Trying to Save My Pennies

With months of spending with no income looming, I decided that I desperately needed to start getting into conservation mode. Thus, I cancelled on two outings for the weekend in the effort to become a hermit. So on Saturday, I went with Hugo to the design museum to see a Zaha Hadid exhibition (excellent, as was the Graphic Design exhibition) intending on being cultured and cheap, but we ended up going via Borough Markets and ginger ice cream, and the pub en route home. What can you do!

Up the road in Clapham Common the Ben & Jerry's festival had been going on all weekend. Adam, the lucky fellow, had scored a ticket, so Miriam and I lay in the park listening to the music and watching the drugged up crazy woman fling herself around, and waited for Adam and Co to bring us out free ice cream. (We had already had an Ecuador Magnum, mmm, that morning so the desperation was not so insistent but then, you can never have too much ice cream). For dinner Miriam cooked some sort of Spanish chorizo/sausage/mince thing that you fry and eat with eggs and bread. It was a delish!! Our wine rack is currently filled with ginormous sticks of Choriza due to Miriam and her trip home.

It had been a bit of a uncertain week with the renovations to our flat coming to an end, the scaffolding coming down, and everyone speculating that we would get kicked out upon the sale of our caravan. We were relieved to find out that this was not to be the case, and now the facade of our flat looks so lovely we barely recognise it when we come home, and have been found to walk right past it. So no longer will we be directing people to the charred, scaffolding wrapped flat!!

Loving the Weekend

I've always thought that entering into the weekend with a new look is the best way, so Mish and I took the day off on Friday to get a haircut at the Tony & Guy Academy which, as usual, was a lengthy affair, especially when the building was flooding and water started coming through the lights. A class full of male Greek hairdressers made for an interesting show, especially when upon finishing with us got straight onto the important affair of doing there own hair. I had a lovely Russian guy from Moscow dying my hair; he spoke no English so there was a translator on hand to let me know what was happening.

That evening, complete with no money, multicoloured hair, and a burning desire to have a long drink, we played on Graeme's new Wii; how great are they, and the next morning I woke up with rather sore muscles.

Saturday brought with it a surprise birthday drinks for Miriam's birthday, and even though Adam is a terrible liar, and the plan was foiled by the fact that no one knew anyone else so were unable to stop any strays from early entrances, she was still suprised. We ended up joining a Monopoly pub crawl, and I eloped to Fran & Thea's hat party later in the night.

Despite this run of events, I was still able to kick it up at the Lovebox Weekender on Sunday. Although Mish and I were a little late and missed Nouvelle Vague, argh, we had a wicked time dancing the day into night.

Tour de France

As one that never watches sports or has any vague idea of who plays what, I was strangely excited about Tour de France. As the crowds lined the streets, the lines to cross the street grew; the available overpasses were more like an afterthought rather than a functional decision. It was a miracle that the sun was shining, and people were smiling like stepford wives as the cyclists warmed up. The French police were in attendance with their spiffy hats riding motorbikes ahead of the cyclists, whist the team car loaded with spare bikes yelled encouragement, (or insults, most of it was foreign and sounded a little demeaning, although Miriam informed us that the Spanish car was belting "move your ass") from behind like a Chinese torture camp. But as it was the time trials, it was a strange schizophrenic experience where you only cheered every 59 seconds as you caught a glimpse of pink, blue or white, and the rest of the time looked strangely placid.

By the time we made it home, pimms was on the cards, and a barbecue in the neighbours backyard. Mister Mister (the cat) was not too happy with the invasion! We discovered the disposable barbecue had legs and was in fact a good way to stop the underside catching on fire; there so much food that we could have fed all those incy wincy cyclists twice over!

Drowning in sorrow

I know I sound like a complete grump, but this weather is the complete pitts!! So far this week, the rain has caused me to forgo a bizzarre sing-a-long (don't ask), watching the tennis at Wimbledon, having some semblance of exercise regime, and seriously inhibiting my ability to keep my tan on, literally. The days pass in a blur of miserable people and wet socks, and a mild condition of depression. On one such lovely days, the signal at Clapham Junction station was struck by lightning, meaning that my 12 minute journey home turned into a 90 minute palava, and my friend had to wait for me for over an hour!! To complete the package,as we walked to The Goat, I got completely drenched by a truck as it passed. I thought it was really funny, but several people around me weren't finding the humourous side of it; I geuss having a shower in the grime infested road waters of London isn't exactly the most ideal way to end the day. It is at times like this that I think back to the man jumping around in the giant balloon at the Burlesque bar last week and have a little giggle.

Roasting the Balcony

It is always a bit of a shock adjusting when one gets back from a holiday; even more so when you leave 40C temperatures for a grim 15C, and people are gasping at your newly found colour, so it was nice to have the weekend to ease back into it. Via a trip down the road to see Fran and Thea, my first decent coffee in weeks with Nadya and Joe, Adam, Miriam, Nikki and I spent the rest of the day having a BBQ on our balcony/scaffolding. It was brilliant!! 24 of Nikki's delicious meat patties with a feta suprise, lamb chops, Carribean rice, and Pimms, it was phenomenal!! We had enough time to eat several burgers and lamb chops before we had to move the party inside and cook from Adam and Miriam's bedroom (giving them a lovely barbequed scent to sleep with that night). Our house has looked like a charred piece of steak for months, and the scaffolding has only been adding to the glorious image, (our disposable BBQ added a bit of charr to the scaffolding also) so you've gotta work with what you got!

Karlovacko!!

