Walks

I have said it before and I will say it again, I am so lucky to be able to travel.

Barcelona has been on my list of places to visit for a long time and this past weekend I was able to tick it off that list. After spending four days and nights there I now have an idea about what all the fuss is about. When I say fuss, what I mean is everyone I had previously spoken to about Barcelona and possibly visiting, if they had, they did not have one bad word or any words of warning about going.

La Sagrada Familia is the must see when you visit this city. The jewel in the crown of Antoni Gaudi’s designs and creations, 19^th March 1882 construction of the masterpiece began, and they still have not finished! They have just announced another potential completion date for 2026, with the provision that work on sculptures, decorative designs and a controversial staircase is expected to continue until 2034. Astonishing.

To be honest when I first glanced upon its towers, many depictions and artwork, I was taken aback. There is a lot to take in, a lot! However, the more I looked at it, in detail, up close and with a singular eye, it grew on me. Gaudi has a very particular style and the thing about that is that it isn’t for everyone. It is however unique, and you know it is Gaudi. He was not afraid to put his heart out there, he knew what made him tick, his influences and inspiration, and he drew upon that without any apologies. That is what I love about his work.

While in Barcelona you can not escape Gaudi, he is talked about in every district, every part of Barcelona feels his influence. Which is sad when you find out he died being run over by a tram. He was that dishevelled and had no ID on him when the accident happened that no one recognised him. He wasn’t given the best of medical care, them thinking he was a beggar on the street. It was only a notable surgeon who was also working in La Sagrada Familia who realised who he was and by that time it was too late.

Barcelona isn’t just about Gaudi, though his legacy is undeniably omnipresent. It’s a city pulsating with life, where every corner holds a story, every street a new adventure. From the bustling markets of La Boqueria, where the aroma of fresh produce mingles with the chatter of locals and tourists alike, to the serene shores of Barceloneta Beach, where the Mediterranean whispers tales of ancient seafarers and modern-day dreamers, there’s something for everyone here.

The rich tapestry of Catalan culture, with its vibrant festivals, mouthwatering cuisine, and passionate people, leaves an indelible mark on all who visit. Whether you’re sipping sangria in a sun-dappled plaza or marvelling at the whimsical wonders of Park Güell, Barcelona enchants and captivates at every turn.

In the midst of this vibrant tapestry, the spirit of Antoni Gaudi shines brightly. His unapologetic embrace of his unique vision serves as a beacon, reminding us not to be ashamed of who we are and to chase our dreams and desires with unwavering passion. Just as Gaudi fearlessly poured his heart into his creations, so too can we strive to live authentically and boldly pursue our aspirations.

As I bid farewell to this enchanting city, I carry with me not just memories of its architectural wonders, but the warmth of its people and the spirit of its streets. It’s a city that beckons you to explore, to wander, to lose yourself in its labyrinth of alleys and avenues.

And as I board my flight back home, I can’t help but feel grateful for the opportunity to experience such beauty and wonder.

Until next time, Barcelona.

As I sit here in LA, surrounded by the glitz and glamour of the Oscars weekend, I can’t help but feel a whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me.

You see, I’m an actor. But not the kind you see strutting down the red carpet, clutching golden statues and grinning for the cameras. Nope, I’m more of the behind-the-scenes kind, juggling my time between serving people on planes with British Airways and chasing my acting dreams ever other second.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I love what I do. But every year, as I catch snippets of the Oscars ceremony on TV, a part of me can’t help but wonder – what if? What if I were up there, basking in the spotlight, soaking up the applause of my peers? What if I were one of those actors who’ve made it big, effortlessly snagging roles without having to audition?

It’s a tantalizing thought, isn’t it? To be recognized, celebrated, adored. But let’s face it – it’s also a long shot. And as I sit here, watching from the sidelines, I can’t help but grapple with the harsh reality that maybe, just maybe, that level of success might never be within my reach.

But here’s the thing – acknowledging the odds doesn’t mean giving up. It doesn’t mean I’m throwing in the towel and settling for mediocrity. Instead, it’s about finding that delicate balance between ambition and reality. It’s about dreaming big while staying grounded, chasing after the stars while keeping my feet firmly planted on the ground.

