As we pulled into the drive of our home for the night in the New Forest, we knew within seconds that we were going to love this place. Set in the little village of Brockenhurst, surrounded by woodland and wildlife all around, the white building of Cottage Lodge with its bright yellow door looked adorably cute.
We even had our own reserved parking sign that had me feeling like Beyonce. (Okay, so I wasn’t the only guest with my own little sign but it still made me feel pretty special anyway.)
We’ve stayed in a huge variety of accommodation during our travels around the world, from budget backpacker dorms in Australia to villas with our own private pool in Kerala, glamping while on safari in Zambia to cabins in the middle of the Amazon Rainforest, but there are only a select few places that I have found truly stunning and that I would go back to again and again.
Our stay at Riad Assakina in Marrakech definitely comes under this category and I’m already longing to go back even though we’ve only been home a few days.
The riad is in the perfect location in the Medina, just around the corner from the Bahia Palace and only a short walk to the souks and most of the city’s other sights. No matter how noisy and chaotic I had been told Marrakech’s Medina was, this is where we wanted to stay. It’s the heart and soul of the city and we always prefer to experience something traditional and atmospheric over something standard and modern.
Our recent flight to Marrakech was at the hideously early time of 5.45am and when you have to take into account driving to the airport, checking in and going through security, let alone the fact that I’m a totally bad traveller and leave packing till the very last minute, there would have been no point in even going to bed the night before.
So we decided to stay at Yotel, a traveller friendly hotel right in Gatwick airport’s south terminal. You cannot get any closer to check in, being literally 20 seconds from the check in desk and airport security, meaning we could get much more sleep and not start our trip all bleary-eyed and tired.
When we first visited Cornwall shortly after our wedding eight years ago, we stayed in the bustling town of Newquay, in a luxurious hotel up on the headland overlooking Fistral Beach and the blue sea. Maybe this shows how travel tastes change as you get older, but this time around we wanted to stay out of the centre for a more relaxing and peaceful weekend, so when I came across Hendra Paul Farm which is home to a group of four adorably cute cottages, I just couldn’t resist. The Wild Flower Cottage, the smallest of the four, was perfect for us with one bedroom suitable for a couple, out in the countryside surrounded by the rolling green fields yet only a short drive from the main towns and beaches of North Cornwall.
Driving down the narrow winding country lanes, passing trundling tractors, horses in the fields and little bunnies hopping across our path (that I totally wanted to jump out of the car and take home with me), we finally found our way to the farm and as soon as I spotted our home for the weekend I completely fell in love. I mean look how utterly adorable…!!
Staying at an airport hotel seems to have become my favourite way to start off a holiday, especially when we have to get up at a ridiculously early hour for our flight. Not only does it make the start of a trip so much less stressful but it also means we can technically start the trip a day early!
As soon as I came across Windfalls Boutique Hotel, a small luxury guest house just a short drive from Gatwick Airport, I knew this was where I wanted to stay the night before our trip to Gibraltar. Each of the five rooms looked like pure luxury decorated in calming colours with huge four poster beds. It looked like the perfect place to start off our relaxing break.
After a flight from London that was so quick I hardly had time for a power nap, we arrived in Dublin, somewhere we have lived so close to our whole lives but were only just getting around to visiting. Knowing we only had 48 hours in this small but fascinating city we headed straight out to the main strip of Temple Bar to see what all the fuss was about.
As it was late evening by the time we set out, crowds of people already lined the street, spilling out the doors of every pub and restaurant, drinking and chatting away, listening to the street music that was being played on each corner. For fear of being crushed in the stampede of whiskey induced tourists, we headed to Bad Bobs which was slightly less packed but still had a lively atmosphere. We just about managed to find a seat, ordered some drinks and a huge plate of spicy chicken wings, sang along to the entertaining live band and giggled at the drunken groups of friends (and a policeman who looked suspiciously like a stripper) enjoying the weekend.
Ever since I was a little girl, the start of a holiday has always been getting up at stupid o’clock in the middle of the night, the sky still pitch black outside and not a sound to be heard as we pack up the car to head off to the airport. When I book holidays now I will always pick the earliest morning flight there is, not only because it means we get more time away, but also because my older self still loves starting holidays in this way.
Mr Ayla, on the other hand, isn’t such a massive fan of the early starts. He moans and groans about only getting a nap for a night’s sleep and he hates having to wake himself up properly if he’s the one to drive to the airport while I relax in the passenger seat.
So ahead of our long flight to Cuba I thought it only fair that he get a good night’s sleep and we decided to try out an airport hotel for the first time.
Bath was the first stop on our little road trip; somewhere we had heard so many good things about but had never had the chance to visit despite only living a couple of hours away.
From the moment we arrived both of us loved the city, its streets lined with Georgian buildings, with pretty courtyards and squares where people sat outside pavement cafes listening to buskers playing music and watching the sun set over the city. Bath is only small so walking around was easy and gave us a chance to stumble across little side streets full of cute tea houses (which there are lots of) and quirky independent shops.
We arrived in the evening and, after checking into our gorgeous hotel, headed straight out to explore the city.
After an exhausting 2 and a half weeks travelling around the busy, noisy and dusty cities of North India, arriving at Marari Villas was like stepping into a whole different world. A small resort in the quiet beach village of Mararikulam in Kerala, Marari Villas was exactly the bit of luxury and relaxation we needed to end our trip with.
While I plan all our trips and Alex just goes along with whatever I say (who says there’s no such thing as the perfect man?!), I had told Alex absolutely nothing about this place. I knew how good it was and I wanted to see his face when he realised this.
One of my favourite parts of planning a trip is choosing the accommodation. It might only be somewhere to lay your head but in countries with a big culture shock or noisy streets, your room provides you with your own little bubble of privacy and calm and, for me at least, it’s somewhere I can retreat to and relax at the end of a long and tiring day of exploring, so the accommodation is an important part of travel for me.
Mama Ayla's Adventures 