On being married for 3 years...

The Boy and I celebrated our THREE YEAR WEDDING ANNIVERSARY this week.

Three years.

That went FAST.

We celebrated by playing to our strengths as a couple; by drinking and eating.

We headed in to Leeds separately, I always think it's fun to meet the person you're living with somewhere other than at home, it feels more like a date instead of asking a question about the next electricity bill at the start of a night out.

The Scarborough Taps was the rendezvous point and after a swift half we headed to the Malmaison Hotel bar which is possibly the most expensive place for a cocktail (£9?!) in Leeds.

After a tap water at the Malmaison we headed to Rare Steakhouse, the only place I've ever dined next to a stuffed lifesize cow called Sue I think? Rather distracting when you're eating a steak, but it's too bloody delicious to care much.

Anyway, here's a few pictures of our evening...

Yeah you are!

Happy Anniversary to The Baxters!

I'm rather fond of Edinburgh... here's why in photos

These are photos from a visit in 2012, but I've all of a sudden got a craving to be back in Edinburgh... it's funny when that happens isn't it? You don't think about a place in aaaages and then BAM! you get an urge to get on a train and walk around in the blustery winds all wrapped up in a warm coat and stopping off for a wee dram somewhere.

The 5 things I always regret packing...

I'm really bad at travelling light ok? I'm really trying to get better at travelling with just hand baggage for three reasons:

1. It costs less if you just travel with hand baggage (yippee!)
2. Waiting at the baggage carousel for checked in luggage is probably where I'm most angry in life
3. I'm TRYING to convince myself that clothes and shoes are just materialistic and as long as you have your passport you will have everything you need... butttt my shoes are SO PRETTY. Whimper.

My top five items I ALWAYS seem to fall into the trap of packing and not needing at all are:

1. Too many clothes

The Barney toy, the whiskey and the cat are ESSENTIALS ok?

This one gets me EVERY time. I guess I'm gripped by panic that I NEED that skirt, that dress, those shorts AND that other dress so I won't run out of clothes. But really why do I need all these things? If I took half of the items, they could be worn in different ways with different combinations or can easily be washed and dry quickly in sunshine, so why is it necessary for me to take two outfits for each day? (true story)

2. Unnecessary toiletries

I worked in travel for five years and repeatedly told customers not to bother taking toiletries with them as there are plenty of shops and supermarkets to stock up on when they arrive... and yet... when it comes to me packing my bag, I can't help but throw in a shampoo... and conditioner (NECESSARY).. and mosquito repellent... and deodorant... and a razor... and before you know it I've clocked up a kilo on toiletries alone, and that's just the miniatures! Calm it down and hit the supermercado.

3. Too much makeup

When will I learn that there is NO POINT putting foundation on in a hot country that a) doesn't match my patchy red sunburnt skin tone and b) slides off my face with the heat anyway when I do put it on? From now on I'm only going to throw in a mascara, eyeliner and THAT IS IT. Oh, maybe an eyeshadow too. And possibly blusher. BUT THAT IS IT.

4. One pair of shoes I tell myself I will wear but never do

You know the pair, slightly glitzy, maybe a heel on them, strappy perhaps. But lo and behold, heat + lots of walking = swollen, unsexy feet that will not appreciate being shoved into a glitzy pair of wedges. I know I prefer plain ol' flip flops anyway, so this one shouldn't be a hard habit to kick. Shouldn't.

5. Too many guidebooks

Too many?

In this day and age with wifi all over the world, there is simply no excuse for carrying this many guidebooks... and yet, I am a bookworm. I love having a book to take with me that contains a full history of a country I'm going to, a basic language section and plenty of other gems. This small Swahili book goes with me on every trip to East Africa and it's so tattered now but I wouldn't be without it. Plus, it's more reliable than the internet. Good old books.

So that's my guilty list, what's on yours? 

Walking from Saltaire to Ilkley...

... Or at least walking to Ilkley WAS the plan until it absolutely lobbed it down with rain and hail on Saturday...stupid England.

It doesn't matter though, I've done it before in the sunshine so I would have been super cranky if I'd been caught in the downpour on an exposed moor. Grrrrrr.

Here's some pictures from the sunshiney walk from Saltaire to Ilkley:

*Sigh* England, and Yorkshire in particular, really can be spectacular when it puts its mind to it... but then the rain and wind comes and it's time to stay indoors...

Create Cafe, Ilkley - A Review

Last weekend five of us got the train over to the town of Ilkley for the day to celebrate my bezzie friend Lucy's 30th birthday to get down to some seriously raucous behaviour and debauchary to end her twenties.

Or not.

We headed over to Create Cafe to get messy with paints and put our creative skills to the test by painting pottery. It possibly didn't help that we'd already been drinking on the train on the way there, so we were a little rowdy, but upon entering the (fairly quiet) cafe and being greeted by a birthday party for a young teen party quietened us down quite quickly.

We were skeptical about how the afternoon would pan out, to say the least. We don't realise how much bad language we tend to use as a group until you're being frowned at by a mum of the birthday girl.

So what happens at the Create Cafe, you ask?

Upon entering, you are asked to select a piece of pottery you'd like to paint. I was completely guided by price and wanted to choose something that wasn't overly expensive but that I would use in my home. I picked up a teapot (what? I'd use that!) and put it down VERY quickly when I saw the price tag of £18. I'll just buy one from Ikea...

