A Weekend in Geneva

I'd just about had enough time to unpack and re-pack (and fight off dengue fever) and I was back on a plane again – this time to Geneva!

We were met at the airport by my Auntie Liz who whisked me, my mum and my best friend Hana back to her beautiful home situated in a rural area just over the French border. The house is instantly impressive both in terms of size and setting but the interior is even better; I felt as though we'd arrived onto the set of an Ideal Home Magazine shoot!

In fact, I was so distracted by the modern feature walls and striking artwork which decorate the space so beautifully that I almost didn't notice the view beyond. Sliding open the glass doors, Liz led us out to a glistening swimming pool overlooking the snowy Alps. Even in the fading sunlight, we could just about make out the peak of the Mont Blanc. I was quite sure this was going to be an awesome few days.

The evening ran away with us as we caught up over wine and nibbles and before we knew it, it was time for bed. The following morning, we woke late and had a leisurely breakfast by the poolside whilst making a plan for the day. Midway through, we were joined by a welcome surprise - my cousin, Sian! 

Sian lives and works in Africa and my travels are yet to take me to that part of the world so we're rarely in the same continent, let alone country. I felt very lucky to have her with us for the weekend and having listened to her incredible tales of Chad and Sierra Leone, I don't imagine it will be long until I do spend some time that way.

Though we could easily have spent the whole day by the pool, we were keen to make the most of our short few days so got ourselves sorted and headed out to Annecy. My Aunt told me that I'd been before as a child but my memory was hazy and I certainly didn't remember it being quite so stunning. The lake is almost impossibly blue with fountains  at the centre which cast rainbows in the ripples.

All five of us wanted a closer look so we hired a pedalo and made our way into the midst of it all. The youngsters pedalled whilst our mums took pics (not a fair deal) with all of us pointing at the marvels passed along the way. In particular, I loved the turreted castles high up on the hills which struck me as quintessentially French and really rather beautiful.

The Frenchniess continued into the afternoon as we settled on a Creperie for lunch, indulging in a mixture of savoury and sweet, from entree through to dessert; at least some of us had earned it after our work-out on the lake! Soon after we headed back, fighting the temptation to enter every Swiss chocolate shop in our passing and instead settling for pink champagne on the terrace at home. 

Over dinner the bubbles continued, unveiling more and more hilarious family stories. My favourites, however, were those from before my time when my mum and Liz toured the States together and got up to all kinds of mischief. It reminded me a lot of mine and Hana's own tales except that ours are arguably a lot more tame!

On our final morning, Liz took us along to a typical French market which we fell in love with instantly. Wandering between the stalls, we soon found that our sense of smell was far more reliable than our GCSE French skills in leading us to the best vendors handing out small portions of cheese, fruit and freshly baked bread. Unsurprisingly, the tasters did the trick and we found ourselves leaving with an armful of baguettes amongst macaroons and all sorts else.

This all made for an epic lunch spread back home and there was a genuine concern that if we stayed still for too long afterwards we'd fall into a food coma and miss the flight home. Instead we swiftly (but sadly!) packed our bags and headed out to Geneva for one final stop in town before the airport called. 

It was a whirlwind of a visit but so worth it. There's nothing better than escaping the city for a weekend and immersing yourself in the beautiful European countryside – with a flight time of little more than an hour, it really is at our fingertips!

Flying Solo in the Philippines

There wasn't a single moment during our trip around the world when I wished I'd been travelling alone. The idea terrified me and yet it's that very feeling which enticed me to try. If there's one thing which travel has taught me, it's that life begins outside of your comfort zone and so rather than flying home with the girls, I waved them goodbye and prepared myself for a short solo stint in the Philippines. 

I have to admit, however, that my enthusiasm had wained from the point of booking this trip to the point of actually boarding the plane to Borocay. Having just spent the most amazing ten days with some of my best friends, I had to question the likelihood of this second phase living up to it.  

Energy levels dropped further after a close to twenty four hour journey and by the time I set foot onto the island, I was exhausted. There were dozens of potential people to meet at the hostel bar but I couldn't even contemplate making conversation. 

Escaping the backpacker madness I instead wandered down to the beach to watch the sunset. It was here everything changed. As the sky began to turn pink, I thought about my friend Hatti and quickly remembered two things. Firstly, I'm never truly alone and secondly, make the most of every moment. What would Hatti do if she were here on a paradise island in the Philippines with four full days ahead of her? I as good as heard her voice in my head as the sun disappeared behind the horizon: 'Suck it up Chiara, go and socialise.'

And from that moment on I was never alone. Admittedly I was surrounded by strangers at first but it's surprising how quickly they turn to acquaintances, and later to friends. Back at the room, a girl named Vicky had moved into the bed next to me and we soon found we had a lot in common; she's from Surrey, studied English Lit, loves to write and obviously loves to travel. There were at least four reasons right there why we should go and get dinner together. 

