Designer Diving or a Treat for Feet?

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Recently, I took some well needed time off from work and swapped my Manolos for a very different type of footwear, namely my fins, for a 2 week, all inclusive diving holiday to Egypt.

I first started scuba diving in 2008, after booking a holiday of a lifetime to the Maldives, Steve insisted that I couldn’t beat his 2nd love (rugby was his first) and so I either spent 2 weeks in paradise by myself, or I embraced the underwater world and he would teach me how to dive. After stupidly saying when we first met that diving was something I’d always wanted to do, I didn’t really have much of an option other than putting my money where my mouth was.

I was taught in the local diving quarry in North Wales, in a 13 year old wetsuit, that I had very little control over the movement of it. I literally hated every single minute of it, but continued with the promise of the cold and dark, murky water turning into a literal paradise and whole new world as soon as we touched down on the Sun Island Resort, Maldives.

Skip forward 172(ish) dives and its safe to say that I’m extremely glad that I persevered. Although it is fair to say that I absolutely love swapping my heels for fins in the tropical waters of the world, I must admit, cold water diving isn’t really my thing and these days, I do tend to stick to being more of a holiday diver. Having said that, I still manage to own multiple pairs of fins, one pink pair for warm water, a black pair for cold water (when I do venture out) another pink pair that are more suited for diving in a current, and a yellow snorkeling pair, for, well snorkeling! I mean, Marc Jacobs et al is seriously missing a trick here, designer fins is definitely where it should be at!

On the most recent diving holiday, we held awards at the end of the trip, and I am very proud to say that I won the ‘best worn neoprene’ award for my co-ordinated diving attired. The Captain of the Boat we go diving on referred to me for the whole week as ‘Pink Woman’ – I mean, a girls gotta co-ordinate, you never know who you might bump in to!

The one thing I do love about diving holidays is that (although I love my clothes, shoes and handbags as much as the next person) it is always nice to kick back and chill out with, well no shoes. We always go diving now with a company called Divers Lodge who are based in Hurghada. The dive guides are so friendly and knowledgeable and boat staff are amazing, literally the most helpful people in the world, and I cant talk about the diving without mentioning the lunch served on the boat and is the best you’ll find anywhere (no exaggeration!) and the dive sites are awesome. But the best part of it is all is my feet finally get a rest! From the minute you step foot on the boat you enter a no shoe zone, and that is it, for the whole day, my feet are free. Its the most amazing feeling in the world (along with the peace and quiet you get whilst diving with dolphins and turtles and every fish known to man, of course!)

For anyone out there who is in to diving, or wants to give it a try, I would thoroughly recommend Divers Lodge, Hurghada. Not only for an amazing experience, but for the treat for your feet! 🙂



For better; for worse?

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This weekend I went jet skiing for the first time in 2014 and I have to admit, I totally forgot how much i enjoyed it. There is nothing better than whizzing across the sea, feeling the wind in your hair and being miles away (well sometimes just a few hundred meters, but its enough!) from the rest of the world and the hustle and bustle of everyday life.

It was last summer when my husband text me saying “wife, I’ve bought you a jetski!” Not your everyday text – but still a pleasant one all the same. As you can imagine I was eager to get out on the water. Having only ever been on a jetski once in my life before, of course I insisted I was a pro and jumped on without hesitation. (Although Steve did insist on giving me a full on watercraft instructor course before hand, typically of him!)

Surprisingly, I actually managed to glide around the bay we were skiing on quite successfully, I even managed to do it without falling off! Steve was the proud husband taking photos and videos of his skillful wife, until of course, the inevitable happened… CRASH, BANG, WIFE…

The only thing i could say that evening was, well husband; love of my life, apple of my eye… we did say for better or for worse. Looks like you’re stuck with me! 🙂

The one with H-Twenty

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This happened quite a while ago now, but I thought that I would share it, as if I’m being honest, although it was extremely frustrating at the time, it is actually really funny. And, well, if I’m being completely honest, the story of my life.

So, it all began the day I got my new washing machine delivered. Having not had one in the house for months, I was extremely excited to get it up and running. (Sad I know, but it’s the small things…)

Anyways, I plugged it all in, attached all the appropriate pipes, made sure there were no potential opportunities for a leak, and set the machine to go on a quick wash, with no laundry in for the first time, as per the instructions (which I had read in great detail might I add!)

I went back into the living room to chill out for an hour whilst it was on its first wash, but after about 20 minutes of deadly silence coming from the kitchen I went back in to investigate. The machine’s display was flashing red, with the words H and 20.

H-twenty, what the hell does that mean?

I read through the instructions again, that was not one of the display options and wasn’t covered in the trouble shooting section. So I googled it; the make, the model and ‘H-twenty’. Nothing. Puzzled, I turned the machine on and off, read the instructions again, text Steve and still couldn’t figure it out.

So I did the only thing I could think of, I rang my mum.

After a 30 minute conversation about her washing machine, my washing machine and jean* from down the road, I admitted defeat and decided I would just have to wait until Steve came home and he can look at it.

Later that day, my mum rang me back and asked if id managed to get it working. Nope, still nothing. I was ready to throw it out the window. No one on twitter had replied, no one on Facebook seemed to know what it meant. It must be faulty.

“Danielle, are you sure the water is turned on” she asked.

“Yes of course I am, I attached it straight away to the pipe and I’ve checked. I’m not stupid you know!”

“Ooh I dunno then, you’ll have to wait for Steve.”

And that is exactly what I did.

Now, I’m not exactly sure when it happened, but as soon as Steve walked through the door it dawned on me… it didn’t say H-twenty, it said H-2-0

It turns out; I’d attached the pipe to the water supply, but hadn’t turned it on after all. H-twenty wasn’t an error code; it was the chemical formula for water!

In my defence, it obviously is a very advanced technological washing machine and as I have said before – I have a degree in English Literature, not common sense!

*jean’s name has been changed to protect her identity!