Sure, I’ll admit it – there are moments when the doubts creep in. Moments when I wonder if I’m chasing after an impossible dream, if I’m fooling myself into believing that one day, I’ll walk away with my own little golden statuette. But then I remember – success isn’t just about the destination; it’s about the journey.

And what a journey it’s been. From the halls of The Bristol Old Vic Theatre School to the friendly skies of British Airways, my path has been anything but conventional. I’ve faced rejection, I’ve weathered the storms of uncertainty, and I’ve questioned my own worth more times than I can count.

But through it all, I’ve also discovered something invaluable – resilience.

Because here’s the truth – success isn’t measured by the number of awards on your shelf or the digits in your bank account. It’s measured by the fire in your soul, the passion in your heart, and the unwavering belief that no matter how tough the road may get, you’ll keep on pushing forward.

So yes, maybe I’ll never win an Oscar. Maybe I’ll never walk down that hallowed red carpet, my name whispered in hushed tones of admiration. But you know what? That’s okay. Because as long as I keep dreaming, keep striving, and keep telling stories – whether it’s on stage, on screen, or at 36,000 feet – then I’ve already won.

Here’s to chasing dreams, embracing doubts, and living a life worthy of the silver screen.

As I stroll along the pebbled shores of Brighton, memories of my upbringing in the bustling seaside town of Blackpool flood my mind. Each step carries me further into a journey of contrasts—from the sandy beaches of my youth to the pebbled embrace of my present. Join me as we explore the dynamic interplay between these two iconic destinations, weaving a narrative that reflects the passage of time and the evolution of experience.

In comparing Blackpool and Brighton, one cannot help but draw parallels to two distinct rides at a carnival. Blackpool, with its three monumental piers and expansive sandy beaches, resembles a thrilling roller coaster ride at the Pleasure Beach. It’s a whirlwind of excitement and nostalgia, where every twist and turn evokes memories of carefree days spent amidst the hustle and bustle of seaside life.

In contrast, Brighton’s pebble beach and solitary pier conjure the charm of a gentle carousel ride by the sea. It’s a slower pace, a quieter rhythm that invites reflection and introspection. Here, amidst the soothing sounds of crashing waves and seagulls’ cries, I find solace in the simplicity of the moment, embracing the serenity that comes with maturity and experience.

Having spent my formative years in Blackpool, I approach Brighton with a sense of reverence for the memories that shape me and a curiosity for the new experiences that await. As a mature adult, I find myself drawn to the quieter corners of the city—the hidden cafes, the tranquil open spaces, the winding lanes filled with history and charm.

Here, amidst the vibrant tapestry of Brighton’s cultural scene, I discover a newfound appreciation for the beauty of aging gracefully. Like the weathered facades of the city’s historic buildings, I embrace the lines etched upon my own face as a testament to a life well-lived, filled with laughter, love, and the occasional stumble along the way.

In the juxtaposition of Blackpool and Brighton, I find a reflection of my own journey—a tale of contrast, growth, and the ever-present pull of nostalgia. As I continue to explore the winding paths of my adopted home, I carry with me the lessons learned amidst the vibrant chaos of Blackpool and the tranquil beauty of Brighton, weaving them into the fabric of my own narrative.

Join me on the story pilgrim podcast as we navigate the twists and turns of life’s carnival, embracing the contrast and celebrating the richness of experience that comes with each new adventure.

It feels a little unfamiliar, strange but nonchalantly done to write 2024. A new year with new experiences, different perspectives and yet the same bills to pay, the same desires and concerns.

All of this and more is what I felt being back in Hong Kong. I was here over 30 years ago, and I cannot remember much about me being there, as I look hard, deep into my memories no visual images are be recalled, none of my senses are awakened to a smell, sound, sight remembered.

The flight out was a long, hard one, 12 hours and 9 minutes, nothing compared to the 14 hours and 31 minutes I did coming back, that should be left for another storytelling opportunity.

The first thing that struck me as I was walking through the bustling Hong Kong Airport was how clean it was, spotless. This would remain an observation the entire stay. Along those lines, I did not see one homeless person as I walked around both Kowloon and Hong Kong Island. Something that is unmissable in the UK and USA. Are the Chinese better at hiding it or is it simply not there? I don’t know the answer to that. Second observation, much the same as in India, I am in the minority now, I stand out, I am also different and am highly aware of that. In some ways it makes me feel good, in many other ways I feel vulnerable, detached, exposed.

