Europe Shananigans from alex beauchamp on Vimeo.

A little video made and edited by me of a spur of the moment spring trip back to London, Luxembourg and Paris. Here are some links to the places stayed and and transportation used:

Flight: British Airways Business Class, which they call Club World (San Francisco-London | London to Luxembourg | Paris to Los Angeles). With the new BA Terminal in London, you get access to the most amazing lounge and spa so from this point of view, it’s worth it. I flew on the top of the plane coming back and it made a world of difference; it was quieter, more private and had way better service. I’m going to book that upper section from now on.

London Hotel: The Levin Hotel. Loved this hotel from the location to the rooms to the service. It’s right by Harrods which means fantastic tube access, walking distance to mostly everything and it makes you feel as though you’re living in a London Flat. It’s a small boutique property that is stylish without being snooty and extraordinarily reasonably priced for the class of hotel and location. Loved. It.

Luxembourg: I’d never been before and ended up staying with a friend who had a lovely flat within easy walking distance to the city centre. We drove all over the country in a day (in a mini cooper, so fun!), seeing about half a dozen castles. All I have to show for this whole trip is 3 photos! So bad!

Luxembourg to Paris: TGV 1st Class. It only took a couple of hours and I’d recommend paying for 1st. There isn’t a huge difference in price but there is a huge difference in seating, service and quiet.

Paris Hotel: Hotel Particulier Montmartre. I normally stay at the Four Seasons in Paris because of its incredible service and location but I had heard raving things about Hotel Particulier and decided to try it. It was beyond incredible and I loved my nights here (and had the best bath ever) although I have to say, staying in Montmartre is not my favourite area (it’s just inconvenient to a lot of places I go to and friends I see).

And the little orange cat is my partner in crime, Chat du Voyage! It gets more photo time than I do!

For the still photos: See My Flickr Set.

I’ve talked often about how I don’t give actual gifts but instead the gift of time. For my mothers birthday, I decided to give her the gift of travel and took her back to Denmark with me to celebrate both our birthdays (which are two days apart).

I arranged for us to fly into New York first, stay a couple of days to discover the city (and say a hullo to some of my dear friends) and then fly out to Copenhagen to take the city by storm (only we did not know it would be so literal…!).

For two weeks we drove all over the country; saw old homes, old friends and family. There was a lot of family I’d never met but they welcomed me just the same. Each time saying, “you are so like your mum.” This made both of us smile.

I fell in-love with Copenhagen all over again. I fell in-love with girls in dresses biking in the dead of winter. I fell in love with coffee at 10PM and the candles all over. I fell in-love with being snowed in, my cousin’s cat, and that feeling of hygge that is just so Danish.

We spent the last night at the Hotel D’Angeleterre – Denmark’s finest. Somehow we stayed in the H.C. Andersen room – someone I greatly adore and secretly wish to be like (but without some of the messy bits, thanks). It was a fitting farewell and we were both sad to be leaving, because really, we’d both wanted to stay.

But to New York for one last night and then her off to one destination and I off to another. And there we were; two Danish girls who had a marvelous trip and who were already planning their return.

Perhaps it’s the fact I can walk anywhere or hop on the subway as I’ve been doing all morning. Perhaps it’s because New York is such an “up” city – tall buildings that just beg you to keep looking to the sky. Perhaps it’s because you’re anonymous here – even in a bright coloured jacket. People just do their thing without wondering how it looks. Perhaps it’s the diversity; women in furs shopping alongside punk kids with $2 to their name. Perhaps it’s the energy – everything is moving and you can see it. People, cars, subways, it’s all going on. Perhaps it’s because people just don’t work in the city, they live here too. Dog parks next to subway stations and famous landmarks. Perhaps it’s a strange sense of community that happens when you don’t expect it. My friends Felicia and Summer who I met up with yesterday (along with Sara – finally!) mentioned this. And I didn’t quite understand it until today. But somehow, despite being solitary and anonymous, there’s community. LA it’s everyone out for themselves – you feel like someone’s going to screw you over at any time.

When I wandered with Felicia later on, she would tell me about the areas, little background info and dish, which cafe she loved, the good bookstore and so forth. And I was smitten; it was a first date and I was already planning the wedding.

