A town divided

When we told people that we were planning to visit Alice Springs, we got some interesting reactions from people who'd already been there. In fact, 'interesting' was probably the most common adjective used, and it clearly wasn't meant in a positive way. We managed to figure out that the 'interesting' mostly involved the local indigenous people, but not much more than that. We therefore weren't really sure what to expect, but we visited with an open mind nonetheless. We didn't spend a lot of time in Alice, as it was just a stopover for our trip to Uluru, but overall we liked it. It's not too big, although it is fairly sprawling. It has a nice little town centre, with lots of shops selling art and other interesting bits. We ate some of the nicest food that we've eaten during the whole Australia trip in Alice Springs. Oh, and they even had free WiFi in the town centre! But I can understand why people had negative reactions; at no time did I ever feel unsafe, but I did sometimes feel a little uncomfortable. And this discomfort was related to the local Aboriginals - not to the people themselves, but to the stark sense of separation that can be seen in the town. Having now visited a few cities in Australia, I honestly can't remember seeing any Aboriginal people in Sydney, Melbourne or Perth. That said, the main cities are multicultural melting pots, where Asian people now outnumber Caucasians, and you'd be hard pushed to register anyone's ethnicity or background. But in Queensland, we saw lots of indigenous people. You wouldn't particularly notice unless you were specifically looking (which I was, after Alice), as they are, as you'd rightly expect, integrated along with everyone else. Not so in Alice Springs. There, the segregation is stark and shocking. We couldn't fail to notice the Aboriginals, because they were always grouped together, and were never with anyone of a different ethnicity. They often took up whole areas of parkland, where there would be maybe 20 indigenous people all sitting together. As outsiders to the area, we felt uncomfortable with the situation - was the segregation by choice or not? Do the Aboriginal people prefer to stick together or are they shunned by the rest of the town? Or do they, in fact, shun the rest of the town? We felt like it would be an intrusion to go and sit in the same areas - but was this in our heads or not? Would we have been made to feel unwelcome or even asked to leave? Or would they have been pleased not to be ignored? Or would they (most likely) not have given two hoots what we did or where we went?! Coming from a country where integration is key and we are taught that race and colour are irrelevant (as is the case elsewhere in Australia), we found the segregation frankly disturbing. Anyone who knows any history will know how the white men basically stole Australia from the Aborigines a couple of hundred years ago. And anyone who watched the recent John Bishop's Australia will also know that some of the atrocities that happened to the Aboriginal people were frighteningly recent. Yet what we couldn't figure out was whether these atrocities are continuing in Alice Springs, through the segregation, or whether this segregation is actually the Aboriginal people maintaining their right not to mix and conform to the 'white' way of life. Similarly, it was impossible not to notice from their dress that poverty is an issue for the indigenous people. But, again, is this a terrible situation where they are discriminated against when it comes to jobs and therefore struggle financially? Or is it a lifestyle choice, where money is largely irrelevant to the Aboriginal way of life? In the other areas of Australia that we visited, the Aboriginal people seem to be very much integrated and living a 'Western' life. But perhaps this is actually the sadder situation, where their culture has been forgotten, or at least inhibited? I very much hope that the segregation in Alice is down to the choice of the local Aboriginals to retain their culture and way of life. And, if that's the case, then it's well worth the discomfort of a few British tourists!

A step up in the world

I first got the holiday bug aged sixteen, when I went with my best friend to stay with her sister on the Greek island of Mykonos for three weeks. It was the first time I'd been abroad, first time on a plane and, unsurprisingly, the first time I'd been away without an 'adult'. It obviously sparked something, because the next year I went to Amsterdam, Tenerife and twice to Paris (those are the ones I remember). I think this set a precedent, because I've gone on holiday at least four or five times a year ever since - gradually to more 'luxurious' destinations and then, soon after having the kids, on cheaper options. The 'holidays' vary wildly in terms of destination, duration and accommodation - from a night away for a wedding or a five-day city break to a fortnight on a Spanish beach or five weeks travelling round Australia. The point is, by my estimation, I've gone on at least 100 holidays since my childhood. And on all those holidays, prior to this year, have I ever been upgraded? The answer, as far as I can remember, is a big fat no! Of course, some of those holidays - camping, staying with friends - wouldn't have given me the option to upgrade. And, (very) occasionally, we've paid for the upgrade ourselves. But the other 80+ holidays (I'm guessing wildly at numbers here)? Not a hope! I suppose the closest we've ever come was the year we got married (not our honeymoon, I hasten to add, when we didn't even get so much as a bottle of wine for being newlyweds!) - we booked a week in Crete and, a week or so before we were due to go, we got a letter saying that our hotel would be closed due to lack of demand, so they had moved us to another hotel. The new hotel had an extra star compared to the original so, technically, it was an upgrade. But it wasn't the hotel we booked, they obviously didn't have any choice in the matter, and it might not actually have been any nicer - therefore it doesn't count. 

