Porto, October 2015

Elegantly straddling the meandering estuary of the River Douro, picture perfect Porto deserves to be known as more than just a haven for wine connoisseurs.

While Portugal’s second city is globally famous for the packing, transporting and exporting of port wine, the city also offers stunning views and locals have a refreshingly slow pace of life.

Despite having to get up in the dead of night (1:15am to be exact) to begin our journey from deepest darkest Cornwall, it’s easy to see why Porto is becoming one of Europe’s trendiest weekend getaways.

Less than a two hour flight from Bristol Airport and we were greeted by blue skies and balmy October temperatures. Porto Airport is connected to the city via the efficient and extensive Metro system, meaning that you are in the thick of it within an hour and all for less than three euros.

Defying our distinct lack of sleep, we checked in at the centrally located Hotel Aliados which stands aside the vast avenue of the same name, chucked in our bags and immediately set about seeing what the city had to offer.

As always, we purchased a ticket from one of the city’s three open top bus tours and were ferried around for the afternoon, quickly getting our bearings and establishing points of interest to which we wished to return.

Port caves and factories aside, Porto’s showpiece is undoubtedly the spectacular views from the numerous giant bridges connecting both sides of the River Douro.

The river is lined on the one side with industry related to port production and on the other, unstable but quaint looking terracotta roofs that stack up and back up towards the city centre and its designer shops.

It’s well worth an afternoon wondering the banks of the Douro and the Ribeira district taking in the charming architecture and sampling some of cuisine at the many family-run restaurants.

In fact, the city is a fantastic place to keep active, offering long walks to sandy beaches and plenty of parks, botanical gardens and panoramic viewing spots to marvel at its splendour.

Porto also has a trendy bar scene, but one that rarely gets going until late, by which time we were often in bed due to our hectic daytime sightseeing schedule.

Although I wasn’t taken by the signature dish the franceschina (meats and bread with melted cheese spoilt by a strange beer sauce), we did manage to locate a small and cheap kitchen serving up the finest chicken and chips that have ever graced my pallet, a dish that trumped the global dining phenomenon Nando’s.

Also worth a mention is the Café Majestic, the spot JK Rowling penned her Harry Potter novels whilst living in the city, a hive of activity that offers splendid interior design and tasty milkshakes.

On the outskirts of the city is the relatively new sporting arena the Estadio Dragao, the home of Portuguese football powerhouse FC Porto built for Euro 2004.

Although neither FC Porto nor the city’s other team Boavista were at home, we managed to look around both stadiums and were taken aback by the grandeur of the Dragao and its magnificent museum which proudly shows off a glittering history complete with hatful’s of league titles and two Champions League winners trophies.

So within a short, inexpensive Easyjet guided hop and easily explorable by foot in just a few days, I’d be surprised if more people don’t start lining the banks of the River Douro to marvel at Porto’s breathtaking natural beauty and soak in its port-fuelled charm.

Croatia and Slovenia, September 2015

WHILE the UNESCO heritage site of Dubrovnik may be the image that graces the covers of Croatian guide books, a trip to the northern peninsula of Istria offers a dream break for sightseers, foodies, wine tasters and outdoor enthusiasts.

I picked Istria as our destination for a September getaway solely because the flight times suited our needs - what a successful gamble it proved to be.

After the long and laborious journey to Stansted via a Plymouth Argyle away defeat in Stevenage, we struggled our way through the airport’s frankly shockingly inept passport and security control to finally board our flight.

Based a five minute bus ride outside the working port of Pula, our hotel (Splendid Resort) though basic, offered stunning views of the Adriatic, good transport links and spacious rooms.

Temperatures around the mid-20s kept us sunned throughout the week as we made our way around the rugged, spectacular peninsula.

Pula itself, though a busy dock, offers quaint cobbled streets, a constant buzz of activity and a glorious old Roman amphitheatre that once welcomed crowds of up to 40,000 people.

From Pula (where we ate well each evening) we daytripped to the Brijuni Islands, the former playground of Yugoslav leader Tito.

The islands were green and unspoilt, but the majority of tours do not let you off to explore them. Unfortunately I paid for a tour that didn’t stop so can only advise that others do their homework first.

After a hearty meal of pork chops and cabbage on board we disembarked at a beach packed with German holidaymakers.

Although the beach was unremarkable and pebbled (as the majority of Croatian beaches are), we took the short walk into the coastal town/village (it’s not very big) of Fazana.

Fazana is a picturesque harbour worthy of gracing any postcard, with a church spire towering over the coloured roofs that look out onto the rows and rows of boats.

The following day we made our way to the active fishing port of Rovinj, which for me, was one of the most stunning towns I’ve ever had the pleasure of visiting.