My nine days in Croatia was definitely the catharsis that I had been looking for. I took my time and meandered down the coast at a leisurely pace, taking more time in places that took my fancy and cutting short stays in favor of more remote destinations. I felt that I had come to Croatia at a crucial time before mass tourism makes it's way back onto it's beautiful shores post war. Whilst it was starting to get busy in the cities as it drew closer to peak season, it still lacked the anonymity that pervades more popular destinations, and maintains an authentic Croatian heart. The people are warm and generous with a slightly abrupt edge that can come and go within a conversation, but I was never at a loss for people to talk to or ask for help from. It is amazing when you think that most of the people there would have been present during the war of 1991-1995, and it was fascinating to listen to their experiences. Whilst my only recognition of this awful time was hearing it bantered about on the news, it really struck home how real these conflicts are. We can become so inundated by the plethora of horrors in the media that we forget that it affects real people. The extent of the damage both to the people and the architecture is for the most part barely evident as things have been remarkably rebuilt, and the people seemed to have pulled themselves back up with a resilient spirit. The beer is cheap, and the food delicious, but with catastrophic coffee and the lack of recognition for breakfast as the most important meal of the day, mornings often had a sketchy start with borak, a pastry filled with feta and also possibly shallow fried, and a healthy dose of Coke Zero (they don't do Coke light).
I flew into Pula where upon touch down, my first mission was to find a beach. Forget the impressive amphitheatre, supposedly more impressive than the one in Rome, or the fact that I'd had no sleep, food, or acquired a map; I'd been landlocked for the last six months and at this point in time, my life depended on it! I was given directions by several people along the way to my required medicine, but still managed to get lost. I'm not sure if I ended up where I intended but when I finally set my eyes on the crystal clear blue waters, it was as if I had been injected with the serum of life. Due to nearly all the beaches in Croatia being rocky and pebbly, I took my position on the rocks, and felt the first rays of yellow gold on my back, which certainly hadn't been subject to such luxuries for a very long time. Once I had been revived, I went back and visited the "sites", and spent the night at the hostel with a couple Norwegian guys who were dying in the heat, an Aussie and an American (preview of what was to come) after everything in town seemed to shut for the night, with the only nightclub housing young-somethings which I didn't particularly feel like dealing with.
A scenic bus trip passing by stunningly elegant Opitija bought me to Rijeka where I battled zillions of old people for seafood risotto and cherry strudel; it was worse than catching the tube on a hot summers day!!! (The things you do for free food : ) Luckily there were lovely old men that helped me get back out of the crowds whilst balancing ginormous portions of delectable food. Rijeka is your typical port town; the type of place that you go only to go somewhere else. The Jadrolijna to Hvar didn't leave until the evening, so I took my spot in the sun on the wharf with the rest of the backpackers, amongst the excessive amount of couplish behaviour that seems to be everywhere in Croatia. I paid 230HRK which is about 21GBP for a bed and breakfast and 12 hour ferry ride down the coast. You can't even get halfway up England for that! Whilst I didn't end up really needing the bed, instead staying up with a Croatian and a couple Canadians, it was good to have somewhere to put my day pack. As the sun rose on the water, the islands passed slowly by reminding me of NZ, and it was a beautiful sail into the port of Stari Grad on the Island of Hvar.
Unfortunately, I didn't realise that I had to catch a bus to get to Hvar town, and so missed the bus connection. No one knew when the next one would be, and all I knew was that they come when ferries dock in, so I found a bay and swam for a few hours whilst waiting for the next ferry to come in. Hvar is a rich mans island with an excessive amount of yachts laden with excessive amounts of money. Once you wander behind the touristy square into the backstreets, there is a charming side to be found with old women sitting on their doorsteps waving, many cool bars in dark alleys, and a general relief from the luxury. I dined on the waterfront with Marni and Tania whom I met at the Green Lizard and foraged around the bars and dark alleys whilst wearing sunglasses (I felt like an idiot but I forgot the sun would eventually go down and left my glasses behind). On the second day, Marnie and I took a trip out to an island that supposedly had a sandy beach. Sandy it was not, but tanning there was. Hvar is the sunniest place in the Adriatic, with around 2715 hours of sun a year, so there is certainly no lack of tanning opportunities, especially when you don't have a choice as to when you can get back to the mainland.
Leaving a night earlier than intended, Hugo, Marnie and I caught a ferry to Korcula that night, complete with a little Dutch girl fanning us. I loved Korcula; it was charming, and lacked the pretentiousness of Hvar. We had dinner whilst watching the town constable spring into action to clean up a oil spill on the marble cobbled roads; several people kept falling over, so they diverted cars, foot traffic, put sand down, and then the fire department was called in to wash it away. They were very efficient! We expect that it would be in the town paper the following day. Lazily easing into the day and then finding it too hot to walk around any longer resulted in an emergency swim at an urchin filled beach, and then a trip to Lumbarda for some sandy bathing. Nearly all the people there were tourists, presumably dying for a swim where you don't have to look like a drunkard with a short leg whilst walking into the water.

We had previously spotted a bar in the sky on top of a turret in the old town, so that night a group of us climbed the ladder up, every second person hitting their head, pondering how one would come back down after one too many. The orders and drinks are transported to and from the bar downstairs via a pulley system. The cocktails were dreadful, but the view was spectacular! The waiter looked a little stressed the entire time, and told me off at one point for standing on the edge to take a photo. We later met Brian, a guy from California who was on the island for a few days working on a house he had randomly bought. He recommended another bar and offered to meet us for a coffee in the morning to give us tips for our road trip that we had planned for the next day. We were to bump into him later and spent the night meeting a string of random people. (It seems that a number of people end up on Korcula by accident and then end up staying there! Korcula is a very seductive island.)

The road trip was idyllic and a perfect way to spend the day after a night of little sleep. Hugo drove our sky blue Chevrolet, whilst I attempted to navigate (not one of my strongest skills as I have previously written about) and tune in Croatian music on the radio to enhance the experience. We stopped off at various towns and passed through little stone villages that dot the landscape. Most of the island is untouched and remote making secluded bays with not a soul for miles very easy to find. Unfortunately we failed to find the mud that we had heard about which we were rather looking forward to due to the sunburn that was really starting to build up (apparently walking into a tourist office where they don't speak fluent English and asking where the mud is was not an effective method). On the way home we found a lovely little restaurant in this tiny village, if you could call it that, where the owner took great pride in his food and service, with homemade schnapps on the house and a limestone table.

The early morning bus/ferry to Dubrovnik was picturesque, as any drive down the coast is. Marnie and I stayed at a Sobe with a dog called Belina and a litter of kittens, owned by a woman who's daughter had just married a kiwi in London. We went our separate ways for a wander around the beautiful but touristy old town; whilst there was much dodging of male attention, I did acquire a seat at a cafe overlooking the old town, and got stuck in the jewellery alley. Feeling a little jaded from the heat, we had a romantic makeshift dinner in our Sobe, complete with rather odd tasting Croatian wine. On our last day, we took a trip out to the island of Lopud, where after a massive hike in extraordinary temperatures we found a sandy and part nude beach. Later that night we went for dinner at a family owned and run restaurant in the old town, and drank wine produced by the very smiley waiters grandfather, whilst I demolished a massssssive portion of mussels.

Sadly the last day came rather quickly, and I took the bus up to Split. Due to the ferries between islands being quite irregular, I was unable to take the sailing route up which would have been amazing given the view that I had on the bus. I only managed to have a quick look around the Old Town in Split before I had to catch a ridiculously early bus to the airport where I spent most of the day talking to the security guard. The airport transfers go 90 mins before Croatian airlines, but I was flying a Hungarian airline called Wizz Air. The bus driver informed me that there was no bus schedule and he didn't know whether there would be a later bus.

