Driving Him Crazy


Front of our new car

Him:  “You should drive this time.”
Me: “No, I shouldn’t.”
Him: “Yes you should. Come on, it’s time you started.”
Me: “I don’t want to. They drive on the wrong side of the road.”
Him: “Don’t be silly. You’ve driven in the US, Africa, Asia and the Middle East. I think you can handle Bratislava.”
Me: “We can always take a taxi.”
Him: “What was the point of buying the car then?”
Me: “Oh alright then. If you’re going to go on and on about it.”
Sound of car door slamming.
Me: “Which side of the road am I supposed to be on?”
Him: “Be careful there is a car coming.”
Me: “The gear shift is on the wrong side.”
Him: “Look out for that stop sign!”
Me: “I keep turning on the wipers instead of the indicators.”
Him: “So I’ve noticed.”
Me: “I keep trying to change gear with the door handle.”
Him: “You’ll get used to it.”

Back of the car that I am not driving

Back of our new car

Me: “Who gives way? I hate this.”
Him: “You’re supposed to…look out.. for that…”
Me: “Which side of the road am I meant to be on?”
Him: Just concentrate and remember to make sure you are sitting in the center of the road.”
Me: “Do I stop or what? Which side of the road am I supposed to be on?”
Him: “Quick you need to change lanes.”
Me: “Which lane? Which side of the road am I meant to be on?”
Me: “I told you I didn’t want to drive. I hate this!”
Him: “Look out for that…stop you need to…STOP!!”
Me: “That’s it. I’ve had enough.”
Him: “Do you think we could at least go further than around the block?”
Me: “No. I don’t. I’ve had enough”
Him:”You’re not the only one.”
Me: “What?”
Him: “Nothing.”
Sound of car door slamming.

Categories: Bungling Around Bratislava...and other places, General blogs on things I am not very good at | Tags: , , | 14 Comments

A Trip to Hairdressers Around the World

Hairdresser Let’s face it, going to the hairdresser can be hell. Especially if you go in hoping to look like Jennifer Aniston and come out looking like yourself; only with a really bad haircut.

While I was having my hair coloured the other week (not that I have any grey hair or anything) I pondered the many disappointing and even painful hairdressing experiences I have had around the world. Which just happens to lead me to my first category.

Most Physically Painful:  A very budget hairdresser  in the States, so probably got what I deserved. The stylist (if you could call her that, more like sadist) had extremely long fingernails (talons) and seemed to be very mad at me for some reason. I have seen sheep being shorn in New Zealand with more care and humanity. I stumbled out of there, bloodied and bruised and with a horrible haircut. Needless to say I never went back.

Most unhappy with result: There would be many who would qualify, the US debacle for example, but a perm I got once while home in donald-trump-hairdresser-firedNew Zealand really stands out (literally). I was staying with my mother in law and she recommended her own hairdresser. I came out looking like I had stuck my finger in a wall socket. It was just too frizzy and not cut very well. Perhaps my mother in law was also mad at me. Needless to say, I never went back.

Most waste of money: Again, the majority of places but one salon in South Africa comes to mind. I thought I would treat myself to a really upmarket place that a neighbour had recommended (maybe she was also mad at me). They had an automatic massage chair which provided a massage while they washed your hair and they served food and wine as well as coffee. I was having a wonderful time until I met male stylist. He did exactly the opposite of what I asked for (I wanted straightened hair and he made it curly as apparently straight hair was out for the summer). Then he yelled to a colleague across the salon that I had dandruff so simply must have some shampoo product or other. I rushed out of there totally humiliated, clutching my expensive products and went straight home to wash out the curls (I looked like a cross between Shirley Temple and a goldilocks pot scrub). I then discovered that the cut was uneven and had to go to another hairdresser to have it fixed.  Needless to say, I never went back.

hairdresser 1Most embarrassing: Definitely in Bangladesh where I was often the center of attention. From the time I arrived until I left all the staff and customers would stare at me. There was even a crowd gathering outside the shop also staring in the window at the funny white lady getting her hair done. I grew my hair long while I lived there so I would not need to go back.