Anyway, back to this year. It started with Butlins. There are three basic standards of apartment - bronze, silver and gold. We booked silver, as is our usual plan of action - not wanting the most basic option but not being willing to splash out on the luxuries - in this case, towels, a dishwasher, a DVD player, housekeeping and priority parking and check-in. Oh, and slightly posher decor, apparently. We arrived at the check-in counter to be told we'd been randomly selected for an upgrade to a gold apartment. Woohoo! Actually, it wasn't quite as good as it sounded - we'd already missed out on the priority parking and check-in for a start. The DVD player wasn't much use, as we hadn't brought any DVDs. The dishwasher would have been lovely, but we ate out every night, and there wasn't much point using it for just breakfast bowls. We took advantage of the housekeeping just once - they came so early, while we were still getting up, that we told them not to worry. We did use the towels (and complimentary toiletries!) - but it would have been useful to know we'd have them ahead of packing our own! Anyway, whatever - we had an upgrade and I was chuffed. 

Roll on a couple of weeks to a girlie break at Champneys. We arrived to be told we'd been upgraded to a superior (or deluxe or executive or whatever the word was) room. I'm not entirely sure what this gave us that you couldn't get in a standard room. We decided it was probably the ground floor location, which gave us our own little terrace with comfy chairs overlooking the weir. I'd known in advance (from trusty Trip Advisor) that the building was undergoing renovations, as people were moaning about the noise. Personally, I was grateful for the building work - we didn't hear any noise but did get an upgrade out of it!

Move on less than two months to our current adventure. At the Cosmopolitan Hotel in Hong Kong, we were told on arrival that we had been upgraded to a grand deluxe room, which, we were told, was bigger than our previous room. Lee's first comment as we walked in was 'How small was the original room?!' The grand deluxe room was not particularly grand in terms of size. However, Hong Kong rooms are notoriously small, and I'd consistently read reviews on Trip Advisor moaning about the size of the rooms in our hotel. Our grand deluxe room was a perfectly reasonable size, which is pretty big in Hong Kong terms. Plus it was kind of deluxe - it had clearly been newly renovated, and everything looked clean, new and luxurious. And an upgrade was a very good start to our holiday! 

The good luck carried on at our next stop. Our first accommodation in Australia was the Seashells in Scarborough, where we had booked a (superior!) two-bedroom apartment. We had to phone the day before, to confirm our arrival, where we were told we'd been upgraded to a three-bed Sandcastles Apartment. In Australia, we soon found that it was the opposite to Hong Kong - due to the abundance of space here, all the hotels and apartments are very spacious. So, as Brits, we were pretty excited when we arrived in our apartment. It wasn't brand spanking new, but it did have good facilities. More importantly, it was huge - bigger than most family houses in the UK. The kids had a bedroom each, which meant they both had a good night's sleep. They also had their own bathroom, as we had an en-suite. The lounge, kitchen and balcony were also very large (not to mention our jacuzzi corner bath). I don't know whether the three-bed apartment was also officially 'superior' - but the space alone was enough to impress us. 

Sadly, the upgrade luck hasn't continued since. To be fair, it would have been difficult - there was only one kind of apartment at the Ayer's Rock Resort, and we'd already booked deluxe rooms in Alice Springs. I'm still trying to get my head around how and why it's happened four times in two months, when it hadn't happened in over 20 years previously. I'm also desperately hoping that, just once, it will happen on a plane. Although I don't want to think about the other passengers' faces if we were to sit our kids down in business class...

Hong Kong heaven

Some random observations and tips for Hong Kong...

