If Harry and Meghan’s OTT wedding has wetted your appetite for the red carpet treatment, read on to discover how to rock it like a royal in London.
The Catherine Walker boutique in Chelsea, London
STERLING SHOPPING SPREE (more…)
The Royal Mile in Edinburgh
GO THE EXTRA MILE
The Royal Mile, which is actually 1.12 miles (based on the old “Scots’ mile”), is about as royal as miles come. The sloping backbone of the Scottish capital is bookended by Edinburgh Castle, crowning the imposing Castle Rock at the top of the road, and the Palace of Holyroodhouse (the Queen’s official residence in Edinburgh) at the bottom.
Golden afternoon sunshine illuminates the Palace of Holyroodhouse in Edinburgh.
The street in between is lined with higgledy piggledy, charming old stone buildings, most with shopfronts displaying cashmere, kilts, whisky, wine, Harris tweed and wee gifts. “Thistle Do Nicely” definitely wins for worst pun / best shop name.
CREATE YOUR OWN BESPOKE TIPPLE
Liz’s late mum, The Queen Mother, was known for knocking back her fair share of gin and tonic. The classic cocktail was actually invented by the British army in India as a tasty way to ward off malaria, thanks to the quinine in tonic water. Given that the Queen Mother lived to 101, there might be at least a little truth in G&T’s reputation as a healthy(ish) elixir.
However, you wouldn’t expect a royal to slip just any old hooch past their stiff upper lip. Surely, one would wish to create one’s own bespoke knee-wobbly, swiggly-giggly happy sauce, would one not? (more…)
The Ebro River valley stretches out below the village of Miravet in Catalunya.
With a warm headwind whipping at my pigtails and my legs pumping furiously upon a pair of bike pedals, I’m ten years old again, experiencing the exhilarating thrill of freedom that only a set of wheels can bestow. But instead of cycling around the civilized suburbs as I did in those bygone days of innocence, I’m winding through the wilds of Southern Catalunya in Spain.
Get on yer bike!
Miles of olive groves, green valleys sculpted by terraced fields, and narrow passes gouged from red rock canyons sweep by beneath a blazing blue sky. Mind adrift, I lose myself in the Zen of forward momentum, serenaded by the sound of…well, nothing, save the smooth “whoosh” of tire spokes—and, if I’m honest, my increasingly labored breathing as I embark on a slow uphill ascent.
A cyclists wheels past fields and groves on the Via Verde in Catalunya.
At least I can be reassured that I’m burning some of the thousands of calories I’ve been consuming on my cycling tour of this resolutely resilient region of Spain, which maintains its own language, culture and cuisine.
Tortosa skyline with the Cathedral of Saint Mary and the Ebro River.