When my family came in town a few months ago, they had forwarded me an itinerary from one of their friends outliing their plans for London. I went through with a local's eye and added/removed things, then stumbled upon something I hadn't heard of.

For our first trip as a married couple, Paul and I decided to go outside our normal travel box.

No Europe. No English. No problem?

We had a friend from Egypt and had always told him if he went back, we wanted to go. We had dreams of the pyramids, and Arabian nights.  Finally, 6 months after the wedding, the opportunity arose. He was travelling back for a cousins wedding, so we hopped on the opportunity to travel with someone who could guide us around better than we ever could on our own.

Day 1 - we arrive to the airport in Cairo around 2 am, after a nice, long layover in Amsterdam. We get our visas, follow the queue out the exit to find our friend's brother who so kindly met us as such an ungodly hour.

We get in the car and off we go. Less than a minute in, I'm already terrified. What is the driver doing?! It was my first big culture shock of the trip. Forget lanes, forget rules, forget seat belts, forget traffic laws. What's the fastest way from point A to B? Despite the drivers best attempts otherwise, we made it safely to the hotel.  Where we were promptly sent through security. What the? I'm starting to worry about what I've gotten myself into.

????? There are no words

After allowing ourselves to sleep in, we made it out into Cairo. The differences from my home in Texas were everywhere. Besides the crazy driving and honking, you have calls to prayer, where men would stop in the street to pray, covered women walking around with their families and just a general sense of hustle and bustle that comes in a city of 10M people.

And so I took the week to soak it all in. Despite the smog (disgusting), waste problem (trash everywhere), poverty and my lack of ability to speak the language or even try to read it, I loved it.

We strolled around the Khan al Khalili, where you could bargain for hours over something that cost $5.


We visited our first mosques, including one of the largest I've seen yet - Mohammad Ali Mosque - located up on the citadel of the city.

Al Azhar Mosque - my first, but not last time covered

Inside the courtyard of the Mohammad Ali Mosque

Mohammad Ali Msoque

We wandered the Egyptian National Museum, with artifacts scrammed into every possible space, but very few descriptions, and almost none in English, wishing we had sprung for the private tour guide. Paul caught the eye of some young school girls who followed us around, speaking to him in English and giggling.

No photos inside, but they have some strategically placed items outside

We stood in awe of the enormous pyramids and sphinx, wondering how they could have gotten there, and how they were still there thousands of years later. We even let ourselves get suckered into a camel photo, then finally a camel ride. It may be touristy, but who can imagine a better backdrop for our first camel ride.




It was all completely foreign, a trip I knew I would never forget. And little did I know that it would prepare for my life in Turkey later on. After our travels to Egypt, the foreign just didn't seem quite so unusual and foreign anymore.

Some of our friends (same ones we visited Copenhagen with) had planned a trip to Ben Nevis for our second bank weekend in May and were trying to convince me to go.

Ben Nevis is the tallest mountain in the UK. It stands at 4,409 feet tall (1,344 meters), which is not saying much if you're from somewhere like Colorado, or even West Texas. But for me and my out of shape self, that's a big mountain to climb.

But, I let myself get talked into it. I figured that 3 months was a long time to get into shape, and we were doing a wellness challenge at work, I was taking zumba classes; YES, in 3 months, I would be ready to climb a mountain.

Three months later, and I'm packing for the trip. I found myself with my running shoes, socks, yoga pants and a t-shirt. Because I was travelling, I left my bag packed for Paul to bring to the airport for me on our Friday flight. The day prior to leaving, our friend who is much more familiar with hiking warned us to bring cold weather clothes, as it was set to be hovering right around freezing at the top.

At that point, I realised my yoga pants probably wouldn't cut it and anxiety of what lay ahead of me seeped in.

Luckily, Paul was able to prepare me with a little better attire, so on Sunday, after our day at the Lochs, I found myself staring up to what I figured was the top of the mountain we were about to conquer.

When we set out in the morning, the fog was surrounding us. On one hand, we missed some spectacular views on the first part of our climb; on the other hand, I couldn't see what lay ahead of us. We walked past a lake, only to miss it, and see it was we looked back down.

Lochan Meall an t-Siudhe - we stopped for a snack and rest for the weary (aka me)

Despite the weather and grueling exercise, the hike was beautiful. Besides the lake, we passed a waterfall that seemed to cascade all the way down to the bottom of the mountain. I felt like a little wood nymph hopping from stone to stone to avoid getting my running shoes wet (note to self: pack some gortex shoes next time). We passed sheep on the way up, crazing with their babies, as if it were nothing to have people wander through their backyards. And, as we peered over the side of the mountain, we often caught a few minutes glimpse of different parts of the valley below: a loch, the town, the inlet to the sea. It was almost as if the fog opened up to give us a moments encouragement, then rolled back in so that we couldn't be distracted from our mission for too long.

