Bedfordshire, United Kingdom
It’s been a strange winter in the northern hemisphere. While some regions have been hit by major chills and heavy snow, other places have basked in unseasonal warmth. One such place is here in the UK where mean temperatures in December 2011 hit record highs. Finally though, winter has arrived overnight with heavy snow affecting most of the country.
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Right now, as you’re reading this, the sun is going mental. I’m keen to avoid blinding you with science, but there’s no other way of saying it. It’s got the grumps, big style. In layman’s terms, it’s hurling “space nasties” right at us. If all the science nerds’ predictions are correct, it ought produce beautiful Aurora’s or “cosmic disco lights” in the night sky sometimes over the next 24 hours.
Here in the UK, we don’t get to see the aurora borealis much, if at all. Only those lucky (and freezing and isolated) souls in the Shetland Isles tend to get to see them. Seems though, if the geeks have done their sums correctly, there’s a chance almost all of the UK should get to see something green and “glowy” tomorrow night. Exciting!
I’ll keep you posted and leave you with this photo I took a moment ago of the constellation ‘Orion’. Check out his snazzy belt! Admittedly, it’s a terrible photo, but I’ll hopefully have something better tomorrow.
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I subscribe to a lot of great travel blogs. Lately, a few of them have participated in a cool travel-related meme which recalls travel experiences via the magic of the alphabet. So, I thought I’d have a go too. This’ll be the first meme I’ve ever participated in. I know, shocking!
I was probably around 8 or 9 years old. We used to go on long road-trips around Europe as a family. The most epic was a drive from London to Rome. We stopped off on the way in Luxembourg and the beautiful Black Forest in Germany to camp. After a week and a half in and around Rome, we took the motorail back to Calais. A great and memorable trip.
I’m not a massive beer drinker. I only really got into it this year whilst on a long flight from London Heathrow to Singapore. All they had that sounded familiar was Heineken so I had a can of that to calm my nerves through the bumpy bits over the Himalayas. It was okay, but I would have preferred a cider. I don’t mind a Peroni now and again either.
Indian. A large variety of flavours, textures and heat levels means for me, it never gets boring. Plus, it’s always filling and comforting. I like that I can rely on it to deliver all these things. A close second would be Italian, though that’s only because we’re an Italian family who eats Italian food pretty much every other day.
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Last weekend, I was in Paris, France. What with a direct train connection from my hometown to London St. Pancras International station and an onward connection by Eurostar to central Paris, it’s really easy for me to get a short ‘fix of français’ whenever I need it.
I arrived at lunchtime at Gare du Nord. Naturally, I was hungry (I always am, but I’m particularly so around midday for some reason) so I thought about where I could grab something to eat. This isn’t too much of a problem for Paris. There are thousands of food options and places to eat and you’re pretty much guaranteed that it will be tasty and fulfilling.
I still had my bag on my back though. I hadn’t even checked in at my hotel. A proper restaurant or cafe was not what I wanted. I needed something quick. After a moments thought, I knew exactly what would hit the spot. I hopped on the metro and headed for Rue des Rosiers.
I had already had falafel in Paris’ Marais district before. I had enjoyed it a lot, but I didn’t have much choice in where to get it. I had stupidly turned up on a Saturday, the Jewish sabbath, so apart from this one place, all the outlets were closed. This time, I did have a choice, though I only had one place in mind; the much-hyped L’As du Fallafel.
You can’t miss the green facade of what is, for some reason, trumped as Lenny Kravitz’s favourite falafel restaurant. Bright flashing lights, press cuttings and a bright yellow menu board draw you in. A guy with a small receipt book rounds up potential customers in French with smatterings of English. Once you’ve joined the queue, he takes your order, you pay him and he hands you a receipt which you then hand to the guys behind the window. “How hot do you want it,” you’re asked. “Hot!” is the response. With tongs, crisp salted cucumber and pickled red & white cabbage is quickly flicked into large, soft pitta bread. Five (six if you’re lucky) glistening golden brown balls of fried chickpea fritters (falafel) are thrown in along with soft aubergine. On top of it all, hummus and hot harissa sauce is spooned on.
It’s difficult describing the taste without being vague. You’ll just have to try it for yourself. I love food that has a variety of textures and flavours all in one, so for me it really hits the spot. Its crispy and soft, sweet and sour, hot and mild, crunchy and chewy. It ticks all the boxes. If you’re not sitting in the adjoining restaurant, the generally accepted way to eat is to find a nearby doorway to stand in or find a step or kerb to sit on. Then open your mouth wide and stuff as much of it in as possible. Forget about your dignity and manners. It’s just too good.