Remembering the Anzacs at Gallipoli

Gallipoli is definitely a place everyone should visit once. Thousands of Aussies and Kiwis make the pilgrimage here for Anzac day each year to remember those who lost their lives during the first world war. But, at this time of year, things are definitely much quieter, giving you the chance to really get to grips with what took place here in 1915.

Anzac Cove, where the ill-fated Allied landing was made on 25 April 1915

There is so much to tell about this place ... more casualties on the Turkish side than all of the allied forces put together, German ships disguised as Turkish ships, botched landings, fateful tea breaks by the British and, of course, amazing stories of camaraderie between the Turks and the Anzacs fighting eight metres apart in the trenches. They were so close that a grenade could pass back and forth between them a number of times before it exploded. They could swap newspapers and cigarettes across the trenches, and sing to each other. In fact, when they were building one of the Turkish monuments, they found the bodies of two soldiers, still clinging to each other - one was Turkish, the other was British.

Australian forces captured the Turkish positions at Lone Pine on 6 August. The memorial remembers the 4000 soldiers who lost their lives in just a few days in this assault.

We stayed at Anzac House, which was cheap. But, if you've got a little more cash to splash, head to Maydos Hotel, owned by same company. It's right on the waterfront in Canukkale, and is a good spot to watch the Turkish families promenade each evening!

Forget the horse, head to the ancient ruins

Forget the horse at Troy. It sucks. Get a good local guide and head for the ruins hidden behind it. Over the years, nine ancient cities have been discovered at this site, built one on top of the other and dating back to 3000BC. Four of the cities were discovered by a German/Californian archeologist but unfortunaely he destroyed another three cities in the process. Still worth a look though. Just remember, you need a good guide to bring it to life.

Getting reacquainted ...

with the joys of squat toilets. Not something I was looking forward to at all based on my experiences in Egypt and Jordan but I knew it would have to happen at some point. Faced with a six hour bus journey from Istanbul to Cannakale with a full bladder or a couple of minutes in a filthy squattie, I knew what I had to do. On this particular day, luck was on my side - I was wearıng a skirt which makes the old squatty much easier to manouver. Others were not so lucky. Boys, let me just say, you will never understand the things us girls have to go through until you've been forced to take one leg out of your jeans, sling it over your shoulder (the leg of your jeans, not your leg of course), hold a packet of tissues under your chin and try to balance without touching any part of the filthy grimy walls. I'll leave it there, shall I?

The city to beat all cities

As far as first impressions go, Istanbul is hard to beat. Breakfast on the roof terrace of your hotel with views of the mighty Bosphorous strait, which divides Europe and Asia. A turkish coffee in the Grand Bazaar, a stroll through the busy market area of Tahtakale and the banter of the vendors in the chaotic Spice Bazaar. The permanent line of fisherman on the Galata Bridge. The unmistakable minarets and domes of the Blue Mosque and Ayasofya. The labrinyth of bars, restaurants and shops in Beyoglu. The kebaps, the turkish delight and the fish sandwiches cooked fresh by the harbour. The call to pray resounding from the mosques dotted throughout the city.

This city really has it all ... including an Irish pub which shows premiership football games with commentary in English. And Liverpool just happened to be playing. Yep, Carl wins again.

Ayasofya from the steps of the Blue Mosque

The enormous interior of Ayasofya

No shortage of shopping opportunities. If you can't find what you want, believe me, you aren't looking hard enough

The view from our roof terrace

We stayed at the Hanedan Hotel in Sultanahmet.

Surviving the Turkish scrum

The blue mosque at dusk

Arrived in istanbul late this afternoon. This place is absolutely buzzing because Ramadan (known as Ramazan in Turkey) finishes tomorrow. Should be a nice little party when its over and everyone gorges themselves after a month of fasting. Have just been out for a kepab and a few beers. Tomorrow, we will be kicking in doing some sightseeıng ... provided the kepab doesn't make a return appearance. Ate at a street stall, which is usually cardinal sin number one in countries like Turkey, but it looked so tasty!

So many people here and, let me tell you, if you think London tubes are rough, they have nothing on the metro in Istanbul. It's like a scrum. They don't even let you get off before they are hurlıng themselves aboard and running for the nearest chair. Its a dog eat dog world here. The English and their polite queuiıng rule be damned.

