A Headful of Travel Memories

First holiday memory?
Holidays in Scarborough during the late 70's and early 80's. A self-catering flat in the North Bay, rowing boats by day and brightly coloured lights at dusk at Peasholm Park. The little train at Scalby Mills. Swimming at the open-air baths. The chair-lift. Waffles from the waffle shop. Being taken to see Star Wars at The Futurist with my Dad in 1977. My mother setting fire to the chops and the fire brigade being called out and the flat smelling and tasting of smoke for the remainder of the holiday.

Favourite place in the British Isles?
The Highlands of Scotland. I love their drama and mystery and their sheer jaw-dropping beauty.

Best holiday?
My first holiday without my parents is one I remember fondly. Two weeks with a couple of friends in a tent on a campsite near St Tropez, in the South of France.

Cuba was also a country that fascinated me. It was hard-work at times, but the people, the sights, the music, the politics and all the curious contradictions in between is something that's stayed with me in the years since my visit.

But probably my best holiday was the three month trip I took in 2012.

What have you learnt from your travels?
People's need to communicate and connect with other people is universal. The world is not as big as we might think. There is beauty and wonder in the most unlikely places. And there appears to be an Irish pub in practically every country in the world!

Ideal travelling companion?
Someone practically minded, organised and easy-going, who wouldn’t be offended if I wanted to go off on my own for a few hours. Someone who finds wonder in the smallest of things and is content to just 'be'.

Beach bum, culture vulture or adrenalin junkie?
Culture vulture, without a doubt. I love the sights, smells and tastes of a new place as well as the history, architecture, art galleries and museums. Much more interesting to me than lying on a beach or flinging myself off something big and scary.

Greatest travel luxury?
Apart from unlimited time and resources to be able to travel, my greatest luxury would be an iPad Mini. I travelled round SE Asia, Australia and New Zealand planning and booking everything with my iPhone. My eyesight isn’t what it was, so a bigger screen would come in handy.

Holiday reading?
I took Anna Karenina on my three month trip. It took me practically the entire trip to finish it. Otherwise, something with a bit of intrigue, a thriller or a mystery perhaps.

Where has seduced you?
Cambodia and Laos utterly utterly seduced me when I went there in 2012. Cambodia, despite its horrific history, has a dignity and grace that is reflected in the gentle smiles and kindly disposition of her people. And Laos is just a breathtaking country with beautiful people.

Better to travel or to arrive?
I enjoy both. I enjoy the anticipation of the journey and the planning leading up to it, but I also enjoy arriving and being able to finally explore your destination.

Best hotel?
Hotel Icon, Kowloon, Hong Kong. An oasis of style and calm at the end of a three month trip, with stunning views over Victoria Harbour.

Best meal abroad?
A traditional Vietnamese 'clay pot' meal I had in Nha Trang, Vietnam was beyond description, but the meal I had in Siem Reap, Cambodia, a simple vegetarian 'Khmer' potato curry, was outstanding.

Favourite city?

Dublin. My spiritual home. I also like New York.

Where next?
Iceland and South America.

Dining In The Dark

This evening I had the good fortune to be invited to a 'Dining In The Dark' dinner. The concept is simple, guests wear blindfolds, with one person on the table remaining sighted to avoid any catastrophes. In the case of this dinner, it was to raise awareness and fundraise for a local visual impairment charity, their co-ordinator being in attendance.

From the minute the blindfold goes on your senses immediately become distorted. Eating in a dining hall of some seventy or so people, the first thing you notice is the wall of sound that distorts the sound of everyone speaking around you.  The first feeling I encountered was one of isolation. You have to concentrate much more to hear what other people are saying and being able to distinguish between different voices and from which direction their voices are coming.

At one point I sat in silence and listened. I even closed my eyes behind the blindfold. In a sea of noise, it was quite a calming experience. It feels rather like being in a cocoon or tunnel of some kind. When you do speak, you find yourself overcompensating by speaking louder and exaggerating your voice. It's much more difficult to engage with someone sitting next to you if you can't see them. It's true that so much of our communication is reliant on visual tics and cues we take from people's eyes and facial expressions.

And then there is the eating itself! The first course was soup, served rather helpfully in a cup, rather than a bowl. I should start by saying that all of the food was completely delicious and part of the enjoyment of the occasion was trying to work out what we were eating with each course, because we didn't know beforehand. You need to be rather trusting of your chef and waiting staff!

The chef, Marc, had carefully crafted the menu with an interesting combination of flavours, textures and ingredients. The most revealing aspect of eating this way, is the realisation that you really do eat with your eyes. By being able to see, for example, that there is a carrot on your plate, your brain recognises that it's a carrot and by the time the food reaches your mouth you're already anticipating what it will taste like. When you don't know what you're eating you're completely reliant on your tastebuds to tell you. And the experiment proved to me how bad my tastebuds actually are! I failed to guess on each course what many of the ingredients were!  A major talking point for us all during each course was to work out what we were eating.
"Ooh, is that sweet potato?" someone asked. "I think there are onions in this somewhere" someone else said. The textures were confusing. At one point I thought I was eating shredded beef or pork only to realise when I was half way through eating the dish that I was actually eating fish.

Of all the courses, the main course was probably the most difficult to eat as it required you to use a knife and fork without necessarily knowing if you were aiming them in the right direction. Many of us brought the forks to our mouths after several seconds of trying to attach food to them only to discover that we'd missed our target on the plate and were eating air! Someone at the table mentioned  they'd read people eat less if they can't see what they're eating because they stop eating when they're full rather than when the plate is empty.  Or because they give up trying to snag anything! Some of us resorted to eating with our fingers, a tried and tested method of ensuring we at least got something to eat and didn't go home hungry!

All in all it was a fantastic experience. It brings home to you how much we rely on and take for granted all of our senses when we're in a dining situation, and how incredibly difficult it must be for anyone who has a visual impairment.  We only experienced it for a few hours but for our guest and other visually impaired people that is their experience every day.

If you ever get the opportunity to take part in a 'dining in the dark' supper, I really would recommend you try it.

Incidentally, this was our menu:

Cream of courgette and tarragon soup

with red and green pepper bruschetta

Sea salted cod wrapped in Parma ham

with pea puree and sweet tomato sauce

Oven roasted red pepper (v)

filled with sun-dried tomato and butter bean ragout

Twice cooked chunky chips

Baby leek and baby carrot

Brandy snap basket

filled with popcorn ice cream and dark chocolate ganache

topped with puffed rice and cappuccino tuille