink cardie for, you know, camouflage! I made sure to accessorise with my Union Flag heart fan and badge and Katy cleverly packed some face masks, just in case we were caught on camera (we weren’t). If you’re reporting for Florence Finds, you have to dress the part, right? Katy and I met up at Stratford so we could travel across London together with our free travel card, which were a little bit magical. Apparently they allowed us access to zones 1 through 9… huh? After eight years of commuting, these three extra zones are a mystery to me. Do you get to them via platform 9 3/4 ? I can only assume they allow use of overground trains out to the more further-afield venues. Who knows! We ignored the warnings, which seem to have scared people away, to avoid Waterloo and after a quick trip on the Jubilee Line we jumped on a train to Wimbledon which was, surprisingly, completely empty. Half an hour later, after a free ride on the shuttle bus from Wimbledon station, we were in queues for the airport style security. The tickets came with warnings about this and also some baggage restrictions, so with all the flashy colours you could be forgiven for thinking you were about to fly Easy Jet. I had to abandon my posh apple juice because of the no liquids rule, but we were able to take empty bottles in to fill up at the water stations around the grounds. They also confiscated all alcohol so it’s a good job I didn’t waste my money on the Pimm’s. Conveyor belts, watches and phones in trays, bag and body scanners and a few random searches and we were in. Knowing the grounds quite well we made our way directly to our seats, settled ourselves in with our picnic and got ready for some Olympic tennis.

First up was Venus Williams for the USA against Aleksandra Wozniak for Canada. It was a great game but it went how we expected with a reasonably quick win for Venus. Next up was a match between Team GB’s Andy Murray and Finland’s Jarkko Nieminen. It was a great game and the atmosphere was amazing with the home crowd going bonkers for Andy, but what was equally heart-warming was the way Mr Nieminen also won the British hearts and he got some equally big cheers, especially from me. Like I said, I always cheer for the underdog! Murray took the match and the Team GB supporters went wild with their Union Flags as he was interviewed court-side, but we saved some energy to give Jarrko a raucous round of applause and some cheers as he waved goodbye. After all that excitement we had another great match, Novak Djokovic for Serbia and Andy Roddick for the USA came out on to the court to wow us with some big serves, amazing rallies and breathtaking shots. In the end Djokovic won but again, some big names made for a great match and an electrifying atmosphere in the stands. But the best was yet to come – one of the most famous faces in female tennis, Russia’s Maria Sharapova, playing Team GB member Laura Robson. The crowd literally went wild, and even more so when she actually took the first game and then held her own to take them to a tie break in the first set. I can’t count how many times we were ‘quiet please’-d but there was a lot of flag waving, air punching and whooping! Sadly Laura didn’t win, but it’s ok – Maria was aiming for the “Golden Slam” (all the major tennis tour titles plus the Olympic gold), a feat only achieved by one other woman, Steffi Graff (in one year, mind!) so until her untimely exit I rooted for her to win.

After that we rounded off the day with David Ferrer for Spain and Blaz Kavcic for Slovenia and lots some more independent cheering. I liked Ferrer’s hair so I cheered for him. I told you I wasn’t massively qualified for sports reporting – don’t judge me! All in all a well organised day full of great people, great feeling, great sportsmanship and a great crowd… in Great Britain. I’m now spending every evening refreshing various screens to get my hands on some more tickets. There are loads out there to buy, just not in my price range. I did manage to get my hands on some men’s 100m final tickets for the Paralympics, so I will get my time in the Stadium that I have looked at so lovingly for all these months – I just have a few more weeks to wait.

How many of you have been? How much did you love it? What did you think? Is anyone heading to the closing ceremony?

Victoria – Girl about Town
xo

Find Victoria over on her blog Sugar Plum Slipper or on twitter @VictoriaHale. You can also read all about Victoria on our contributors page where she enters the Florence Finds hall of fame ;)