We stayed at Bahaus Guesthouse.

Top ten tips for surviving a trip with the olds

My top five

1. Stick your brother on tourist duties
2. Keep them slightly tipsy with homemade mid-afternoon mojitos
3. Introduce them to the traditional English pub quiz - that way you don't have to make small talk at the pub
4. Take them to all of your favourite restaurants and let them insist on paying
5. Agree with everything they say because they are always right

Mum's top five

1. Agree with everything they say because they are always right
2. Stay slightly tipsy with mid-afternoon mojitos
3. Don't offer to pay because they'll accept
4. Don't believe them when they tell you something is oly five minutes away. That's code for half an hour
5. Get in some quality time while you can

Waz, mum and I at Waxy O'Connors

Greenwich, Cambridge and other expeditions into the English pysche

You've got visitors and you can't leave stinktown? Don't fret, time to dust off the Britain Lonely Planet and do all those things you love doing in old Blightly, like eat and be merry, as well as those things you've always wanted to do but have been to hung over or lazy.

Mum and Gus arrived for a whirlwind tour about a week and a half ago, but I've got no visa. So we made the most of the good weather and treated them (and us) to some fun and games here. Including ...

Punting on the river Cam in Cambridge

V-fest, V-fest, V-fest: take two

I know, I know, it looks suspect. But Wazza isn't pregnant. He is, however, a man who will go to great lengths for his beer. At last year's V-Festival, we didn’t realize you weren’t able to take your own booze into the arena and were left completely broke by the cost of a pint at the bars. This year, though, Waz had come prepared. He had his own secret weapon and was determined to beat Virgin, the corporate monster, at its own game. The beer belly – not a real one – was filled with 6 pints of beer. And it worked … on the second try. Hehe. Love your work, Waz.

The other valuable lesson we learned from last year's V-fest was that you need to be prepared for all kinds of weather. As usual, the skies opened up while we were putting up our tents, turning the grounds into a muddy mess. Then five minutes later the sun came out. That means you should never EVER attempt to spend four days at a summer music festival without a pair of wellies (that's gumboots for us Aussies) ... and a hat. Hence the farmer joe attire.

None of that really matters though. Cause when you get down to it, the only thing that mattered at the V-festival this year was the music. Two days of awesome music. For Carl, the highlight was definitely Radiohead. Right up there was Beck, Gomez and the Glimmer Twins.

For me, it was Groove Armada and Paolo Nuitini (okay, and secretly the sugar babes but Donna liked them more).

We had a wicked weekend, clearly. But don't worry. I've found a way for you all to hear and see some of the tunes from the weekend. Click on the links below to view our videos:

Superstyling
The Beck puppet movie

To the manor borne

Wasn't entirely sure how our lungs would cope with the clean fresh country air after three and a half years of sucking up London smog, but we could not turn down a weekend at the Manor. Huge shout out to Emma and Tim for sharing their little slice of heaven with us for a couple of days. They are the latest in a long line of kiwis to work at the manor, a property just outside of Oxford. They planned to stay for six months but are still there more than a year later. And we can understand why.

Rufus and his mum go nuts on the croquet lawn. The former offices of the national trust are in the background. Not too shabby ...

The Manor house, a beautiful old stately home. Comes with its own church (and ghost, at least that's what they told us!), tennis court, maze, bat walk and the biggest and best fruit and veggie garden I ever seen!

One of the many canals throughout England runs just behind the property...

Walking home from the village pub

Crazy Ren and her party bus posse

It was the night that an old routemaster bus met its match. Fifty people. Pumping subs. And Renski. There could have been no better way to farewell Renski than the London party bus. A crazy, entirely lovable character who we're going to miss hugely when she goes home to New Zealand. From the granny who grooved to ABBA at Trafalgar Square to the cockney DJ and his (bus) pole dancing partner ... Renski, gave us a night we'll never forget. Here are just a few of the photos Waz took on the night!

We were dubious at first but soon found our party bus groove!

Too risky to stand and boogie ...

Proof that those boys are good for something ... modeling our handbags!

The party girl takes her rightful position, above the crowd, in the DJ box!