I selected a ceramic tile for the reasonable sum of £7. I justified it by saying I'd put a hot saucepan on it, but in reality after spending so long painting the bloody thing I'll just display it somewhere.

So, you have your piece of pottery and all the paints are waiting for you on the table, so all that is left for you to do is think of a design and get painting.

This is harder than you think. Being stared at by a blank piece of pottery when you're a little tipsy surrounded by children's birthday parties is quite stressful. "I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO BLOODY PAINT!" I cried several times.

Of course I got started and buggered it up straight away by forgetting to use the white paint first as a base coat. BLOODY HELL.

I wasn't happy with mine from the start but I refused to stop, despite wanting to run away to the nearest pub and cradle a glass of red wine.

On I went, painting and ignoring my more talented friends. There was a period of about seventeen minutes where no one talked, such was our level of concentration.

Two hours quickly went by and I got my tile to a stage where I wasn't cringing with embarrassment, and actually started to really enjoy myself and relax. Ta daaaaaaa maybe I should be a painter?

Here's a shot of our finished products - take a look at our skills!

On the whole, for a two hour activity, it's really reasonably priced when you consider it cost £9 which included a slice of cake. Of course that depends on what you choose to paint, the big bowl in the picture above was the most expensive at £30. It was fun to try something new as a group, and much more productive than drinking all afternoon...

All the materials are included, but you then have to go back and collect your item once it has been blasted in the kiln, so consider that if you don't live in the area. We had a fun afternoon, more fun that we originally expected and the only advice I'd give if you're a little creatively challenged like me, is to look around on Pinterest for some inspiration before you get started. There is no EDIT>UNDO button on pottery :)

It's been one year since my career break*

It's been one year since I packed my suitcase, ready to leave my life as I knew it to go and live in Kenya for three months.

It's been one year since I said the most emotional goodbye to The Boy and a year since he walked out the door and didn't look back for fear of not letting me go.

It's been one year since I was shaking from crying so much and wondering what the hell I was doing leaving my entire life, my marriage, my friends, my job... everything.

It's been one year since I dragged my suitcase over the road to the bus stop, crying the whole time and easily getting my own seat because no one wanted to sit next to the crying lady with all the bags

It's been one year since I stumbled my way through departures at Manchester Airport alone, called all my family and then boarded my first flight on a journey that would take 19 hours and three planes to eventually reach Mombasa, exhausted.

It's been one year since I stepped off the plane, breathed in the hot, dusty and exciting night time scent of Kenya, one year since I was met at the airport by my friend Alice and her daughter, and one year since everything slotted into place.

It's been one year since I knew I'd made the right decision. One year since realising that life was too short not to grab opportunities when they arise. Three months is three months, you have your whole life to be together at home. Mombasa is like a second home to me.

It's been a year since arriving and I still know leaving was the best decision I've ever made, I had the most amazing three consecutive months of my life and spent every day living life, feeling alive and having the most unbelievable zest for life and most importantly, steering me in the right direction.

I don't regret a thing. I don't regret changing my flight twice and paying through the nose for doing so (screw you, Emirates). I don't regret getting a tattoo to mark the significance of everything I risked to go there. I don't regret quitting my job to try something new (sorry i-to-i, it's true!) I don't regret spending everything in my savings account on the trip, because it's just MONEY. You can replace money, I can't replace the experience I had.

Oh, Kenya *sigh* what is this hold you have over me and when can I see you again? Am I being too clingy, Kenya? Are you thinking of me too? Call me.

Until next time... here's shitloads of some photos.

 *Disclaimer - my tenses are all over the place in this post and I don't care.

What I hate about tourists...

If there's one thing that bugs me about tourists, it's how much they stick out.

I know some things can't be helped; for example, my skin feels luminous when I'm in Mombasa and I can't help but stick out... but there are things I do to try my very best to blend in:

* Not wear skimpy shorts and string tops in rural villages
* Learn as much of the local language (and use it as much as possible)
* Not shout when I'm angry

Err... like I say, blending in... ANYWAY

You know what REALLY pisses me off when I'm abroad?

Seeing a money belt. There's something about money belts that just make me see red, I HATE them. I'm talking about those really ugly beige affairs that wrap around tourist bellies... URGH.

I know there are opportunists abroad who might try and steal from you, but don't those people exist back home too? I don't wear money belts walking around Leeds, so it offends me when I see people wearing them overseas. Please don't assume everyone overseas is out to get you! In some places you're actually under less of a threat than in your home town!

I can somewhat understand backpackers wearing them as they're carrying their lives around with them, but I still think if you act in an obvious way then it makes you more of a target.

Take my handbag for example, whenever I go abroad I take the tattiest handbag around with me. It's a few steps up from a beach bag and it's made of cheap fabric. It looks like I couldn't give a shit about what is inside the bag. My (possibly wrong) theory is that if I LOOK like I don't care what's in there, someone will be less likely to think there's anything worth stealing in there.

Make sense? Completely insane? Perhaps. But it has worked for me over the years and (fingers crossed) I've never been the victim of bag theft or any kind of theft.

Now remember, I'm talking about if you're walking around a city/beach destination... I'm not talking on the road long term travel, but it could apply to that too! If you make yourself a target inadvertently, you ARE a target.