Croatia is an amazing country and one not to miss when over this side of the globe. I would recommend a bed roll and scuba socks!

I Love the Act of Barbequeing

Mish and I created the crowning glory of all BBQs on Sunday. Granted, we slapped our prawns, steak, and kebabs on before it reached the pinnacle of it's perfection, but that is not to say that it negates the fact. The problem wasn't that we didn't know the science of starting a charcoal BBQ, in fact we repeatedly said that the coals needed to go grey and would in fact take some time, even whilst chucking extra fire starters on because it didn't look like they were heating, (perhaps it was due to the tears falling from our eyes due to the excessive amount of smoke) but we live in a world of instant gratification where things happen in quick succession, and our stomachs overtook logic! After we had "smoked" our food, barbequed the caffetia (literally, the handle started to melt), and concluded that one we didn't have anything else to cook on it and two even if we did we'd had too many cupcakes to stomach it, we watched the BBQ glow the night away. All this after our discussion about the future demise of the world due to wasteful energy usage.

Observing Insanity

How much do I love Fridays!! Almost as much as I love green tea martinis, perhaps more. I have come to realise several things about myself this week.

#1 I'm getting slightly addicted to Big Brother, ahhhh!!

#2 I'm a little worried about my excessive usage of "you know what I mean"; I wanted to pick up a posh English accent not one from Essex!

#3 The vending machine is my nemeisis

#4 I love receiving a Spanish word a day even if I can't pronounce it

#5 I could become addicted to ketchup

#6 I don't know how I would go on if I became lactose intolerant

#7 I always end up in the same carriage as the drunken Polish men on the way home no matter how far along the platform I go!

Relief!

Today I booked flights to Croatia; I need sun, sand, sea, and will get it even if I have to lay on the beach in the rain! I have been feeling increasingly claustraphobic recently, and this has been a long time coming. Whilst I hope to get to Plitvice National Park (although I hear that whilst it is easy to get a bus there it may not necessarily pick you up again) my main priority will be the clear waters of the Adriatic sea and the sweet nothings of silence. This time next week I shall be so relaxed that the earth will think I am a tree and swallow me up.

Criminal Activity at the Junction

Down the road is a cheapy shop from which I have been buying 5 quid phonecards for 3 quid from a guy at a little glass counter. For the past month or so, I have noticed that he has been absent from the store and I think I have discovered the reason why. Last night I went to use my card for the first time in months, and an automated voice informed me that it had been blocked!! I have always joked that the phonecards had probably fallen off the the back of a truck, but now I feel that it is probably true!! The phonecard man has obviously been caught, and the cards blocked. I considered calling the customer service line but thought, maybe I don't want to be caught up in the palava, after all I am an accessory to the crime; I bought four because it seemed too good to be true, which evidently it was!

Shucks, it's Shoreditch

After a rather uneventful week, punctuated by Thea's appearance on TV and the start of Big Brother, God help us all or rather the only guy stuck in the house with eleven girls, the weekend couldn't come any sooner. My new flatmates Adam and Miriam moved in via a million trips up the stairs, and I am very excited at the prospect of Spanish lessons (homework and tests included). Adam is Australian and Miriam from Madrid. Saturday brought beautiful weather, markets, park lazing, and Shoreditch. It began with a bit of a shakey wobble; the perils of dressing for a night out coupled with the formulation of a plan for shrinking down, whilst eating banana cake. When we finally made it out, we ended up waiting forever to catch the #35, finally jumping on the #344 instead, only to see the #35 arrive as we drove away. Anyway, as this was our first forray into Shoreditch, none of us really new where to go. In the end, we picked a club, and hoped for the best. Our faces must have said it all when we walked in and there was literally 8 people and 3 bar staff who looked like they were in serious need of an expression. The music was good, there was just a lack in body warmth!! Before long, to our relief, it began to fill up; we had obviously come a touch early. The only problem was that as the number of people increased, the quality of music decreased. Having had enough, we decided to call it quits, and en-route to the kebab shop, Claire bumped into someone she knew!!(Quite rare in London) With these two little Swedish boys, we attempted to find a watering hole, but didn't have much luck, ending back at the kebab shop for the most unsatisfying kebab of my life, and attempted to get home, another palava in itself. Again, the #35 didn't come, so we took another bus to Liverpool in order that we would have a better chance of catching a bus our way. When it finally did come, it didn't stop, so we were left talking to a lonely security guard on the door phone. Well Mish talked and Claire and I looked on amusingly. We did eventually make it home.

Bank Schmank

Bank holiday aka winter woes. After a stunner of a week, Saturday came around bringing with it wet and windy fronts and chilling temperatures. I have to say it wasn't the most life changing of weekends but that is not to say that is wasn't enjoyable. On Saturday I ticked off one from a long list of galleries that I've been wanting to visit. I stood in line for a ticket to the Anthony Gormley exhibition at the Hayward Gallery, which I have to say was well worth it. The night was spent at Beverley catching up with the girls, and having a good old chinwag, greeted by cornfritters in the morning. In a fit of domesticity, Mish and I went on a baking frenzy, whipping out pretty pink cupcakes and gingerloaf, breaking a wooden spoon on the way. Monday I lazed in Fran and Thea's new palace; it is lovely!!!

Inflating In Every Way

Due to the insignificance of May 19th, Matt, Sam and Ricoh took it upon themselves to bestow the day with some sort of excuse to look forward to this day by having an inflatable party; entry being, as I have already so mysteriously insinuated, something inflatable. With Nadya supplying the dolphins, (Cocoa and Murray; explanations can be found at racialrelations.com) and beach balls to go with, we set off to Tooting Bec. Murray, almost towering over me with his lovely plastic scent and ever so dreamy eyes, was cause for much pointing and ecstatic excitement from children and strangely not that many wierd looks from anyone else; perhaps it is not uncommon to see marine life on the bus. By the time we arrived, Murray and Cocoa's entrance was overshowed, although not ignored, by a massive killer whale and almost lifesized tractor; the paddling pool was filled with a clam shell, cows, guitars, bananas, wings, and many other exciting things that were perfect for creating a soft landing!! What a great party, and such a conveniant bus trip home (yes I can hear you girls sniggering!)

