All in preparation...

Today I am worrying about my kidneys, bean. Last year I contracted a kidney infection, apparently from my youth, and spent a few days in hospital connected to a drip. And after a sleepless night from back-ache, I am now drinking water like a fish just in case. I am also speeding up to Lancaster on a Virgin tilting train. Amazingly I am sitting first class, for the first time and have already been offered tea, coffee, cold drinks and sandwiches. Stupidly I have turned them all politely down and am now rather peckish. I thought I was going to have a relaxing time back home. I was wrong. From Hammersmith to Henley, birthday meals to catch-up coffees; I spent most of my time on the move. And that's just the start. Edinburgh is on the cards the weekend. I will never learn. Still, I am sure this is all wonderful practice for the half-marathon in May. Although there I will strive not to stop, even if I want to.

Oh here we come a wandering...

Over the past few weeks I have had to be rather like a broad bean. From Jamaica, to the Pop-Up Restaurant, Sweden to Bath. I am very happy to be home. Though not for long! Next stop Henley, shortly followed by Lancaster, and then to Edinburgh for my friend's birthday dance-off. If only I didn't have two left feet. That is not to say I did not enjoy my travels. I loved them. Bath was definitely the most relaxing. How the Roman Baths were not discovered until the late 1800s when the water, that had built up for centuries, pushed its way into the cellars of the houses above is astounding. The Abbey is another beautifully crafted building - in fact most of Bath is stunning. This was not always the case. Until 1960 most of the sandy-coloured stone had been dyed black from years of pollution. Perhaps this is another reason as to why Jane Austen did not enjoy her time in Bath after 1800. For the rest of the day I have vowed to put my feet up and relax. However, I am not one to sit still. I could probably be diagnosed as having itchy feet. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, there is no known cure.

(A while back I promised to write up how the Pop-Up Restaurant went on my cousin's blog, Food and Biscuits. It is now live here, so feel free to take a look.)

Planes, trains and snowmobiles...

Tonight I am a has-bean. I have just returned from Åre, Sweden and would very much like to go back. Åre is an unusual ski resort. Impressive comes to mind. The mountains rise up out of the frozen lake, which is technically a river. And as our taxi driver Tommy explained (by taking both hands off the steering wheel, putting them to the side of his head and bellowing), there are a lot of moose. With only 1,000 permanent residences in Åre, they very much welcome tourists. And as they all speak very good English you don't feel like an outsider. As well as skiing the slopes, we went snowmobiling. Snowmobiles to Swedes are like bikes to the Brits; everyone seems to own one. Luckily no one was injured on the ride, despite one couple colliding with a tree, and another ploughing into a snow-drift. The same can not be said of the snowmobiles. One thing I would say is if you are not a fan of T-bars, then perhaps Åre is not for you. Then again, I can't stand them and I still managed to have a wonderful time. 

Bring on the booze...

Goodness knows what bean I am today. Crazy comes to mind. I am hosting a charity dinner for a group of friends tomorrow. My plan. To get them as drunk as possible so if it goes horrendously wrong they won't remember.
Back in January I took part in the Everest Challenge for Snow-Camp. Snow-Camp is an innovative youth charity that uses a unique combination of skiing, snowboarding and life-skills programmes to support inner-city young people. All the money raised during the meal will be donated to this organisation.
Not only am I going to keep the wine flowing, I am also flying off to Sweden the next day just in case I become a wanted chef. All records of Saturday night will be posted on a very successful food blog called  Food and Biscuits. (Created by my cousin and her fiance.) So take a look (although give it a few days) and I hope you enjoy it.
The next time you hear from me I will probably be in Åre. So wish me luck. If nothing appears then I will make sure someone posts the whereabouts of my funeral. Food poisoning can be deadly. So are hung-over friends.

Apparently I don't look that innocent...

Today I am an addicted-to-coffee bean. After only managing to grab a few winks on the flight home due to lumpy seating, I am desperately trying to remain awake so I don't become nocturnal. My Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee also made the sniffer dog in Gatwick rather excitable. This meant I was taken aside by two burly blokes who proceeded to interrogate me about my time in Kingston. They finished by stabbing my coffee until they were satisfied that if it ever had been alive, it was now definitely dead, and that it was not harbouring any other suspicious substance. Luckily for me, it wasn't.
I've had an incredible time in Jamaica. From diving to dolphins through to manatees and making cakes, it's been a really wonderful holiday. A wise person once said, 'people make things special'. A well-worn phrase, but one that holds very true. Helen and her family went above and beyond to give me a taste of what Jamaica has to offer. And I loved every minute.

Those horns are made for honking...

Two days ago I was a soybean. Patties are a local favourite in Jamaica, and after trying one, I can see why. Slightly like Cornish Pasties, but with a hint of chilli and a range of fillings from fish to beef to soya, it makes the perfect snack.
When thinking about Jamaicans 'laid back' and 'no problem' comes to mind. And indeed, many are. However, after travelling to a number of places, especially Kingston, the relaxed attitude is clearly being stretched. The center is packed with shoppers closely monitored by policemen carrying rifles. Shanty towns, rather like the slums of India stretch for miles. Horns blare as cars make their presence known (usually while cutting up other drivers or people). And families selling local produce (or men tapping on windows to ask for change), weave through the queues created by pot-holes and traffic lights. Night-time brings a whole new world. Iron railings and shutters close across shop windows and home porches causing them to resemble miniature versions of Fort Knox. The volume is muted as the streets slowly become deserted. And yet even with barriers guarding their possessions and the slight road-rage, everyone remains friendly, open and helpful. From directing traffic when a lorry breaks down to pointing you the right way when lost, a wave and a smile, whatever their mood, goes a long way.