Transport

Transport was amazingly straightforward, mainly down to the wonderful Octopus card. This is much like an Oyster card (for UK readers), but with added benefits. We bought ours at an MTR station - adult cards cost HK$150 and children's cards cost $70. The price includes a $50 returnable deposit (although I think a small bit of this is forfeited if you return it within 3 months), and the rest counts towards your travel. You can then top this up at little machines in the MTR stations. Given that the child fares seemed to be half the price of the adult fares, I'm not sure why they only get $20 to spend when adults have $100 - it meant we had to top up the children's cards, even though the adult cards still had plenty of credit. Once you have your Octopus card, travel is really easy. On the MTR (the underground system), you simply swipe the cards at the beginning and end of the journey. On the bus, you just swipe it as you get on - there seems to be one price for a route rather than a destination. You can also use the card on the Star Ferry, the trams (including the Peak Tram) and to buy various non-transport-related things (McDonalds and the 7-11s both take them as payment, for example). The only downside of the Octopus card is that you need to use cash to top it up. Public transport is very cheap - other than the Peak Tram, the most expensive journey was around £1 (to Ocean Park), and the average MTR journey cost 20-40p! We also found the transport system remarkably easy to navigate - everything was signposted, and we had no trouble getting wherever we needed to go.

Weather 

I was warned that it would be humid, but I don't think I really understood the meaning of the word until I went to Hong Kong. Ten metres from the hotel doors and I was wanting to go back for my inhaler. The temperature is hot, but I've been in hotter places; it really is the humidity that gets you. The air is oppressive, and all my plans for hikes went out of the window - how anybody exercises in HK, I don't know. The sweat was soon running down my back and dripping off my face just from walking - I would seriously recommend taking a small towel around with you, just to wipe yourself off! This could also come in handy for the other weather extreme we experienced - rain. The forecast said 'occasional showers' - what it failed to mention was that these showers were downright torrential.  When the rain first started, it was quite pleasant in the heat - thirty seconds later and, if you weren't standing in the right place, you were completely drenched. One of the advantages of Hong Kong is that the buildings are all so tall that it is relatively easy to walk along under their shelter and stay dry. Obviously, if you're in the centre, it's easy to pop into a shop or mall to keep dry, and there are plenty of undercover walkways too. That said, we saw an awful lot of Chinese people carrying umbrellas, which doubled as parasols when the rain stopped - something else I'd recommend to take around with you. One more thing I'd recommend is a light cardi or jacket for when you go inside the air-conditioned shops and restaurants, as they get really cold. Oh, and an inhaler.

Scaffolding

It's made of bamboo. There is bamboo scaffolding hundreds of feet up skyscrapers. It doesn't look safe.

Prices

Once you've got your head around the currency (HK$100 is around £8), you have to get your head around the weird differences in price. Clothes and 'stuff' in general, as far as I could see, tended to be the same sort of price as the UK. The meals in restaurants that we had were also similar prices, if not a little more expensive. McDonalds, however, cost around 2/3 of the prices in the UK (yes, we had a McDonalds!). We had an ice cream at the top of The Peak - it cost around £3.50 (we decided to stick with one scoop...). In Kowloon park, there was a McDonalds kiosk (yes, again - it was the only one there!), and the cones only cost around 50p! Public transport is pretty cheap (see above) - best value award goes to the Star Ferry, which cost around 20p (or just 16p if you travel below deck, but we decided to splash out). Taxis were decent value - not cheap like the MTR but still cheaper than the UK. Even the attractions were good value - an adult ticket to Ocean Park costs around £25, while the child price is half of this and a family ticket costs even less (for comparison, a family ticket to Alton Towers is £170...). Even the Hong Kong Disneyland (which we didn't go to) is much cheaper than its Paris or US counterparts.  The bottom line is, far from finding Hong Kong expensive (as we kept hearing), we generally found it pretty cheap. Just eat in McDonalds and don't buy ice creams at The Peak. 

Diet Coke

It doesn't seem to exist. Coke Zero all the way. What is the actual difference anyway? One calorie?!

Airport transfer

If there are three or four of you, a taxi is definitely your best option. Our hotel provided an airport transfer, but it wasn't cheap. The Airport Express Line is good value (HK$100 or £8 for an adult ticket),  but you still have to get from the station to your hotel. There may be a convenient bus or MTR stop, or the hotel may have a free shuttle bus (ours did). Alternatively, you could get a taxi - but we decided it was easier to get a taxi straight from the airport. It cost around HK$350 including luggage and tolls - for the sake of a few pounds, it was well worth the convenience and not having to wait around and lug our cases. I didn't see any taxis that would take more than 4 people and cases, though. 