Most relaxing: The good news for once. Probably Tanzania, where I got the best head massage whle having my hair washed. I would fall asleep with my head drooped over the basin and wake up wondering where I was (sigh). I scheduled appointments I didn’t need, just for the massage.

Most culturally inappropriate: This would have been in Jordan where, much to the consternation of the stylist, I refused her offer to blow dry my hair. I was trying to save money and I hated the stiff fluffed up look she gave me the last time. Yes I know, not thinking things through. This meant I left with wet hair, which was a little embarrassing, not to mention culturally inappropriate, as I discovered later. A woman should not be seen out in public with wet hair. The reason why was not exactly clear, but it would explain all the strange looks I got as I rushed to my car.

Most staff helping me: Here in Bratislava definitely qualifies. I have one guy to  colour my hair (not that I am going grey or anything) another guy to wash my hair and a third (who looks a little like Hugh Grant and keeps admiring himself in the mirror) to do the cut and blow dry. They do a great job plus the coffee is fantastic. The only problem is the price (could compete for most expensive) and they only have about 3 magazines in English which they never seem to update. But I enjoy going there and last time they gave me champagne. I want to go weekly but Greg doesn’t think that is such a good idea (did I mention it could also qualify for the most expensive?).

Most uncomfortable: Again in New Zealand when I was much (much) younger and had really long hair. I went in for a quick trim and the katy hairdresserhairdresser made me stand up as my hair fell too close to the ground for her to get underneath if I was sitting down (well that is what she told me). This could also compete for most embarrassing.

Most annoying:  Too many to count. I am not usually in the mood to chat when I am at the hairdressers. I just want to sip coffee, read magazines and fall asleep when they wash my hair. I hate being asked  “What are you doing for the rest of the day?” especially when they repeat the question a little later as they obviously weren’t listening to my answer the first time. I also hate “What are your weekend plans?” and “Would you like to buy some expensive product or other?”

We have come to the end of my tour of hairdressing hell around the world. I would love to hear some of your hairdressing stories in the comments section below. I am sure they could match mine and would help me deal with my own painful memories. Or give me a laugh which would be even better!

Categories: Bungling Around Bratislava...and other places, Travel blogs | 19 Comments

Me Not Talking About Croatia

Rivonj in Croatia was just too gorgeous for words, so I am going to shut up for once and let my photos do all the talking.


See I am not saying anything about the gorgeous old town…

me on bike

…or about how sore my bum was at the end of the day because I haven’t ridden a bike in a while…



…or about how blue and refreshing the ocean was on a very hot day…

Greg asleep

… or that Greg fell asleep as usual, even though there were two topless women just in front of him….


Watching rugby

…or that we spent 3 hours on a gorgeous afternoon watching rugby…or that  I made too much noise cheering…or that we won…



…or about the fun I had wandering the streets shopping,,,Greg not so much…

Greg wine

…or about the lovely wine we drank…

Fay food

…or about the delicious fresh seafood we ate..

Greg unhappy bill

…or about how Greg felt about paying the bill…


…or that Greg managed to stay awake long enough to enjoy a gorgeous sunset at the end of a perfect day….


Categories: Bungling Around Bratislava...and other places, Sleepy husband blogs, Travel blogs | Tags: , , , | 11 Comments

Senior Citizens Sizzling at Sziget

A fraction of crowd

Bad photo of a fraction of crowd

Now that we live in Europe and are almost senior citizens, I feel it is important to attend cultural events such as music festivals (old people like to feel they are cultured) especially if we also manage to get free tickets (old people like free stuff).

Kiwi band Moana and the Tribe were playing at the Sziget Music Festival in Budapest, and since we love Budapest and anything free (thanks Tim and Moana)  we decided…well I decided and told Greg he was going…that this was too good an opportunity to miss (old people get quite bossy).

