Lobster legs, picnic and pizza

Yesterday was notable for two things. First, I got sunburnt. And I don't mean a bit pink, I mean glowingly, stingingly, redly sunburnt. This is practically unheard of; like the sensible (fair-skinned) person I am, I am very careful in the sun, to the extent that Kevin teases me that I never get a tan because I use too much high factor sun cream. But yesterday, that all went out of the window and last night I went to bed with sore shins and sore arms.

I think a contributing factor was the second notable aspect of yesterday: meeting a lovely family of four: Richard, Catherine and their daughters Lottie (10) and Libby (7). They arrived at our campsite yesterday morning - one of the very few English vans we've seen - and we got talking on the beach (Jemima and Kevin went down there in the morning while I did some washing, then I joined them). The girls started playing brilliantly with Jemima, and the next thing we'd decided to pool our lunch stores for a picnic and happy (if overly sun-soaked, in my case) afternoon on the beach.

It was very merry: the girls had endless amounts of fun with the sand and the sea, Jemima in heaven having these two big girls playing with her, even venturing in for a chilly swim at one point which she is never brave enough to do with me. And we grown ups ate, drank, chatted and laughed, swapping stories and sharing the joy of the motorhoming life (too busy, in my case, doing all of that to use the appropriate amount of suncream). They are intrepid, taking a year off to travel around Europe: this was the mid point of the second leg, with France and Spain done; Croatia and Slovenia to come this leg; and Scandinavia over the summer.

It turns out we could have met various times over the last year or so: we were in Florida at a similar time a year ago; both in Spain motorhoming last autumn; and now in Italy. They even lived in Suffolk a few years ago (this might explain why Catherine and I had a strange feeling we'd met before, but couldn't quite pinpoint the moment). And we also have the same (presumably universal) motorhoming arguments: driver to navigator, "why I am now driving down tiny one way streets?!"; and, when helping reverse, "you are standing where I can't see you in the mirror!"...

After a very jolly afternoon, I retired to the van to finish the washing, with three little elves offering to help which was great (or rather two older elves and a following Jemima - those girls were so lovely, and beautifully behaved). Then there was a bit of shared Paw Patrol viewing, which was enjoyed by all, before the evening's entertainment: making pizza.

Richard is blogging their journey like me, but with much more professional results (see lifeinavan.com); and rather wonderfully, Lottie and Libby have their own blog too, which includes a bakery section: yes, they bake in their motorhome. Amazing. (I brought a brownie tin around Spain and made nothing.) So again we pooled our ingredients (our sun dried tomatoes and basil with their pizza and focaccia bases and olives), and the girls made pizza.

Jemima was in heaven: ladling passata! Painting olive oil! Kevin was nervous: so much potential for mess... But Richard was gently guiding proceedings, and it was accomplished without mishap. Catherine was in the kitchen doing the difficult task of juggling hot things in a tiny space (I got off lightly, making a salad with Libby); and before long, we were all sitting down to some extremely tasty pizza. Some more chatting, then we prised a tearful Jemima away ("I want to sleep here!") and retired to bed.

A very successful baking session, at the end of a very lovely, unexpected day. It was even worth the sunburn.

PS Richard can do all sorts of exciting hyperlinks but I am not quite so technologically minded, so here, hopefully are the links to Richard, Lottie and Libby's records of the day:

http://www.lifeinourvan.com/our-blog/soaking-up-the-sun-in-taormina-with-new-friends

http://lottieandlibbyadventure.weebly.com

(I'm struggling to upload photos yet as we've run out of data, so you can look at theirs in the meantime! Hopefully I'll be able to put ours up later.)

Jemima and I on the beach:

Beatrix with a view:

Jemima making herself comfortable with Lottie:

Jemima, Lottie and Libby:

Pizza making!:

Richard supervising the Parmesan:

A fond farewell:

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

Campsite calm

We had a disturbed night: we tried putting Jemima to sleep in the overcab bed, but she was awake for ages (possibly exacerbated by her late nap); so we all had a lie in this morning, and a lazy day. 

Morning: lying in bed, playing in the playground (from which Jemima returned bloody, having fallen over - but she was fine quickly, just telling everyone we saw about the holes in her lip). Then a little trip to the supermarket, and barbecued steaks in the sunshine with - taking lessons from our former Italian camp mates,  most of whom have gone home now, leaving the campsite quiet - red peppers and artichokes on the grill too; the former being delicious, the latter not really worth it, but maybe we did it wrong.