Overhead walkways 

Not only were shopping centres good for air-con but they were also good for getting from place to place avoiding the roads (and the heat). Overhead walkways link lots of the shopping centres with MTRs and office buildings, so it's often possible to walk a fair part of your journey under cover and without having to cross some of the busy roads. My tip is to avoid going down(!) unless you have to!

Public toilets

There were lots. They were clean. They had toilet paper, soap and lockable doors. And they were free (take note, London). 

People and language

Everyone we came across was friendly and polite (with the exception of a certain old man). We did find ourselves being stared at a lot, particularly the children. I expected the people of Hong Kong to be very used to white people - I was forgetting that many of those people were actually visiting Hong Kong themselves from China, and had perhaps not seen white people (especially children!) in 'real life'. We also found that everyone spoke English, at least well enough to understand us and make themselves understood. I normally attempt to learn some useful phrases before I go (thank you, if nothing else), but I read that the intonation makes all the difference. So I asked a waitress how to say thank you in Cantonese - turned out she was Thai and didn't know, so I gave up. 

Wildlife

Keep your eyes peeled for unusual birds and some really beautiful butterflies. Oh, and mosquitoes - I didn't see any, but they sure saw me. 

Claustrophobia

If you suffer, don't go to Hong Kong. There's an awful lot of stairs to climb if you don't like lifts...

The curse of the queue

I suffer from queue-rage. It's not the queuing itself that bothers me, although I can't say I like it - it's queue-jumping. It's a primal thing - I have no control over the anger that builds when someone DARES to push in (or try). How I've survived several trips to Disney, I don't know - you can guarantee I'll have been close to exploding on at least five occasions a day. Anyway, when I saw a sign at Ocean Park saying that queue-jumping was prohibited, I was ecstatic - sure enough, everybody queued very nicely, and not once did I have even a small flutter of rage. Likewise, when we started queuing for the Peak Tram, I was very impressed - the queue seemed very orderly, and someone came to put up new barriers as soon as the queue extended past them. This all changed, however, once we got past the turnstiles - what was once a queue became a crowd. And as soon as the tram arrived, the crowd became a free-for-all. Even though we were originally halfway through the 'queue', we were pushed and shoved out of the way until the tram was full, leaving just us and another family still standing on the platform dejectedly. The ten-minute wait for the next tram was annoying - what was worse was the fact that WE SHOULD HAVE BEEN ON THAT TRAM!!!! Anger building at this point... So then they let the next lot of people onto the platform, and an old Chinese man came and stood next to us. 'Oh well,' I thought. 'At least we'll be the first on. It's only fair.' Ha. As soon as the tram arrived, the pushing and shoving started again. Everyone was determined to get on the tram first. Including the little old man. Not to be outdone, I put my arm out to block his way and make sure the boys got on first. You should have heard him tutting. 'We were FIRST!!!' I protested, sounding like a five-year-old. I managed to get me and the boys onto the tram first. He managed to push Lee out of the way. I managed to make myself look both childish and mean to old people. Moral: don't be fooled by Chinese queues. And try and avoid standing in a queue with me. 

Culture shock

Hong Kong had never been on my bucket list - it was simply a convenient destination between the UK and Australia. We decided we wanted to stop somewhere on the way to break up the journey, and Hong Kong and Singapore were the best options. Hong Kong won, simply because it worked out the easiest and cheapest option flight-wise. Plus there was another reason for stopping on the way, apart from reducing flight times and jet lag - being able to cross another continent (and country, of course) off my list. I had already crossed off Europe of course (living there kind of helps), North America, Australasia and Africa (Egypt). South America is still to be done (I'm thinking Rio?), and Antarctica is not really a priority. And then there was Asia. We did stop at Singapore airport for refuelling last time we went to Australia. I sort of counted it as Asia, but was well aware it was cheating. Not only had we not seen any of the country, but I think - officially - the departure lounge of an airport is a bit of a no-man's-land! There was also Turkey; Lee assures me that any part east of the Bosphorus is Asia Minor but I'm still not convinced it counts - it certainly didn't feel like Asia. But there is no doubt that Hong Kong is part of Asia, so I was eager to tick another continent off the list.

