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The Howard's 40th Anniversary Tour


View The Howards' 40th Anniversary Tour 2017 on Grete Howard's travel map.

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“It has to be a safari,” David stated without hesitation when I asked him a while back where he would like to celebrate our Ruby wedding anniversary. Seeing as photographing animals in their natural habitat is one of my favourite pastimes, I didn’t need any encouragement or persuasion; and immediately booked a couple of flights. Tanzania it is then.

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Where have those 40 years gone? It doesn’t seem that long ago that a starry eyed teenager met a fancy man with an even fancier car who whisked her off to a fancy dinner at the Post Office Tower in London for her 17th birthday.

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And the rest is history as they say.

Here's a few pictures of our journey together through 40 years of marriage:

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On a Mediterranean cruise 1984

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Having fun in a photobooth 1979

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In a friend's cabin in Lillehammer 1976

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At a friend's wedding 1982

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1975

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In our first home, 1977

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In Amish County, USA 2000

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Having fun in a safari park 2013

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Celebrating Christmas camping in Taberma Valley, Togo 2006

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Goa 2003

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Sea Trek, Jamaica 2004

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Gyatsola Pass, Tibet 2005

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Celebrating the Indian festival of colours, Jaipur 2014

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Hong Kong 2010

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Collecting ice for my nightcap, Antarctica 2004

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Tobago 2012

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Sydney Harbour Bridge Climb 2002

40 years of marriage, 40 years of shared fun, 40 years of travel, to all corners of the earth and some of the world’s most amazing places.

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Not only will we be celebrating our 40th anniversary on this holiday, it will also be our 200th trip abroad together (making an average of 5 foreign trips every year of marriage - plus another 100+ domestic trips).

Travel is a humbling experience. I consider myself extremely privileged to be able to indulge my obsession to the extent I do. I am fortunate that I can experience the way of life of other civilisations and I regard it as an honour to be invited to learn about their traditions and customs. Travel has a way of making me feel blessed – not just because I can see for myself all these far-flung exotic destinations, but also because it makes me appreciate what I have back home. I am the luckiest girl alive: being married to the best travel companion anyone could wish for.

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We have been lucky enough to visit 138 countries on all seven continents (148 if you count East Germany, Macau and Hong Kong (all countries in their own right when we visited), Tahiti, Tibet, Palestine, Antarctica, Martinique, Greenland and Transdniestr).

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We are often asked if we have a favourite country. Much as we love almost every place we have been to, there are two countries that stick their head above all the others for us: India and Tanzania.

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So here we are, jetting off on yet another African adventure.

The Tanzanian visa caused me a few moment of concern this year. Following the Brexit Vote, they appear to have changed the wording on their website:

”A Photocopy of Residence Permit or Visa (is required) for non-British and EU countries passport holders”

Having lived in this country for 43½ years, and married to a Brit for 40 of those, I do not have a Residency Permit, nor do I require one. Hopefully the Tanzanian High Commission would be aware of that too, but just in case they were not, I enclosed a screen shot of the gov.org website confirming that I have Infinite Leave to Remain.

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Thankfully the visa came back without any issues, and as always with the Embassy of Tanzania, very quickly.

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Having stayed overnight just a few miles away, the idea was to arrive at Birmingham Airport refreshed and raring to go for our flight to Kilimanjaro Airport via Istanbul.

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There is plenty of legroom on the flight, the food is good and we soon find ourselves arriving in Tanzania.

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Plenty of legroom

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Istanbul from the air

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Tasty pasta and a chocolate mousse to die for.

As we exit the baggage claim at Kilimanjaro airport, we spot a smiling gentleman holding a welcoming sign bearing the word GRETE. That'll be me then.

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Kia Lodge is the official airport hotel for Kilimanjaro, and as such is within the grounds of the airport, a mere five minute drive away. This is not your average airport hotel though, Kia Lodge is a series of rondavels laid out in lush grounds, more akin to a safari lodge.

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After a very welcoming welcome drink, we are shown to our room and collapse in bed. It is 2am, and we are meeting Tillya and Malisa at 8am.

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This amazing adventure was made possible thanks to Calabash African Adventures.

