Travel Lodge, where dreams go to die

New on the list of ‘least desirable places to die’, is a Travel Lodge in Bolton. Can you think of anything more depressing? For those of you, lucky enough to have never encountered a Travel Lodge, let me enlighten you. Imagine a room containing a bed that sinks in the middle, a brown shower and a few strands of someone else's hair, and an overall air of despair and hopelessness. If the Travel Lodge were a creature, it would be a Dementor. If hotel freebies are your bag (I love stealing miniatures for the Guest Bathroom, I don’t have, in the house I don’t yet live in) you get a real treat in the form of ‘hair, hand, body, arse wash’ in a bottle so small you could swallow it whole. A toiletry form of ‘Jack of all trades, master of none’. Forget wardrobes, hang your Asda Price suit up on this casual rail so you can lay in bed and stare at it where you wonder where it all went wrong. Flick casually through the 7 random channels before deciding the beautiful view of abandoned shops is far more favourable. 

When I was 17, I had a job as a cleaner in a Travel Lodge. They called us ‘Housekeepers’, but there are not many Housekeepers I know that have had to clean human faeces off of a wall. That’s not an exaggeration. The ladies I worked with were bitter and haggard in their role, the only occasion of happiness I ever encountered was the day I was prevented with My Very Own Caddy. A caddy is the basket in which you carry your cloths and cleaning fluids. I was thrilled. We had one guest who had to stay for several weeks as her house was fumigated. Her and her cat. Due to the nauseating smell, no one but me would ever replace her towels or coffee sachets, dodging the cat poop on the floor, the bed. Just what every 17 year old dreams of doing with her Saturday mornings.

The ‘All you can eat breakfast’ includes a soggy croissant, sour milk and a ‘sausage’ which is allegedly made from ‘meat’. They’ll charge you several quid for this privilege. 

So now I’ve taken a slight step up in my life, and occasionally get to stay in one, rather than cleaning it. I have been able to stay in very wide range of accommodation over the past few years, from beautiful spa hotels to hostels, but I have a weird place in my heart for the Travel Lodge. It’s like a trashy tv show you love to hate, you know you’ll hate yourself the whole time, and question your life choices, but there’s something weirdly comforting about that pile of crap and stray pube.

On a midnight train going anywhere...

Some thoughts on Travelling.

It’s 8:21am on a Wednesday morning, and I’m sat on what they tell me is a train. It’s nothing at all like any train I’ve been on, and reminds me more of a scratty old school bus. Yep, the two carriages of my Northern Line “train” have seen better days, but man, am I glad to be on it.

You see, today I’m travelling alone. And for anyone who knows me, that sets alarm bells ringing straight away. Academically, I’m pretty clever, but street smarts I am lacking! I talk to strangers on public transport, I can’t decipher a map and this morning I almost left without my entire case. You can understand why people get worried about me. I’m a little… Ditzy I guess. Last week, when travelling home from a meeting, Steven called and told me to get off at a different stop so he could pick me up. As soon as i put down the phone I promptly forgot where he had said, and so had to ask the lovely older couple opposite me, if they happened to hear me say any particular station names. Thankfully, they had been eavesdropping and could tell me exactly where I was supposed to be getting off. This isn’t the first time I’ve had to rely on nosy strangers. I am a master at fake phonecalls, seriously, I’ve spent so many awkward moments pretending to be on the phone around people that I often forget and get carried away and continue the conversation when I’m alone. So this is the technique I use when I’m on a bus and am not sure where I am or where I’m going (physically and metaphorically). I fake a panicked call (sometimes I throw in tears to keep it fresh) and make it obvious I’m lost and have no idea where to go. Often a friendly but nosy stranger will interrupt and give me the information I need.

Being rather small, and very clumsy, I seem to have an air of 'Damsel in Distress' about me, which makes people want to help me with my stupidly large cases. I'm very stubborn and like to do them myself (mostly) but the thought is nice, and I always try to do the same when I don't have cases of my own. This has led to people thinking I'm robbing them, and me missing my train.