Fishermen in Rovinj still haul their catch in each morning from the harbour there after saying their prayers at Saint Euphemia's basilica, an ancient church that stands proudly over the town.

Rovinj is inevitably packed with restaurants and sightseers, but also with beautiful and charming buildings in equal measure which give the town a unique vibe. The town’s landscape cuts out into the Adriatic and the wooded area to the south contains great views and hidden beaches and is well worth a cycle around.

Other day trips included a trip to the cape of Premantura’s Kamenjak national park which is most scenic and offers fantastic watersport and cycling opportunities.

Around an hour’s drive away (I paid for a taxi as I’m too much of a wimp to hire a car overseas) is the Slovenian border.

Five minutes the other side of the passport control are the towns of Portoroz and Piran.

Portoroz mainly consists of expensive hotels and casinos to cater for the hordes of affluent Italian visitors, but Piran really is another jewel of the Istrian peninsula.

Again, a curious egg shaped piece of land that sticks out to sea, the streets are cobbled, compact and overflowing with character and little galleries and shops. Orange roofs illuminate the town’s skyline.

One of Slovenia’s few coastal resorts (Italy lays only a short drive the other side), Piran is well worth a trip for anyone staying in Istria. Although it might not represent a true snapshot of Slovenian life with the rest of the country lying inland, it isn’t hard to see why so many people take time to wander around its streets.

In a nutshell, Istria is laidback and an area of outstanding beauty with plentiful outdoor pursuits and culinary delights on offer.

A week flew by and left me with a desire to return to Croatia and hopefully explore some of the inland towns that I was unable to find time to visit.

The food is cheap and Istrian menu is predominantly a mixture of Italian cuisine and seafood. Although I wasn’t a fan of their speciality truffles, a special shout must go to one of the restaurants along Pula’s main drag that served me up possibly the best steak I’ve ever had complete with garlic butter. Unfortunately its name escapes me so you’ll have to go and search it out yourself.

Fazana, Croatia

Fazana, Croatia

Sunset, Verudela, Croatia

Rovinj, Croatia

Pula by night, Croatia

Rovinj, Croatia

Fazana, Croatia

Pula by night, Croatia

Piran, Slovenia

Piran, Slovenia

Piran, Slovenia

Pula, Croatia

Pula, Croatia

Dublin - City Guide

WITH friendly locals and a compact city centre it is easy to see just why Dublin has become such a desirable weekend break destination for Brits.

With bubbling enthusiasm my girlfriend and I rose at the crack of dawn for what was our first overseas trip together and we were soon in the car on our way to Exeter Airport.

Within hours we had landed, found our way out of the airport and boarded a bus in the general direction of the city centre, hastily disembarking when the driver announced the name of Parnell Square.

“One moment sir, I’ll just check for you,” said a friendly convenience store cashier as he halted a queue of people picking up their groceries to respond to my request for directions.

Despite the frustration of the local shoppers, he consulted Google Maps on his iPhone and sent me off up the road to the doorstep of our hotel.

As it was too early to check in, we threw our bags behind the front desk and immediately went out and purchased tickets for one of the city’s sightseeing tours.

I often hear people say that the buses are tourist gimmicks, but in my experience they allow for you to suss out the city and pinpoint landmarks that you wish to visit for a relatively reasonable price (19euros for 24 hours).

As the bus made its way down the shopping haven of O’Connell Street we passed a remarkably large pointed building, one which although I cannot remember how or why it was constructed, was an awe-inspiring sight.

On the other side of the street our pre-recorded tour guide pointed out the General Post Office, a building still scarred with bullet holes from the 1916 uprising.

The General Post Office is one of the many buildings in the city that feature prominently in tales of the Irish struggle under British rule prior to nation’s independence.

Geographically Dublin is compact, easy to navigate once you get a general idea of how it is laid out. The cityfolk welcome you to their city with open arms and are fiercely proud of where they are from.

We checked out the former houses of Oscar Wilde and Jonathan Swift before arriving at Kilmainham Gaol. For just four euros we were treated to a guided tour, the knowledgeable guide telling us all about how the prison housed a number of key figures in the various Irish uprising and at one point was bursting at the scenes holding five times its official capacity of prisoners, all forced to live in terrible conditions.

The gaol is one of a score of landmarks worth visiting by day. Along with the impressive and historic Trinity College and St Paul’s Cathedral, there are lists of attractions all within walking distance either side of the River Liffey that divides the city.

In terms of evening outings, much of the city’s vibrant nightlife is centred in the bustling Temple Bar area.

