Name: Isabel Warrington
Age: 43
Occupation: Actor, magazine editor, graphic designer
My best holiday ever…
There are some places that I visit where I immediately feel I fit in. Paris does it for me
Budapest 2005. The highlight of the holiday was spending New Year’s Day in the thermal baths. There were six of us and a few days into the holiday we decided to try them out. None of us knew a word of Hungarian and few Hungarians spoke English.
Upon entering the baths, set in the grounds of a beautiful palace, we were scuttled along by men in white coats, through long corridors to our changing cubicles.
We had no idea what to do, so after changing into our bathing costumes, we ran into the snow and plunged into the warm springs. It was like a few years had been lifted off us after spending a day hopping from snow to sauna to the baths.
I would never return to…
Tortola in the British Virgin Islands after a flood.
The most dangerous place I’ve visited…
I don’t think I’ve ever visited anywhere particularly dangerous. The only place that comes to mind is Torry in Aberdeen where I lived for a year. I don’t know what it’s like now, but back in the 1990s it had a reputation for being a dodgy area.
If daylight robbery could fall under the category of ‘dangerous’, then I can recall one particular holiday to Greece in the 1990s where my two friends and I (all three of us innocents abroad) were ripped off at every corner by the Greeks who immediately clocked on to the fact that we were naive.
Of course, nowadays, recollections of this holiday have us rolling on the floor with laughter.
My favourite city…
There are some places that I visit where I immediately feel I fit in. Paris does it for me.
My most memorable experience on an aircraft…
Issa dawn affarijiet għall-qarrejja tas-Sunday Times?
My most treasured holiday souvenir…
Fabric from the suq in Tangiers. I visited there by chance on a trip to southern Spain about 15 years ago. I was staying at a friend’swho lived in the countryside justoutside Tarifa.
A few days into the holiday her husband needed to visit Tangiers, so we thought we’d go for the ride. We were hosted by a German woman who took us to the market that sprawled through narrow, winding streets and ended in a courtyard, overlooked by rows of arches on all four sides.
Intoxicated by the variety of smells that pervaded the area, we ascended a dark winding staircase that led us to a small room, stacked to the ceiling with an array of beautifully woven textiles bearing some of the richest colours I had ever seen. In it were two men working at the looms. It was wonderful to see the product being made before our eyes.
My biggest gaffe abroad…
I went to see Robbie Williams in concert in Milan with a friend. The trip was only about four days long, but we managed to cram in quite a lot.
We went with an all-inclusive tour to save us the hassle of organising it. As is the case with this type of holiday, one must stick to certain rules and times so as not to disrupt schedules.
Most of the time we went our own way, but on the last day, a Sunday, we thought we would kill time in the morning and visit the city centre. We needed to return to the hotel by noon in time for the transfer to the airport.
Like dishevelled schoolgirls, we were reprimanded by the tour leader and we skulked onto the coach clutching our bags… and the last scraps of our dignity
I had just bought a new camera so, after wandering through empty streets, we decided it was time to take the underground back to the hotel. Since it was deserted, we thought we would put the camera to good use and started making some titillating film clips, just for a laugh.
The train finally arrived and it dawned on us that we were cutting it very fine with time. We got off at the correct station, but in the panic, we took the wrong street, only realising when we had completely lost our bearings.
We finally got back on track, only to see our coach ready to leave. All decorum was lost as we ran like two women possessed shouting for the coach to stop.
Upon arriving we realised it was only parking and that the rest of the group were watching the scene through the hotel windows. Like two dishevelled schoolgirls, we were reprimanded by the tour leader for being late and we skulked onto the coach clutching our bags… and the last scraps of our dignity.
The friendliest people…
Sicilians. Very hospitable… of course, the men can take theword ‘friendly’ a bit too seriously sometimes.
I never travel without...
My sense of humour and an open mind.
The taxi ride I will never forget…
The one that springs tomind is not suitable for thispublication.
An unforgettable hotel...
Alan Montanaro and I decided to take a short break in London and cram in as many shows as possible.
We were on a tight budget so we opted for a well-priced hotel that we found on the internet.
It was newly refurbished and looked quite stylish in the photos so we thought we had made a good choice.
Upon arriving, we were greeted by a surly, eastern European receptionist with a bad case of halitosis. The façade of the hotel was Georgian, but upon entering it was like being on the film set of a low budget version of Space: 1999.
The lobby was, to say the least, bijou (we hardly had space to put our suitcases down). After being escorted through a maze of narrow corridors lined with the metal that one would usually see on a bus floor, we entered our respective rooms that were clad in the same material, save for a blue headboard made of padded PVC.
Interesting décor – it was a cross between a Tardis and a padded cell.
I return most often to...
London. To visit friends and see shows.
My ideal travel companion...
Alan Montanaro. Because no matter what happens, we always have a good laugh.
Country with the best cuisine...
Sicily and Hungary.
My next holiday plans…
None at present… too busy sorting out my life.
My dream trip…
Iceland on horseback.
I partied hardest in…
London, back in 2000. I went with a group of fellow actors after panto. Two of us were considerably older than the rest of the group so after the first night out, which consisted mainly of wandering the streets with no concrete plans, we thought we would leave them to it and go our own way.
My friend knew of a good nightclub, so the following evening we made a b-line for it. After freezing our toes off in the long queue, we were finally let in and danced the night away to the likes of I Will Survive, Dancing Queen and I Am What I Am… so many men, such good dancers!
My travel tip…
Always visit a new country with an open mind… and a spare pair of knickers in your hand luggage, just in case.