Sunday was a typical one at the Sweep, waking up closer to the afternoon than one would like, to find Thea sprawled on the couch, and later the Fran and I (and Fran's Nicki for this occasion) joining her, and eventually making our way through a Sunday brunch of some sort. It was the last weekend at the Caravan for Fran and Thea, and I have to say it was spent in a very typical Franeeli fashion. We had an English Bickie Tasting, more for my benefit but secretly a good excuse for the girls to eat lots of biscuits. On Friday they had come back with Iced Jems, Wagon Wheels (yum), Jaffa Cakes, Custard Creams, HobNobs, Party Rings, Fox's Golden Crunch Creams, Jammee Dodgers, Tunnock's Tea Cakes, Garibaldi, Coconut Delights (delish), and Bingo (the game, but the little machine that shoots out the numbers was a little problematic). Sunday evening was spent ploughing through this large shrine to our favourite pastime, and in true English tradition, with tea and British drama. Now it would seem that all we did was eat, which to be fair was quite true and our only excursion out was to go to Tesco, but we did cut and glue ribbon for Thea so it was not completely unconstructive.

Where's Waldo?

Well I reached the end of what has been a very grey and grim week; (although as I speak the skies are turning a brighter shade of blue and the sun is actually giving London the time of day!) My mission this week has been to find somewhere to go for Bank weekend next week, but as to be expected everything is ridiculously priced. I was looking to go to Auschwitz; morbid I know, but I met a couple people in Salzburg who had just been to Dachau and I felt rather inspired to go. Evidently, airlines are making a lot of money from the Polish population here.

The ticking of my travelling clock is definitely increasing in volume. Upon being offered a year contract at the company which I have been temping with, I realised how limited my time here really is; 196 days to be exact. As summer approaches, weekends fall to the way side, and my list of destinations gets increasingly longer. The more time that I am here, the more that London life grows on me like the veins in blue cheese. My initial reservations and in fact complete adamant nature that I did not want to end up being in London have been squashed with a satisfying squish, and I have come to love life here. I would certainly never bring up kids here, but at a time when life is as breezy as it is now, it certainly agrees with me.

I Am a Goat

I am feeling rather bright-eyed and bushy-tailed after two days of invigorating mountain air and enough vitamin D to ensure that I am several steps closer to having some resemblance of colour, Birkenstock tan marks included. Aside from one freak storm, I was blessed with blue skies and temperatures soaring to ice cream diet temperatures (ice cream which was a strong contender for Granada's Claire!). Salzburg (or Sainsbury as my darling Ma keeps referring to it as; imagine an entire weekend at a supermarket, how great would that be!) is nothing but charming, with Mozart accosting you around every corner, crouching alleys leading to catacomb spaces, American women Austrian spirit dressed Maria Von Trapp style, overlooked by Monchsberg peak upon which sits Europe's oldest fortress, Hohenslzburg, and stunning snow capped mountains. Many a mountain was climbed and several occasions found lost, ridiculous amounts of photos taken (approximately seven per hour),and only one wierdo. The beautiful Mirabell gardens are lovely, and if you wander off the beaten path in the forest you may come across a group of old men and a cooker having lunch. They may be forest dwellers or perhaps have just decide to create homeliness for the day. Of all the Mozart sights of interest, I only went to Mozarthaus; a bizarre museum/artistic representation of his childhood in the residence where he was born, including a scary half man half baby doll and a drawing insinuating that he had an ear piercing!! Itziar and I had quite a giggle and some of the strange exhibits. A little south of the town centre is Hellbrunn; a palace, gardens, and trick fountains created by a Prince-Archbishop with a splendid sense of humour for whimsical days in the summer. The trick fountains are well worth the visit, involving seats that shoot water if guests get too rowdy, and doorways that shower unsuspecting visitors. As it dates back to the 16th C, it is all powered by water pressure; an amazing feat of engineering. You are guaranteed to get wet, which is unfortunate for all these Europeans that like to wear white pants! Somewhere in the grounds is the Sound of Music pavilion, which I spent hours looking for but neglected to find as I arrived late and had limited time due to the fact that the Salzburg Marathon was on that day so the buses weren't running until after 3pm.

I must admit that Salzburg offered more than I expected, and would have perhaps even like an extra day there; the hills were definitely alive with the sound of my smile! As it had been a month and a half since my last trip I was definitely getting a little caught up in the mundaness of everyday life, and this short but sweet excursion has reminded me of why I am here.

TASTY TREATS

To be fair, I dined mostly on ice cream and pretzels, but there were a couple newbies to my list of regional delicacies. With my lust for liquorice I was rather excited by this hard bread thing that looked like a giant cookie with fennel seeds. The lady at the stand warned me that it was hard, and boy was she right!! To tend to my amorous feelings for almonds, there was the Echte Salzburger Mozartkugel involving marzipan, nougat creme, and chocolate; the sweet ambassador for Austria.

Where did the weekend go?!

Bank holidays, gotta love em!! Even if you dissipate into blobaliciousness for an entire day, there is still a whole nuther weekend to go. On Saturday night we dropped by the Walkie, argh; somehow we didn't manage to move beyond this antipodean hole, but a good time was had despite bad music, and various other disturbing factors. Sunday was an extremely productive day involving a couch, bad movies, and chocolate; with the promise of exciting excursions on the extra day gifted to us by the holiday Gods, the lack of productivity was not too worrying. To our disgust, the skies opened up on Monday, and we were forced to convene indoors, but with the caravan being the size it is, it always feels like a party, and permanently looks like we've just had one. Thankfully, the rain cleared, and I headed down the road for Milo's birthday BBQ. The girls decked the surrounding area with hilarious photos, serious food was sizzled on a real charcoal barbie (later used to keep warm), and many a cheer had.

Tea Time

The name "Tunnock's Teacake" has the air of old fashioned brown raisin cake and one would assume a rather lack lustre presence about it; but when I peeled back the red and silver foil I was pleasantly surprised that it was not a serious affair at all!! This Scottish invention is very similar to a Mallowpuff, only with a more buttery biscuit base and the marshmallow has a consistency that is somewhere between shaving cream and a cloud. Apparently a favourite of Supergrass, Tunnock's is a Scottish legend, established in 1890 Thomas Tunnock who paid £80 for a shop in Uddingston. After sinking my teeth into one of these dulcet delights, I now understand why it holds such a whimsical place in British consciousness.

