When I think of Cornwall, I think of rugged cliffs, rocky inlets and coves, cream teas and crumbly fudge.
Often overlooked in favour of Northern Italy’s other big hitters (Florence, Milan and Venice, I’m looking at you), Bologna is an underrated gem which, dare I say it, I much preferred to its northerly neighbour, Florence.
Florence is synonymous with the Renaissance, and I’d wager most visitors to Florence venture to at least one of its museums to catch a glimpse of Botticelli’s Birth of Venus or Michelangelo’s David. Not us.
Once upon a time, Ostia was a thriving port city with over fifty thousand inhabitants and a buzzing social scene (a theatre, plus public baths and taverns aplenty). Over time, attention shifted to Portus – a harbour on the north of the River Tiber – and Civitavecchia – a city sixty-odd kilometres to the north-west of Rome. Trade in Ostia slowed, and the city fell into decline.
Rome took me surprise, in a good way. I expected it to be busy – and it was, but not excessively so (travelling in shoulder season certainly helped). I expected it to be rainy, because the weather forecast looked dire for the few days we’d be there – but it was balmy. I expected it to expensive – and while I’m sure it can be, I found it wasn’t all that difficult to visit on the cheap.
East Anglia is home to some glorious stretches of sand and shingle. From Hunstanton’s pinky-red cliffs and Blakeney Point’s grey seal colony (if you want to see oodles of adorable seal pups, now’s the time to go) to Cromer’s sandy shores and the colourful beach huts of Southwold, there’s a beach for everyone and every season.
Who doesn’t love an excuse to reminisce over trips from years (or months) gone by? I’ve not done one of these tags for yonks, and in the weeks since Rebecca from Rebecca Goes Rendezvous tagged me in this one I’ve been mulling over my responses, leafing through photos and pondering future escapes. Let’s crack on!