 

Temple Bar consists of a plethora of restaurants and bars where locals and tourists rub shoulders as they sink pints of Guinness to the tune of traditional Irish songs.

Despite a high presence of British stag and hen dos, the city has managed to retain its character and avoids that knife-edge night-time atmopshere associated with the likes of Benidorm, Malia and Magaluf.

In three days in the Irish capital I never once felt threatened and this despite inadvertently stumbling into a colourful protest by angry protestors against the water rates.

The restaurant and bar staff was all cheerful and welcoming, presumably because they get to live in such a beautiful and charismatic city.

Although  a pint will set you back around five euros, I found the city reasonably priced and wouldn’t hesitate to recommend it to couples, families or groups of lads looking for a good piss up.

Sunset Sihanoukville

The gateway to Amkar Thom

Fun in the sea, Sihanoukville

The boys enjoying pub street.

Vietnam/Cambodia 2015

Travelling around Thailand in September left me with a thirst for South East Asia that could only be quenched with further exploration of the region.

When a good friend of mine who serves in the armed forces and is currently based on a remote island in the Indian Ocean suggested we caught up, a whistle-stop tour of Vietnam and Cambodia seemed the obvious location.

With another friend in tow, I boarded a direct flight to Ho Chi Minh City, formerly known as Saigon, the largest city in the country.

Excessive drinking and foolish tattoos aside, I found Ho Chi Minh City to be a city with little obvious trace of a communist government, despite being one of the last remaining socialist states.

Ho Chi Minh reminded me of Bangkok in terms of its bustle, everywhere you look business booms with leading global names and locals competing to get you into their bars and restaurants.

I’m told that the main state control involves industries like fuel and I’m not fully aware and qualified to comment on how the state operates, but what was apparent was the pride and patriotism of the Vietnamese people.

Flags hang from doorways and all the locals seem proud of the fact that their people have seen off various military threats over the years.

Our sightseeing tours included a trip to the war museum which included exhibits from the conflict with America. Particularly distressing were the images of deformed people who are still suffering as a result of agent orange, a herbicide sprayed by American jets.

Also of poignant interest was a trip to the Chi Chi Tunnels, a network of underground tunnels that Vietcong troops used when the conflict raged.

We were shown the barbaric traps used to keep the American soldiers at bay and even went into the tunnels ourselves. They were incredibly narrow , dark and sweltering and it was hard to believe that 25,000 fighters would be down there during the airstrikes.

Light relief from learning about the complex conflict came in the form of a spectacular waterpark with little regard for health and safety and many drinks, which culminated in me committing the cardinal sin. Wandering off drunk alone and returning minus a wallet.

Fortunately my bank was efficient and fast in returning my money and so we proceeded into Cambodia.

Arriving in Phnom Penh we did wonder slightly what we had let ourselves in for.

The part of the city we arrived in looked more like deprived areas of India, with manic traffic and dirty looking people trading in makeshift shacks.

After a dining mix-up and a relatively early night we headed to the Killing Fields.

For those who aren’t aware, they are a series of sites across Cambodia where former leader Pol Pot executed those who didn’t fit his vision of a communist workers utopia when he seized power.

We wandered around the site examining the relics, guided by our tour headphones and to contemplate the barbaric atrocities that took place in the grounds was a harrowing experience, similar to a trip to a concentration camp I had undertaken many years earlier.

The site still featured bones of the victims who were often bludgeoned to death as bullets were considered too expensive.

After a night spent sampling the city’s nightlife and uncovering a far more glamorous area of the city, we headed for the beach paradise of Sihanoukville, or so we thought.

In a mad rush we boarded the bus that we thought was heading that way, only to twig part way into the journey that we were instead destined for Kampot.

After arriving in Kampot and finding a bed for the night, the quiet riverside town actually provided a nice night’s respite, as we took a cruise down a river to check out the beautiful fireflies who buzz around the trees on the water’s edge.

The next morning we double checked, and got on the correct bus bound for Sihanoukville.

Sihanoukville presented a mix of idyllic beaches and crazy nightlife.

The town provided us with little in the way of culture as we spent our days drinking on the white sand beach until sunset, before joining the other backpackers indulging in cheap booze and other questionable substances that we did not dare try.

With our bodies pushed to the limit we were somewhat glad to escape Sihanoukville and touch down in Siem Reap an old colonial town and home of the world famous heritage site Angkor Wat.

We felt it as our duty to rise at 4:30am to head to Angkor Wat to watch sunrise. Suspecting that we would be some of only few was a mistake, it seemed every visitor to Siem Reap made the trek and joins the scrum for the perfect photograph.

After inspecting other, arguably more impressive temples, we grabbed some rest before heading out for a night on the backpacker’s haven Pub Street and contemplating another looming hangover.