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Posted by Grete Howard 23:24 Archived in Tanzania Tagged wedding history travel flight istanbul anniversary holiday africa safari tanzania journey airline nostalgia turkish_airlines birmingham_airport kilimanjaro_aiport Comments (4)

Istanbul - Cairo

Arabia Felix - Yemen 1997


View Arabia Felix - Yemen 2007 on Grete Howard's travel map.

At least today should be less eventful than yesterday. A nice mini-bus turns up as arranged to take us back to the now very familiar Istanbul airport. After some confusion about where we check in, we finally have our boarding cards in hand and are now on our way to Sana’a yet again. It looks like it paid off that I remained calm and friendly to the girl on the Transfer Desk yesterday, as she’s upgraded us to Business Class. The special lounge with complimentary food and drink is very welcome prior to our flight.

In Cairo the Transfer Desk is unmanned, so we hang around loitering for a while, until we are taken by bus to another terminal building. After the X-ray and security check, our passports and tickets are taken from us and we are told to sit and wait. We do as we’re told. Some two hours later, I inquire about our tickets, and they are produced from under the counter.

Once we have our boarding cards, I send a text message to Emad to confirm our arrival time, and he replies with the good news that he has changed the group flight to 06:00 so that we can all travel together.

We use our unplanned – and unwanted – time here in Cairo to visit a cafeteria called Cinnabon, where buns filled with cinnamon (funny that!) are heated up and iced. Total deliciousness. (postscript: these have become quite an addiction for me since then, and an absolute must when we travel as thankfully they do not have an outlet near us in Bristol.)

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Things are looking much brighter now, at least until we get to the gate in Cairo for our flight to Sana’a and read the sign: ‘No liquids to be taken on board’. There goes the three litres of Duty Free from London! This is particularly annoying as Yemen is a dry country, although as a non-Muslin we can bring in a 'reasonable amount' of alcohol for our own consumption, but we will be unable to buy any over there. We were hoping to have a little something to help us celebrate Christmas and New Year.

Feigning total ignorance, David sends his bag first through the X-Ray scanner. They discover his water and can of Coke and ask him to remove it. This is where I know our luck has turned and David seizes the moment to makes a bit of a fuss. As they turn to explain where he can dispose of his liquids, the officials temporarily take their eyes off the screen and miss my bag going through with all the alcohol in it. We are through and so is the Duty Free!

The catalogue of errors is to continue though, with the transfer bus taking us to the wrong plane. After waiting in the bus for some ten minutes for instructions from the authorities, we are finally delivered safely to the correct aircraft. The rest of the journey is uneventful and we are finally on our way to Sana'a.

Posted by Grete Howard 12:53 Archived in Egypt Tagged travel flight airport istanbul christmas security cairo yemen alcohol new_year airline turkish_airlines duty_free airport_security Comments (1)

London - Istanbul

Arabia Felix - Yemen December 1997


View Arabia Felix - Yemen 2007 on Grete Howard's travel map.

Yemen has attracted me for a number of years, and I was excited about finally going. Although I knew about the dangers of kidnapping, and had spoken to people who’d been kidnapped there and released unharmed, I was not prepared for the devastating news that blazed out across my TV screen. A group of tourists (travelling on the same tour as we have booked on, with the same company) had been kidnapped and in the mêlée that followed (otherwise known as a botched release attempt by the army) six of the tourists were killed. Our trip was cancelled and Yemen was once again closed to tourism. The year was 1999.

Fast forward to the year 2007, and I am yet again excited about going to Yemen. The tour I have picked looks perfect, almost the same as the ill-fated journey back in 1999 (not the same company though). The flights are not ideal, however, flying out of Stanstead and back into Heathrow, so I am delighted when Turkish Airlines inform us that they have changed their flight schedule and are now flying out of Heathrow too. We are told to arrive a little early at Heathrow airport to re-validate the tickets at the Turkish Airlines ticket counter. When we get there, however, they are less than helpful, insisting that we pay £80 to change airports. Our insistent protests that it was in fact them, not us, who changed the departure point, finally pay off as the official checks and re-checks his computer and liaises with a colleague. The first hurdle is over and we are one step nearer Yemen.

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One small step. As we queue to check in, we hear rumours that the flight is delayed, and some passengers are taken out of the line to have their itineraries rearranged as they are likely to miss their connection in Istanbul. We are reassured that it will not affect us, however. The delay is said to be less than an hour, and we have a generous three hours in transit at Istanbul.