At the same time, I was a little wary - Asia per se isn't a continent that's ever really appealed. The accounts of Delhi Belly have always put me off going to India, for a start. Then there's the poverty, the politics and the general 'differentness'... I found my day trip to Egypt (from Cyprus) was a bit of a culture shock, so the thought of Asia always made me a little nervous. It's a long way to go to 'test it out' - but was I really willing to commit to spending a week or more in such a (potentially) different country? Despite loving my holidays, I don't consider myself a 'traveller' - I'm not high-maintenance, and can live without my home comforts (hey, I go camping!), but only to a certain extent. I like to experience different cultures, but in a 'safe' way. I like to try the local food, but no chicken feet or sheep's brains, thank you. I like to have a go at the local language but I like to know I'll be able to get by speaking English. And, most importantly, I like nice toilets. I don't do those awful squat toilets and I certainly don't do toilets with no doors (stories of toilets in China have filled me with horror!). I do nice, clean, pleasant-smelling toilets, with a lockable door, soap by the sinks and plenty of toilet paper.

Anyway, a stop in Hong Kong seemed like the perfect choice, given my misgivings. Firstly, it was a short stop - if I didn't like it, I knew I wouldn't be staying long. Plus I hadn't wasted time or (too much) money, as it was part of a journey I was making anyway. Secondly, it was a 'safe' way to experience China - the perfect compromise. I would get to experience the culture of China - the food, the language, the climate, the people, etc. - but with the added 'Westerness' that Hong Kong brings. A quick Google search told me all the signs are in English as well as Cantonese, and most of the people also speak English. The long British occupation of Hong Kong has left several legacies - which meant that I could experience China in a British kind of way.

I was still a little apprehensive about Hong Kong, however. It was still going to be far-removed from anywhere I'd been before. But everyone I spoke to who's been there (quite a lot of people) sung its praises, and I soon understood why. It's a beautiful city, one that my family and I all liked very much, and with plenty to do. In theory, it should still have been a massive culture shock. It's hard to explain how it feels to be the only white people in a sea of Chinese faces - certainly we were an unusual site (or at least the children were), judging by the amount of stares and points we got. It's strange to be in a country where, despite the English signs, the other signs don't use figures that are even vaguely recognisable. I may not be able to read much Spanish, for example, but at least I can still understand numbers! Even the Greek alphabet makes some sense to me. There were so many other things that were very different culturally - the buildings, the currency (it's hard to get your head around $100 only being around £8), the general ways of the people... Yet, at the same time, it didn't feel like a culture shock at all. Stood on the MTR (the Hong Kong metro), surrounded by Chinese people, all speaking a different language and most of them staring at the children, I thought I'd have felt uncomfortable. But I didn't. Lee and I mused over this - we were both surprised at just how at-home we felt. I guess there is still enough 'Britishness' to feel comfortable with those things that are typically Chinese. Our overwhelming feeling upon leaving Hong Kong was that we'd barely scratched the surface - there's so much we didn't do or see, and we'd really like the chance. I might even be prepared to try China, now we've 'tested the water'.

Oh, and the public toilets? Lovely. Clean, lots of toilet roll, doors that locked and antibacterial soap. And there were lots of them. Might be another reason I'm keen to come back to Hong Kong...

Good intentions...

As I write this, we are about to embark on a five-and-a-bit-week tour of Australia with two stops in Hong Kong thrown in for good measure. Those of you who know me personally will know I update my Facebook status religiously when I'm on holiday. It's not all about smug, show-off photos of beaches and pools - although there is that too. It's more likely to be about the various disasters we encounter - and believe me, there are many! It's also nice for family to be able to keep up with where we are and what we're doing - especially when it relates to the kids - and it's turned out to be a way for my mum, amongst others, to vicariously holiday through us. So I plan, Wi-Fi allowing, to do the same this holiday. However, I tend to keep my Facebook updates fairly short - partly because not all my FB friends are actually interested and partly because I haven't got the time to write long updates every day. So I plan to try to update my blog regularly - that way, those FB friends who can be bothered can read about our holiday in more detail, while those who think 'here she goes again' can scroll quickly past my posts in their news feeds. And my random blog readers get to hear all about our adventures in Oz - lucky you! There is also an advantage in writing about things as or soon after they happen - trying to write numerous blog posts a week after arriving home is never quite the same, and I can never remember half the stuff that happened. Of course, I was full of good intentions when I first started this blog too. I was going to update it at least once a week, preferably twice or more. It didn't happen, of course - I think I went over a month between updates once. Now I'll be limited to when and where I can get Wi-Fi access on holiday, plus writing posts on a phone is a lot harder than on the PC. And much as I enjoy writing, I don't want to waste precious holiday time blogging when I could be swimming, eating, exploring, catching up with friends or lying on a beach. So, as I said, I PLAN to update my blog regularly, but I make no promises. In the meantime, here's to good intentions!

