Postcards From York II

"Wow!"
"Wow, indeed!"
I ran my hands across the wonky medieval walls of our York holiday home.
"This is amazeballs. We don't really need to go to the city. We can just sit here in the house and enjoy its...um...medievalness."; I suggested.
"We really do need to get out at some point, you know."; said The Husband.
"OK then, but only after I open every single cupboard and drawer and check under the bed for snakes."
"There are no poisonous sna..."
"There be adders!!!!"; I interrupted him.
"It's highly unlikely they are nesting under the bed of a holiday home in York."
"You never know. It's better I check."
There were no adders so we went for a walk around the city.

"Look at us walking around with very little likelihood of getting robbed or beheaded!"; I exclaimed.
"Is that a dig at my homeland and its crime statistics?"; said The (Brazilian)  Husband suspiciously.
"No, not at all."; I lied.
He wasn't buying it, but before the argument could develop, I stopped dead in my tracks.
There was a movie (or a TV) production going on, just yards away from York Minster.
"Ooooh, they're filming something, let's have a look."
After observing various people in period costumes shuffling this way and that on set, I decided I was going to be brave and ask some questions: "I'm gonna go and ask what are they filming."
"Why? They're busy, they're not gonna tell you."; stated The Husband
"If I ask politely they will.".
I approached a busy and important looking man: "Erm....so...yeah....whatcha filming here then, mate????"
"Crimewatch UK"; he dead-panned.
I squinted at him suspiciously.
He squinted back. We had a little squint off.
"It's a reconstruction"; he quickly added.
"M...m...mate, you can't bullshit a bullshitter. I'm gonna ask you again...Whatcha filming?"
He better tell me now.
"Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell. For BBC."
"For real?"
"For real. You can check on the internet."
I whipped out the phone. His story checked out.
"Aight then. Cheers. Have a good day."
I went back to The Husband who moved several metres back from the set and was by now dying with embarrassment.
"It's getting dark. Let's go back to the house."
"Let's."

Since the house was supposed to be haunted, I switched all the lights off, lit a million of candles, immersed myself in a roll top bath creatively positioned in the bedroom and waited for ghosts.
Nothing.
"Can we go on ghost tour?"; I asked, still immersed in water.
"Sure."; said The Husband.
"And then can we call the ghosts via ouija board?"
"NO!! Are you crazy. You don't mess around with that."; he panicked.
"But the house has ouija board. And there are instructions."
"NO! It's not good."
"But, you don't believe in anything!!!"; I protested.
"I believe in ghosts!"
"Sweet Bejesus! Fine, I'll do it on my own!"
"You do that. But not in the house."
"Look, I can hardly go and sit with my ouija board on the wet and cold streets of York, indulging in paranormal activity. People will think I lost my marbles and commit me to an institution."
"Don't be silly, this is England. People will think you're mildly eccentric at most."
He won. No ouija board then. Still, I was determined to see and hear the ghosts.
We settled for the night and nodded off to sleep...

Postcards From York I

"Hey"; said I to The Husband
"Hey"
"Um..."East Coast Trains" has the train travel offers for £5"
"Uh-huh. And where do they go?"
"They mostly go to uncharted territories outside of London. More specifically...Newcastle, York, Edinburgh and...um...all the villages in between. We could go to York. There be Vikings there!!!"; I was angling for a trip.
"OK then, sold. Let's go to York."

After two more days of internet comparing the accommodation (no one can accuse me of not being thorough), I found us a haunted house to stay in. The whole house. For just the two of us.
"We'll be staying in a haunted medieval house. Hand over the cash."; I demanded.
"They don't have the hotels in York?"
"No!"; I lied.
"How much is it?" enquired The Husband.
"Not much. It is the WHOLE house, you know. It comes with all the mod cons and the ghosts thrown in for free."
"Well, how much?"
I told him. He spluttered his coffee and said: "Darling, we're done touring England."

The day of the York trip finally arrived and we made our way to London's King's Cross station.
It was teeming with people.
"Look at all them northerners. I think they're all going to Newcastle."
"What's wrong with you, woman?"
"I don't know. I'm excited to see the northerners."
The Husband rolled his eyes and hurried to our carriage.