Aquatic Adventures

Feeling a little fretful, Mish and I signed up to an aqua aerobics class at the Latchmere Leisure Centre after work yesterday. Would there be a whole lot of uber fit people? Are we going to be able to keep up? Was the instructer going to be a steroid-filled muscle Nazi? Initially, there was only two people signed up which was a little worrying as it meant that we couldn't just blend into the background, but when it came to it, there were around ten other people. The instructor was this lovely woman who kept us entertained, and certainly looked like she was having as much fun as we were; initially you just feel so ridiculous so we were giggling away, but as the class progressed, the more intense it became and the more water resistance resisted; there were points where my muscles were definitely planning a revenge. It was a little problematic as I couldn't see without my glasses, and if the lively instructer was yelling comments my way I couldn't tell, so I made Mish come to the front with me so that everyone else could watch us make fools of ourselves. I geuss aqua aerobics has a certain nerdy old people connotation, and to be fair there was certainly no pretentiousnious or snobby gym junkies, which makes it absolutely perfect for a geekorama* like me : )

*geek: a carnival performer who performs sensationally morbid or disgusting acts, as biting off the head of a live chicken. Dictionary.com

Mission Tankini

The Bevy's and I kicked the weekend off by a visit to the tree bar, AKA Waxy O'Connor, so called because there is a tree in the middle, with various cavernous woody areas that one might find if one were a little elf exploring the trunk of an old tree in Cornwall Park. We then moved on to Tiger Tiger, humoring the bouncer in order to get in with trainers and paying exorbitant door charges only to be faced with the phenomenon of "City Boys" who at 2am are still in their suits; not my idea of a good crowd but hey, the music was doable until the irritating sounds of some hyper android bands started filling the upper dance floor. The trip home was a mission and a half, missing two buses, getting a little lost, and then finally plonking ourselves down on a night bus that might as well have been driving off road in the Sahara Desert.

Come Saturday, the sun was shining, and London was ready to be eaten. In an event called EAT LONDON, different areas from around this multicultural arena came together to make a map of London out of food from ethnic feasts in Trafalgar Square, including the Gherkin constructed from black and green grapes, and a London Eye pizza wheel. Unfortunately by the time Fran, Thea and I made it out, London had already been taken apart, and the ques were reaching Africa as everyone eagerly awaited the chance for free food. Despite this, we stood in the que for the tent with the best food, berating people as they illogically pushed through the minuscule gap that we were standing in when they could have used the rather large opening a few metres down. After eating ridiculous amounts of cake, we sent Thea off in the wrong direction to meet a friend whilst Fran took me to Oxford Circus, via Hamleys, and counselled me through my idea of a bad day; shopping on the high street!! The archetypal moment that exemplified my whole gripe with shopping in this consumer crazed city, was the que to pay in the newly opened Primark that wound around the store and took a good half hour to reach the counter. Considering the fact that people got trampled on the opening day, it is no surprise that it had the atmosphere of a traveller coming across a table loaded with gourmet food free for the taking. Suffice to say, I will never be visiting that store ever again!!

Thankfully, Sunday was less manic, with a relaxing day of groceries, cleaning, and a lovely dinner at Wagamama with my family from Holland, finished off with a meander down memory lane (not mine but I love a good photo show) bathed in the pink glow of the girls lair.

Today is the reason for Saturdays shopping shenanigans; after work today, Mish, Nadya and I are going to aqua aerobics at the Latchmere Leisure Centre! With my complete and utter distaste for running, this seemed like a good option. Low impact, low sweating, medium chance of getting some deadly skin disorder from the water, and very high entertainment value!

Hello Mr Kipling

Last night, I had my first French Fancy; delightful fondant iced sponge cakes with a vanilla flavoured filling. Whilst it sounds fancy, one might not find the ingredients so delightful; it claims to have no artificial colours or flavours but.....

Pink Fondant (18%) (Sugar, Water, Glucose Syrup, Hydrogenated Vegetable Oil, Colour (Cochineal), Preservative (Potassium Sorbate)), Chocolate Flavoured Fondant (18%) (Sugar, Water, Glucose Syrup, Hydrogenated Vegetable Oil, Fat Reduced Cocoa Powder, Preservative (Potassium Sorbate)), Yellow Fondant (12%) (Sugar, Water, Glucose Syrup, Hydrogenated Vegetable Oil, Flavouring, Colour (Lutein), Preservative (Potassium Sorbate)), Wheat Flour, Vanilla Flavoured Filling (10%) (Sugar Glucose Syrup, Hydrogenated Vegetable Oil, Vegetable Oil, Salt, Modified Maize Starch, Dried Egg White, Emulsifier (Mono- and Diglycerides of Fatty Acids), Flavouring], Sugar, Reconstituted Whole Egg, Reconstituted Egg White, Glucose Syrup, Vegetable Oil, Hydrogenated Vegetable Oil, Lactose, Milk Protein, Salt, Emulisfiers(Mono- and Diglycerides of Fatty Acids, Soya Lecithins), Raising Agents (Disodium Dihydrogen, Sodium Bicarbonate), Maize Starch, Fat Reduced Cocoa Powder, Perservative (Potassium Sorbate), Stabiliser (Sorbitan Trisearate), Flavouring.

If these ingrediants are natural, their names certainly aren't!!

Day for Paper

Yesterday was Claire and my one year anniversary since leaving NZ!! We celebrated at Henry J Beans in Chelsea, (talk about a posh neighbourhood, I felt like I shouldn't have been walking around there; Mum you would love the stores there!) and reminisced about the year that has been; from best meal and homeless night to merriest and scariest moments. It is hard to believe that a whole year has gone by, often phantasmagorical, sometimes confronting, and how many moments of marvelment and awe that we have packed into 365 days.

I have been doing some reading into brain exercise and according to the Franklin Institute, travel is a good stimulation for the brain. The evidence can be seen in our ancestors, the early Homosapiens, who's nomadic lifestyle led to the "development of superior tools and survival skills". Their diverse diet helped in brain development, and the flexibility and innovation required for such a strategic lifestyle gave them an edge on the evolutionary ladder. In contrast, the Neanderthals apparently did not venture far from their home and are now extinct. They were perhaps more content with their surroundings. Last night I discovered that I have been telling a lie all my life and do indeed quite like brussel sprouts (I'm sure that when I ate them at the age of eight, they didn't party with my taste buds). Perhaps this new entry into my diet will aid in my brain productivity!! I now officially like ALL vegetables : )

Oh oh

Yesterday morning I woke up to find that my bedroom window had cracked into two! All day I was worried as there is supposed to be scaffolding going up outside our house and I didn't want to be responsible for someone breaking into the flat through my already broken window. With a sigh of relief, there was no scaffolding when I got home, and our favourite landlord assured me that it would not blow in at night and kill me whilst I slept.

Eat Off the Floor

On Friday night we found ourselves driving (well Deacon was driving in his flash car whilst I relished in the potpurri scented lushisness of being in a car!!) to ASDA (literally down the road but an Everest journey if laden with bags) to collect supplies, and soap, the night before so that we were set for a flat warming with the potential to be a complete flop due to the lack of invitations that went out. We decided not to tempt fate and played Murphy off on his own game by deciding not to make punch, dressing up, or putting a beacon on the roof so that the hordes would be able to find us. Despite this, we managed to pack it out, and even meet our downstairs neighbours!! The state of our little caravan the next morning was evidence that a good night had been had.