As I grew up I began liking being on transport alone and in some pretty rubbish parts of my life, bus rides were a nice escape, so I’d use my week-rider to ride the bus for a while and read. If I was waiting for a bus, and it didn’t come but the one going the opposite direction did, I’d jump on that, because I’d much rather wait sitting down in the warmth, than stood on the side of the road, and anyway, they all do a circle at some point. 

As lucky as I am that I can read on transport without feeling sick, I can also fall asleep anywhere, at anytime, with no notice. Which of course has led to me, many times, falling asleep on trains and buses and not waking up until way past my stop. Or, on one wonderful occasion, waking up on the shoulder of a very smart business man, and having to pretend to still be asleep but move my head the other side, rather than face the fact that we shared a creepy, intimate moment. And the fact that I had dribbled on his suit. 

I think it’s clear, from all of the above, that I shouldn’t be allowed to travel alone, and yet with my new job, I think it’s going to be happening a lot more often. Oh dear… 

Spending New Years with The Bard

Sometimes, being wonderfully spontaneous and last minute, isn’t so wonderful after all. Take New Years Eve for example. We started planning a little trip away, on Boxing Day. We knew we didn’t want to go out and get drunk; I’ve spent my past few NYE’s working in a night-club, so that’s the last place I wanted to spend the first NYE with Steven! We looked at everything from Disney Land Paris, to London, to Alton Towers, but everything was booked, or far too hard to organise at the last minute. As is often the way, I gave up after a few non-starters, and Steven just got more and more determined. His method in the end involved simply searching for places that happened to have spaces for New Years Eve. And thus we ended up in the Ambleside Guest House in Stratford-Upon-Avon for our first ever New Years.

After being stuck in traffic food what seems like forever (I am so impatient!) we get to the B&B and it's every bit as lovely as promised by reviews. We're greeted by Ruth who is just the nicest lady. She annotates a map for us of all the places we might want to see & do and shows us to our room. She shows us how to use the shower, a simple on/off system but the thought is appreciated and leaves us to settle in. I am amazed by the little touches such as face wipes in the bathroom & tissues next to the bed. It's so homely compared to big chain hotels. It felt like you were in the guest bedroom of a family members house and that was such a lovely feeling for the time of year.

We spent the afternoon mooching around Stratford, which, as Steven exclaimed many times, is incredibly ‘quaint’, though I wouldn’t expect anything different from the birthplace of The Bard. We ended up down a ‘Magical Alley’, where we bought a Butterbeer (Verdict: NOM!) and the MAD Museum which was certainly a highlight for me. The ‘museum’ was full of kinaesthetic sculptures, some that ran constantly, others that required the visitors to do something to put them into motion. The place is not very big, but boy, do they pack a lot of sculptures in! This is one of those wonderful and rare places that really can be enjoyed by any age. A few of the exhibitions were not working, but that’s to be expected with the nature of them, and there really are so many things to see and do that you don’t really miss the odd one or two. We spent well over an hour here, which, when you look at the size of the space, really is impressive. 

It’s nice to be a place that you may have visited (or at least heard about!) as a child, when you’re an adult, because you feel super cultured and fancy! Even if you don’t actually do much Shakespeare related (except gift shops… Sorry!)

Because we are incredibly romantic, we snuck a McDonalds (which took ages to find because the roads were confusing!) into our room (Sorry Ruth!), opened an old bottle of cheap champagne that my mum had given to us (it was so old it didn’t even ‘pop’ and tasted like dead woodlice… I assume) and rewatching episodes of Sherlock. (in preparation for the new episode airing the next day!) We saw 2014 in, in this way, with the fireworks on the telly, are were asleep within the hour in the incredibly comfy bed!

Breakfast was so homely. Instead of huge buffets of mass-made food (don’t get me wrong, I do LOVE breakfast buffets!) the food was completely fresh, brought to you by the owner with friendly conversation. We were so enchanted by everything, that when we told the owners we would be back, we really do mean it.

When we left we decided to pop to Anne Hathaway’s house but the rain put us off, so we headed to Shakespeare’s burial place… Which was closed for the holiday. (Who knew graves could be closed?!) which was a shame, but it gives us an excuse to come back! 