I said we should take the train, as I thought it would be easier than driving (old people like things to be easy). This turned out to be another of my small and irritating mistakes. Firstly, I thought our train was due 30 minutes before it was (old people get confused) so we got there  too early. Then it was delayed another 50 minutes, so we spent about the travel time by car waiting at the Bratislava train station.  I was starting to worry about making it to the festival on time (old people tend to panic) and complaining to Greg about why he had not insisted we go by car. I also had issues on the return journey, which I hope I remember to tell you about later (old people are quite forgetful).

We made it to the festival on time, and it was amazing. A huge annual week-long event held on an island in the Danube, right in the middle of Budapest. People camping in tents, around 36 different stages for the various acts, food tents galore, and of course plenty of bars for the approximately 400,000 young people who were wandering around in various stages of undress (old people aren’t very good at describing young people things so see more about the festival here: http://www.sziget.hu).

Bad photo of Moana and Tribe

Bad photo of Moana and Tribe

It soon became obvious that we were the eldest people on the entire island. My husband lovingly reinforced this by pointing out that I was the only one wearing a skirt that came to my knees. I then lovingly pointed out that he was the only one in an old man’s shirt with a collar (old people like to bicker).

Moana and the tribe were fantastic. We really loved their fusion of modern with traditional Maori music and culture; accentuated by the two Maori Warriors also on stage for most of the performance (old people can’t be bothered going into details so see more about the band here: http://www.moananz.com). 

We stayed seated on the embankment as we thought two old people trying to groove down in front of the stage may spoil Moana’s cool vibe somewhat and just embarrass all concerned. Plus I was worried I would faint from sun stroke as it must have been over 40 C (old people shouldn’t dance in high temperatures).

After Moana and the Tribe’s performance, we stayed on for another act-some type of loud noise from Denmark-and then decided it was past our bedtime, so headed back to the mainland (old people like to go to bed early).

Something older than me

Bad photo of something older than me

The next morning, Greg took the early train as he has to work so I can afford all these trips. I decided to visit the National Museum for two reasons. One: to escape the heat and two: I was fairly certain that something would be older than me to make up for the day before (old people like museums).

Then it was time to get the train home. Again, a few things went wrong. First I got there too early (old people are always worried they will be late). Then the train was delayed  (old people get impatient).  Then for some unknown reason they told us about 2 hours into the trip that it wasn’t going to stop at Bratislava after all (old people don’t like sudden changes in plan). A few confused and disgruntled people got off at the next station (old people get irritated when things go wrong). Five hours from when I arrived at the station in Budapest, I made it home to Bratislava (old people like to get home safely).

Next time we take the car and I am going to wear a bikini to match my zimmer frame (old people like to plan ahead).

Categories: Bungling Around Bratislava...and other places, Sleepy husband blogs, Travel blogs | Tags: , , , | 6 Comments

Moaning and Groaning from an Accompanying Spouse.

The other week I wrote a blog that was downright annoying to many people which I completely understand. It even annoyed me. (http://www.faysflounderings.com/2013/08/01/the-truth-about-our-unhappy-lives/). I implied that my life was one big holiday, when in reality being a serial expat does have its downside. So to set the record straight, I have attempted to list some of the challenges.

(This list is far from comprehensive and is all over the place in location and timeline as I have been doing this for a very long time and in many different places):

  • Missing family and their births, deaths and marriages.

