You know those times where you open the fridge door and stare aimlessly inside – hoping that by some miracle something interesting has found its way in there since the last time you stood in front of the open fridge and stared aimlessly inside looking for something interesting.
Well, I’ve been having the bloggy equivalent of that – one of those moments when even though I’ve got a list of potential things to write about, I have absolutely no inclination to write about them. Like when all that’s in the fridge is water and salad and, as we all know, no good story ever began with a salad.
So what to write about when you’ve got nothing to write about? Dream destinations, of course.
Dream destinations are those ones that you’d absolutely love to go to or love to visit that you don’t actually have to have a practical plan in place or money in the bank for. That’s why they’re called dream destinations. They can be places that you’ve been to before, but maybe there’s an activity you want to do, or a swanky place you wish that you’d stayed in – or eaten in. When it comes to dream destinations, there are no rules and no limitations.
Here are mine – in no particular order…
Chelsea Flower Show. I gave Richie in Wish You Were Here the dream of one day displaying at Chelsea – that’s because I’d like to go and see his garden. One day. I even looked up the price and it’s a ridiculous price to go and walk around what is essentially a garden. And it books out 6 months ahead. But I still want to go.
Shetland. Shetland Islands, Faroe Islands, generally speaking all of those islands up there in the north of Scotland. Sometimes I’d like to visit during the fire festival Up Helly Aa, but that’s in the middle of winter and the dark would do my head in. On the other hand, the constant light and the midges would do my head in if I went in midsummer. I always remember a joke Billy Connolly told about how the wind is so strong up there that if a dog pissed in Lerwick, someone in Norway would wipe their face and say something like ‘aye, that rain tastes like dog piss.’ Actually, he could have been talking about Wick, but you get the idea.
On the subject of Scottish Islands, I’d love to visit the Isle of Skye and whichever other ones I can get to. The Hebrides – they’re up there too, right? Apparently the airport at Barra is actually on the beach and not accessible at high tide.
Cornwall and Dorset. Ok, I’ve been to both – most recently in December 2015 – but there are places I really want to explore properly. I think it’s all those stories about smugglers and coves.
While in England, it could be cool to walk the Ridgeway or the Cotswolds Way, but I’m aware that after Milford Track I did say never ever again…
Oxford. I was a mad Inspector Morse fan, and am now equally (ok, perhaps a little more) devoted to Lewis. Despite this, I’ve never been to Oxford, but want to go and drink at that pub near the bridge, and stay at the Randolph.
Iceland. Yep, I’ve seen the photos on Instagram and heard the sagas, and it all looks and sounds mythic and fabulous. Plus I remember reading an old Desmond Bagley book that was set there. Running Blind I think it was called…
The Northern Lights – or the Southern Lights… I’m not particularly fussy.
Christmas in Vienna or Innsbruck or Salzburg or somewhere Sound of Music-y with sleigh bells and real houses that look like gingerbread cottages and people who dress up in braces when they’re old enough not to.
Six months in a cottage in Tuscany – or Provence…again, I’m not fussy. I have this fantasy about wandering down to a market and cooking fresh produce and buying fresh bread, and drinking way too much red wine. And yes, I know I don’t need to go to either Tuscany or Provence to drink way too much red wine, but there’s a fantasy around this one.
London to Edinburgh on the Flying Scotsman in a first class cabin. Does the Flying Scotsman even still run? Note to self, google it.
While we’re on the subject of trains, I’d also like to do the Orient Express – again in a first class cabin, but not if it means I have to dress up for it.
Speaking of dressing up, I wouldn’t mind doing the crossing from Southampton to New York (or vice versa) on a Cunard line ship – one of the Queens. Again, I’m not big on the whole dressing for dinner thing, but I’d cope for that period of time.
Broome. Why? Because it’s so expensive to get there and requires planning – but I’ve always wanted to ride a camel along Cable Beach at sunset. While in WA, Esperance and Ningaloo Reef are on my itinerary. I’ve always wanted to swim with the whale sharks and see that turquoise water for myself.
Hayman Island in the Barrier Reef is also on the list – and the only one that earns its place by way of the posh accommodation as well as the fabulous beach and reef.
What else? A luxurious South Pacific island with hardly any other guests, decent food, white beaches, turquoise water, turtles and pretty fish to swim with and a bikini ready body (even though no one would care about it) and a cabin (air-conditioned) by the water in which I can create my next chick lit masterpiece. Maybe somewhere like the Cook Islands? Hubby reckons that would be his worst nightmare.
So I asked him what his list would look like and, after he asked about the rules and the cost, he said:
- A Cunard world cruise
- St Petersburg
- Orient Express
- Northern lights
- an EPL game
- A rugby test at Cardiff
What about you? If you could go anywhere and there were no pesky practicalities, where would you go? Or stay? Or do?
(Because it’s Thursday I’m linking up with the Loving’ Life crew…)