Since Marcin and I moved to the UK to live here permanently, exploring this incredible island was always on the agenda. We have bravely took our first car – a white Volkswagen polo G40 – on a numerous trips around. During the ten years of living here, we have visited Devon, Scotland (4 times), Cornwall, Cotswold. Isle of Wight (few times) and many many towns, not mentioning exploring the National Trust properties across England. Our recent trip to York has proven that the United Kingdom has some hidden gems and you do not really need to spend a fortune to see incredible places.
The Museum established in Palazzo Poggi is one of the most fascinating places I have ever visited. The structure of the Palazzo dates back to the works carried out in the 16 century to modify and enlarge the building that had been purchased at the end of the 15 century by the Poggi family. The plan to expand and embellish the palace dates from the mid-1500s and was the idea of Giovanni Poggi, powerful cleric and eminent figure in the papal curia.
In the early hours of the morning Jemaa el-Fnaa in Marrakesh looks quiet and empty. All the rush and colours of the evening disappear, leaving the square open to random visitors. A few pigeons flew away as we crossed the square. Until then not bothered by few locals gathered in the middle, sitting comfortable on the ground, enjoying the sunny morning. The mighty tower of Koutoubia Mosque was rising slowly, painted in gold by the waking sun.
I was scanning the UK map carefully, looking for a perfect place to get away on a short weekend trip. Since I am a huge fan of English cathedrals, York was an easy choice. The famous York Minster awaited!
Apart from that GPSmyCity guys contacted me recently asking if I want to host a giveaway on my blog. Since I have never done anything like that before – I have decided to jump on the opportunity!
I felt tired, not interested, dreaming about a bed, in which I could actually sleep, not surrounded by loud snoring of others and not listening to the wind violently jerking the Berber’s tent. My night at the desert was uncomfortable sleepless, my butt felt sore and I could not think or imagine a place where the sand was not getting into. After spending one day in the car to get to Zagora, hoping all the way to arrive in one piece, desperately holding my suitcase while riding on a camel and trying to remove my contact lenses without getting sand in my eyes, I was not up for doing anything. But since I was not planning on coming back here, I dragged my sorry ass out of the car and went for a walk with our little group.
The alarm on my phone rung at 6. I was not asleep for at least half an hour, woken up by my growing excitement. After all we were going to visit the desert today – even more, we were going to spend the night on the desert, with the Berbers, in the tents! My head was filled with pictures of enormous dunes, caravans of camels negotiating their way under the hot sun and a few colourful Berber’s tents, sitting in the middle of nowhere. The Moroccan desert – our home for the night.
The Fisherman’s Bastion litters down the hill, the tongue of its stairs slowly descending towards the city. The view from a delicate mixture of neo-Gothic and neo-Romanesque structure is simply magnificent. After all you are on the hill, looking towards the houses and its red roofs, even more visible during a cloudy day.
I love city breaks! They give me enough time to get the taste of the city and recharge my batteries for the upcoming week of work. For a short period of time I am finding myself in a different country, surrounded by different people, eating local cuisine and enjoying sightseeing to the full. If I could afford it, I would be on a city break every week!
The corridors took us deeper inside the guts of the Labyrinth. The electric lights flickered, and the yellowish glare uttered strange shapes on the walls. The path was dump and mud stuck to the sole of our shoes. The wax figures looked at us with a question hanging in the air, waiting for us to stop and look back at them. We were not entirely sure in which part of the Labyrinth we were. For a moment I had a feeling we were here before, passing through too quickly. The caves seemed cold and hot at the same time…
I longed for a sun so I quickly made my way up, to the top of the Museum of Photography in Marrakesh. I wanted to sit on a terrace, bathed in the yellowish afternoon. It was our first day in Morocco, our first encounter with Moroccan cuisine and famous mint tea. The terrace was filled with people patiently waiting for the waiter’s attention and we joined in with our stomachs rumbling with hunger. From the top of the building we could admire the roofs of the town, stretching out on every side, up to the horizon and beyond.