Fear of flying

I'm lucky that I've never been frightened of flying. Admittedly, I don't actually believe in aeroplanes. You can talk science to me until you're blue in the face, but I'll never understand how a 300-ton piece of metal stays in the air, let alone how it gets there in the first place. As far as I'm concerned, it must be magic, so I try not to think about that too much when I'm actually in the air. But I'm not one of those people who sits nervously waiting at the airport, knocking back a G&T or a Valium. And, on the whole, I enjoy the flight itself, although it rather depends on who's sitting behind me.

This time will be different. For the first time, I'm actually worried about the flight. Stressed is normal - but this time I'm scared. It started, of course, with the announcement about the terrorist threat on flights to and from America. I felt instantly relieved that we were travelling in the opposite direction, especially as we had previously considered America as a destination for this summer. I felt less confident, however, when the advice was extended to all flights. Practically, it's no problem - my phone would always be charged up before a flight anyway, although I imagine the queues for security will be a fair bit longer. It's more the idea of it - someone somewhere's sole purpose in life right now is to work on an undetectable device of mass murder. It makes me feel sick to the stomach. It is always awful to turn on the television and hear about an earthquake or a tsunami, where the loss of life can be devastating. But somehow it feels worse to me when I hear about something caused by other people - deliberate and avoidable. Likewise, there are so many terrible wars going on in the world, and I feel for everybody involved and those who've lost friends and family. But I am guilty, like many others, of being able to put it to the back of my mind, as it doesn't directly affect me. The tragic events of 911 touched so many because it brought things to the forefront of people's minds. Suddenly, this wasn't something happening somewhere else. This was something that could happen to us. I remember trying to explain what had happened to a class of 30 seven-year-olds - it was very difficult to reassure them when I was feeling so scared myself. And here we are again, with a potential threat of another aircraft disaster hanging over us, and the knowledge that there are people out there trying to cause it. But life has to go on, I told myself. It's probably an extra-safe time to fly, as there are so many extra precautions in place. It won't happen to me - what are the chances? But in the back of my mind, there's the knowledge that everyone thinks it won't happen to them - but it does happen to some people...

Just as I was starting to adjust to the whole bombs-in-phones issue, I heard the devastating news about the Malaysian Airlines plane that was shot down (allegedly) over the Ukraine. Hearing about a major plane disaster ahead of taking a flight myself was never going to be good. But, again, the fact that it was deliberate rather than accidental makes it all the more tragic - and frightening. I cried when I read about all those innocent people, going on holiday, returning from visiting family, en route to a work conference - all caught in the wrong place at the wrong time in a conflict that had nothing to do with them. Of course, there are so many innocent people that lose their lives every day, through war, famine, illness or accident - and, as a mother , I find myself crying very easily when I read about it. I confess I often take the route of closing my ears and eyes and not thinking about it, because it's just so damn depressing. But this particular disaster has affected me that little bit more because - well, it could have been me. It could have been my family and friends talking on the news about the tragic end to our trip of a lifetime. It's easy to separate yourself from things that are happening on the other side of the world. But when you and your family are flying right over the top of them, it's a different matter. I'm suddenly filled with such a sense of responsibility, knowing that I'm making the decision to take my children on a flight at such a politically volatile time. Am I being irresponsible? On the plus side, I'm guessing there will be all sorts of extra security and safeguards in light of the recent awful events. There's probably never been a safer time to fly - but I wish with all my heart that the reason for that hadn't been the loss of so many innocent lives.

So, we're going to Australia. On a plane. And I'm scared. But I'm also telling myself not to be so silly. You can't live life too frightened to do anything. Life is short, and I want to live it without regrets - as far as I can. Life goes on, and hopefully we will look back on this summer as one filled with amazing experiences - and we'll be very glad we took the plunge and carried on regardless.

Incidentally,  I visited the Cathay Pacific website soon after hearing about the Malaysian plane, in the hope of reassuring myself that they don't fly over Ukranian airspace (they don't). The first thing I saw on their home page was typhoon warnings for flights to and from Hong Kong (our first stop). Great... anything else?!