I couldn’t recommend this B&B any more, it really was wonderful! I assumed I was a hotel girl (y’know, with all my experiences of hotels… that i could count on one hand…) but this place really opened my eyes to the beauty of B&Bs.

It also helps that when everyone else woke up covered in their own vomit, with a coldsore from kissing strangers, Steven and I could pretend we were cultured and grown up having spend the time in such a historical place - no one needs to know we spent the time eating Maccys and were in bed by 9pm! 

Amster-DAMN!

Our most recent trip was a little 2 night break to Amsterdam. We booked in on a whim (as is our style), via a Groupon deal. The actual booking was a bit stressful, as they gave you terrible flight times (getting in at 10pm on your first day, and leaving at 5am on your last day, thus getting no time...) and charging you a sneaky £30 to change them. They also tried to 'upgrade' our hotel for free... I'm one for checking reviews (though often not 'til after we've arrived at a place, watch out for our Blackpool post for that one!) so I wanted to see how much better this free upgrade was. Well, as much as we love animals, rats in the kitchen didn't seem much of an 'upgrade' so we asked to be downgraded to our original hotel thanks!

We stayed in the Best Western Hotel plus, Blue Square. We weren't expecting much from it after the booking drama but it was incredible! Clean, friendly, modern. (& the breakfast was to die for!) It was also a really green, eco friendly place, as far as hotels go, so that was an extra few points from us! It was a 25 minute tram ride from the centre, but honestly, riding trams around was one of the best things about Amsterdam for me. It had the convenience of the NYC Tube, but the sight seeing ability of a tour bus. We bought a 3-day travel pass for €16.50 each, which included all trams, buses, trains etc. On the very rare occasions we didn't have something to do, we jumped on the nearest tram and went for a joy ride, just enjoying looking out the windows and seeing bits of Amsterdam that we may not have seen otherwise. There are a few things I noticed about Amsterdam that surprised me. I assumed a place with (sort of) legal drugs, and a buzzing sex industry may be a bit seedy, and dark, maybe even a little scary. However that was so far from the truth! It was such a beautiful place, with incredibly polite and friendly people. Not friendly like 'we work for tips', but just genuinely bloody nice people. We happened to be there on a night when Holland were playing in the World Cup and it was the best atmosphere. Everyone was happy and enjoying the game, sat in the streets watching TVs outside bars and restaurants. There were no fights or the hooliganism that is often attributed to football, it was just a reply celebratory atmosphere. 

Another thing was the lack of hustling. In New York there's always someone asking if you wanna hire a bike, or go to a comedy show, and it gets tedious and a little uncomfortable at times, but Amsterdam, not at all! In fact when we went for a walk around Vondelpark (beautiful! Full of art & people watching opportunities. I recommend it 1000%!) we assumed there would be random people hiring out bikes at every turn, Central Park style, but in fact, we actually found it hard to hire a bike - we had to find somewhere and return the next day. We ended up using the Green Budget Hire Bikes which was pretty cheap and the bikes were reliable. We read on the website it was a passport for deposit but we ended up being asked for €200 too! It was our last day so of course we didn't have that, so we had to compromise. Biking in the park was wonderful but, as someone who has zero balance, coordination and awareness (as well as appalling eye sight!) Amsterdam has a lot of free wifi! On trains, shops, in the street! Even in the queue for the Anne Frank House - I love free wifi - take note the rest of the world! 

Speaking of the Anne Frank House, it is, as I'm sure you assumed, a must see. The queue was about an hour and a half for us, but it's hard to complain when you remember the story behind the house you are about to enter - 2 hours is nothing! (& you can book online if you know in a few months advance! - The perils of us being so bloody spontaneous!) We were in there for ages because there's so much to see, read and watch, and, due to the popularity, you end up in a constant, slow-moving queue of other people. We were sadly in a group with a really loud group of American people, about our own age, who found it appropriate to laugh, giggle and flirt loudly when we were in the actual rooms. When we visited the 9/11 memorials in New York I was uncomfortable with their being a 'gift shop', and so I was relieved to see that no such thing exists at the Anne Frank House, only a shop of books, which seems far more apt!