Then some visitors: I'd asked the friendly owner to find someone to fit our new DVD player, and two nice men arrived to sort it out. After some effort, they and Kevin basically agreed the new one didn't work either; but after more effort, and my tweezers, they managed to open the old one and extract the paper. We have TV again! And a promise from Jemima not to post anything else in the slot...

Afternoon: some washing; a bike ride for Jemima and Kevin; a cup of tea in the sun for me; dinner; and some Game of Thrones on our TV again, hurrah!

It's been lovely staying in one place for a few days; and it's been lovely having a peaceful day.

Injured:

Lunch:

Tea:

 

 

Tourists in Taormina

Yesterday we were Sightseeing. I was up early to test the campsite showers - a new experience with tokens, which meant the water ran out just as I was covered with soap and had to rinse off in the non-tokened cold shower next door. Bracing. But it was a beautiful morning, our first day of clear blue sky, and some yoga with a sea view warned me up.

After all the late nights, Jemima slept late, so we decided on the 12.15 bus to Taormina rather than the 10.15. I had a lovely unexpected hour in the sun reading Robert Harris' first Cicero book about his prosecution of a former governor of Sicily for extortion - brilliant, and great reading about Roman Sicily while sitting on a Sicilian beach. Then we headed off for the bus.

It nearly all went wrong. We were at the bus stop in good time, and had even worked out which side of the road to stand on; but I was expecting the bus from the other direction (as if we were in the UK, left hand side of the road). So at 12.05, we let a bus go straight past us. And the next one wasn't until 17.15. A few minutes of agonising followed, and then the bus reappeared from a side street - at 12.15. I ran out in the road, waving wildly, and he stopped, then confirmed he was indeed the bus to Taormina. Hardly able to believe our luck, we piled on. 

We had the bus (coach really) to ourselves. It was a spectacular journey winding up and down the mountain, with that carefree but safe driving you get when a coach driver knows the road. (Kevin was impressed enough to google 'good driver' in Italian, and was also very jealous of the air suspension: we floated over the potholes.) After a stunning drive through Mazzaro (the beach at the bottom of the hill), we arrived in Taormina.

After the splendid isolation of the journey, we were suddenly surrounded by people. We'd heard Taormina was busy, and my goodness it is. We promenaded (along with hundreds of others) along the picturesque main street lined with baroque buildings with that faded glamour of hot climates, in a sea of other people. There was only one walking pace, that of the people in front. But the town was beautiful despite this, with stunning views over the bay, and an amazing mix of architecture from across literally millennia.

We lunched on ham and cheese toasties in the cathedral square (it was tourist traps or hugely expensive options only); then had possibly the best chocolate gelato ever: weirdly solid, on a stick in the shape of a lolly, but SO good. Then an amble to Taormina's treasure, its ancient amphitheatre with Mount Etna as its backdrop.

It was great. Surprisingly fewer people here viewing than shopping in the centre - or maybe it could just absorb the numbers (it used to seat 5000 Greeks, then Romans). Kevin and Jemima looked for lizards while I communed with the past; we sat in various spots admiring the view; then Jemima unwittingly brought improvisation back into the space by getting out her Paw Patrol pup toys for a game. Then, as Jemima fell asleep, we headed back down the hill for a wander in the pretty, shaded Public Gardens (designed by an Englishwoman in the 19th century) before the bus home.  

It had been a fun day, but there was a final unexpected frolic: we arrived back at the campsite to find a farewell party underway in the bar. So Jemima and I hit the dance floor for a boogie. When Kevin wanted to retire for a rest, Jemima said she wanted to stay "at the disco", so we did. We danced; she danced with merry Italian campers; and then she was asked to choose the winning ticket for the Easter campsite raffle (bravely standing on a table and saying "fifty" loudly into a microphone). She was rewarded with a chocolate egg, which went down very well. 

Then back to the motorhome for dinner and bed. A busy day.