Both evenings I stayed in Kowloon, walking about the beautiful promenade, the Avenue of Stars, taking in the stunning, neon, artificially-lit Hong Kong Island skyline. Iconic is the only word, a scene like this you could look at many times and find something new to look at every time. There were hundreds of people out, taking photos, talking, listening to music, just enjoying the moment. No rush, the occasional jogger streaming past, trying to make their life a little better.

During day one I headed over to Hong Kong Island and up Victoria Peak. I took the MTR underground train from Tsim Sha Tsui station, one stop to Admiralty. Walked to the Peak Tram and took that to the Peak.

From the top of Victoria Peak, you are treated to a spectacular view of Victoria Harbour with Hong Kong Island on one side and Kowloon on the mainland. I walked about Lugard Road, a pleasing little road that circumvents the Peak. If you ever make it to Hong Kong, you HAVE to do this little walk, it is only 3.5 kilometres, and the views are superb. Not only are you treated to the views, you are also educated as you go with fabulous information boards that describe the geology, fauna and wildlife that you are encountering.

At one point I came across Pinewood Battery, an old army outpost from the 1930’s. As I stood reading information regarding where I was, I became aware of something shifting through the earth a few feet away from me. I looked up to see a wild hog, snuffling, searching for food. It was completely oblivious to me, as it was of the black Labrador that a local lady was walking. Of course, the Lab saw the hog and made a beeline for it. Thus ensued a humorous few minutes of lady shouting after dog, resulting in her proclaiming “I’m going to the toilet, I am going to the toilet”, which actually worked, and the dog returned!

My time in Hong Kong was refreshing, enchanting, and captivating. I felt at home, seeing signs, names of brands, things to eat that were extremely familiar to me. But at the same time, I felt completely deficient in being able to communicate, blend in, and relax. I enjoy being out of my comfort zone and feel Hong Kong is a place that if I had the time could come to love. Give it a try, you won’t regret it.

As you know I am fortunate to be able to travel often. Through my current work, here I am in Phoenix, Arizona, for Christmas 2023. How lucky am I? Yes, it pulls me away from family and friends, but it gives me the opportunity to make new friends and discover new places.

Yesterday, Christmas Eve, I walked up Piestewa Peak for sunrise. I have done this walk before, again for sunrise. Piestewa Peak is the second highest mountain in the Phoenix Mountain range at 796 meters. Named after Lori Piestewa, the first female native American to be killed in action, March 23, 2003, she was only 23 and later awarded the Purple Heart. I think that this is an extremely fitting name for this mountain, it stands tall, it is tough to climb but when you get to the top the warmth and connection to the earth is clear, simple and majestic.

At the top I was treated to a performance by Ken Koshio, a Japanese drum teacher who has walked this Peak every day for the past four years. He is up there for every sunrise, and he drums and plays the flute in honour to the sun, earth, and sky. It is a ritual that is turned into a performance as his reputation has grown. This morning was very special, as the sun came up Ken played Amazing Grace, the sun did not disappoint, it painted the sky with orange, red, yellows that made my heart sour and tears well from deep inside. How lucky am I?

After such a glorious start to the day I headed up to Sedona. I have been told a lot about this area and how it is a must-visit place and yes, it most certainly is. Magnificent, the rock, red, white, clay all combination of these colours. I was heading for Devil’s Bridge but took a little side trail. I am so glad I did, I was treated to all kinds of cactus, trees with white berries, trees with silver bark, peeling away to reveal yellow, red, white, all sorts of colours on display. I was in awe, and I was also soothed. Mother Nature confirming to me that, don’t worry, I’m in control, if you humans mess it up, I will bring it back, no matter what it takes.

The walk to Devils Bridge was a pleasant one, the Bridge was full of people waiting to have a picture on top of it. It spans a small section on the side of the mountain, I thought it was crossing a valley, but it doesn’t, a little underwhelming but I was glad I took the time to see it.

The drive back to Phoenix was assisted by a much-deserved and earned Baskin Robins Cookies and Cream Milkshake. I was in Heaven, well Arizona, it felt close.

Happy Christmas everyone and here’s to 2024!