As we went up and down the mountain, my wardrobe continued to change. At this point, I seem to have most of my gear on. Must have been cold!

I was obsessed with the sheep in Scotland. I probably came home with at least 50 pictures of them

One of the moments with a good view

The fog also seemed to distort everyone's views of what we had left. One couple told us an hour; what felt like an hour later, we were told 15 minutes; then another 15 minutes. Then, I gave up asking until we reached the summit.

Almost to the top! It was so crowded with people, kids and lots of dogs too. Belle would have loved the snow

I can't make any claims that I was a good climber. I tried to pace myself to the best of my ability, taking water breaks and/or snack breaks. And 5 hours later, I had gone up the 1 vertical mile, who knows how many switchback miles, to the top. After celebrating with some sherry and/or whiskey, we snapped a few shots, exchanged a few high fives, and the mounds of snow drove me back towards the bottom.

Yes!

The whole gang at the highest point of the mountain

I would like to say that going back down was a piece of cake. In some ways, it was. Only 3 hours to descend, it was certainly faster. But, with lots of scree (loose rock), it made it difficult on your knees, especially when it started to mist, then rain. That, added in with the crowds of other people who made the same climb, you had to watch your step.

Some of the group found sliding to be a more efficient way to descend the mountain

So, when we made it to the bottom, it was time to celebrate! We figured we burned off 2,000 calories meaning we could indulge in a beer at the very least.

I am so happy I made it to the top. I'd say I am proud, but I was definitely the straggler of the group. I will say I am proud to have kept going, despite my muscles burning, the cold weather, and my body's sincere desire to not climb a mountain.

I can say with definite certainty, however, I will not be partaking in the Three Peaks Challenge anytime soon!

When it was clear, the views were just about worth it

For our second bank holiday weekend, we trekked to Scotland with some friends to do some mountain climbing (more to come on this later!). Our trip followed a busy few weeks for me, meaning that the day we flew out to Scotland, I happened to be flying back from Istanbul.

Luckily, my flight arrived back in the same terminal I left from, making it easy to catch my flight. Unluckily, due to the emergency landing earlier in the day at Heathrow, out flight to Glasgow was extremely delayed, meaning there was no way I was going to miss my flight with hours to kill at the airport.  At 1 am, we finally found ourselves at our final destination and wandered across the street to our hotel for the night.

The next morning came too early for our sleepy selves, but we weren't going to be deterred - we were going to see Nessie!

I was particularly excited about this, because while I had visited both Glasgow and Edinburgh, I had never ventured outside of the cities to view the Lochs.

Our first loch spotting - Loch Lomond

 We had a 2.5 hour drive ahead of us, so we hit the road. We drove by loch after loch, including one called Loch Lochy, until we found ourselves finally at Loch Ness. The lake is larger than I expected it to be, and I found out that it is the largest body of fresh water in England. It stretches 23 miles North to South, and 1 mile wide.

Panorama of Urquhart Castle - I think I could have lived there

To get the best views of the loch, we visited Urquhart Castle. I wanted to visit a castle on our highlands trip, and as luck had it, this was the one we found.  It isn't so much a castle anymore as ruins, but perhaps this is better. Less obstruction for the views of the beautiful Loch Ness. During it's 500 year history as a medieval fortress, it was one of Scotland's largest castles. It held everyone from the English, to the Scots, and in its final years in the 15th and 16th centuries, it was a stronghold against invasions from the MacDonald Lord of the Isles.

Urquhart Tower, with the great dining hall ruins on the right

After we were rushed out at closing time, JUST missing the video on the history of the castle, we meandered back on the winding roads of the loch towards Glencoe, where we would stay the night.

Sunday - Ben Nevis day. That's all I will say for now, except for that I lived to tell the tale.

Monday was the last day of our holiday. We were tired from Sunday, all walking with an odd limp to our step, so we decided the perfect way to forget our fatigue was by partaking in one of the things Scotland is most well known for. Scotch, of course.

We toured the Glengoyne Distillery, one of the few distilleries that is still Scottish owned. Our tour started off with a sample of the 12 year scotch to put us in the mood for the rest of the tour. We walked around the distillery, seeing everything from the water source, to the malted barley, to wort, to the final product. It was interesting to compare it to the beer brewing process, and learn about the regulations that have taken place over time. In the early 1800's they paid something like £15 for a license to make scotch, or in current days, up to 75% of each bottle in taxes. We wrapped up the tour in the gift shop with a final sampling of the 15 year Scotch. My samples were more like tiny sips - I still haven't learned to appreciate a good Scotch, but the boys seemed to enjoy themselves. Fortunately, we had a brave designated driver. It was Sarah's first time driving in the UK and she was a good sport. I can't imagine having to drive in a car full of slightly intoxicated men, as they shout curb check!