    Scary snake

    Scary snake

  • Trying to convince my young kids that sitting in a Bedouin tent  with sweat dripping off their noses is lots of fun.
  • Always saying goodbye to good friends, promising to keep in touch and then losing contact because I failed miserably to keep my promise.
  • Worrying about things like malaria, snakes, bus accidents and getting caught up in various conflicts.
  • Constantly packing or unpacking in a new house (though actually I love that).
  • Being constantly stared at because we are different and are often doing something stupid.
  • Constantly feeling stupid because we don’t know what the heck is going on.
  • Having to justify to people back home why it is necessary to have household staff.
  • Trying not to be one of those awful expat women who are always complaining about their household staff, but really wishing they would work a little faster!
  • Worrying that it is not good to drag your children around the world. Then having them leave home and move across to the other side of the world.
  • Trying not to strangle the kids when they would complain because we were taking them to places like Jerusalem or Cyprus but they just wanted to stay home and watch TV, or hang out with their friends.
  • Getting tired of having to wear too many clothes in stifling heat (ie no shorts or sleeveless tops) because it is not culturally appropriate. (Shame as I have such sexy armpits!)
  • Being all excited about going on holiday to Calcutta (when we were living in Bangladesh) and finding out there were never any flights even though we had a ticket for that day. Then all getting very sick with having chronic diarrhea when we finally got to Calcutta on our holiday.

    Scary spider

    Scary spider

  • Trying to convince my young son that trying to bribe a policeman so he did not give me a parking ticket was perfectly acceptable Christian behaviour.
  • Often being misunderstood (and that is by other English speakers who do not get my kiwi accent) or misunderstanding someone else is speaking to me and thinking they are asking how I am when in reality they are telling me to move because I am in the way.
  • Not knowing how/where to buy basic groceries because I can’t read the labels in the supermarkets or because they don’t actually have supermarkets.
  • Feeling guilty because we lived so much better than the locals in developing countries. But at the same time, feeling envious because we did not live as well as many other expats in those same places.
  • Trying to impress friends/family when they came to visit with my language skills and being constantly met with blank looks by the locals who had no idea what I was trying to say.
  • Trying to avoid cockroaches and spiders the size of small animals.
  • Trying to help the children with their homework by candlelight in the stifling heat because we were in the middle of yet another electricity cut.
  • Crying with envy when I went to a friend’s house the next day and she had a generator so had lights and air conditioning.
  • Not being able to get home in time to be with my mother before she died.
  • Trying to fix my son’s braces with pliers as the orthodontist was out of town.

    Scary cockroach

    Scary cockroach

  • When I was working (as I did in Bangladesh and Jordan) feeling guilty when I left the children at home but then feeling guilty when I was at home because I should have been at work.
  • Now feeling guilty because I am not able to work as have no work permit (though at other times it is great!).
  • Constantly being asked what it is like to follow my husband around the world, as if I am his personal baggage or pet dog.

There, I hope that makes you feel better. And I am NOT going to mention that we are off to Croatia tomorrow for a long weekend by the ocean.



Categories: Bungling Around Bratislava...and other places, General blogs on things I am not very good at, Neurotic Nitwit blogs, Travel blogs | 16 Comments

Screaming, Abusive Language and General Disturbing Behaviour.

What follows is based on true events. Some may find the content disturbing. Names have been changed to protect privacy.

Our story begins last Saturday morning in a living room somewhere in Europe. There is one man, one woman and one dog in the room. The man  is lying on the couch. The dog is asleep on the floor at his feet. The woman is biting her nails and sitting on the edge of an armchair. Everyone but the dog is watching the television, which is showing the final of  the Super Rugby Competition. A New Zealand team is playing an Australian team and we are about 5 minutes into the second half. The Australian team is ahead. Chiefs_Lineout

The woman: “Get him, Get him, GET HIM!!!” She leaps to her feet and advances on the television.

The man is silent. The dog doesn’t move.

The woman: “What is that for? Come on ref, what did he do wrong? Stupid (mutter of swearwords) ref. Gary, what was that penalty for?”

The man is silent. The dog doesn’t move.

The woman: “He won’t miss this…I can’t watch!!!!” She sits down on the chair with her hands over her eyes.

The man is silent. The dog doesn’t move.

The woman: “Come on now Chiefs…get going….pass it….that’s right…yes…go…GOOOO!!!! OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH why did he kick it?? He should have held on…don’t you think Gary? Oh good we have it back…good…go…go….GOOOOOOOO!!!”