We finally board the plane nearly two hours late, but still hopeful for the connection at Istanbul. The hope slowly peters away as we sit on the runway for another hour before taking off. There is still a glimmer of hope, as we have known flights to wait for connecting passengers, and anyway, I am a glass-half-full sort of girl.

The glimmer of hope stays lit as we exit the plane in Istanbul and there are officials waiting to take passengers to connecting flights. I ask hopefully about Sana’a. “Transfer Desk”, is the answer. We do as we're told. The glimmer fades, but it reignited as we spot the Departures Board: ‘Last Call’ against the Sana’a flight. I jump the queue at the Transfer Desk and wave my boarding card at the girl, “Can we go straight to the gate?” All hope dies as she tells me the flight has departed and we have missed it.

We are not alone, there is a lone chap also wanting to go to Sana’a, as well as a large group of people who missed their connecting flight to Northern Cyprus. A smattering of other lost souls joins the party. A number of people are getting very irate and a lot of shouting and swearing is taking place. I remain calm; taking it out on the girl at the Transfer Desk will not help anyone and is grossly unfair. Anyway, I can’t be bothered to waste energy on being angry.

The next flight to Sana’a is on Monday – two days' time. We explain that we have a domestic flight within Yemen that day, and really need to get there before then. She takes our tickets and asks us to sit down. We do as we’re told. After some time, she returns with a possible flight for us. It would mean flying to Jeddah later that evening; with a twelve hour layover at Jeddah (at least there will be no chance of missing that connection!), arriving in Sana’a Sunday afternoon at 16:00. Not ideal, but the best we can hope for. I ring Emad, the tour leader in Yemen, and explain. He promises to be at Sana'a airport to pick us up.

Turkish Airlines arrange for our luggage to be transferred to the Jeddah flight, and armed with new boarding cards, we head for the gate. As she checks our passports against the boarding cards, the official asks: “Where’s your visa?” We explain the situation and she then follows up: “How long is your transfer time in Jeddah?” That’s when the devastating blow comes: the maximum layover time allowed in KSA is eight hours. The official refers to her supervisor, who goes off with our passports and boarding cards to telephone the immigration office in Jeddah to plead our case, but to no avail. Our luggage has to be offloaded from the plane, and we are back to square one.

“Remember us?” I ask at the Transfer Desk. The girl smiles as she recognises us, then her face falls as she realises the implications of us being there again. We know the drill now: hand over our tickets and go and sit down. We do as we’re told. We pass the time chatting to another couple in a similar same situation, but with an added complication – they have been offered a flight the next day, but they cannot leave the airport as she is travelling on a South African passport and is not permitted to buy a visa for Turkey at the airport.

Another solution has been found for us, and while the now-familiar girl goes off to arrange the necessary paperwork, we again phone Emad. This time we’ll be flying via Cairo, arriving in Sana’a at 02:00 on Monday morning. Emad is a little concerned, as our flight to Seyun leaves Sana’a at 04:00. In his own reassuring way he tells us not to worry, he’ll sort something out. We do as we're told.

Armed with Turkish visas, we follow another official to another office on another floor. This airport is becoming increasingly familiar. They take our onward and return tickets, as well as our passports, and tell us to sit down and wait. We do as we’re told. All we have now is a piece of paper with a handwritten note to say what flight we’re on the next day and where our tickets will be collected from. No name, no signature, no receipt for our tickets or passports.

After spending six hours at Istanbul airport, we are finally in possession of our onward tickets (and passports) – reissued along with the return tickets, and we find ourselves in a comfortable mini-bus on the way to a hotel in Istanbul for overnight. The airline is paying for full board at the five-star hotel, but the restaurant is now closed for the night. They send us some unappetising dry sandwiches, so we order room service at our own cost: Spanish Omelette and a Kebab with some water and Coke. The bill is $74. Yikes. No credit card, only cash on delivery.

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We break into the Duty Free alcohol and sleep well, hoping to wake afresh and ready to face the world tomorrow.

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Posted by Grete Howard 04:01 Archived in Turkey Tagged flight turkey istanbul heathrow layover delays transfer turkish_airways stanstead diasters Comments (0)

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