On the first night we ate at a little place called Alberto's in Leidseplein. (Top tip: if you get lost, make your way to leidseplein, or Central, that's where most of the touristy places are!) They were offering steak for €12.50 and we were celebrating so we gave it a go! The steak came with a big side salad and a plate of fries and was beautiful! It was such a lovely restaurant too! There were loads of places over the week that had all you can eat ribs, so I'm not really sure what that was about, but if you like ribs, you'll do just fine!

We went to a flea market which was more of a general market with the odd car boot style stall, but great to browse around. Although open til around 5pm, when we got their at 4pm, some were already starting to pack up, so get there in plenty of time! The Ben & Jerry's shop is worth a look in, even for the decor alone! I got a lovely milkshake, and was feeling amazed, when Steven pointed out, they'd just put the Baked Alaska ice-cream in a blender with some milk - we can totally do that! But for waffles or cones with irresistible B&Js ice cream, it's a lovely way to cool down and not as over-priced as I would have thought.

We took a ride on the canals with a tour company which seemed a little over-priced for what it was, but I'm glad we did it as we wanted to see the beautiful waters of Amsterdam. Also, it was in the TFiOS movie and so it had to be done! 

One of our first stops was the Sex Museum. This was so worth the money as it was huge! There was sculptures and paintings, as well as a huge section of raunchy pictures through the ages. It's fascinating to see the trends and how things have changed (and how things have always been the same...!). It's an interesting place because it has the air of a normal museum, where you should take everything seriously, even awkward bowls made of male appendages.. however when you walk up the stairs and a giant model of a vagina queefs at you, it's hard not to giggle like school children. There are several other museums of this type in the Red Light district and I'm gutted we missed seeing the Museum of Prostitution but will certainly be paying that a visit next time!
The Red Light District is so different to how I had imagined! It just has the atmosphere of a road full of night clubs... Clubs that just so happen to have women in their underwear in the windows. It didn't feel seedy or unsafe and was an interesting place to visit. The sex trade is very different in Amsterdam. The women are protected and even have to pay tax. By making it legal and regulated it seems a whole lot safer, the exchanges happen in a room, rather than in someone's car, so there is less chance for anything untoward to happen. 
There wasn't a time in the whole few days, that I felt uncomfortable or intimidated, and for someone who worries as much as me - that's a big deal! 
So, my top tips for Amsterdam:

- Get a travel card and enjoy the trams
- Watch out for bikes, everyone says it and they're not kidding!
- Book Anne Frank tickets in advance

Come away with me...

At the grand old age of 21, I had only been abroad twice. Once, as a small child with my best friend and her family to Greece, of which I remember mainly the pool and a restaurant that we danced in a lot, and once on a cultural exchange to Hungary as a hormone-filled tween, interested slightly more in kissing boys than learning about culture...

As I grew up, a severe lack of funds, and a boyfriend who believed "adventure" was eating cheese before bed, meant that travelling was just not an option. After a messy break-up (& it's not a messy break up until you cut all your hair off...) I decided to pack up my little life & move up North to study near Liverpool. It was here that I met Mr Steven Wright.

It wasn't until second year of university that we got close, Steven just having come out of a messy break up of his own, & I was fascinated by his stories of far off lands. When I had spent most of my childhood at the same Haven holiday park, Steven had been on exotic, sunny holidays to places 7 year old me didn't even know existed.

2 months after becoming a couple, the topic of summer holidays came up & Steven asked where I wanted to go. I mentioned how my dream would be America, but what an impossible dream, right...?! But Steven is very stubborn. & so, whilst I was in hospital having my appendix ripped from my body, it was booked, only 3 weeks in advance, and the adventure began!

Now, a year later, we travel as often as we can, whether it's a weekend spa break in Lancaster, a trip to my home town to see the family, or a midweek trip to Amsterdam. Whilst our friends are carrying around babies, we are carrying backpacks & we've decided to document it along the way to look back on when we're old and boring. Steven is a freelance photographer (& the rest!) and I love to rabbit on, so it would be a waste not to, right?