She leaps to her feet and begins pacing the floor.

The woman: “OHHHHH NOOO, he dropped it….Gary did you see that? I can’t stand this…”

brumbies She sits down on the chair with her hands over her eyes.

The man is silent. The dog doesn’t move.

The woman: “Oh NOOOOOO…how did he miss that kick? You’ve got to be kidding me…..”

She leaps to her feet and starts pacing.

The woman: “Stop him, STOP HIM!!!!!!!! Oh NOOOO….that’s it, that’s the game over and done for… I can’t watch this anymore.”

She stomps out of the room.

The man is silent. The dog doesn’t move.

After 5 minutes she comes back and stands at the door.Chiefs_Kimlin

The Woman: “What’s happening Gary?”

The man is silent. The dog doesn’t move.

The woman: “Oh… we got a penalty. Good..it is about time…they have been offside all night…”

She comes into the room and sits down.

The man is silent. The dog doesn’t move.

The woman: “Go, Go…GOOOOO, Pass it, pass it…..yes that’s right…run RUN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!…

She leaps to her feet and begins pacing.

The man is silent. The dog doesn’t move. trytime

The woman: YEEEES!  Woohoooo!!! YEEEEES!!! What a great try!!!!  Wasn’t that a great try???”

She jumps in the air and claps loudly and then rushes over to the man who puts his hand up for a high five but is still silent. The dog doesn’t move.

The woman: “He is going to get this over…he won’t miss this will he? No….come on…you can do this…YEEEEESS.” She does some more loud clapping and a silly dance.

The man is silent but does give her a smile. The dog doesn’t move.

The woman: “Oh no…they have got the ball…come on…stop him….I can’t watch…No…yes…we have the ball back Gary…do we….yes…”

The man is silent. The dog doesn’t move. Chiefs SR Champs 2013

The woman: Kick it out….kick it out…YEEEEEEEES. We did it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! We did it Gary!!!!!!!!!!!!Isn’t that fantastic????. Hooooooooorraaaaaaahhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

She is leaping in the air and doing more silly dancing around the room.

The woman: “Super Rugby Champions again!!!!!!!!! I knew they could do it. Didn’t you Gary? I hope they do the haka…”

The man gets up and leaves the room, picking up a book from the coffee table on the way. He takes it into the toilet and closes the door. The dog follows him and goes outside to bark at nothing in particular.

The woman is still leaping around the room and doing silly dances and doesn’t even notice they have gone.

Categories: Bungling Around Bratislava...and other places, Neurotic Nitwit blogs | Tags: , , , | 21 Comments

The truth About Our Unhappy Lives.

Horrible Disneyland

Boring Disneyland

I simply can’t understand why people often say how exciting our lives seem to them. The reality is that being a serial expatriate is extremely challenging and stressful and I just can’t hide it anymore. It is time people knew the truth.

We began this terrible expat existence in the USA. We were forced to eat donuts, pretzels and drink real coffee (not the lovely instant stuff we were used to). We suffered through baseball and basketball games and trips to Disneyland. We were forced to take day trips to places like Washington and New York.  We endured visits to  Niagara Falls and the Grand Canyon. We made new friends and got invited to awful Thanksgiving dinners and even had annoying offers from friends/neighbours to babysit our kids. We stayed for two whole years and it was all very challenging and stressful.

Nasty beach holiday

Stressful beach holiday

We then moved to Bangladesh where we were made to visit beautiful beaches and idyllic forest areas. We had a cook and a house cleaner and I had to wear beautiful saris. The kids went to this terrible small school run mostly by kiwis, with small classes and lots of fun activities. We endured holidays in Nepal and Thailand. We went to mass with Mother Theresa in Calcutta and visited the Taj Mahal. We made new friends and were invited for meals where we were forced to eat delicious curries and drink sweet tea. We stayed for three years and it was all very challenging and stressful.

