Showing posts with label musings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label musings. Show all posts

Wednesday, 24 May 2017

Viking Line's Champagne cruise on MS Grace - go on, spoil yourself!


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Viking Line's annual Champagne cruise on MS Grace is a perfect way to spoil yourself and the one you love. After all - Champagne is a lot like love itself!

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Meeting people for the first time is always as frightening as it is exciting.

What if in reality your date looks nothing like George Clooney (unlike his profile pic...)? What if you're in for a husband and a father of 18, just looking for something on the side?

What if your date turns out to be a sociopath serial killing maniac and at the end of the evening you'll end up mutilated and chopped up in a sports bag which won't be found until years from now in a basement somewhere in Denmark?


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But the reason that keeps us trying again and again is the fact that the first date can also turn out to be a mind-blowing experience, which makes your insides bubble and leaves a smile on your face. Life feels like a celebration and everything feels possible. Eyes open and all of a sudden you're faced with a completely new world. 

Seriously? There are people like this out there in the world?

Senses sharpen as you don't want to miss a second. Every moment reveals something new and enticing about the other person, leaving your head spinning and wanting for more. 


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Prices for Champagnes sold by the glass at Seamore Lounge start at €8. In our glasses Dom Perignon 2006, €28/ glass.


Sure, they come in all shapes and sizes; them people. But the more you get to know them, the better you start to understand what suits your own taste the best.

And then, when you come across something that sweeps you off your feet and makes you see stars... you've got to get more of that.

Much like is the case with Champagne.


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The house Champagne onboard Viking Line's ships is Charles Heidsieck Brut Reserve - an affordable find at the Duty Free for a mere €29.90 a bottle


Sure, the world is full of sparking wines. There's Prosecco and Cava. Sekt and Cremant. Sometimes you discover some real gems among them, too, but Champagne is the queen of all drinks. 

Part of its allure is based on the exclusivity. Champagne is only produced in a very small area, where people have spent hundreds of years mastering the craft with the aim of coming up with something which turns every day into a party and elevates the parties to a whole new level. 

It's something which at its best stops you at your feet. A bottle which, at its most spectacular, creates a celebration just by being opened. 


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Already the sound of the popping cork instantly lifts one's spirits. Then there's the quiet sizzle as it's being poured into a glass.

The gloriusly golden content. The ascent of bubbles sparkling like millions of diamonds. The aroma; toasty, bright, fruity.

The pious moment you take the first, long-anticipated sip and the way the first touch makes your mouth water. The richness, which caresses your palate, whispering promises of adventures to come.


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Champagne - my favourite tipple in the world. 

The only alcohol which is socially acceptable to enjoy any time of the day.

Drink that has throughout the history been devoured from a variety of vessels - some of them almost as legendary as the drink itself. 


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The most classic Champagne glass is said to have been modelled after the breast of no less than the Queen of France. In 20th century it was considered the height of decadence to drink Champagne out of one's lady companions' shoe.  

Let's face it - who couldn't use more decadence in their life?


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Like so many of the best things in life, Champagne was created by accident. Still today a lot depends on factors beyond man's control: poor weather conditions for instance can effectively ruin the entire harvest.

Champagne is associated with so much elegance and mystery; something that was only accelerated by the way it for a long time remained a pleasure only reserved for the royal courts.

The history of Champagne, however, is a history shaped by many strong and independent women. The (often early) deaths of men saw many of their widows (veuve in French, as in Veuve Clicquot) take control and in time they came to play a significant role in both developing new methods and the way businesses were run.


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Best Champagne is very much like love itself: it makes you wait for it. In order to reach its peak Champagne needs to be treated with care - starting from Pinot Noir, the grape that lends Champagne its body. It's a temperamental and a very dignified variety which doesn't put up with just any surroundings... or company. 

Champagne is also not a drink for the foolish or impatient - you have to give it time to mature. But once you do this... Oh là là.

The final result makes it worth all the effort. 


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Exactly a year ago I sat down in a wine bar for a first date which I had been looking forward to with an increasing panic gripping my every nerve. The cork had been popped about a week and a half earlier as we'd exchanged our first messages and already then I knew I was in for a rare treat.

And now, here he was - only an arm's length away.


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We drank Pinot Noir and stared at each other; overwhelmed. Both of us worrying what was going through the other person's head; each just longing to reach out into one anothers' arms. 

The evening was over far too soon. There was still so much to explore and admire. The date had left us both bewildered as if we'd been hit in the head. It was impossible to even try to sleep. 

We continued texting well into the morning until the dawn broke and the first birds started their concert outside our respective windows. 

What on earth had just happened?


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There was no doubt about it - I had to get more of this. 