Family selfie overlooking Taormina bay:

Tourists in Taormina:

The amphitheatre:

Mount Etna hidden by cloud in the background: 

Jemima:

 
 

 

 

 

The joy of lunch

There is a serious risk that the majority of this blog will be about food. I love food; I love eating with my loved ones; I love being in welcoming restaurants; and I love drinking wine with good food. The opportunities to do all of these in Italy are great; and so far in Sicily, to do these while eating wonderful fish, are even greater.

But first, of course, for Easter Sunday, it was chocolate for breakfast. Then a morning of lounging about and playing, enjoying the sunshine, which had finally arrived properly (I sleep right next to the windscreen, and I could feel warmth coming off it when I woke up: a good sign for the day to come). Then we walked into the local town for lunch. There was a real chance that nowhere would be open; it was certainly quiet on the streets. But Kevin did some googling and we headed along the sea front in hope.

It was a glorious walk between the clear, dark blue sea on one side and the lush mountains on the other, looming over the town. The sun was warm - despite the fresh wind, I was happy with bare arms (and experienced the extraordinary situation where I was the person around with the fewest clothes on - normally I'm in at least two layers more than those around me, but the Sicilians, used to 40 degrees, were still in coats). It felt like holiday.

We walked right to the other end of the town, passing only closed restaurants, and our doubts grew. But when we found the restaurant on a side street, it was, miraculously, open. And it was wonderful: a lovely welcome; a few other tables of friendly Italian families, who all seemed to know each other; and lots of help with the specials and local white wine to go with them (including showing us the fish we were going to eat, which Jemima enjoyed).

Jemima had little grilled red local fish and Kevin had seafood pasta and another local grilled fish, while I had a Sicilian version of sashimi on a slate with nuts and flowers, and the biggest oyster I've ever seen. (It was all spectacular, apart from a heap of something tendril-y called neonata (newborns) which I did struggle with.) Then I had another local fish with mussels in a sort of tomatoey broth, which I said to Kevin was one of my best meals ever. Then more local specialities for dessert. The only non-local aspect was my mint tea, which I had to explain to them and caused some consternation.

While Kevin and I indulged, Jemima was making friends with a four year old called Carol: at one point they sat together at another table both drawing quietly; then we shared our Acorn Wood sticker book, swapping English and Italian names for the animals. It was so relaxed, no worries about upsetting other diners, because every table had children. The whole experience took about three hours; one of my favourite ways to spend time.

Back to the Beatrix, a nap for Jemima and sitting in the sun for Kevin and I. Then a quiet evening, and a very small dinner. Today was basically all about lunch, and it was lovely. 

PS now that the wifi is working again, I'm going to try to add a few photos to this post. (I'll also put all the maps in the previous posts tonight - I'll try to add some photos too, but not tonight.)

Morning sun:

 Happy Easter!:

Walking to lunch along the seafront at Sant'Alessio Siculo:

Lunch at Accabanna:

My Sicilian sushi:

Jemima and Carol:

Sant'Alessio Siculo:

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rubbish roads and a warm welcome

It's been a slow start to our trip: a long drive and various days of sorting things out, punctuated by the odd glimmer of exploration and fun (and great food). The weather hasn't helped: the sun was out in the Alps, then started promising spring in Florence, but got decidedly worse after that; and Sicily has been pretty rainy so far. But today, we woke up with a view of trees and sea in the sunshine. And we decided to leave our remaining technical problems to be solved another day. We were off!

The choice was simple: from this NE corner it was either west or south. On the basis that southwards included Etna, and we'd lured Jemima to Sicily on the promise of a volcano, we headed there. Sicily is blessed with beautiful scenery, but scarred by awful roads: plentiful potholes and bumps that build to give me a headache, and make Kevin grumpy. "They ought to be ashamed! This is the worst road I've ever driven on!"

This was compounded by us trying to park near Taormina: a hillside town with tiny switchback roads and a park and ride system that promises a place for motorhomes, somewhere, but we couldn't find it. Some frustrated circling/ turning/ reversing later, we reverted to Plan B, and retreated to a nearby campsite.

This turned out to be an excellent idea. It was full of Italians barbecuing, with more motorhomes arriving every minute: we had happened upon an Easter getaway site. And it was great: kids running around; people eating and drinking and gesticulating; the most friendly welcome we've ever had, and a pitch overlooking the bay. Beautiful.

