Before we start out on any travel adventure, home or abroad she has been known to, somewhat wistfully, speculate on the state of the potential toilet facilities.

He of course dismisses any speculation, ‘well you will just have to cope.’ Or ‘it is what it is, just get over it.’

She lets this ride initially before pointing out that these sentiments are spoken by someone that doesn’t have to sit down! Yes the boys have it easy, rightly or wrongly they can basically cope anywhere and having hung around with sailors for a long time she has seen them cope, well, anywhere.

Yes ladies we all know the way we feel as we tentatively approach the public loo. Call it what you will, bathroom, toilette, loo, head we surreptitiously hold our breath as we open the door to the Ladies.

Will it be a squat with a random bucket of water and a scoop, will it be so filthy as to send you, legs crossed, google maps in hand, searching for another option. Do you hold your head high and confidently walk across the foyer of the nearest five star hotel as if you do indeed belong there. We have all done it and yes we do cope, we do get over it but it can and sometimes does spoil the experience.

So to Turkey and France, we knew that France had the worst reputation and have previously experienced it. That time in Montmartre where she had to push past a sweaty smoking Frenchman at the urinal just to reach the cubicle marked for women only to find it unusable is still a scar on the memory.

Now she says, Australians should all hang our heads in shame. We do not compare favourably to the spotless examples in Turkey from the public loos at major sites to the tiny bathrooms of the local cafe. Yes you need to be careful of your paper usage but you can safely sink down onto the seat.

Likewise France has had some sort of water closet led revolution, albeit that it often combines the sexes in the same facilities. Both countries also must have been listening to the world health organisation as they also provide soap, yes real soap to wash your hands. The number one thing to keep your tummy safe is to wash your hands, forget the sanitiser use the soap.

Quite often they charge a small sum for the privilege half a Euro, a Turkish lira, happily paid by women from every culture.

Wake up Australia and fix your loos.

Public Loos Monpazier

Everyone knows that airport security is a necessary evil in our modern world but what a pain.

Seriously don’t we all cringe when we have checked our big bags and we head towards these metal arches? So how can this be worse? Try us?

Him, Nick carries more electronic equipment than your local computer shop. Seriously you could start a small business with what he has in his bags and he’s slow. Upon reaching the security belt. There is the usual huffing as he removes belt, watch, wallet and shoes. Fleeter passengers flow past, elegantly tossing the odd phone into a box and waltzing through the detector. Then he starts carefully laying the various electronic devices into boxes before walking through, inevitably setting off the alarms for no reason but then needing to be wanded.

If this isn’t enough of a pain try watching him put himself together again.

Her, Jen used to be one of these fleet footed types, carrying minimal electronic gear not wearing enough metal to worry the most surly of security guards. Alas no longer. She removes her shoes as a matter of course now as inevitably her artificial hip joint will make the machine bleep. Then she has to wait for the female officer to be available to pat her down and run the wand across her. In a more modern development they also put her into the full body scanner feet apart hands above your head, hold 3 seconds.

The moral of this story, finish your coffee, take your time and we will see you on the other side.

Predominantly and we tell ourselves deceptively, we come to the UK to visit family and friends.

His brother, her sister and a coterie of scaly mates. Reprobates from His misspent youth older now, as are we but still with a flicker of the devil in them.

In truth we come to the UK because we love the pubs. I don’t mean those fake bonhomie pubs in tourist London but the warm dark low ceilinged pubs of the country.

Entry feels like a gentle embrace like a warm and comfortable hug. Generally cheerful Landlord/lady, a few locals propped on stools and inevitably a Labrador or two. The English sensibly take their dogs everywhere with them and what a joy that is.

Though these ones had a three legged springer spaniel.

Drinks in English pubs have always presented a bit of a problem for her as she doesn’t like beer. In the past the wine alternative has been marginal at best and often undrinkable at worst.

Enter the Gin revolution. If you thought Australia had gone mad for Gin think again. These pubs are carrying 20 and 30 different brands flavoured with Rhubarb or Violets, cucumbers and orange all served in a balloon glass with high quality tonic water also favoured with elderflower and cucumber. Ahh Bliss.

He is happily ensconced on a settle pint of Real Ale in hand. She is on the upright chair G and T swirling in the balloon glass.

The scents of dogs, past fires, hops and frying surround and entice.

The Pubs are England at their finest.

This is one that is known to all but not always followed.

When entering an aeroplane, yes it is an aeroplane not an airplane, just saying, always turn left.

Ohh space big screens and…

More bubbles.

Travelling with Nick on planes is somewhat annoying. He has this Pavlov’s dogs reaction to the white noise. As soon as those turbines start up he falls asleep. Yep sitting upright in his seat strapped down he is almost instantly asleep.

In the lie flat seats he will lay gently puffing out little snores only to rise Dracula like as soon as the food arrives.

So annoying is this habit on this trip rather than have to witness it from the centre ‘love seats’ I booked both of us in window seats, his behind mine. Oh the bliss of a hi-res screen a movie selection and on tap bubbles and almost no interruptions.

These turquoise clad angels have the most lovely manners and smiles.

Food is OK for airline food, particularly if you eat the Vietnamese options and joy of joys they have some specialist cocktails.

Day time flight to Saigon sit back and enjoy.

The layover in Saigon of 8 plus hours could have been a show stopper but the airline offer a special program where they whisk you off through immigration to an airport hotel. In truth the hotel is pretty basic but it is 34 degrees and humid and this airport hotel has a roof top pool and a bar.

It’s not a great photo but there is something a bit surreal about swimming in a pool watching a continuous stream of planes landing and of course with the ubiquitous glass of bubbles.

Next stop London.

There are many rules in the Hedonists handbook and it is perfectly acceptable to add to this handbook at any time.

For today let me explain the concept of airport, air side time zones.

At any International airport once you have managed to get past the immigration barrier the sun is always considered ‘over the yardarm.’ This rule is strictly applied to International airports only, never domestic airlines.

The consequence of this is that bubbles can be consumed at all times and without reference to local time zones.

This is best achieved in an airline lounge where bubbles are supplied at no extra charge and may well be accompanied by foods of the breakfast, lunch or dinner variety.

Please see photo below, proof positive that passion fruit Bircher muesli and Australian sparkling were made for each other.

I could tell you that we are middle aged adventurers or that we are lovers of fine food and even bigger lovers of a good drop, wine, gin, whisky.

I also could tell you that we love history and animals, art and coffee shops but perhaps these pics of our packing style best describe us.

Jennifer did organise almost all the details of this holiday but when it comes to packing the pick and shove method trumps the below Nick method. He started this pile at least two weeks out, commandeering the dining room table, compromising all future meals for the duration.

The pile reached immense proportions before Jen pulled him back into line with her subtle suggestions.

Well maybe not so subtle. Who wants to pay for excess baggage.

Jennifers packing distress is nothing compared to the distress it causes to the in house menagerie. Both cats at various times took up residence in the suitcases whilst the worlds best dog, Lola just looked mournful.

Still packing was successfully completed and we managed to fit ourselves and the big suitcases into the Uber to the airport.