On our way down, we got talking to a group of Irish medics and they joined us too. Whilst Vicky and I had just arrived, the Irish clan had been there four nights already and so promised to take us to the best bars later on. I still wasn't feeling up for a massive night but nevertheless had a couple of rum and cokes out on the balcony with our now significantly larger group. I don't remember consciously making the decision to go to the beach but it turns out a couple is all it took (I later learnt the rum out here is 80%!) 

With the sand between our toes we danced for hours at various bars along the beach. When it started to monsoon, we took cover in a club and Grace and I somehow ended up in a VIP room at a table with a load of Malaysians. It was hardly the West End but it was pretty cool. Once the rum started to taste like sambuca, I took myself home. 

The intense heat and sunshine glaring into our dorm room burnt out any signs of a hangover. Vicky and I were both up and at the beach by eight o'clock, working up a tan. Given the time and the unreal scene in front of me, it would've been reasonable to assume that I was still dreaming. It was the first time I'd seen it in full daylight and I just couldn't believe how perfect it was. Through the shadows of the palms trees which line the coast, the shallow water glows fluorescent turquoise, blending to a royal blue as the seabed suddenly drops and the beach itself (aptly named White Beach) boasts the finest white sand I've seen outside of the Caribbean.

The pristine condition is quite remarkable considering the vast number of people who come here to enjoy them. Borocay is undeniably very touristy and plays far too well to Western culture. You can quite literally stare out into the horizon and feel fully immersed in a paradise island, but turn back around inland and find you're on the doorstep of a Starbucks. I was both shocked and disappointed come lunchtime when I struggled to find a single authentic Philippino dish on the menu of any restaurant in close vicinity to White Beach. 

Luckily, a few people had recommended Puka Shell Beach as being far quieter and more authentic. Therefore, in the afternoon I hopped on a trike (a glorified tuk tuk) to see it for myself. Vicky had booked a massage but I met the Irish clan there and we stayed until sunset, watching the sky transform this time from the comfort of the warm shallow waters. 

When I arrived back, we had another new addition; a girl called Sharon who's been living in Singapore and is soon to move to New Zealand - definitely my kind of girl. We instantly got on and she joined Vicky and I for dinner at a back street restaurant where I had my first proper taste of Philippino food. It's not a touch on Thai or Malaysian, but it was still delicious and half the price of the burgers and pizzas they're serving up at the beach. 

The Irish were on it again but the three of us, slightly older and less accustomed to drinking until we drop, called it a day. Not that we got much rest. The room was so hot and without the aid of air conditioning or 80% rum, it was impossible to sleep. I counted mosquitos for most of the night and was up and out again by sunrise. 

After another full day of sunning ourselves and sipping coconut water on Puka beach, we needed a change of scenery. We’d heard whispers at the hostel of a bar on the peninsular which is a great place to watch the sunset. 

Spider House lived up to the hype. Built on wooden stilts, this bar hovers above the water and gives the perfect view of the endless horizon. It was whilst we were on our third or fourth round of cocktails that we realised we were surrounded by familiar faces. Everyone at the bar was a fellow guest at our hostel and so we soon joined forces and spent the evening together, which culminated with a game of ‘How many Frendz kids can we fit on a trike?’ (Answer: Seven.)

Though I’d had the most amazing time at the hostel, I was yearning for a quiet night in a nice hotel before facing the long journey home. With the luxury of living on a non-backpacker budget, I waved goodbye to the girls and checked myself into a fancy place up on the hill. As my bag disappeared from my shoulders to a porter’s and I was welcomed in with a fresh drink and flower garland, I was rather pleased with my decision. The hardest choice I now had to make was between the big double bed in my air-con room, or the cushioned deckchairs by the beautiful infinity pool. Bliss. 

My final day disappeared with the sun but it did not slip away discreetly. From the poolside I watched in complete awe as the entire sky came alive, alight with oranges and pinks so fiercely bright that I can make no comparison. That image will stay with me forever. 

Not one to be outdone, I attempted an exit as spectacular as the sunset. Overnight my skin took on a fluorescent tone and when I woke I was quite literally glowing. Heat stroke struck me hard and back in the UK I added dengue fever to it too. It wasn’t the best of souvenirs to take away from my beloved Asia but I’m thankful to have a wealth of memories to add to it too. 

Travelling alone was certainly an experience and one which I'd comfortably repeat again if thrown into the situation. However, given the choice, I'd still prefer to holiday with my friends. Whilst I met some truly awesome people who I'd perhaps not have spent time with otherwise, they're now all back on different sides of the world out of reach to reminisce with. One of the best parts of travelling for me is reliving the memories afterwards but moments such as falling off the balcony and launching an island wide search party for Vicky's shoes were all 'had to be there' scenarios and nobody around me was. For this trip, I'll just have to laugh along to myself and accept the insane looks but for my next trip, I'm dragging Hana back along with me.