This was a person I knew I wanted to take my time enjoying. It only took some weeks before I found myself onboard Viking Line (armed with Champagne, of course!) making my way across the sea -  and into his arms again. 


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The road that led to me finding this rare specimen was not an easy one, but worth all the wait; worth all the yeasty, corked, second-class tastings I'd have to suffer through.

The circumstances were right at last. Time had matured us both and we were ready for this moment; a moment one doesn't get many of in one lifetime. Some never do.  

There we were, ready to open and share our content with someone who'd appreciate and cherish it - down to the last drop.


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Now, a year later, we look at each other, still not quite believing our paths actually crossed. 

And I couldn't have thought of a better way to celebrate our first anniversary and love; spread across two states than the annual Champagne cruise on Viking Line's MS Grace, sailing between those two very countries. 


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Prices for 24-hour Champagne cruise onboard MS Grace (Turku- Stockholm) start at €157 pp (depending on the cabin class)


The journey it took for the time to be right for the both of us has been a long and arduous one. Perhaps that's why I don't want to waste another minute. I no longer want to wait any more than I absolutely must: I want to enjoy and spoil us right now.

He only deserves the best and that's why only MS Grace, the pride and joy of Viking Line's fleet, would do.


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A beautiful cabin and dreamy bed we can just dive in and forget all about the world outside.


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The wonderful meals at Oscar à la Carte, prepared by someone else so that for once we both can just sit down to focus on enjoying the feast... and each other.


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Menus at Oscar á la Carte start at €44 pp. (€66 including the wine pairings) 


A visit to the spa; lounging in the Jacuzzi and admiring the archipelago that separates us.




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Entrance to Wellness Spa €24/ adult. Ship's Champagne (Charles Heidsieck)  €27 / demi bottle




Seamore Lounge with its glorious selection of Champagnes by the glass along with all the rarities only available  during the Champagne cruise; each as unique as this moment.



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Deluxe breakfast at Oscar á la Carte, overlooking the sea view we both love so much.


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Deluxe breakfast is included in the cabin price from  Premium class upwards. Purchased separately the price is €19 (€17 when purchased in advance)

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Champagne tasting, which allows us to learn more not just about the Champagne, but each other, too. 

Charles Heidsieck, Henriot, Joseph Perrier, Veuve Clicquot, Moët Chandon, Taittinger, Ruinart, Dom Perignon... much like the bubbles in those endless glasses of Champagne we're finding it difficult to keep our feet on the ground. 

This is Heaven - we never want the cruise to end. 


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Ship's legendary seafood platter that neither one of us can get enough of. Little touches of luxury which will carry us with their wings for days even after the return. 


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Seafood platter €47 pp. Champagne (Taittinger Folies de la Marquetterie ) €72 / bottle


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And of course a trip to Viking Line's Duty Free, where (courtesy of their own impressive import and unbeatable prices) we choose Champagnes to take home with us.

Champagnes we've fallen in love with on this trip; bottles we'll open together and be instantly transported back to the blissful moments of these past days and all the wonderful memories we're now creating together. 


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Strong and independent. That's something I have been for a long time. But that's also meant alone. Now it's time to make room in my life for the most incredible of individuals and embrace all the adventures the possibilities of which at this point seem endless. 


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Our smiling eyes meet each other across the table as we raise our glasses. 

Let the journey begin!


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In collaboration with Viking Line

___________________


ANYONE FOR SECONDS?


         


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Friday, 30 December 2016

What I wish for year 2017?

If I could ask for anything for the New Year, it would be having faith in myself.

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Last year we rang in the New Year with Tzatziki Champion. Toasting with Champagne, wrapped in fur and wearing tiaras (well, how else?)

At midnight we kissed each other (no, no tongues) and spelled out our wishes for the year 2016. Tzatziki Champion wished to have someone else to kiss come next New Year celebrations. Mine was to find a job where I'd be appreciated. Oh, and love.

And love I got. During the first months of the year 2016 I got shit kicked out of me by love like nobody's business. I got to learn that even nearly a decade-long-wait does not make the other person any righter. And the fact that apparently there are several degrees of being married out there. Though, strangely enough, in the end they all mean the same. Being married. To someone who isn't you.

But then there was that Wednesdate in May that left me speechless. A person like this actually exists? And he's sitting here on a date with me?

Then a job found me, too. Round about the same time I got my first book deal. Dreams - some of which I had never even dared to dream of - started coming true. 

Lately I've been reading about an impostor syndrome - a condition I'm all too familiar with. It's chronic inability to have faith in yourself and to believe you deserve any of the good things that come your way - no matter how hard you've worked for them. 

When you just don't believe you're ever quite good enough.