Some of the equipment where the alcohol is taken out of the barley not once, but twice

We made it safe and sound at the airport, with no (or at least little compared to Friday's) flight delays. I was ready to unpack my bags, and repack them again for Dallas, with a little bit of Scotch to share with my family.

With more visitors in town, we continued our quest to find the perfect tea in London. Each visitor we have this year will be sampling tea in a new locale for us; partly for their enjoyment, but mostly for ours. I enjoy trying out different specialties and teas at each place we visit, taking in the atmosphere each place offers and most of all, relaxing without distractions with family and friends .

As I've scheduled more tea times, I have come to find that I'm not the only one on this mission. There is a Tea Guild that sets out to pick the best tea places throughout the UK. Like secret shoppers, judges go to each establishment to rate them on things like decor, knowledge of tea, efficiency, and more.

And much to my delight, I found that we had booked a tea time at what was chosen by the Tea Guild as London's Top Afternoon Tea in 2013 - The Goring Hotel.

So, on the last day of the weekend, we found ourselves at the Goring for tea time.

The room itself was quite lovely - wooden panels, inviting chairs and couches, and a little sun room, with seats outside as well, which I can imagine are widely used during beautiful summer days.

My grandmother getting ready for the tea and the beautiful place settings. Each tea saucer had the cameo of Goring under where the cut sits

Because it was my cousin's birthday, we decided to go for the Champagne Tea in celebration. In addition to the champagne, they brought out what was perhaps my favorite thing of the whole tea. We each had a plate full of sliced strawberries, drizzled in cream. They were the perfect complement to the champagne.

The strawberry mountain, topped with a fresh drizzle of cream

Finally, came the main attraction - the tea. I had the Goring's Afternoon Blend, while others sampled the Fortum & Mason Royal Blend and a Darjeeling tea. The food was the standard fare - egg salad sandwiches, chicken salad, although they did have a goat cheese and roasted pepper sandwich was new to me and very delicious. I stuffed myself so full of scones, I ALMOST skipped having any of the chocolatey goodness at the end, but I found a little bit of room for a macaroon and some type of chocolate cake.

Our eats - you get a great look at the clotted cream here. So soft, it looks like ice cream

Our food tray again. We definitely got a second tray of scones once we finished the first

So we sat, talked, followed the rules of no electronics (minus these pictures), replenished our scones and tea, and enjoyed the afternoon. While the service we experienced was not very attentive, especially compared to the service we had at The Brown Hotel, I can still see why it ranks up there among the top tea places in London. Now, only 20 more tea establishments to visit to make sure we've visited all the Award of Excellence Winners for London.

The last two months have been hectic. Crazy, crazy hectic.

They have found me in Dallas, Beijing, Shanghai, Aberdeen, Dubai, Wales (twice), Copenhagen, the Scottish Highlands, and back to the US again. See what I mean? And while I feel so blessed to have experienced them all, I am so ready to be back in London for a bit, sleep in my own bed, wash my clothes, empty out my suitcase, and blog of course.

During those two months, I did have one weekend at home, and it was a weekend where the first visitors from family found there way to our flat in London!

My cousins and grandmother

It felt odd after being the tour guide for everyone in Istanbul, to be the one working, while Paul showed around our guests. But, luckily, I was able to spend the weekend with them, both family and tourist time.

One of the things I had wanted to try with our first set of family was the London Eye, and so we decided to try it on Friday night.  Despite suggestions from friends, we went with the standard ticket (no fast track) and were glad we did. We walked straight up at 8:00 pm on Friday night, no line, no fuss. Probably not the case in the middle of peak season, but we were happy with our luck!

After posing for a green screen photo, we boarded our pod with 3 couples. Again, probably more crowded in the summer, but with a smaller group, we were able to get great views as we moved around the pod.

As you start going around, you first get the best views to the East. We saw St. Paul's Cathedral as it lit up at night, with the Shard peeking out at us as well.


You also get great river and bridge views. From the Somerset House, to Southbank, it is a beautiful, unobstructed view. That is until you start to get to the top. This is the point where I decided it may be best to sit on the bench in dead center and tried to forget how high above the city we were.

A glimpse of our pods

Finally, we crossed over the top with views to the West. These are the views everyone wants - you're right across from Parliament and Big Ben.


Apparently, day time is the most popular to go. While I guess it makes sense, as people are out and about, I always love seeing tourist spots at night. There is something about seeing them all lit up that makes them seem more magical. As we came around the top, Parliament was lit up, and shortly after, Big Ben turned green in greeting to us.


And 45 minutes after we started, we found ourselves (thankfully), back on solid ground. We stopped at All Bar One right next to the entrance for a quick celebratory nightcap, the perfect ending to our evening.