We then headed back to Ho Chi Minh City in preparation of our flight home.

Although I missed my girlfriend at home terribly, I feel lucky to have had the opportunity to visit two countries so rich in culture, butwith such a barbaric recent history.

My two travel companions were great fun and we didn’t conflict at all despite our fair share of mishaps.

Given more time we would have liked to have headed to north Vietnam and places such as the world famous Ha Long Bay, but I remain content that we squeezed in as much as our two weeks allowed.

With Cambodia, Vietnam and Thailand all conquered in parts, I think it is unlikely that I’ll travel to that part of the world again soon, however friendly locals, rich culture, low prices, hot weather and beautiful scenery will continue to attract visitors for years to come.

I am now back at my desk job and returning to my routine of working, studying for a promotion, sport and spending time with Lucy.

In September we will travel to Croatia for a week, another country that I have heard rave reviews about and look forward to visiting.

My thought on whether Ched Evans should be once again allowed to play professional football

As a Plymouth Argyle fan I could well be accused of displaying bias when it comes to my views on former prisoners picking up where they left off and returning to their former employment on release.

Back in 2008, our excellent goalkeeper Luke McCormick was sent to prison for causing death by dangerous driving and driving with excess alcohol.

McCormick was returning from former teammate David Norris’ wedding when he lost control of his vehicle and collided with a car killing two young boys.

McCormick was reacting to allegation that his girlfriend was having an affair and after having only a few hours of sleep, got in his car and headed north to confront her.

While what he did was inexcusable, he has since served his time and returned to the club he made his name at, via spells at Truro City and Oxford United.

Since returning, McCormick (who reportedly donates some of his salary to charity) has been an outstanding performer and spoken naturally of his regret.

It is clear that he didn’t go out meaning to kill anybody, but he committed a terrible error of judgement that he has to live with every day.

He has since served the sentence handed to him by the courts and I believe that there is no reason as to why he couldn’t resume his career, after all, the whole idea of prison is to rehabilitate offenders.

It’s undoubtedly tragic that these two children lost their lives, but ultimately the sentence has been served and McCormick has every right to return to work, as would a builder or postman.

Not condoning what happened but there’s also an element of bad luck involved. The majority of people that I know have operated a car when they shouldn’t have, but either injured themselves, crashed the car or made it home unscathed.

That said, drink driving is still inexcusable and is against the law for a reason.

Like thousands of others, I sit in the stands and applaud and sing the name of McCormick for his services to Plymouth Argyle Football Club. Watching his appreciation of the support, it is clear how much the second chance issued to him by the fans means to him.

This leads nicely onto the next subject, you guessed it, Ched Evans.

As I’m sure you all know, former Sheffield United and Wales striker Ched Evans was recently released from prison and has announced that he’s looking to get back into football.

Evans has since been linked with several clubs, and at the time of writing all of the clubs have since withdrawn their interest after angry backlashes and petitions from fans.

Personally, the Evans case strikes me as a little odd. He was convicted of raping a drunk girl after a night out, but quite why a good looking professional footballer would have to rape someone is beyond me.

Evans has always disputed the conviction and the fact the court heard she was too drunk to give consent was odd, but that said, they did find enough evidence to convict him and send him to prison.
Fellow footballer and Evans' good friend Clayton McDonald was also on trial but curiously acquitted despite McDonald taking the woman back to a hotel room and both men having sex with the woman, claiming it was consensual.

He is in the midst of an appeal which will go a long way as to proving if his name will be cleared (and awarded a handsome amount of damages) or if the mud will stick.

In the meantime, I believe that Evans has every right to continue his football career as ultimately, he has served the sentence given to him.

It might also be a lot easier for him as opposed to McCormick because as an outfield player he is free to roam the pitch, whereas McCormick stands in the goal with nowhere to run from the fans’ abuse, even if admittedly it has faded to sporadic incidents of late.

What did surprise me is that Evans’ now fiancé stuck by him, as even if he is eventually acquitted or rape, he is at least a cheat.

He has since vowed to clear his name and promised to carry out work in the community if he does get a new club.
It has also been commented that Evans hasn't said sorry, but if he is in the appeal process he clearly believes he is innocent and if true, he shouldn't have to be sorry.

For players and former inmates like Evans and McCormick, and the likes of Lee Hughes and Marlon King (someone who is undoubtedly a nasty piece of work), all they know is football.

If Evans fails to find a route back into football, it is unlikely he will have other qualification to fall back on as Manchester City took him on as a full-time professional straight from school.

If he earns a contract, he will pay his taxes like everyone else, if not it is likely that he will be living off ours.