A restful afternoon; then pizza delivery to the campsite (so inferior to our neighbours' barbecued prawns, pork, artichokes and peppers, but never mind, it worked for us). And then then the big event: we'd been warned at arrival that there was going to be music tonight - Saturday night of Easter weekend and all. Far from being concerned, we warmed up for it with family dancing to Stevie Wonder in the van. Then we hit the disco.

It was still early, so it was mainly kiddies (one of whom, it turned out, rather impressively, was the DJ at this stage of the evening). But this was perfect for Jemima who cavorted around the dance floor with glee, exclaiming, "the children! The children!". Over time, as their festive dinners finished, more revellers arrived. And then we experienced a disco Italian style. Kevin said, "it's like the Macarena", as the whole dance floor, in a circle, performed the same routine. And then they did it again (although a different routine) to the next song. Slightly weird to start with, but they - old men, mums, twenty year olds and tweenagers - were all loving it, so it was actually lots of fun to watch. Then the music returned to normal (cheesy disco), so Jemima and I danced, Kevin and I danced, we all danced together, and Jemima danced with her new Italian friends.

And then the climax to the evening: we had been promised 'entertainment', but no clue of what. And it turned out to be a woman in a space Valkyrie outfit that lit up, doing tricks with various lit up things: hula hoops, fan shapes, balls with scarves attached. It was great, really visually impressive, and she even said "Buona Pasqua" (Happy Easter) and "Grazie" in the air with whirling lit up batons at the end.

By this time I had thoroughly enjoyed my €2 a glass local red wine, and Jemima was flaking, so we headed home, to sleep to the strains of the Grease mega mix and Rhythm is a Dancer floating across Sicily's Ionian coast. Brilliant.

Milazzo to Sant'Alessio Siculo:

 

Risoluzione di problemi

Last trip, I found I enjoyed an unexpected aspect of the motorhoming life: the sense of shared purpose as Kevin and I worked together to solve various problems (from finding a new battery; to where we were going to sleep that night; to how to park closest to the beach).

Yesterday we had three technical problems to solve: the DVD player with paper stuck in it; the wifi thingy that doesn't work any more; and the lack of an electrical hook up cable (which we managed to forget at home). Plus finding the source of a funny smell that had surfaced that morning. By the end of the day, after some of our Laurel and Hardy comedy (eg driving to places that didn't exist or were closed; or going back to the same place twice without realising); plus me working very hard on my Italian for directions and strange new technical vocabulary (lots of fun!); we had solved two and a half of them: the funny smell was gone (the waste water tank needed chemicals); the wifi thingy was working (well done Kevin); and we had bought a new CD/ DVD player, but it still needed installing. Only the cable was unsolved. But as we wild camped near the port last night, that didn't matter. And we did get to know the industrial/ commercial sectors of north-east Sicily quite well...

Then our last (pleasant) problem of the day: dinner. We walked from our night spot with a lovely view on the seafront into the main town, and found a restaurant on a side street that looked promising. And then had a spectacular meal: mussels, calamari, fish fillet in a delicious crust, spaghetti with clams, tomato and mozzarella, and griddled vegetables. Jemima did a little dance because she was enjoying the fish and calamari so much. We strolled home, full and happy.

Then one extra problem arose: Friday night in Milazzo. It just got too noisy, so Kevin moved us in the dead of night from the town to a car park at the very end of the isthmus. We went to bed with no real idea where we were, other than it was blissfully quiet. Problem solved.

Marinello to Milazzo:

 

Tomatoes and gelatos

The sun was out this morning, and we weren't driving anywhere. Instead we got the bikes out (on Jemima's suggestion: "I like a bike ride!"), and cycled to the slightly bigger town of Oliveri just along the coast. The sea was blue and the mountains green today rather than all grey, and the sun was warm on our arms - we were in T shirts (although I regretted this once we'd started cycling: the breeze was still fresh).

The town had more life than our beach resort, plus some great Sicilian/ Italian stereotypes: leathery tanned old men chatting on benches in the sunshine; an old lady in black surveying the square outside from her window. It also had three fishmongers in a tiny town - a good omen. We bought some bread and wonderful tomatoes, and rode home to eat them in the sun with avocados, olive oil and cheese.

Then a restful afternoon, including reading and game playing, followed by a return trip to town to finish some errands - in Beatrix this time as the rain was back. Gelato in an Oscars-of-ice-cream-winning gelateria (and it was good), then back home and bed. A recuperative day.