After a very intrepid morning involving congealed rice, 3 bags of rubbish, and the odd random article of clothing, I partook in my first English BBQ, with Mish, camera in hand, plaguing our every move; well, heroic attempt at a BBQ at least. The disposable BBQ is a great idea, really just a foil tray containing charcoal and covered with chicken mesh, but it seemed to be more enthusiasm and less functional. Our sausages were smoked rather than cooked, branded with a mesh pattern, and still ended up basking under the heat of the oven grill to cook despite our best efforts to keep faith in the smoking box on the ground. But a barbie is a barbie, and there is nothing like it.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BIG BROTHER!!

Toothy Truths

Yesterday I bought a toothbrush that I thought was 1.50, but it was in the wrong place and turned out to be 3.50!! After realising that I had bought a toothbrush for $10, I thought, "this better be a blimen good toothbrush", and it was!! It has one of those things that I presume is a tongue scraper on the back of the head which is cool but means that my cheeks are getting a bit of an exfoliation at the same time as my tooth are getting so well cleaned by that 360 attention brush!! This is, albeit the most expensive, toothbrush that I have ever had.

Krak

Last week I finally got to Camden Markets; a completely different part of London with a variety of hairstyles and shoe attire. It reminded me of Victoria Park Market in its hey day, with a section that looked like Kevin's Arcade complete with a stall selling NZ jade. Over the weekend I found myself in the vicinity again at a club called Monster listening to some Indie/Rock bands, reacquainting myself to Jeiger, and getting caught in a badge scramble. The night ended in Koko, apparently on invite only but after sweet talking the mangirl on the door we canoodled on down. To quote the gorgeous Mish, "Charlie Chaplin and the likes used to appear there, and when it was reopened as a place to hold musical gigs, the venue provided a platform for The Sex Pistols and The Clash, just to name a few". WOW! The weather has been on the up lately, with temperatures reaching 26 over the weekend!! By the time we made it out to the Common on Sunday, it was late afternoon and still shining like a 50p in the sun. Among the things to dodge were crashing helicopters, frisbees, and soccer balls. We had a Londis picnic due to supermarkets closing ridiculously early on a Sunday. How I managed to eat felafel's again after the onion ridden one that haunted me from the night before I don't know!

Posh as Tosh

With little knowledge of the enormity of the Oxford/Cambridge boat race, Amisha and I decided to take the train, then the bus, then the train, then the bus, then finally settled on the train, to a rather peachy Putney, where we were met by streets filled with spirited people, french styled markets, and sad looking burger and beer deals. As we made our way to the river, scored a geeky flag and asked which way the race was going, (I would have given give me a wierd look too, but I have no shame!!) we were stopped in our tracks by a row of Navy Commando's. Turns out we were just in time to get a good squiz at the Cambridge crew in their hot one-piece-jobbies and the Oxfordians in their more stylish navy blue atttire as they came out of their garages with war expressions on their faces and took their places for some pics on the podium. I realised how far apart our worlds were as the posh people stood above us in their clubhouse looking all proper and a tad boring, although there was someone wearing a colourful stripey suit which was kinda comical; I'm not sure if it was worn with this intention. In fact the whole atmosphere was quite high brow in this area; even the cheers were all polite sounding, far from the endless screaming and grunting that one would find at a rugby game. When we were finally allowed to cross the foamy green carpet, we decided to turn back and find a spot over the other side of the river; we were again in the right spot at the right time as the crew came out with their boats, did the gumboot throw from their boat, and went off for a warmup. After a stop at a very busy offie, we found a bench on the riverside upon which we stood attempting to see over the wall of people that already lined the river, when suddenly the boats were off racing, half and hour ahead of schedule!! Utterly confused, we asked a policewoman whether it had indeed started and we discovered that it was the reserve team. With relief, that gave me a bit more time to weasel my way into a gap on the wall next to a lovely old lady so I could get some action shots. Sad to say, despite my lack of knowledge of either teams, my hopes were on Oxford, (based on the fact that I preferred the name and I didn't like the Girl Guide colours of Cambridge) but Cambridge took the race. All in all, it was an interesting sporting experience, and if I am in NZ when Cambridge goes to race us on the Waikato, I would be tempted to go.

Fish Eye

I found a really nice organic cafe around the corner from work after my plans to forage at the Borough Markets were thwarted by the drizzle. It was so relaxing, and I couldn't help but suit watch and overhear conversations as I drank my chai latte and read the Guardian. Cafes would have to be at the top of my list of holes to ensconce. Even better is brunch, outside a cafe, under an umbrella so that you can bathe in the sun whilst also having the option to cool down, wearing dark Audrey Hepburn styled sunglasses so that you can stylishly and surreptitiously stare at strangers; and for the ultimate experience it must be on a Sunday where you have that uber-relaxed feeling, the calm before the Monday storm. Whilst in Brussels, I met this Belgian who wrote me an itinerary of things that I could do whilst there. I was very pleased when he slotted in several people watching stops in recommended cafes around the city; that's my kind of day, 2 parts cafe 1 part sightseeing. You could say that I am a cafe anthropologist.

The Summer Extension

The weekend went by in a haze, as I slept for most of it due to feeling a tad run-down. I booked my flight out of London which was quite a feat; firstly because we sneak into one of our neighbours internet connections, and secondly, it felt like a really huge step!! I am flying Singapore airlines, (it'll feel like floating on a cloud after my marriage with Ryanair) and as I chose to sit in the two seater near the back, I ordered "special" meals so that I don't get all the crap leftovers (hopefully it doesn't mean that I'll be getting seafood for breakfast!!). Although I think it is very bizarre that you can order a "special" oriental or seafood meal, I mean are there people that don't eat anything other than seafood? Among the more interesting ones are "soft fluid", "ulcer diet" and one actually called a "bland meal", mm mm. Plane food is already so undesirable that I can't imagine what a special "plain" meal is like!! (ha ha pardon the pun) I am very excited as I will be staying with Keat, Belinda, and Sienna in Brisbane for a month and meeting my parents when they come over for Christmas; hopefully Sienna will be old enough to do finger painting and play tea parties with me, and give her mama and papa some time to do grown up stuff : ) My aims is to go seamlessly from one temperate climate to another so that I don't lose that European tan that I hope to steal back from this grim London weather; this year I have been the brownest and also the whitest that I have ever been, to the point that I have resorted to Johnson's holiday skin!! (That and it was on sale making it the same price as my normal moisturiser; although all day I've been wandering why my hands smell strange and it has just clicked as I write this) As much as fully paying for a flight out with no refunds seven months ahead is major in my current lifestyle of jetting to different countries at the drop of a hat, it is in actual fact a good way to make sure I see and do what I want to do before I leave as I have a fixed date to work towards. Carpi Diem!!