Awful Greek Islands

Horrible Greek Islands

Then we relocated to Jordan where we were made to eat swharmas, hummus and drink mint tea.  We had to visit historical places like Petra and Babylon in Iraq. We were forced to go to markets in Damascus, the pyramids of Egypt and visit the Wailing Wall and Al Aqsa mosque in Jerusalem. We were made to take holidays in Turkey, the Greek Islands and Cyprus. We endured visiting the Bedouins in their tents, camel rides and floating in the Dead Sea. We had a part time housekeeper which was just awful. We made new friends and were invited to their homes and forced to eat their local delicious mensaf. We stayed for three and a half years and it was all very challenging and stressful.

Not sure how much more of this we can take!

Challenging safari

As if that wasn’t enough punishment we then moved to Tanzania where we were subjected to safaris and white sand beaches. We were forced to go to Zanzibar and the Norongoro Crater. We suffered through visits with the Masai and gazing at Mt Kilimanjaro and we were made to drink sundowners overlooking the plains of the Serengeti.   I had to put up with yet another part time house cleaner. The kids left home at this point and we reluctantly moved to an apartment right on the ocean, with sea views of fishing dhows sailing by. We suffered through holidays to China and Mombasa in Kenya. We made new friends and went to events like the Goat Races. We stayed 7 years and it was all very challenging and stressful.

Revolting Vienna

Awful Vienna

Just when it was getting all too much, we moved to South Africa where we endured shopping malls and gorgeous scenery and had a house with a swimming pool . We had to go to horrible places like Cape Town and Kruger Park. We were forced to to go to rugby games and endured South Africa hosting the Football World Cup. We suffered through holidays in places like Paris and Amsterdam. We made new friends and were forced to eat delicious braais (BBQ) and drink amazing wine. We stayed 6 years and it was all very challenging and stressful.

Finally. things are just going from bad to worse. Now we live in Bratislava and are made to visit Budapest and Prague. We are forced to go to Vienna for lunch. Honestly, how much more of this can we take? I just not sure how much longer I can endure this stressful and challenging life!


Categories: Bungling Around Bratislava...and other places, Far out family blogs, Travel blogs | 14 Comments

Prancing around Prague

Welcome to an insightful and unique photographic overview of Prague taken from the perspective of…well…me! (Warning: If you are hoping for a useful travel guide then you may just be a tad disappointed).

Prague is an amazing city with incredible architecture, gorgeous cathedrals…oh… and handsome men.

Two handsome men who just happen to be my husband and son

Two handsome men who just happen to be my husband and son

But unfortunately it is fairly overrun with tourists (how annoying are other tourists when you are a tourist!)


Way too many annoying tourists

As always when we travel, there was a rugby game on that we just couldn’t miss.

Watching Rugby at Irish Pub

Enjoying the rugby at Irish Pub

But to show we are also very cultured, we went to a concert of classical music.

Enjoying the concert

Greg and Jarred enjoying the concert

We sampled the local cuisine

Greg and Jarred enjoying a beverage

Greg and Jarred enjoying a beverage

We went on a boat ride

Jarred enjoying a boat cruise

Jarred enjoying a boat cruise

We made some new friends…like this guy

Jarred's new friend

Jarred’s new friend

And this guy….

Jarred's other new friend

Jarred’s other new friend


We enjoyed some local street entertainment…like these guys


Yes we bought their CD!

And these guys…

Music guys

Yes we gave them money

And these guys…who just kept giggling  because they couldn’t decide what to sing


Didn’t give them a cent!

Last but by no means least, my favourite quote from a guide on the Prague Hop on Hop Off  Bus tour: “This is unofficially the largest football stadium in the world. It’s unofficial because there are others that are larger”.

So this is unofficially the best photographic blog you will ever see about Prague. It is unofficial because there are others that are much better.

Categories: Bungling Around Bratislava...and other places, Far out family blogs, Travel blogs | Tags: , | 18 Comments

Skeletons, Torture and Sinful Pleasures.


