My trip of a lifetime in 2017 was hands down one of – if not the best – experience of my life. I wrote about hiking volcanos at sunrise, running through jungles, relaxing in the heart of Ubud, drinking all of the wine in the Yarra wine valleys but there’s a particularly special part of the trip that I didn’t tell you about – which was visiting some very special residents in Singapore.

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Hello! Sorry for the radio silence, it’s been a very busy few weeks with family, friend and work woes. It seems like forever ago that one of the girls and I decided to take a little jaunt to the country side; we decided to drive deep into Herefordshire for a glamping stop-off at The Moon and I.

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After years of a chronic fear of flying, I’ve always envied people who had the ability to travel the world, care-free – hopping onto planes and jumping from hostel to hostel without the constant fear of ‘oh god I will die on this plane and if I don’t, I’ll definitely get murdered or Bridget-Jones-style imprisoned somehow despite not committing any crimes!’…

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Somehow, home time had finally rolled round. We were so gutted to be leaving Iceland – it was beautiful and scenic and our little cabin in the middle of nowhere, that could miraculously withstand brutal storms was going to be bitterly missed.

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So, we were pretty excited about snorkelling and hanging out between two tectonic plates… By the time Sunday – our penultimate day in Iceland rolled round – and we’d felt the cold bite of a 70m storm from the moment we wake up, J and I were well and truly ready to jack the snorkelling in. H on the other hand was adamant we should go, so we wrapped up in our thermals, threw on some extra layers for good measure and, on slightly calmer roads, followed the Sat Nav to Penvgillar National Park.

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After we arrived under the cover of darkness and hurried into the warmth of our cabin, we finished our proseccos and dutifully passed out – it had been a long day, with our journey taking in total about 15 hours after delays and waiting around. As an early bird, I woke up to hear the storm had eased, and to our utmost surprise, the sun was (albeit weakly) shining. Creeping out of bed, I looked out our front door… Which was nothing compared to when I opened it… We decided to don our thermals, and wonder down to the sea front which was about 600 yards from our cottage…

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I nearly missed the bloody plane. Suffice it to say, doing a wine tasting seven hours before a flight won’t end well. Take it from me, DON’T do it. 😂. After a long, horrific, delayed EasyJet flight, we touched down into a brutal storm. A shuttle took us to the car rental place where we were thrown some keys and told by a man in a thick Icelandic accent: “Hold on to the doors. We’ve had one of the cars already lose doors in the storm”… The winds battered the car at 70mph, we blew all over the road in a tired old Hyundai, deep into remote Iceland, with the only respite from the car being blown across the road when we hit a toll tunnel, knowing we were ten minutes away from our destination. Tired from extended delays, arms aching from gripping the steering wheel so tightly, we hooked a…

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What to do, in that odd slump between Christmas and New Year? And especially what to do, if one of your best girlfriends hits the big 3-0 in that time, too? There was only one thing for it. Grab your passport, hop on a 90 minute flight, and find yourself in fairy tale Prague…

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