Rain, roadworks and (a)rrival

My, how it rained, and thundered, and lightninged. All through the night (starting as an atmospheric pattering on the fibreglass roof, growing to a sleep-preventing battering); and all morning as we got up, and set off.

The start of the drive wasn't much fun: the visibility was appalling because of the weather, and it seems the road south is being improved because it was mostly one long roadwork. A huge amount of money must be being spent because it involves cutting new tunnels through hillsides and new bridges flying across gorges; if we could have seen anything other than rain and cloud, I reckon the views would have been glorious. But we finally got to Italy's toe; and after a short car ferry hop across its Straits, we arrived in Sicily. It was still raining, and the roadworks had come with us (these were the worst roads so far); but at least it was only a short drive to our chosen starting campsite right on a north shore beach.

It certainly feels early season: there are very few people here, and in what is clearly a summer beach resort, most things are closed. But the landscape is beautiful; the beach was still fun for Jemima (even in this weather); and we had a truly delicious mixed seafood platter in the only open restaurant. Good food and wine, as usual, are enough to make me happy; and weirdly, I do enjoy the cosiness of motorhome life in this weather (although this was tested when we got back to Beatrix to realise Jemima had posted a piece of paper into the CD/DVD player slot - no Game of Thrones tonight).

And so to bed, to even more rain. Fingers crossed Kevin hasn't driven 1700 miles for this. But the forecast for tomorrow is better; there are no more massive driving stints required; and we have Sicily to explore (as well as a CD/DVD player to fix)...

Sala Consolina Ovest to Marinello, Sicily (it took a lot longer because of the weather):

 

Driving eating driving sleeping

I was asleep by 9pm last night, so no blog, sorry. Poor Jemima hasn't been very well - she has developed a terrible cough and cold, and had an awful night's sleep the night before (and consequently so did I - she kept calling for me, half asleep, so in the end I moved into the back, which at least meant I didn't have to clamber over Kevin each time, but didn't result in a restful night). And I'm sure hours of driving each day isn't much fun for her - she's very patient, and there's book reading and playing and nap time, and a bit of TV towards the end of the day, but it must still be a strain. 

I think all this driving is fairly hard work for Kevin as well. Driving Beatrix requires more constant adjustment than a car, which is wearing, especially when it's windy; and motorways are really boring. And it is a very long way.

BUT... we are making inroads into Italy. The trees are sprinkled with young green leaves, and pink blossom, and I didn't wear any socks today - a sure sign of spring. And Italy is glorious (despite the overly carefree driving, a stereotype we are finding to be true). We stayed on a campsite on the edge of Florence last night, and as we got closer Kevin and I played "spot the Tuscan view". There were many: undulating hills, dark spires of cypresses, and golden red-roofed buildings (and a cement works which looked picturesque from a distance...). And there was even a Tuscan view from our overnight pitch: a pretty yellow and white church with a bell tower, on a hilltop, surrounded by trees, overlooking the campsite.

It was good to be in a campsite for a night: proper Italian pasta in the restaurant (where we were the sole guests - it's only been open for a week this season); a deserted, overgrown play area for Jemima, which still provided a lot of fun and exertion after hours of sitting; long, hot showers; and proper electricity to charge the various appliances (including the mini Dyson - I will beat the sand this trip...). We all had a good night's sleep and Jemima seems much better today.

And then on the road again. More driving; lunch in a service station (lovely prosciutto, mozzarella, tomato and olive salad, I do love Italy); more driving; and then our night stop: a quiet service station on the edge of a small town in what looks (through the twilight) like a much more rugged and deserted part of Italy. More of the same tomorrow, but if all goes well, we'll be sleeping in Sicily tomorrow night! And these driving days will be over, and the real trip will begin.

One final point: I am really struggling with Internet access to do my blog this trip. Apparently we're being 'throttled' because we use too much data, so uploading text is ok but photos are proving challenging. Plus my blogger app has crashed and it won't let me download it again. Anyway, if there is wifi at any point I will do what I can, but what this basically means is don't expect many/ any photos or maps; it will be mainly text only I'm afraid.

Yesterday: Chatillon to Bottai (near Florence):

Today: Bottai to Sala Consilina Ovest (not near anywhere! But sort of on the front ankle of Italy's boot):

 

Alpine adventures, and Italy!