Oh, it’s cold. It is full on sweater, jacket, gloves and scarf weather. But the upside is rosy cheeks and an excuse to stop into cafe’s for tea a lot (which I’ve done).

New York reminds me of Paris in many ways and I remember my younger self who thrived in these places. The energy, the challenges, the constant state of awe. I love to live in awe – of people, of places, of beauty, of things, of words. When things are too easy, when things are too nice, when things are boring as all, I fade. I’m not fading here.

The sun has just set in Vancouver, I think; the rain has been hiding it all day. I went out only for a little to walk the streets to my favourite restaurant for brunch where I lingered for hours (I always do, here, far too cosy to leave especially if you ask for the table by the fire) followed later by coffee where I flipped through some glossy magazines for as long as I could. This trip has been particularily busy, so much so that I extended it by two days just so I could have some time off. I’ve come to realise over the past few months I’ve been terrible about doing nothing at all. Each moment has been filled.

Since September I’ve been working like a mad woman on so many different projects (movie production, a seasonal gig, getting ready for my gallery showings, travel writing, etc) that I literally have not stopped to rest or catch up with my life. So many things became indulgences that I just couldn’t do; reading, tea drinking, visiting, playing, napping. And living in Santa Monica where the sunshine is always out, people are always busy and plans are always being made, it’s been hard to slow down. The fact that my flat feels so exposed with windows of sunlight that pour in, light furniture and walls doesn’t seem to help matters either.

Currently I’m on the top floor (31st) at the Westin Grand Vancouver in a suite that’s made up like a little warm, cosy little European flat with mustard-yellow silk drapes that cover floor to ceiling windows on two sides. Light wooden furniture, used simply, are shown off by a gorgeous dark green rug and a mahogany table and brown couch. The bed in white with far too many fluffy pillows and duvet top have given me the most amazing sleeps I’ve had in a long time. The rain and wind have been beating against my window for the last four days now – something I haven’t experienced for so long – and that’s been begging me to just relax. To not write, to not catch up, to not set up more appointments, to do not one thing at all. And with the amazing stereo playing my CD and tea brewing in the little kitchen, I don’t really have a good excuse to not chill out. It’s the perfect setting.

The trick is to just go with it.

Currently I’m holding down several jobs; there’s on-set movie production, a real estate venture, a gallery showing of my work to prepare for and a two-day a week seasonal gig at my favourite store so that I can buy some pretties at 40% off. Each day I’m in several locations with no days off and it should stay this way until the new year. One very tired girl does this situation make.

So yesterday when I surprisingly found myself with some time, I took a 90minute drive east to a very small apple town of Oak Glen.

99% of the orchards on the four mile strip of road had unfortunately become rather commercial – selling goods and wares without letting you actually be in an orchard. The crowds were too much (I escaped the city to escape them) but luckily near the end of the road I came across the charming, simple, and pretty Willowbrook Orchard – a family run affair complete with dog named Fox.

Picking my own apples, making my own cider, eating a caramel apple in the cool fall sun was a welcome change of pace. Driving around the winding roads, looking at the mountains and valleys, clicking the camera like a mad woman, well, it was good. I relaxed, I smiled, I felt 8. When the sun began to set I knew it was time to make my way back and with apples in hand I headed home.

The drive seemed so long, due in part to traffic, the darkness and gearing myself up to return to a busy, busy week (all the jobs, a friend coming to town, some events and deadlines) that would begin when I woke up.

None of it is easy and none of it is given – it’s all choice. From the jobs I work to how I spend a day off. There’s no magic, no set of circumstances that made it all happen – just effort and a choosing state of mind. It’s why I can work 80-90hour weeks and take one day off to really enjoy and be present in so that it can last me until the next and why it sometimes seems as though I really do nothing but photograph apples.

On Tuesday afternoon she arrived in simple jeans, t-shirt and flip flops and I with tired eyes and a drained personality. Little did we’d know that this trip would change us both enormously.

The first order of business after leaving the airport was to fuel ourselves at Whole Foods for lunch before hitting the Pacific Coast Highway for our two nights in Santa Barbara. After with drinks and snacks in tow, it was time to roll the windows down, crank the music and begin out week long chats and laughing as we cruised alongside the ocean for the next couple of hours.

Arriving at the wonderful Hotel Andulucia just before dinner, we had only a few minutes to quickly change and prepare for what was supposed to be a tour of the farmers market with the Chef of 31 West. Truthfully, though, we weren’t in the mood to meet with him for driving, sunshine and too much time apart had us far too giggly for public interaction. Luckily it turned out that the Chef was too busy for us which gave us time for something much more important – Emily’s first trip to Anthropologie.

There I was her personal shopper; picking out clothes upon clothes that had her modeling for hours. I pushed her out of her comfort zone (something she wanted) and showed her that a skirt can be just as relaxed as pants. By the time the store closed, she agreed, carrying her pretty Anthro bag with ease and a new addiction.

After all that work we were ready for our dinner at 31 West. Wine, good food and conversation though truthfully we ended up being tired, wanting to really go back to the room, slip on our robes and watch cable – something that had become a guilty pleasure to both of us since we had both forgone cable for so long. But rest in comfy duvets was what we needed; the day had been long and the next morning we’d be up early for a good cause – a wine tour through the Santa Ynez Valley.

Cloud Climbers Jeep Tours picked us up at 10AM at our hotel. Instantly smitten with our driver, we knew the trip would be fantastic – and it was. We hit four wineries and by the last we couldn’t do more than 2 tasting’s. The sun, the laughter, the open air hit us hard but good. Going up old stage coach roads, singing the theme to the Greatest American Hero (despite the fact that neither of us is American) lead to a wonderful evening. We wouldn’t have wanted the trip to end were it not for the fact that LOST was premiering that night and we couldn’t miss it. In fact, we couldn’t stop talking about it for hours after.

The next morning we went to a little farmers market, picked up some Girlfriends Booty and went to the beach for a breakfast picnic where we promptly realised we did not like booty.

Driving back to LA along the coast we saw beautiful beaches filled with driftwood in which people had made make-shift shelters. We had to play, and did. Jumping in the waves, hiding under forts, writing messages in the sand. We felt five, which was good because we were really far from it.

Emily’s not a fancy girl but I wanted her to have just a little of it. So we headed to one of my favourite LA hangouts – the Beverly Hills Hotel Fountain restaurant. It was an experience, as always. To see her reaction to people greeting us and treating us well was funny and giving her the best veggie burger on the planet was the best. When Rene Russo walked in she couldn’t believe it – she had just finished watching the Thomas Crowne affair and kept saying “I just saw her totally naked!”

With full bellies it was time to head to The Getty Museum. For $7 the two of us had top views of LA and excellent art. As an art graduate and amazing artist, it was a real experience to see all of it with her. It was even more of an experience to watch her draw there and then to pose her like a model (which she so could be).

After several hours we headed back to my place in Santa Monica, walking the promenade where she shopped even more (which surprised me) and bought the amazing “Holy Moly” shirt from Fossil. Then it was time for dinner and more talking before an early bedtime because the next day was the biggest day – Disneyland.

Put two girlfriends together in Disneyland who love rides and it gets dangerous. I don’t know what we loved more – all the coasters or the fact that twenty-year old guys kept checking us out and hitting on us. I must confess that we loved it. Some things never change.

On one of the coasters there was an older prissy couple in front. Being the mature girl I made the most beautiful and amazing vomiting noise ever. Without missing a beat Emily exclaimed, “Oh no! It’s everywhere!” The best part? They were video’ing the whole thing.

So much screaming, laughing, talking that by the time we left at midnight my voice was gone completely. That, however, did not stop us from opening up the Disney Karoeke CD, playing it and singing along as we drove home that night. While other cars shook with bass to the latest, we were singing The Bare Necessities.

Saturday morning I took her to my favourite cafe for amazing food and my favourite Chai Latte. Then it was a drive to Beverly Hills, the Grove and then to Elixir to relax in the back while getting some drinks to help us recover. When we’d had enough we drove up to The Ritz Carlton in Pasadena where we had dinner reservations.

At first, Emily was hesitant; she hadn’t ever stayed in a hotel like the Ritz or dined somewhere like The Dining Room. She was afraid she didn’t look right or know how to act. I told her that she didn’t have to act any way; there’s no game face to put on and no pretending to do. Borrowing my skirt and top she fretted because she didn’t have shoes – just her flip flops. I told her that was fine, besides, she’d be sitting down. The experience was more important than the shoes. She was worried though as we walked into the restaurant. However, we were greeted wonderfully and had an extraordinary time. In fact, we ended up seeing several girls entering – all with flip flops.

The Dining Room was an amazing, amazing experience – neither of us had ever had anything like it. Jared, whose only job was to order wines and do pairings, started us off with champagne. Then Chef came out because I have an allergy to Gluten and he was incredibly friendly and nice and knew what to do. Choosing the 5 course dinner Jared paired wines for every course and I am here to tell you it makes a difference.
After each dish was served we gushed about the food and wine. Three hours and $400 later were were quite content and even felt a little like rock stars (who are those girls that Chef keeps talking to?).

Feeling good we went next door to the bar where R&B was playing. We boogeyed it up and again got hit on by several men far younger than us. “They must think it’s cool to hit on 30 year old women” she said. “I don’t think they think we’re 30″ I replied.

We headed up to our room – larger than my flat – with two rooms, two balconies, and two bathrooms. We hit the bed and promptly fell to sleep, which was good. Our massages were at 8AM the next morning.

Because we were on the private Club Level at the Ritz, we were able to have free food and drinks literally all day. So at 7:30 we went to the club and had an amazing breakfast and mimosas before we went to the spa. For eighty minutes we were beaten by women but at least we had no knots by the time we dipped ourselves in the hot tub after. Lunch followed to give us energy to hit Old Town Pasadena where, being girls who love 50′s music, we could not help but sing Little Old Lady from Pasadena, over and over.

Later that night we went back to the room where somehow we got sucked into watching two hours of tv which consisted of two shows about people over 500LBS. But there was nothing better than watching it on an amazing bed, with a girlfriend, who would tell you when you could open your eyes and when to close them during the surgery scenes. God bless her.

After we headed back to the club where we had dinner and Baileys. Oh Baileys. Several hours later we went back to our room where, as a surprise to her, I had put all our skits and tapes onto a DVD. For the next 3 hours we watched ourselves from ages 17-21. So much history. It just really hit us that night.

To go away with a girlfriend is to remind you of yourself and that’s what happened on this trip. We each bring out the best of each other and remind each other of who to be. I encouraged her to do her art and she encouraged me to keep moving forward. There was never an awkward moment, no complaining, to trying – nothing. It was a week of ease, of fun, of beautiful, funny, heartfelt moments.

I adore this girl with all my heart and when she left and did her big kiss goodbye I cried. Tears didn’t stop coming out until I got home a half-hour later. I missed her already. But what was interesting to me is that we both said goodbye a little bit changed; she left in a new skirt, top and shoes and was using the word “fancy” and I was relaxed and far more talkative despite having no voice for the past three days.

Oh this trip was good. It was as though we were 18 all over again, just free to do as we pleased, literally laughing all the time, dancing like the morning would never come and telling jokes that only we’d find funny (and we did). We lived each moment fully without effort. Without analysing it, blogging about it, using self-help words or wondering how it fit into the grand scheme of things. Just lived life simply, easily. How it should be.

We agreed to take these trips once a year because it reminded us of all the traits about ourselves we loved then and shouldn’t hide now. And I’m so freaking thankful for that reminder.

Trip Photos.

The boy, the cat, the fish and I once again packed into the truck. It was my turn to drive and I must confess I was nervous. I have once driven a tourist bus when I worked for tour company at age 21. The driver thought it would be funny to see a wee thing trying to manueveur a bus. It was amusing – and scary to oncoming traffic.

The truck wouldn’t have been so scary were it not for the fact it was carrying everything we owned and towing our only car. But I did rather good and for the next several hours enjoyed driving it – feeling like a trucker and even giving myself a trucker name (10-4 this is Eager Beaver. Oh my, how that entertained me for hours).

With only an FM radio, we sung badly to very bad music and had very long discussions about everything. Although a lot of the time we just sat and marvelled at the beautiful scenery of southern Oregon along I-5.

Rolling hills, little towns, lakes and in most parts, snow. Covered entirely in snow. We had been warned of severe weather and when we had called this morning we were told parts of I-5 was shut down or requiring chains and that’s how it’d be for the rest of the week. This made us nervous.

We plunged forth and somehow just missed the storm and the traffic backup it had created. It was raining like mad. I think this is because I had found a lucky penny earlier that afternoon (finding pennies and parking spots are my talents).

This evening we drove through a major rain storm in the mountains which was less than fun. It also made it very difficult to play I Spy but ah well, what can one do?

Now I find myself sitting in a hotel in Sacremento, ready for sleep and desperate for my own flat with a real bath. There’s a wind storm taking place in L.A. in which they’re warning trucks and trailers to stay off road. Perhaps we’ll find ourselves unable to get there by tomorrow night. Or perhaps I’ll find another lucky penny.

It has been a few days of luxury; last night was a fabulous stay at the highly recommended Hotel Oceana in Santa Monica. We would have stayed there but a seconed night if it were not for them being fully booked. The little suite we had held our Whole Food groceries wonderfully and was located across from the ocean. It’s warm golden colour scheme combined with punches of blue reminded me of the chic botique hotels in Souther France. It was heavenly.

Today we checked into the very exclusive Hotel Casa del Mar where, upon check-in, a man brushed past me and said, “Excuse me” to which I paid no attention. After registering I went out to the car in which the concierge informed me it was Tom Hanks who had just walked past. It didn’t hit me until Chris mentioned he had been watching him (as Chris was a couple of feet away) before he jumped into his Toyota Prius. At least I knew those enviromental ads Tom makes are legit and that the hotel was going to be pretty nice.

Our room overlooks the ocean, which I could hear as I ate my supper in the room. The ipod is hooked up to a fabulous stereo and I’ve been rocking out whilst getting ready for company tonight.

Oh, the sunshine, the smiling faces, the pretty Anthropologie and palm trees. I think I’ve fallen for this town.

Things are happening in beautiful, magical ways. It started when I decided to listen for answers instead of just always asking questions. I had forgotten how to be still, to wait, to trust. These last several years in America I’ve always felt that I had to move, make things happen, control.

It got me no where.

So instead, I visualised what I wanted and when I wanted it to happen and then offered a little effort combined with a lot of listening for clues.

And here I am. Heading off tomorrow to find out how real it will all be.

Last month we took the long way home, meandering along back roads instead of the highway. Although we had made this trip over a hundred times, slowing down and taking the time to look allowed for a little adventure and a whole bunch of discoveries such as a charming cafe that served far too big sandwiches, parks in full bloom and a tiny little flower and garden shop that would become my favourite.

The shop was so small but I lost myself in its outdoor space, spending what seemed like hours petting the resident cat, smelling the lavender and oogling over beautiful glass balls. But what really did it for me a little table sunning itself as though it couldn�t take it any more sun.

When we saw it, we knew we wanted it even though it wasn’t like any furniture we owned. We didn�t stop to think if it would go with our simplistic French style because we were smitten with the way the twigs twisted. There was something about its simpleness, it’s organic roots and the knowing that somewhere, someone made this. With the readymade lifestyle that seemed ours as of late, this little table felt needed.

It didn’t come home with us that day however; we decided to wait to pick it up on our way home from celebrating our 5-year anniversary at Harrison Hot Springs. This way, it would be a gift to each other and would go along with the 5th year gift of wood. There would be meaning to the gift, a simple something that wouldn’t overwhelm the five years but compliment them (after all, we did elope for $50. Fancy diamonds wouldn�t seem appropriate somehow).

Upon returning to the garden store, I once again lost my way in the little yard and petted the cat but I couldn�t find the table. We searched for it until decided that perhaps we didn�t need it (would we take it to Europe when we move?). But then it called out, hiding under plants and trees, tucked away quietly waiting for us. Patient little table, that.

We put it in the car (alongside an irresistible little green glass vase, which for $5, holds my roses beautifully) and went to a wonderful little cafe for dinner where we mused over our years together, the little holiday we had, our new home and the thought of a table that will grow with us for years (it really does grow!).