Onwards and Upwards.

Buen Camino.

This was my first time to Romania; I was very excited but at the same time nervous as I knew I did not have much time there. I wanted to do so much, however, I had to work so there was a limit on what I could do.

20^th December 2023 – Bucharest

I arrived late at night. The night’s sleep was not the best but I forced myself out of bed early so I would have enough time to see a little of a city that was completely new to me. I was staying on the outskirts of Bucharest; I was due to leave around 1pm so time was of the essence. I decided to stay close to the hotel.

A quick glimpse at Google maps and it told me there was a park with a large lake right across the road. I thought there would be no better way to get a feel for the city than a lovely stroll through the park.

I headed out and the first observation made is that the traffic signals take an awful long time to change! I was waiting to cross the road, the little green man to appear, and it took a while. Not knowing the traffic, I didn’t want to make a dash across a six-lane road, even when it looked like the way was clear.

I did make it safely into the park. The lake was covered with a thin layer of ice, thick enough for a flock of seagulls to stand on, but I am guessing that was the limit. I came across many large structures in the park, from the Hard Rock Café to a concert venue. I also found the Muzeul National al Satului “Dimitrie Gusti”, an ethnographic museum devoted to Romanian village life. It was fascinating, from peasant farms and houses to a rustic, wooden windmill.

With it being winter the park was very quiet, and all the kiosks and cafes were closed. At one point I came across an area that had rope bridges, tree houses and high wires tied between the trees. It looked a lot of fun.

I was unaware that Bucharest is known as Little Paris. This soon became apparent as I walked past the Arcul de Triumf, I don’t think I need to translate that do I? To make certain, here is a photo!

Bucharest is a relatively flat city, few high rises and those that can be found seem to be no more that 10 stories high. I had a delightful time, a serene time walking around the small part I saw. A mix of old state-built housing to modern glass fronted buildings. The city gave me an open invite to come back, an invite that was genuine and honest.

21^st December 2023 – Budapest

Again, I arrived in Budapest at midnight, straight to bed as I wanted to be up early to make the most of another new city to me.

All I wanted to do while here was to take in as much of the atmosphere of the city that it had to offer. It was a little cold but not life threatening, mainly though it was dry. I began the day by walking along the east bank of the river Danube, it flows, solidly and gracefully through Budapest. I learnt that the city is made up of three cities, Obuda, Buda and Pest, officially merged in 1873 to create Budapest.

As I walked, I encountered a striking monument, The Shoes, to honour the Jews who were massacred by fascist Hungarian militia during the Second World War.

They were ordered to take off their shoes, as they were valuable and could be sold after, and were shot at the edge of the water so that their bodies fell into the river and were carried away. Wow, my heart sank, and my soul yearned for better times. 

A little further along and I came to the Parliament building, opened in 1902, it is stunning. Later that day I walked up to the Castle District and got an amazing view of this beautiful building.

Now people talk a lot about the Christmas Markets in Budapest, so I headed off next to St. Stephen’s Basilica. Third largest Church in Budapest and a World Heritage site, you can see why when you are there. The bells ring out every hour, listen in to our podcast and you will hear them, two bell towers with six bells altogether.

In front of the Basilica is a Christmas Market, wonderful, full or Christmas knickknacks, food, drink, clothing, ornaments.

I decided to have a massive sausage sandwich and to try a local cake, Chimney Cake. A sweet yeast dough that is rolled into a long rope and baked around a cylinder. They are coated in melted butter and sprinkled with cinnamon and sugar. It was fluffy in texture and tasted like sweet milky bread, I loved it!

Budapest is stunning, if you have not been, please add it to your list. The buildings are all well looked after, the streets are wide and clean. In Pest, the east of the river, there is a network of trams, running down the middle of the streets. Adding so much character and noise to the environment, I was in awe at how well designed this city is. 

I later walked across the Szechenyi Chain Bridge, opened in 1849, to Buda. Now west of the river I was in the Castle District. The National Gallery is here, imposing itself on the city as well as various stunning churches (St Matthais standing out), fortified walls, steps criss crossing the hill, old houses and new apartments. 

Bucharest gave me an open invitation to come back whenever I want, Budapest demanded I return and I return soon.

Rest or Pest? Both amazing, but this time round the Pest won!