Recovery

Yesterday was such a write off, but my flatties surprised me with a caterpillar birthday cake and the festivities are being spread around as the balloons and confetti slowly make their way around the flat. We had our first flat meeting to discuss our flat warming, including a conference call with Fran; it will most probably be the same day that the landlord collects the rent! The flip side is that we then have two weeks to clean up. We are a little dubious about how we will manage to fit everyone in, so we are hoping for fine weather and perhaps become best friends with our downstairs neighbours so that we can use their backyard. People may have to settle for hanging out on the stairs, in the bathroom, in any available space. I think it'll be a Guinness Book of Records effort at the most people fitting in a caravan.

Inventory

A mandarin tree has sprouted in the kitchen; it's so cute but apparently only good for gin and tonics : )

Hushing the H

Helkeft, what a weekend!! I certainly felt another year older as it was clearly evident that I am far less resilient than I used to be. Whilst there is nothing too titillating that will send chills down your spine or strange enough to demand you charge your camera batteries for the next day, (the tourist map has as six H&M stores as one of its highlights) I had a fantastic time in Aarhus, despite the dire tiredness that constantly plagued us. There is a fantastic initiative called couchsurfing.com, where you can connect with people in your chosen destination either by occupying a couch, or meeting up for a chat, and alternatively, welcome people to your own country by offering the same back. It is an excellent way to meet local people and forge new friendships across cultures. This cultural exchange is a small way in which we can help make the world a more understanding, tolerant, and knowledgeable place. Having set up such an exchange, after a delicious brunch near the canal and a meander through the city, Nadya and I met Anne-Louise armed with flowers wrapped up in floral paper (and I don't mean paper from the florist, it actually had a floral print) and a bottle of rum. Her apartment was gorgeous, about a 10 minute walk from the city, and the couch very comfortable. Her friends Signe and Marlena came round, made us a gorgeous dinner, and we had cocktails whilst listening to Danish reggae. I'd read a bit about the Danish term hygge which is roughly translated as cosiness, but is also uncomplicated, unexaggerated, and informal. It is about feeling comfortable in a friendly atmosphere; this was certainly a hyggelig night. We learnt a couple Danish phrases in preparation to head out for the night, and then took a bus and Signe biked, the little elfin, to Arthur (pronounced Ar-tua) where the girls had all worked at one stage or another with random stories as to why they no longer did. We played pool for free and had several more bagfuls of laughs. Second stop, Waxies, a meat market with no fine meat. Lastly, Chokoladefabrikken (Translation The Chocolate Factory, as it was originally a chocolate factory) which was an awesome club with an underground feel, and laid back unpretentiousness. A good night was had, but due to the lack of taxis in Aarhus, it is impossible to get a one after a night out, so one shawarma later, we walked home with the rest of the town. Needless to say, the next day we were still pretty darn weary, so we headed out sometime in the avo for some brunch at Rar Bar , and said goodbye to Anne-Louise as she strangely managed to sum up the energy to play Danish baseball whilst we trooped off to Den Gamle (the Old Town where they moved all these old houses) Now, of all the languages, Danish seems to be the hardest one to pick up, with things on the menu totally unrecognisable, so it is fair to say we definitely didn't have enough basics down to speak transportation. With this in mind, we were trying to find out if the bus went to The Old Town, but the bus driver didn't speak English. He was really nice about it, and to our embarrassment made a call on the loud speaker to see if anyone spoke English!! Luckily, it wasn't the correct bus so we escaped the shame of sitting on a bus with everyone laughing at us, the silly tourists : ) Den Gamle turned out to be a little lame so we didn't end up going in, but we sat in the Botanical garden amongst the love in the air (we had been forewarned that due to everything being closed on Sunday the only people out and about are canoodling couples eating ice creams) and enjoyed the sun and the peaceful nature. The nice thing about Aarhus is that while the streets may be really busy, everyone is really laid back and relaxed; cafes and bars lack the pretentious and sniffy air that is often present in London. The rest of the day went by in a bit of a haze, and we made it home a little ahead of schedule at around 0145. With my eyes barely opening, and having lost the capacity to hold a conversation, I went to fling myself onto my bed; to my delight, my gorgeous flatmates had filled my room with balloons and confetti!! I literally woke up with a bang this morning!!

1983

Cabbage Patch Dolls become a black market item as parents empty the stores for their little girls; except for mine. I had a My Child called Sophie as my Mum thought cabbage patch dolls were ugly. I did dance as a Cabbage Patch Doll in one of my ballet productions.

The lowest temperature ever recorded anywhere on Earth was taken in Antarctica : -89.2° C.

The inventor of Tupperware, Earl S. Tupper, dies of a heart attack!! Perhaps he got a bit too stressed when someone put self raising flour in the container allocated to sugar!

U.S. soft drink makers begin using aspartame to sweeten diet beverages; perhaps this is why I am addicted to Diet Coke.

And now for some wise words from people who departed this world as I came into it:

An adventure may be worn as a muddy spot or it may be worn as a proud insignia. It is the woman wearing it who makes I the one thing or the other.

Norma Shearer

Life is partly what we make it, and partly what is made by the friends we choose.

Tennessee Williams

Rudeness is the weak man's imitation of strength.

Eric Hoffer

What a great year!!

Cutting It Fine

As I headed out into the falling snowflakes to catch the bus to the tube station yesterday morning, I prepared myself for the trauma of catching the tube at 0845. After failing to get on three trains, and watching people squish in against all the odds, despite half their asses actually outside of the door, I was eternally grateful that I work in the nothingness that is Hammersmith. After finally making it to the Toni & Guy Academy, getting into the Advance section again, oh yea, (as testament to the quality of haircut received here I overheard a girl saying that she wanted her hair like mine, two months post cut!!) I relaxed under my botched cape (the printers has put the Toni & Guy logo backwards) trying not to fall asleep as I waited under those harsh, salon light. As I chatted to my stylist (who I'm sure was being hit on by the tutor!!) I discovered that she was from a salon in Denmark!!! Alarmingly, her reaction when I told her I was going there on Saturday was "oh, why?" But when I told her I was going to Aarhus, she assured me that it was a happening city where people really know how to party, and not to bother booking a hotel. She fixed me up with a short do, and after getting a few shots taken, I headed out the door feeling a little bit more optimistic about my appearance; given the calibre of this Dane, it would have been pretty darn sad wandering around Aarhus looking like a ragamuffin.

