LHB Blog

A girl, a blog and a cactus named Pudding

Tag: #LHB_Travels (Page 1 of 3)

Fountains Abbey and Studley Royal Water Garden (#LHB_Travels)

Alternative title: When your brain is telling you that all it wants to do on a beautifully sunny day is lie in bed and pretend the day doesn’t exist … You lie and tell it you’re going out for ice cream. 

Brain: “You’re lying to me … We never go on the motorway to get ice-cream. Turn the car around and take me home right now!”

Me: “Wind your neck in, we’re going to spend a bit of time with nature”.

Brain: “Turn the damned car around this second! Don’t make me barf all up in this place!”

Me: “Would you rather we had our butt-hole bleached?!”

Brain: “Is that even a thing?! Why would you even -”

Butt: “Oh hell no! You have got to be kidding me! There is not a chance that -”

Me: “I have the beautician on speed dial … Just an FYI”

Brain: “…”

Butt: “…”

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Martin Mere (#LHB_Travels)

Alternative title: Because wet cats don’t look like otters.

“Can I snaffle some otters?” I ask M, excited by the idea.

“Snaffle some otters?” He looks at me puzzled.

“Well, yeah. You have to take two because they hold hands while they sleep so they don’t drift apart …” I’m beginning to ramble a bit.

“No you can’t snaffle any otters” He says, but I barely hear him.

“… I suppose I could just have one and have a little tub of water by the bed for it to sleep in and it could hold my hand while it sleeps!” I’m already searching for mini bath tubs on Google for said otter.

“Ruebi … You can’t have an otter …” He says slowly, my bottom lip is out in protest as he continues “but you could always put Millie in the bath. Wet cats look like otters”.

Anyone want to risk putting my mischievous Bengal kitty step-daughter in the bath to test that theory? No? Me neither!  I value the skin on my arms too much.

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Bird of Paradise

Alternative title: “Go to an Intermediate class” she said … “It’ll be great for you to try” she said … “You need to keep challenging yourself” she said … I’m recalling the words of my beginner yoga tutor (K) as I attempt to become a pretzel … I don’t even like pretzels! 

I’m trying to manipulate my body into Svarga Dvidasana, my arms are screaming bloody murder, I’m drenched in sweat and my balance resembles someone who has downed 10 pints of cheap lager followed by a shot of everything on the top shelf.

“Breathe”  the new instructor (S) reminds me “breathe into the asana. Trust that you can do this”.

I breathe. I relax. I move …

I focus my balance. I focus my thoughts … Finally I smile as I realise Svarga Dvidasana is not the impossible move I thought it was.

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Oslo, Norway (#LHB_Travels)

Alternative title: Ruebi and M’s adventures in Norway Part 4: Oslo…This is the last of the #LHB_Travels posts for a little while (until my bank balance recovers) *sigh* … If you want to catch up with the rest of the series they can be found here: BergenÅlesund and Geirangerfjord


So the final leg of our trip was to the capital of Norway, up until I lived in London a few years ago I didn’t particularly enjoy cities…I was constantly craving time in the countryside, away from the hustle and bustle of daily life. That changed, I changed, the moment I left the train at Kings Cross station that July afternoon…Suddenly I couldn’t get enough of city life. I craved the excitement, the culture, the ambiance. This feeling extended to other cities too, Vancouver, New York, Prague, Budapest…Now Oslo.

Don’t get me wrong, being surrounded by nature makes me feel alive, nurtured, peaceful, centred…But being in a city sets my senses on fire!

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