The train was happily chugging along til we got to Doncaster. I glued my face to the window to better observe the exotic station outside London. Then I saw them. Thousands of them. Equipped with writing pads, pens, iPads, compact cameras and DSLR cameras. They were hurriedly and excitedly walking along platforms and even, occasionally, breaking into run.
"OH. MY. EFFING. GOD.", I was still glued to the window, my mouth agape.
"What? What is it?"
"Trainspotters!! Millions of them!!!"
"What's a trainspotter ?"
I explained, the best I could, about the mythical beings who, actually, are clearly well, alive and thriving in Doncaster.
"It must be really boring in Doncaster."; concluded The Husband: "They can't possibly have a decent pub here."
"Oh, they must have."; I disagreed: "It's a well known fact that a cluster of two or more houses in England forms a village and everyone knows a village has to have a pub and a train station. It's the law!"
"So, why the trainspotters?"
"I believe the British male obsession  with trains begins at an early age...they all grow up watching "Thomas The Tank Engine". I took a moment to think about British cartoons: Thomas The Tank Engine, Postman Pat, Bob The Builder....all regular folk. USA gave us Superman, Spiderman and Power Rangers and the UK gave us a cartoon about the ginger postman and his cat. The English like to appreciate the underdog. Being the underdog (and the foreign one at that) myself, I liked that fact.
While I was busy analyzing the finer points of the English psyche, the train made it to York.
"We're here!!! The Viking Central!!!" Yay, let's go!"; I pulled my husband from the train and hurried into the city.

Something New

Spring is here so I figured I might as well treat myself with a few new things. In y'know...spring colours. 

First up, bright pink Nike trainers...strictly not for running or any form of exercise. No, these beauties are for posing....and...um...walking around the city in. I also finally succumbed to the lure of J.Crew and bought this pastel yellow sweater. It looks and feels gorgeous and I can't wait to wear it, both on its own and layered over shirts and blouses.

Finally, a Whistles belt to keep my pants up. Seeing that I (plus the rest of the world and its mother) am doing that "5:2 diet" I concluded it's only a matter of time till my pants start sliding down my butt crack and we can't be having that, can we now?

And now it's your turn....do tell me about your spring buys...  Did you keep to neutrals or did you go technicolour?

1 Red Coat, 5 Ways To Wear It

Truthfully, I think I'm done wearing coats for this season, but because you never can be sure with the British weather and because I last wore this little red number only a few days ago, I figured it deserved one last hurrah on the blog.

The coat is a sale buy from two seasons ago and even though it's bright, it's super wearable and versatile. It aged well too which is a minor miracle considering it's from Zara. I'm pretty sure I will resurrect it again for the next winter season so, in my eyes, this was a great buy. My only gripe is that it doesn't have pockets, but I can just about live without them. 

 Most recently I wore it during a mini holiday in York:

Coat: Zara

Blouse: Zara

Jeans: Mango

Flats: Zara

Bag: Rebecca Minkoff

Watch: Olivia Burton

Pashmina: Joshua Joseph

Checked shirt

I don't think I've worn a checked shirt since my...erm..."grunge" days back in the 90s, but this little beauty from Bellfield changed all that. It's warm, relaxed and perfect for layering.

I wore:

Trench: ASOS

Checked shirt: Bellfield

T-shirt: Pop CPH

Jeans: Mango

Shoes: Zara

Watch: Olivia Burton

Bag: Rebecca Minkoff

Necklace: with thanks to Onecklace

Red Stripes

A bit of 70's nautical vibe going on here, no? Or maybe it's just what I keep telling to myself. 

I wore:

Coat: Zara

Sweater: ASOS

Jeans: Pepe Jeans

Platforms:  Kurt Geiger

Clutch: Accessorize

Watch: Olivia Burton

Bracelet: Fiorelli

My Trusty Little Sunflower Cream

I met this little tub of wonder first time in June 2013.  when it arrived in one of my subscription beauty boxes. At the time I got to try the original version of the cream and absolutely loved it. Needless to say, I was chuffed when I got sent this lavender scented version too a few weeks ago.

Even though I generally don't like lavender scented beauty products, the scent of this cream is very mild and it doesn't linger so I didn't mind using it. 

I love that it was developed by the NHS (I don't know about you, but I do trust the good old NHS :D ), but even more than that I love that it's a great "no fuss" daily moisturizer. I use it on my face as well as the rougher, drier areas such as knees, elbows and heels. It doesn't irritate my skin and it really is lovely to use. Scent wise I have to say I marginally prefer the unscented version simply as I can then layer body creams and perfumes without scents clashing with that of a cream.

The cream is priced at £6.99 for 100ml and it's available online at My Trusty Little Sunflower Cream as well as some hospitals and GPs. The online shop ships worldwide. :)