The horrible thing about success (how ever you want to measure it) is the fact that it only makes an individual like myself doubt themselves even more. When the sense of inadequacy has stubbornly followed you from your childhood it is rather humiliating to realize it's become such an integral part of who you are.

Luck. Accident. Coincidence.

There are so many words impostor uses to explain themselves their success. None of which are good or correct.

Before Christmas I sat at doctor's office waiting to have a procedure on my shoulder. As I overheard the nurse call the doctor explaining there was a "37-year-old female waiting" I looked around, puzzled, until I realized she was talking about me. 37?

Christ! Someone that age should know better by now, right? 

But noooooo. 





Love is an equally challenging enterprise. When you've spent the past two decades (no wonder I'm exhausted!) dating people each more unsavoury than the next and invested so much time and effort into relationships that either robbed you of your dignity or money, you're left with some serious battle wounds. Pretty damn serious. At some point you actually start to believe you don't deserve any better. You know: because you're simply just not good enough. For anyone. 

A little part of me still has refused to be defeated and has persistenly believed that there might be something out there after all. Perhaps this time I'll find the one I've always thought I should be with. 

But in the end that small voice (no matter how stubborn) is always drowned out by all the other voices. The moment you allow yourself to trust and feel safe again, the ghosts of the relationships past came out to haunt you and destroy any little progress you might have made in letting someone close to you.

And with this it all comes down to the same thing: fear.





Fear of not being enough.

Fear of not being good enough.

Fear of not mattering to the other person. 

Fear of being ridiculed and humiliated.

Fear of rejection.

Fear of standing in front of the other person, so naked, exposed, raw and vulnerable with all those scars (in my case quite literally too: over the years my ways of punishing myself for my inferiority have taken on some seriously unhealthy forms) and have the other person walk away as they don't like what they see. 

Fear of absolutely fucking everything.





Love is a strange thing.

At the same time it gives you the kind of security nothing else in the world does, but it also makes you so freaking fragile. It's so damn difficult trying to find the balance between  fear and faith; trying to navigate the tricky territories of healthy sense of self-worth and the kind of excessive self preservation mode that only manages to keep everyone at bay.

37 years. According to my life expectancy I still have another 37 to go. Perhaps it's time I finally did something about it? I myself am so worn by the self doubt gnawing me on the inside that I honestly can't see why anybody else would choose to put up with me. 

And if I'm not good enough for mysel, how the hell can I ever be good enough in somebody else's eyes, either?


But how? How do you climb out of that pit with thighs that haven't seen the insides of a spinning class since 1997? How do you go about changing life-long destructive patterns that have weighed you down for that long? Beats me. 

Right now I'm drinking red wine and poring over travel agencies trying to find a last minute deal. Preferably to Congo or North Korea. After the next glass (or bottle - who am I kiddding?) I will without a doubt add Syria into my search preferences, too.




For someone like me blogging is just about the last thing I should be doing. It's continuously having to put yourself out there; endless competition and comparison. It's a strange parallel universe that exists on neurotically measuring page views and visitor statistics - a world where someone is always better than you.

I'm not always sure if I've opened up too much on the blog, but trust me when I tell you this. Based on your feedback, comments and messages I've apparently occasionally managed to offer you some peer support and consolation. I do wish you all knew just how much your support has carried me. 

What the next year has in store none of us knows. What I do know is that come March, my book will be out and hitting the shops. I try to remind myself of that and the fact that for some reason the biggest publishing house believes in me - even if I myself don't. But then, as I manage to sneak in a much-needed break from worrying, that little voice comes nagging back; pointing out how it's nothing compared to endeavours that genuinely try to make the world a better place. You know, like UN. 

But you know what? I've reached a point where I proudly give that voice a finger and point out that UN is a corrupt, inherently impotent agency that's had the worst year of its existence; a year that saw it become nothing more than a chew toy for countries which systematically defy the very founding principles that said agency vows to defend. 





Perhaps that's not such a bad first step? Or perhaps I'll find myself getting on the barricades, sleeping on the street as part of some bloody awareness-raising Occupy this-movement? Perhaps not. I like my own bed far too much. 

So, tomorrow, as the clock hits midnight I will welcome New Year locking lips with Tzatziki Champion. Again. This past year has somehow managed to be the best... and the worst of my life. I dread to even think about next year. 

But if I could ask for anything, I'd ask for courage. Belief in myself and in the fact that one day, somehow I might be good enough. Even if just for myself. 

And that is something I'd wish for all of us. 

I'm going to leave you with wise words from a little man with a big soul. Thank you all for being part of my this year. Perhaps we'll see next year, too?




___________________


ANYONE FOR SECONDS?


      



SHARING IS CARING!


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