With hair trimmings poking me like a hedgehog crawling around under my jumper, I attempted to do some browsing on Oxford Street, but only lasted half an hour as I still cannot handle the madness that they call shopping here!! So I headed home bagless, to find a mega sized box that I could barely carry up the stairs let alone fit through the hallway waiting for me! Keat, Belinda and Sienna had sent me a gourmet hamper, filled with the most luxurious items. Fran and I chowed through a box of Belgian truffles that night : ) I was so overcome by the excitement of receiving such an impressive parcel that when the woman from the market research company called regarding a paid mobile phone focus group, I forgot to lie about my age and the fact that I purchase mobiles on the basis that they have basic text abilities and on the cheaper end of the scale as opposed to their latest gadgets and aesthetic. Possibly a good thing as it would have been on Monday night, and I most probably will only make it to 8pm before my eyes shut for a long slumber. Despite the 50 quid loss, all is well, as in approximately 14 hours I will be getting up for the most stylish birthday I've ever had, starting with an arduous journey to Stansted Airport; one year older, my hair one inch shorter, and one box of chocolates heavier. I can't wait!!

Sunny Side Up

I feel like I am turning into a proper English bird, talking about the weather all the time, but you wouldn't believe how much of an impact it has on my life!! Last night, after missioning to the supermarket and returning home with the stabbing pains of hot meets cold as I entered the warmth of the caravan light, I was all set to double, triple, quadruple layer up to face the chill, and put on my grim face today. But alas, I was woken up before my alarm by the sun streaming through my threadbare curtains. I didn't mind so much, in fact it really put me in high spirits! I ate my breakfast with gusto, even made my lunch, (in an attempt to avoid a repeat of yesterdays atrocities) and managed to get a seat on the train despite getting there a little late!! If all goes well, I will be able to resist the vending machine, the sun will still be out when I leave work, and I will miraculously win the Lotto!!

Blunderbussing, Lubbering, Stumblebum!!

As testament to my need to sleep-in, I have started up a tally of ridiculousness for the day. I began the day by almost brushing my teeth with face cleanser, despite the fact that the bottle is big, purple and in a completely different place from my toothpaste. More recently, just 30 minutes ago in fact, I tripped up the stairs with my berry smoothie (which is now sprayed up the wall in a purple speech mark of colour) and half the contents of my lunch tumbling down the stairs. I didn't even stop to see if anyone witnessed this heroic act of elegance, I was so embarressed. Miraculously I remained clean, but slightly hungry after eating only half a lunch. Everyday as I walk up those stairs with my lunch I always think, take care, definite opportunity for kamikaze, but today I obviously had a lapse in concentration. I can't wait to see what is next on the surprise party of faux pars!!

You Drive Me Craaaaaazy

Well, the sun came and went, and winter has come back to bite me in the bum. As I write, snow is falling outside and the smokers are forced to go without. After several weeks scarfless, I will be forced to start wrapping up again. It was a cruel glimpse of what could be; people with smiles on their faces, relaxing in the park; oh the dream, the reverie!! Thankfully, to ease the pain of the horrid weather that is to come, this is a short working week as I have taken Thursday off to get a haircut, do a bit of window shopping, and generally spend a day relaxing; sort of a birthday present to myself. I feel like I am never able to catch up on sleep, which unfortunately will be unaided by Thursday. I will probably have to get up earlier than on a normal working day as the appointment is blimen early meaning a city peak hour battle. But as long as my hair gets some sprucing it will be worth the mission : )

Twiglets

I have recently discovered a new snack; Twiglets!! Twig-like in appearance, they could be likened to pretzels. A wholemeal crackery type stick coated in Marmite-like powdery stuff. They taste better than they sound!!

This one's for you Nadya

Last night, I paid a visit to my favourite surrogate family, who, by the way, are the best and I love em all to bits. On the way I wasted 5 quid on a pack of CDs that turned out to be DVDs, found out that I have been spending double the amount on my commutes than I need to, and my earphones that I purchased only last week have buggered out on me!!! So, as it is so hard to survive on the pound, especially when I have leaks in my money bags like that, I am always looking for ways to literally save my pennies. I can't walk away from the 2 for 1 deals at ASDA, which explains my shelf full of cans of chickpeas (5 for 1 pound!!), and I truly realised my addiction when I was tempted to buy a large bag of compost mixture for 90p. I don't even have a garden!! I can say one thing though; I will never be applying my face in the make up section of Debenhams as I saw one girl blatantly do, in the middle of the store!!

Approaching My Address Backwards

As my birthday is swiftly approaching, I have been searching for a place to vamoose, just because I can. Initially I was going to go to Aarhus, Denmark, as it was the cheapest flight out, but it wasn't so cheap that it would be worth spending only one day, so Nadya suggested Bath. I was a bit skeptical as I thought that there would only be old people and tourists which wouldn't make for a particularly exciting birthday celebration, (not that I have anything against the timeworn, tourists maybe but not old people), but I was to find that there was in fact a university with loads of people under 70. Not completely excited by the idea (it would mean that I was still in the same country) but prepared to settle on it just because there was nowhere cheaper to fly to, I went on to skyscanner for one last stab in the low cost world. Low and behold, the flights to Aarhus had gone down to 1p!!! Who knows what's there, but who cares, it'll be newfangled, random, and if it is a complete hole, I'll be leaving the next day!!

With 10 days left of this unusual age, I reflect on what has been a most breathtaking year, where I have definitely realised my peripatetic nature. 92 cities have been amused by my sometimes bizarre but mostly self humouring antics, with at least 40 of them befuddling me into a confused stupor; 2 pairs of shoes worn out, 5 more pairs added, 1 pair still unworn; 3 scarves and several earring backings lost, as well as the temporal misplacement of all my belongings; plane, train, underground, tram, bus, water-taxi, ferry, boat, bicycle, raft, funicular, 4WD, tuk-tuk, elephant, oxen, and camel used as a means to get from here to there; 2 electrical hair appliances acquired to upkeep 1 haircut; 6 pairs of stockings bought in an effort to avoid buying winter clothes; 0 broken bones or deadly viruses caught, several cases of overindulgence self diagnosed. I seemed to have escaped the plethora of travel hazards illustrated by thousands of backpackers, bar one attempt of bag pick-pocketing which I interrupted with a glare at the million of suspects surrounding me, with any misadventures turning into epic adventures. There are no mistakes, only opportunities to make scenic detours; sometimes you have to grin and bare it but at least you will come out the other side with a completely insane story to tell your grand kids!!