I have just been dying (get it?) to tell you about my visit to the Cemetery Church of All Saints (or Bone Church) that I made recently with my son Jarred.

It all began after we had spent a wonderful few days in Prague (though I felt there were too many tourists but Jarred thought it was fine). We decided to visit the town of Kutnà Hora where we had heard about this creepy Bone Church.

It was only an hour by train but it seemed much longer because we were surrounded by a bunch of giggly teenagers (I found them highly annoying, but Jarred thought they were fine).

We took a while to find our hotel and then when we did, we couldn’t find the reception. This meant that I made a few trips through the restaurant full of guys in overalls while I tried to locate it and they stared as though they had never seen a hot- and-bothered old kiwi lady before (I found this highly embarrassing but Jarred thought they were fine).  After settling in our room (I thought it was rather basic but Jarred thought it was fine) we  made our way by bus to the Bone Church.

IMG_20130708_144242According to the audio guide (which I couldn’t hear that well  but Jarred thought it was fine) it was a very popular place to be buried back in the 14th Century. This was mainly due to the fact that a monk had sprinkled sacred soil he had brought back from Palestine in the cemetery (not to mention all the plagues and wars and things that meant there were a lot of bodies to bury back then).  IMG_20130708_143707

Some highly innovative (or slightly mad?) half blind monk (I couldn’t see what his eyesight had to do with it but Jarred thought it was fine) exhumed some of the skeletons and started placing them in the church.

A woodcarver finished the job by arranging them in very attractive patterns, which included chandeliers and goblets. (For a more detailed and probably more accurate information; check out www.sedlec.info or just Google it why don’t you?).

The audio guide tried to tell us it was actually a sacred place and not at all creepy and macabre (I was not convinced but Jarred thought it was fine). But it was certainly an interesting place to visit. Plus when I think about it, there are a few currently living people whose bones I wouldn’t mind using to decorate my house  (I thought perhaps I shouldn’t add that bit but Jarred said it was fine).


One final thing I should mention which is in line with the macabre nature of this post. While Kutnà Hora is a pretty town with plenty of things to see/do (eg there is a magnificent Cathedral of St Barbara overlooking the town and an abandoned silver mine you can tour) I don’t recommend a visit to the Secret Face of Kutnà Hora Revealed Museum.

While a tourist brochure advertised it as  a place of… “Real crimes and sinful pleasures…” with displays of 191 “…instruments of torture and punishment…with special sound effects…”; it really was just a dark dusty old cellar with very badly translated English on faded pieces of cardboard and a few rusty old bits and pieces on display.

Certainly there were no sound effects, if you don’t count our laughing as we played silly beggars with some of the displays (Overall, I thought it was very poorly done but Jarred thought it was fine).

So that is the end of this gripping story. I asked Jarred to fact check it and asked whether he thought I sounded too much like an old bag but he said he thought it was….well can guess what he thought?

Categories: Bungling Around Bratislava...and other places, Far out family blogs, Travel blogs | Tags: , , | 6 Comments

Confessions of an IKEA addict.

My name is Fay Foster and I am an IKEAholic.

Looks easy so far

Looks easy so far

I have spent way too much time and money there over the past few months.

OK a little more complicated

OK a little more complicated




The only trouble with IKEA is that you have to make the things up yourself, which can be problematic, especially when you are waiting for your husband to do it and he doesn’t want to.


So unless you want to pay someone to do it for you, matters must be taken into one’s own hands.

What are all those little thingies for?

What are all those little thingies for?




It can be a bit daunting at first….


Actually very daunting….

Ooops, something is the wrong way around.

Ooops, something is the wrong way around.




And you can make some mistakes along the way…..





But if you keep going it is worth all the blood, sweat and swearing because…..


I did that!!!!

I did that!!!!


Look what I made!!





Don’t tell anyone, but I may have to go back tomorrow…and the next day….and the day after that…..







Categories: Bungling Around Bratislava...and other places | Tags: , , | 17 Comments