St-Gervais-les-Bains was even more charming in the daylight, when you could see the encircling sunny, snowy mountains, and the river in the gorge below that we could only hear at night. And the cafe and boulangerie we found at the entrance to our car park was a bonus - we bought pains au chocolat in the one, and ate them in the other, in the fresh sunshine. 

After a walk around the town and a stop off in the Tourist Office play area, Jemima snoozed early after her late night, so Kevin and I made the most of it with an al fresco lunch in the main square, surrounded by French families. Then Kevin and Jemima headed up the mountain in a cable car for the main event: playing in the snow! There was snowman building and sliding down hills and sitting in deckchairs on a mountain top: proper Alpine fun. (I wimped out due to my cable car fear; I drank hot chocolates in the sunshine in the town instead, one of my favourite mountain experiences.) 

And then we were off again. Only half an hour later, after the lengthy Mont Blanc tunnel, we emerged in Italy! And it doesn't feel like that long since we left the UK. A spot en route for the night, then dinner in Beatrix, and I'm ready to practice my first Italian tomorrow. Goodbye snow, ciao Italia!

(I can't add photos for some reason, will do it tomorrow. In the meantime, we are in a place called Chatillon.)

St-Gervais-les-Bains to Chatillon:

 

Snow!

We woke up in the flatlands of central France; by bedtime, we were in the mountains. Kevin as usual took charge of the driving; my role was to amuse Jemima. (By nap time I was feeling a bit tired of "Mummy, can you...". So we both had a little snooze - I think driving might sometimes be less work.) 

When I surfaced, the landscape had noticeably changed, with hills surrounding flat sunny grassy fields, and pockets of snow surviving on the shady fringes of pine forests. Jemima and Kevin played spot the snow on the mountains as we gradually climbed them. 

We found the snow, but little else, in a car park aire on the outskirts of Chamonix; then, after tea, dark falling, decided to press on to somewhere with more life. The small town of St-Gervais-des-Bains was half an hour away, and worth the dusk drive around hairpin mountain bends: pretty candelabra street lights; amazing shops with charcuterie and cheese; wood panelled restaurants (all full of apres skiers); and general alpine charm. And we had fondue for dinner - brilliant. Another chance discovery that we will remember fondly.

Mont-de-Billy to St-Gervais-des-Bains (not including our Chamonix detour):

Champagne lifestyle

We are starting our trip in style: a service station car park alongside the A4 just past Reims. Beatrix shakes when lorries thunder past: our least salubrious stopover by far. But it's (definitely) not off our route, and has a cafe, so is good enough for tonight! 

It's been a straightforward first day of driving so far, (although even easier for me to say that as I wasn't driving - thank you for all your hard work Kevin...). But we've made good progress, and even have a vague route worked out. And unlike our first night on the last trip, nothing major has gone wrong (although there were a few anxious moments when we couldn't remember how to restart the gas). 

It is still lovely to be back in Beatrix - I feel very happy (notwithstanding our setting - with the blinds up, you could be anywhere...); and even enjoyed doing the washing up in our tiny sink.

And tomorrow we're going to find the snow.

Reading on the eurotunnel crossing:

Our resting place (you can a see a car transporter whizzing past on the other side of the wall):

Horringer to Mont-de-Billy:

Beatrix pottering redux

"I love the motorhome!", says Jemima as we set off. Well that's good, because after three and a half months of house-living, we're back in Beatrix. And Jemima is not the only jolly one - we all feel good to be on the road again. 

Differences to the last trip:

- Italy rather than France and Spain, for six weeks rather than two months;

- a lot less stuff packed in Beatrix - and Kevin has had sole control of the rear garage, which has made him happy (I've had the other lockers which works well for me too);

- and most noticeably, we are not heading off into the unknown: Beatrix, and how we live and travel in her, is reassuringly familiar. So despite the inevitable packing palaver, I am significantly less stressed than this time last trip. Even to the point that I have no idea where we're stopping tonight, or even how we're planning to get to Italy: Kevin has promised Jemima we'll make a snowman so it will be via the Alps somehow. And I'm not worried! The marvels of having a moveable home: adventure for Kevin, security for me, and hopefully both for Jemima.

And it's lovely to be blogging again.

Settling back into our usual places: