Ramblings of a 20-something female

"The Best Among People are those who Benefit Mankind"

2011-09-24T19:26:00.006+01:00

This is the slogan of Gift of the Givers

Gift of the Givers is a South African aid organisation. The organisation has been offering aid across the globe for the past 19 years.

I was fortunate to be chosen as one of six dieticians to go with Gotg on their second relief mission to Somalia (September 2011).

The opportunity presented itself when one of the doctors at the hospital I'm based in came to our department and spoke to my boss. I was busy with group patient education at the time. As soon as I'd finished my boss asked me if my passport was valid and I replied in the affirmative and asked why.

Reason: the opportunity to go with Gift of the Givers to Somalia on their second relief mission.

There wasn't a doubt in my mind. I was already in.I contacted my loved ones - parents, boyfriend, sibling,cousin - all who responded with overwhelming support. No question about my safety just agreeing with me that it was the opportunity of a lifetime and my parents (both, separately!) telling me to take the necessary medication prior to the trip and my mom added not to forget imodium (it was useful, if anyone wondered).

The necessary permissions from work - special leave - was organised and then confirmation from Gotg was finally obtained with a few date changes thrown in. It all felt 'need to know' which was a bit frustrating when it came to planning but is to be expected since relief missions can't be planned months in advance. Within a two week period vaccinations, travel insurance and leave was sorted. All that needed to happen was the actual trip Mogadishu, Somalia.

We were given numerous opportunities to back out of going but this never crossed my mind. Going on a relief mission, as dietician, is a once in a lifetime opportunity and one I had no intention of missing out on.

I had no doubts about going. There wasn't a decision to be made. It was already made. I had a skill to offer and I was going if they wanted me. Which Gotg did.

The support from my loved ones was an added bonus.

The day we left, 6 Sept, was a slow one. We were told me to meet in the international area of OR Tambo International Airport.

We were easily identified by the people who looked a little unsure of what was going to happen next since we didn't have any details aside from where to meet!

Stop-over: Lilongwe, Malawi.

(It's shocking how little I know of my continent...but that's not for this post. And something that needs to be remedied!)

We overnighted in Lilongwe, after a press conference with a Scottish organisation, Mary's Meals, who had donated 300 000 USD to Gotg, the Malawian Government, RSA representative, media and of course the Gotg team headed to Somalia we supped and headed to bed for an early start on the 7th.

The flight to Somalia was not direct as the plane we were in needed sufficient fuel to leave Mogadishu - fuel stop, Mombasa, Kenya, before our final destination, Mogadishu, Somalia.

Arrival was around 1pm, local time.

As we all exited the aircraft on went the head scarves for the ladies; Somalia being an Islamic country this was required.

Somalia is of course on the African continent and in Africa there is a whole lot of hurrying up and waiting. Reasons are numerous but it's definitely part of the way of life on this continent (one that can be mighty frustrating at times, but was met with more patience by most of us in Somalia).

At the airport we checked our luggage was all there, handed in our passports for visas and waited until they said we could go. The team was about 50 in total, of which 29 were medical and the remainder media.

The airport in Mogadishu is under the protection of the African Union (AU) and the soldiers are very visible. On exiting the airport we left in convoy with an armed protection detail that was with us wherever we went the entire mission. One of the journalists who had been on the first mission pointed out how an AU guard moved a cement barricade by forklift to allow us to exit the airport (the barricade being in front of the tall gate).

I can't recall what my first thoughts were when I saw the city. It didn't appear overly populated and all the buildings we drove past had high walls. The only identifying feature of the United Nations head quarters was the flag flying well above the high walls. This was pointed out to us by our driver who spoke very little English. All the buildings we drove past was in an obvious state of disrepair - unsurprising considering the country has been experiencing civil war for over two decades.

Our first stop was Banadir Hospital. This is reported as one of the largest hospitals in Mogadishu. The aim behind this visit was to give us an idea of what was going on in the hospital. Gotg had been given permission to work out of the hospital prior to our arrival.

Describing what was observed is impossible. Words and pictures only tell so much of the story. The rest needs to be experienced in person. The wards were overflowing with patients, the operating theatres were in a state very few surgeons would be able to work in - nevermind want to attempt to operate in. Our surgeons did. Successfully.

We were only at the hospital for a short while before heading to the compound we were based at for the duration of our time there. The compound, an ex-minister's house - housed all 50 of us! In relative comfort. It was much better than what I expected, although what I expected I really can't tell you but what we got was definitely not it.

Room allocation - well, finding a space and setting down your belongings - and then a late lunch was served. This was followed by a briefing.

The rest of the day was our own and we spent time getting acquainted and settling in.

The first full day was spent at Banadir hospital. The initial plan was to separate into our various disciplines, do an assessment and then report back. We had separated into paediatrics (paediatricians and dieticians), surgeons, adults and pharmacy. The paediatricians started in paediatric outpatients and saw patients there while the dieticians assessed the paediatric wards and spoke to of the local doctors about where we would possibly be needed. It turned out that we weren't the only foreign aid at Banadir Hospital - there were Germans, Egyptians an Turkish too (possibly a few more countries I'm unaware of). The paediatric wards certainly had the benefit of foreign aid compared to the adult wards.

We had daily debrief meetings. Very useful and much appreciated - releasing frustrations and of course discussing the way forward despite numerous restrictions. The paediatric team felt that things were mostly under control (on the paediatric wards) and staying would just add more people and more confusion instead of helping. In lieu of this, the people behind the scenes did some research and found another hospital.

Forlanini hospital is in a previously Al Shabaab controlled area; Al Shabaab had evacuated the area two weeks prior to our arrival in Mogadishu.

Forlanini hospital was where we based ourselves for the duration of the trip. The remaining medical personnel joined us too although the surgeons were in four different hospitals, including Banadir and Forlanini.

Setting up Forlanini took a record three hours - from a hospital where very few of the buildings remained standing offering limited medical care sans medical supplies twice a week - to one including consulting rooms, IV room, nutrition room, overnight wards, gynaecologist's room, pharmacy, theatre and even a recovery room and storage area. This all in the one building that was most usable.

This alone was amazing. The team who went on this second mission was outstanding (personal opinion; I'm sure the first team was equally great). Everyone pitched in and helped - whether it was in your scope of practice and job description or not. Media and medics. This was the trend for the entire trip.

On the day the theatre team joined us they performed seven surgeries. Within the first two days approximately 1000 people had received medical care, and a similar number had received dry food rations.

We quickly sorted ourselves into the various areas, and helped where extra help was needed when we weren't excessively busy. The dieticians were split between the IV room, nutrition room, overnight wards and even pharmacy (the one pharmacist we had would've been overwhelmed otherwise...and still was in spite of extra hands being of assistance!)

Watching the team work was amazing. The founder of Gotg and his right hand man in Somalia made things happen - and it all happened so fast you would be excused for your jaw dropping to the floor and staying there. They are legends!

We had locals assisting us with translating and as the week progressed we let them do more of the work and provided guidance as needed. The reasoning behind this was to hand over skills for them to continue providing care for those who so desperately need it.

It was interesting to see how the people organised themselves. The first two days we saw very sick people - adults and children; and as the week progressed the people were less sick and basically just wanted to a doctor - to tell them they're fine if nothing else. Medical care being a luxury few have had for at least two decades.

I'm not sure whether the locals helping us organised the people this way or the people themselves because everyday it would women and children (infants) first and then older children and women without children and lastly men.

Most of our time was spent at the hospital and one of the journalists had asked if we could see one of the camps as we hadn't had the opportunity to. One morning we did this - we spent about a hour in the camps before heading back to the hospital.

To say this was an eye-opener would be an understatement. It made the work we were doing in the hospitals far more real than what it had been to this point. Seeing the internally displaced people, many who have sold their land, living in these dome shaped huts covered in clothes, plastic, canvas lying on mats in the sand... I don't really have words for what it was.

It was sad.

A wholly inadequate description.

But at the same time - seeing all the children run around and follow us as we walked through a very small part of a 30 000 strong camp as intrigued by us as we were by them was amazing.

The people of Somalia are resilient.

I don't know how they've survived what they have. Many have not survived.

Here is one heart wrenching story: Somalia through a mother's eyes

Graeme has told it far better than what I can.

This story is not the exception.

This story is the rule.

Can you imagine that?

I was there, and I can't.

I'm in awe of the Somali people. Their resilience. And despite having absolutely nothing, they have so much!

It puts the problems we experience - personal, global - into perspective. A perspective I hope I don't lose.

I say I hope I don't lose it because it's amazing how quickly we can become accustomed to anything. The short time in Somalia had me get used to things - like cold water showers and rice and pasta for supper every night (served together).

The cold showers weren't really a big deal - refreshing after a long, hot and humid day.

The copious amounts of starch we were all over by day 5, if not sooner. But this is mostly because we have the luxury of a greater variety back home. Did we complain about the food - no. There was no reason to. We were well fed and looked after. The food was well prepared. That said - it's week two back home and I've yet to have rice or pasta :)

Before I went on the trip people were almost in awe. Many asked if I wasn't scared.

Being scared wasn't something I thought about. The closer the departure day came, the more nervous I became but this soon settled once we entered Mogadishu. During the entire trip I never felt unsafe. In spite of hearing single gun shots go off in the evenings, sometimes more than one. Sometimes far in the distance. Sometimes not.

I am grateful that my loved ones supported me wholeheartedly. It meant a lot.

This opportunity came along and it was one that couldn't be ignored. Such opportunities don't come by often.

As Dr Sooliman put it - we're weren't doing this for the Somali people; we were doing it for our own souls.

The Somali people benefited.

I do not feel worthy of the Gift of the Givers slogan; would I do something like this again - in a heartbeat!

It truly was privilege and an honour to work with Gift of the Givers. To provide a small assistance to the Somali people.

More photos here

South Africa...alive with possibilities?

2010-04-09T22:29:00.004+01:00

Or is it?

Far too much has been in happening in this country in a really short space of time.

In reverse:

Julius Malema (Juju) angrily kicks out a foreign journo from a press conference when he merely points out that Juju lives in Sandton after Juju condemned the Zimbabwe opposition for operating out of airconditioned offices in Sandton.
Spokesperson for the AWB storms out of an interview that was broadcasted live.
Eugene Terreblance (former AWB leader) gruesomely murdered on his farm by two of his workers who admitted to killing him.
Juju sings a struggle song at a University of Johannesburg campus where he addressed students 'Kill the boer, kill the farmer.'

Most rational South Africans think these events are interlinked despite there being denials from the people on top.

Juju claims a whole lot and then some and is largely non-sensical. All he does is cause public outcry; yet nothing visibly happens.

The singing of the struggle song - that's subsequently been banned - was condemned by many South Africans. Not just white South Africans, not just opposition parties; but by blacks and whites alike.

What happened - nothing? He wasn't silenced by either the ruling party and of course the youth league will support him in all he does.

I've been reading numerous opinions - some people support him. A lot don't. There's a whole lot else surrounding Juju and many people are of the opinion that singing struggles songs and visiting Zimbabwe and all the other inexplicable things he does is merely diversionary tactics.

Unfortunately, it's working.

What upsets me most is that Juju firstly gets way too much air time.
Secondly - he insights violence, denies insighting it, attempts to portray that he's one with the poor people (there've been violent service delivery protests in parts of South Africa) and the people believe him.

Why?
I can merely speculate.

A month or so after the song was sung a well-known white supremacist gets murdered.

Violence never has been the answer. More so when it would appear a man was killed without being able to defend himself (he had been asleep and it's been reported that his house was broken in to and he was woken by the two workers who've been arrested for his murder. One a minor, another in his twenties).

I am in my twenties.
It's surreal to think that I was born and was raised when Apartheid was still very real.

It's surreal because at the age of 8 I went to a private school, with people of mixed race and can state that I experienced no discrimination based on the colour of my skin.

I am fortunate. More fortunate than most as many people couldn't afford private schools (and still can't).

I went on to attend a mixed race high school where black, white, coloured all got along. I attended university and we all got along.

Race is a big thing in South Africa. It has been and it will continue to be for a long, long time to come.

We now all (mostly) live in the same areas, frequent the same malls, and live together in relative calm.

This was of course until the underlying racial tension that we as a country have never been rid of was so thoroughly exposed.

A fair percentage of South Africans don't look at skin colour. People are people and this has been recognised.

However, there's the minority (and possibly a hidden part of the majority) for whom race is still a huge issue.

It's been said that what the killing of Terreblanche has done is expose that South Africans have not dealt with the past adequately.

This is not new information. Anyone who cares to look a little deeper and merely observe interactions (or lack of) will have realised this.

Apartheid is rarely spoken about by local South Africans...except if yet another movie is made about it. No-one speaks of what happened during the time when so many people were wrongly accused just because of the colour of their skin.

Yes, we have the apartheid museum - how many South Africans have visited it?
Yes, there are some memorials. Again, how many of us have visited them?

What about the man who lives out in a deep rural area, who knows someone who knows someone who was personally persecuted?

Yes, there's been escalating racial tension; more so in areas where there's still a definite divide between black and white.

But at the same time there are black and white South Africans alike who are condemning all that's been happening in the last two months or so. Many of us felt that Juju was trying to cause unnecessary trouble by singing a song calling for the death of farmers. There've been way too many farm murders without him inciting violence (yet denying it).

This racial tension that's been exposed (mere months before the kick-off of the soccer world cup) can be compared to a festering wound. A wound that's not been allowed to heal; the scab picked at and picked at, then covered in plaster with no further care.

Amidst this, and all else that's been happening in my beloved home country...is it still alive with possibilities?

I would like to think so. Cautious optimism. And the belief that there are enough sensible South Africans - of all races - who know better. South Africans who realise Juju should largely be left to his own devices and ignored. South Africans who know that being of a different skin tone doesn't mean they are any more (or less) human than the man next to him.

An example of this would be Juju and AWB spokesperson both lashing out at journalists who were merely doing their job.

What am I you might wonder?

I am a South African.
Then I am female.

And if you must know, I am coloured (for the rest of the world that would be mixed race...with mixed race parents).
Not that it matters.

PS. An excellent opinion on the death of Terreblanche and what it means:
http://www.news24.com/Columnists/Khaya-Dlanga/TerreBlanche-death-a-wakeup-call-20100406

The pursuit of happiness

2010-02-21T07:19:00.009Z

So, the new year has come and gone. I've started a new job, and it already feels as though I've been working for ages and ages.

Initially I was quite ok with the job...now, I don't know. Working in government is interesting at best, frustrating at worst - and a whole lot of other things in between that's best not mentioned.

I've moved cities - Johannesburg really isn't the prettiest city in our country. But you're either of the hate it/love it school.

I don't hate it...but I don't completely love it either. Best described as a stop-gap; for me at least.

I've discovered a few places I like, and a few more I've yet to visit, so it ain't all bad.

Street performers remain a favourite - and a I came across an acrobatic troupe at one of the (numerous) malls in the area.

Soccer fever has grabbed the country (well, it's intensified); with the world cup kicking off in just over 100 days!

Johannesburg isn't as green as other places...can't really expect much from the busiest city in SA can you? But if you look long, and hard enough there are mini-retreats.

Like the zoo...not a big fan of zoos, but they have their uses. And a break away is one of them!

I'm mostly coping with changes. At times I'm most frustrated and this past week has been one of the worst. But it is now done! And I'm happier for it.

Right now I'm thinking of a plan, need to put it in to action.

In the meantime... I remain in the pursuit of happiness

Best of '09 Challenge

2009-12-27T17:37:00.004Z

20sb posted a challenge for December; I'm not going to take part in the entire challenge, just a few that has some meaning to me in the past year (and it's going to be 3 posts in one).

25 December: Gift - What's a gift you gave yourself that has kept on giving?

This one's easy!

And it links to a self-gift from 2008. My slr!

I absolutely love my slr, and the more I take photographs the more I want to continue taking photographs.

I bought my slr as an early Christmas gift to myself a year ago. Within the last year I've done three photography courses - two on the basics, and one on post-production. Of course, they don't come cheaply! Half the time (when I'm not going on ad nauseum to some poor soul who dares ask me about photography) I want to hit my head against the wall...why oh why did I have to fall in love with such an expensive hobby!

The equipment!
The courses!
The printing!

Do I regret any of the money spent? Of course not.

How this gift - of learning more about photography - has kept on giving; I looked into doing a full time course in photography, and possibly changing careers (another story for another day!), and one meeting where I just wanted advice regarding how to approach things I was offered provisional acceptance.

Now, I know it's not an actual acceptance, but the offer of provisional acceptance, based on a handful of photographs, from a meeting where all I was expecting was advice...an amazing feeling!

And a sign, if you wish, that perhaps I'm not living in my own world.

That perhaps my photographs are actually that good.

That I could possibly change careers...with a lot of determination, a little faith, and plenty of stubbornness.

Of course, there's SO much I don't know yet, and so much I still need to figure out.

But one thing it is...a gift that has kept on giving - not just for me as a person, but to the those I capture on camera (at least, that's one of my aims)

26 December: Insight or A-ha moment - What was your epiphany of the year?

One thing I've more or less kept blogging about... aside from travel of course.

Change!

Change is a constant.

No matter how much I want to fight it, or ignore it.

It's not always easy, and trying to run away from it is pointless.

The amount of change I've undergone in the past year is crazy. Not only work-wise or my wee bit of travel experience, but personally too.

A fairly huge epiphany for me: I know more about more myself than I think I do. I'm capable of more than I think I am.

My decisions have not yet failed me, I'd like to keep it that way.
I should believe in myself for than I do.

Family and friends - priceless!

27 December: Social Web Moment - Did you meet someone you used to only know from her blog? Did you discover Twitter?

Nope, did not discover Twitter. Micro-blogging, not really my thing. Facebook is more than sufficient. People really do not need to know what I'm doing or thinking every second of every day.

I've not met anyone who keeps a blog, but I've met a few great people off a social networking site/forum. Interacting over the net and finally meeting up irl - fabulous. They've all added to my year.

One in particular deserves mention - I don't tend to blog about personal things, but meeting someone via the interwebz who you get along with online and in the real world, who becomes a best friend! Fabulous.

Here's to interweb friendships becoming real life friendships and continuing from strength to strength!

Some may say online friends aren't 'real friends'; I beg to differ, because sometimes your online friends know more about you than your 'real friends'. If only because they're there when you are having a bad day and are arbing online hiding from the world.

Of course, most things online should be taken with a pinch of salt, but not everyone's a troll...and those who you get to meet in person - and they're as great and true in reality. Worth treasuring, and definitely a real friend!

My favourite City

2009-12-22T21:25:00.012Z

It's been a while... transitions ain't easy, but I've settled in to it (and one can't really get up to much when searching for employment).

Just for more change to occur (and I shouldn't be surprised!).

I now have a vehicle (yay) and a job starting in the new year (yay) that requires me to move...not so yay but required.

A couple of weeks ago finally made my way down to the Cape. The first time in nearly two years, and of course the first opportunity I've had since I've been back in SA.

Cape Town is by far my favourite city!
(although I think one day I'll have to have a fav city per continent...for now I'll just stick to CT being my fav).

The occasion - my sibling's graduation!

Graduating is always quite momentous despite the actual event being bum-numbing.

(It was also a not-so-subtle that I really am getting older despite not feeling like I'm in my mid-twenties; and then next month I officially enter my late twenties! eek...I think)

The Cape was glorious for the two week period I was there. I have missed my mountain

Our time in the Cape was spread between Stellenbosch, the Strand, Gordon's Bay, Genadendal and of course Cape Town itself.

There really is nothing like the South African sunshine, and we had plenty of it.

How does one begin to describe Cape Town?

For some, it's just a place to visit.

For others, it captures your heart and it's where you want to live.

Three guesses under which category I fall and the first two don't count.

The Cape has mountains, the ocean and winelands...a rare combination to be found in one place don't you think?

The best way I know to describe anything is of course via pictures

Freshly caught fish...and then of course one has to have SNOEK!

A trip to the Cape is not complete without having this yummy fish at least one (I really have NO idea what the English name is).

The Strand has a beautiful beach (and it's also a whole lot warmer than the beaches found in Cape Town like Camp's Bay & Clifton.

Fishermen at Sunset.

Stellenbosch is a town in the Winelands, and of course a student town (and where my sibling graduated from the University of Stellenbosch)

Onward to Genadendal - the first missionary in South Africa. It's a historical town, and the missionary station established there was Moravian. The Church is still there and there's a museum with the history of the town.

Gordon's Bay and the Strand are so close one may be forgiven for thinking they're the same place. The beach is not as great as the Strand, but being right on the beach front is always awesome.

Had some great finds...

Then there's Cape Town...

From the District Six Museum ( a must! www.districtsix.co.za) to the Cape Coons (also known as the Cape Minstrels)

And let's not forget Simon's Town (with Boulder's Beach and it's penguin's although I didn't go this visit)
That, more or less covers my wee cape visit (for more find me on flickr; I've embarked upon a 365 project - some days I have inspiration, others not so much, but I'm beyond Day 100 so it's all good).

My parting photographic gift: panoramic of Cape Town, as viewed from Silver Mines Nature Reserve

Transitions

2009-09-05T08:35:00.004+01:00

Or Patience really is a virtue.

Transitions are never easy.

Being home, and still not having things sorted out is of the most frustrating things I've undergone recently. And it is not for lack of trying!

How is one to find a job when there are none advertised? And then getting around...let's not even go there.

At a time, as little as a week ago, it seemed as though things were looking up, at least a little bit. But alas, things don't always go the way you want them to....so it's back to waiting.

Many people I've spoken to have said once you go back home after having been abroad it will never be the same and of course, it's not.

Not only because I've never really lived at home for the last however long, or because everyone is already sorted out and I am presently where they where a few years ago, but because I now have to get used to a whole new system.

Who would've thought that coming home will take getting used to - but it does.

I've been told so many things by friends and family, but I really don't think anyone realises how tough it truly is. Most of what's been told to me I already know and have already done and my hands are tied until something happens in response....response time is s.l.o.w!

Too slow!

And I need plenty of patience to deal with this transition period that looks like it's going to be last a whole lot longer than I hoped or expected!

(and let's not talk about the itchy feet to get up and go somewhere and do something...but, really can't afford to at present! frustrating!)

Imminent Homecoming

2009-07-29T13:53:00.007+01:00

My time in the UK has come to an end.

After eighteen months, surviving shitty weather, awesome travel experiences and gaining new interests I am headed back home.

Change is never easy, despite it being constant. And I've experienced many changes of the past eighteen months. Least of all, growing as an individual.

I've been asked a number times now what I think of the UK - the time to leave it fast approaching (the time being tomorrow!).

My reply has been:

I don't like the weather. Because I don't! It's iffy at best...and just about mildly warm in summer. Right now, it's raining. And cold. And the same temperatures as it is back home where it's winter. But back home...there is sunshine! The Brits cannot deal with temperature extremes. Apparently 25 centigrade is a heat wave (summer, as those in the Southern Hemisphere would call it, lasting all of about 2 weeks this year) and when it snows, London comes to a standstill. Case in point: London in February this year when the UK had their heaviest snowfall in however many years it was. No buses, no tube, no train, major delays at the airports... ridiculous really.

I made the decision months ago that I'll be headed home. And I'm happy I've made it. As much as there's plenty of opportunities here in the UK - like going to Paris for a weekend if you so wish - it's not all about earning pounds. Although money does make the world plod along, there's more to life than just that.

Back to what I think of the UK...

It's been good. I've learned lots and successfully accomplished my goals upon entering the country a year and a half ago - gain work experience and travel.

I've more than successfully accomplished them! And I've gained two new loves :)

[side note: you know it's time to return home when you start complaining about a public transport that works...when your country of origin barely has one that functions. Bring on a car...I miss driving!]

How I feel about returning home...excitement and dread.

Starting from scratch is not something I relish (nor is living at home again, even if interim), but it is something that needs doing. All part of my choice and right now I have no idea how things are going to work out, but I trust that they will.

More change.

My one constant.

I've mentioned time and again - the travel bug, it's bitten. And I have the opportunity I've had to live and work in the UK to thank for that. This experience has just filled my mind with 'travel goals'... now, just to figure out how to get the goals out of my head, and into reality.

I've been blessed and fortunate in my time here.

Cheers England.

Venezia

2009-07-27T20:51:00.008+01:00

From Austria back to Italy...and YAY! Good weather is back!

And about time too...having been sick from Milan through to Austria (funny how I think in terms of places I visited instead of time..time really is relative when travelling. Most of the time I don't even know what day of the week it is!) and had grey weather, sunshine was most welcome!

Twas another long day on the bus, but we did stop at the highest Mickey D's in the world...right by the highest bridge in Europe, near Innsbruck...and the view was pretty cool

Watched the Full Monty en route...movie doesn't fail to make one laugh :)

Finally get to Venice, or rather, the hostel outside of Venice, as staying there will just be ludicrously expensive! Check in, find my bungalow (which I had all to myself for 4 days...bliss baby, after a month of sharing my personal space it was most welcome. Another girl I'd met also had a bungalow to herself and as she put it, the cheapest we'll ever pay for a 'single' room, since it's supposed to be shared between three but wasn't.), drop pack, dig out bikini and head to the pool!

That water was most welcome after a long day on the bus. And that dip set the tone for my stay in Venice...every day after being tourist I lazed in the pool, soaked up some rays and just chilled.

Sunshine and blue skies...what more could a girl ask for.

Venice is a great city. No car traffic, it's only foot traffic and canals. Forget a map...because you will get lost, but that's half the fun in discovering a new city - getting lost in it. You discover things you wouldn't if you'd been following a map.

In Venice it's pointless anyway, you're unlikely to find the place you want and will just end up frustrating yourself. A girl was saying how they found this cool mask shop the one day, wanted to buy a souvenir and the next day spent goodness knows how many hours trying to find it again!

Did a walking tour of the area around St Mark's Piazza and the Doge's Palace. St Marks Basilica is insanely decadent on the inside (no photos allowed, sorry). The church itself took about 29 years or so to build while the decor took 400 years to complete!

Insane! There's detail everywhere - the walls, the floors, the roof and most of it is mosaic. There is the beautiful gold leaf piece behind the altar and the detail in it is astounding!

In Venice I didn't do too much...it being my last stop and my budget blown a few cities back...I thought it best to not spend an excessive amount of money. If you avoid the stores and just wander the streets and soak up the atmosphere, it's possible. This doesn't mean I spent no money...of course not! But I did (more or less) behave financially.

It didn't matter though..just wandering the streets you see so much, and it being Italy, and filled with tourists, people aren't afraid to stop and talk to you. Or fellow solo travellers stopping you to ask you to take their photograph...got chatting to this uber tall German dude that way... he was cycling through Europe...I mean seriously! Craziness...fun at times I'm sure, but definitely insane. And he'd started in Prague of all places!

The food was of course good. It's Italy... wander a few streets away from the big tourist areas and you'll find some really reasonably priced and oh-so-yummy food stores! And don't forget the gelati! Never forget the gelati...

Yes, yes...I love food :p

The strangest compliment I have ever received was from some Spanish guy...stopped me asking for a light (like I smoke), had no clue South Africa was a country...gave up trying to explain to him since English was clearly not his first language and I don't speak Spanish...and as I'm about to walk off he shakes my hand and tells me 'Congratulations, you're beautiful.'

To my credit, I didn't laugh in his face...but I did have a giggle after I'd walk off...certainly a new one! And yes, I said thank you...one has to accept compliments graciously...Italian men are very free with their 'ciao bella's'... One gentleman stopped me in passing, Ciao, I greet back, smiles, says 'bellissima' I reply with grazie and then walk off with a ciao....

How can a girl not feel good amidst all of this? :p

So being complimented aside...an awesome way to end a great trip I must say... I had fun in Venice, doing an impromtu study in black and white. Venice is a city that just begs for it...

My last day in Venice, post chill time in the pool of course, I headed back in to the city...failed attempt at sunset photos ( I realised that I needed to be on one of the islands off the main one to get proper photos) and I got lost anyway, after having found my way to St Mark's Piazza - successfully - numerous times..the one time I want to find it fairly quickly I get lost...such is.

I eventually got there - and it was the day Andrea Boccelli had a concert. It was a paid concert so they'd closed off the concert area...but acoustics and microphones and such, just because you couldn't see him...didn't mean you couldn't hear him...It was pretty awesome.

Couldn't stay until the end though, had to weave my way back to the main land to catch the last shuttle back to camp.

The next day was the last leg of my journey...return to Rome, with an evening arrival, just to overnight and head back to London town.

And that is the end of my euro trip!

I had tons of fun, met some pretty cool people and all it did was confirm that the travel bug has bitten good and proper and it ain't letting go!

So, here's to more travels...not only a return to the continent, but the rest of the globe!

St Johann in Tirol

2009-07-25T15:18:00.003+01:00

How was Austria...again wet, wet, wet!

Not as wet as Munich, but it was that iffy drizzly weather. The kind that lets up, then starts up again pretty much ruining all outdoor plans!

And yep, St Johann known for outdoor activities. I tell you, hiking in drizzle and mud ain't fun.
Apparently there are beautiful mountains surrounding the town...uh, gonna have to take that one on faith because I didn't see the top of any of them!

Not even in the closest big town - Innsbruck! Although, Innsbruck was a nice change from miserable weather because at least the sun shone through the clouds (even though they didn't lift!).

One activity that isn't affected by iffy weather is canyoning...was awesome fun! Abseiling down a 20m waterfall...and then jumping into the river from a height of apparently 7m though for some reason it looked higher. I looked at the guide like he was mad when he told me to jump! A few others had jumped before me already so I knew it was ok but still.

Of course, I jumped. Such fun! Yay for wet suits - with all the rubbish weather the water was pretty cold, not seeing the sun and all 10-12 celsius. Would definitely go canyoning again! I wasn't sure what to expect but it was over before I knew it... hour and a half went pretty quickly.

St Johann I shall share in pictures...because rubbish weather, well, not much to say is there?

Reflection on a cloudy day

Innsbruck

München

2009-07-25T14:06:00.007+01:00

How was Munich you ask?
My reply: Wet, wet wet!

The rain that started whilst in Switzerland didn't ease up (and this while London was having sunshine and blue skies! I mean seriously...went to the continent to escape the myth that is an English Summer - that only lasted about 2 weeks...but I digress).

Everyone on the bus hoped the weather would clear up...but alas this was not to be. Left Switzerland, lunched in Liechtenstein, drove through Austria and entered Germany...all with rubbish weather as company.

Arrive in Munich and checked in at Wombats...pretty cool hostel, as hostels go.

Of course, it was raining and after a long day on the bus really wasn't in the mood to do much.

Next day...more rain! But I was determined to do the New Munich Tour; seeing how it runs in all weather. It rained for the entire walk! Yay for waterproofs...but it eventually got chilly that I wish I had thermals on...and I don't particularly like thermals.

So much for summer was the though running through my head!

But, despite the really crappy weather, Munich was totally awesome! The walk was amazing and our tour guide just brilliant.

Finding out all about Munich, old history, to WWII, to modern day...it was pretty amazing.

Started off at the glockenspiel - does it's thing twice a day, and is pretty
much as exciting as the astronomical clock in Prague. The people
are more interesting to look at. Add that it was pouring down...standing in the rain, watching some mechanical thing dance around for like 10min or however long it was...not quite appealing.

The glockenspiel has a story though - dates and names, not my thing if you haven't realised yet. But it was a Prince, and it was for his wedding...and there are 2 knights - with lances - one French, one Bavarian...and of course the Bavarian one wins.

And there are mechanical men in lederhosen doing their jig...and every few years real men do it in person...that should be quite a funny sight.

From the glockenspiel walked the city centre - the New Town Hall, the Old Town hall, a few churches and quite a few memorials to WWII.

Munich, as it stands today is 64 years old. I don't know why this struck me, but for whatever reason it did.

The only buildings that weren't bombed in WWII were the glockenspiel and the towers of the Frauenkirk - and this was for practical purposes only. Radar had just been discovered and the Allied bombers needed some sort of reference. These two buildings were the highest, and pretty much in the city centre.

The rest of Munich - is all restored. Impressive!

Our tour guide, Matt, was really good. And he'd told us that the tour would take on the theme of memorials...WWII is not a particularly proud segment of German history, but it is an important one.

Munich had it's own role in all of this - not only was the Nazi party founded here, but a failed coup occurred, and the nearby town of Dachau and the first work camp, turned concentration camp, which then went on to serve as a model for the hundreds that were subsequently established. Many of the guards at Auschwitz were trained at Dachau...But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Munich has many many memorials - but subtle ones, not in-your-face ones. I think there's something to be said for a more subtle memorial. I'm paraphrasing Matt, but it rings true. It encourages people to find out more, do their own research, and in that way the memory of WWII won't fade. It will be spoken about, and speaking about it and acknowleding it is one way to ensure that such an atrocity does not occur again.

There are numerous plaques on buildings across the city, and you wouldn't know what they were unless you asked. Or looked. Matt only pointed out a few. It made me want to explore the city centre and find all these memorials (and see the rest of Germany, Berlin in particular).

The one memorial he told us about looks a bit arbitrary - it's bronze cobble stones in an alley between two parallel streets.
In the failed coup, Hitler and his fellow partymen walked down both these streets. They started down the one, saw police ahead, headed down the alley and continued along the other - Residenz Strasse...shots were fired. Policemen and Nazis and a innocent bystander were killed. Hitler ran in the opposite direction. When the Nazis came to power the propganda told a different story - he (Hitler) apparently saved a little girl's life. There was no little girl.

At the top of Residenz Strasse a memorial plaque was put up to this event, and a wreath was hung up too. Today the memorial is no longer there but you can see the marks left on the building, and the holes where the nails were.

Everyone that walked passed this memorial had to give the Nazi saulte - if they didn't they were harassed. Now, there was this alley, that bypassed the memorial, and all it added was an extra minute if that, to one's journey...because of the parallel streets.

A silent protest if you wish, to the Nazi regime was going down Dodger's Alley, as it became known as. The Nazis of course cottoned on to this and stationed a guard that the entrance of this alley. They wrote down the names of people using this alley, and if you had no valid excuse for using it (other than the unmentioned one of avoiding saluting the memorial) you were harassed anyway!

So, the bronze cobblestones serve as a memorial to those who silently protested the Nazi regime...and possibly even risked their lives.

Another memorial is outside the University of Munich. It is in honour of the White Rose movement. This was a group of students and professor who printed what was considered propaganda but was in fact the truth, about the Nazis.

These students printed flyers en masse and tossed them in the corridors of the university hoping that students will pick them up and read them. This went on for months. A brother and sister - Sophie and Hans Scholl were part of this group. Both were in their early 20s.

One day, the janitor who'd been sweeping these corridors for months now spotted them dropping the flyers...reported them to the dean, the dean reported them to the Nazis. Hans and Sophie and a third student were arrested and interrogated. They refused to give the names of the rest of the group but the Nazis eventually found out and in the end these students and their professor were executed.

For telling the truth.

The Nazis spared no-one.

And this memorial is dedicated to these brave students who wanted to do something, however small, about the injustices that reigned supreme under the Nazi regime

There's far more to Munich than just the dark history of WWII...there's Oktoberfest! And beerhalls (and of course the history from when it was founded...but that kinda thing you can research yourself...better yet - visit Munich)!

And really really good German beer! This from a non-beer drinker!

After a wet, cold three hour walking tour, yummy Bavarian Stew (2 helpings!) and beer was most welcome.

The rain remained...and after a cold day, the warmth of the hostel was most welcome.

I only spent two full days in Munich...not very long...but long enough to leave a lasting impression. I visited the Dachau Memorial and Concentration camp.

I've been asked so many times wasn't it tough. And I have to reply that no, it wasn't.

It wasn't because I have nothing to compare and even to begin to imagine what these prisoners went through. There are photographs, you get told stories...but there's nothing to make it hit home if you wish.

You really need to take yourself out of where you are, away from all the tourists and somehow transport yourself to a place - which as you're standing there is surprisingly clean, and roll call square looks vast - a place where roll call square held 20 000 men! And not just the 6000 the camp was build to house. A place where sanitation was the last thing on mind of the guards. A place where human filth reigned, and it was smelly, and lice were a problem (amidst many). Food was vile and you are treated as a second class citizen, or worse.

This is difficult to imagine. Very.

Through work, freedom. Cruel Nazi sense of humour

Roll Call Square

One prisoner's words on being in the bunker

A memorial to those who died and survived Dachau. Done by a survivor of the camp.

But it was an eye opener...and has given me a curiosity to find out more about the Third Reich...but not only that, to find out more about the history of my country.

Not the same...but definite similarities. South Africa must have similar stories! Now, to find them. To do the research...and seek out the memorials (if they are there...and if they're not...perhaps attempt to do something about it? Ambitious, possibly.)

The Alps

2009-06-22T19:14:00.015+01:00

Switzerland is a postcard.

You know how it looks in postcards, green, mountainous, snow covered peaks in the distance, stunning lakes, wooden houses, cute shutters and window boxes with pretty flowers?

That's how it looks in reality!

From the city of Milan I headed to gorgeous outdoors of the Jungfrau region, the village of Lauterbrunnen in particular. It was a long day's drive from Milan to Switzerland - but the beauty was reward enough after a long day on the bus.

Arrived at the campsite early evening, checked in and didn't really do much else.

I'd picked up a cold in Milan (started out as sinus issues...and I really hope I'm now nursing the last of it. I've been through dunno how many packs of tissues already!)

Lovely night...and sad to say, the only clear one of my stay in the Swiss Alps. I had a lie in on my first morning, while some people doing busabout went skydiving! I just couldn't bring my sick self to get up that early... in some ways I'm glad my time in Switzerland turned out the way it did. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

My first full day in Switzerland I did what was called the Murren loop - a cable car/train journey from Lauterbrunnen to Murren, past the Trummelbach falls and back again. It was a gorgeous day, and I was able to fully appreciate the beauty of the Alps.

I've used that word a lot - because it is beautiful.

There's an Afrikaans word - asemrowend - and that describes it far more aptly than any English one I can think of.

For those who don't speak the language, a poor substitute (but a translation nonetheless) would be the word breathtaking.

How does one describe being thousands of meters above sea level, up in the mountains, in little villages and looking down on the valleys below?

If there is one place (of the few I've seen, and having absolutely loved Italy!) you should see and experience for yourself it is the Swiss Alps. Nothing you see or read will ever compare to the experience of actually being there and feeling oh-so-small with the towering mountains all around you.

The villages I saw included Murren, Gimmelwald and Stechelberg. From Stechelberg I took a walk to the
Trummelbach falls - these are the only internal waterfalls still accessible to the public. The falls consist of ten waterfalls and is the drainage of Eiger, Monch and Jungfrau - glacial water at -2 centigrade - being inside and viewing the gushing of the water is a chilly experience :p

Photographs won't do these falls justice.

How the water has shaped the rock and curves through the mountain...just the sound of the water gushing - how powerful!

Mother nature one definitely needs to respect.

After gawping at the falls, I headed back into sunshine and warmth and took a lovely walk back to Lauterbrunnen.

The Jungfrau region has many many hiking trails and is a fabulous place for both summer and winter sports! We were told that one cliff face near our campsite is famous for basejumping - I think I might have seen one on one walk I took on my last day - I'd just heard the whoosh of a glider opening (on the otherside of the valley might I add) - and there was definitely no sky divers around, so it had to be a base jumper as the glider opened quite close to the ground as far as I could see!

Day two was supposed to be my day to do my bit of outdoor adventure sport, but alas, I got rained out! And for the rest of the day it remained raining on and off, mostly on. Didn't do anything, found a book in the lounge, read, fell asleep and I guess continued recovering from my cold ( I really am fed-up of blowing my nose already! At least it is far less than what it was...going through four packs of tissues in a day - not fun!)

Day three...and success! I went paragliding! It was such an awesome experience...and I wasn't nervous or frightened at all. There were two sisters from camp who went paragliding as well - we were all quite disappointed that we didn't go get to do it the day before and were hoping like crazy that we could. And we did.

There was cloud cover - the weather was pretty iffy for the rest of my time in Switzerland but hey...need to take such things in your stride (or end up not doing anything at all!) We went paragliding through Outdoor Interlaken- great pilots.

The one thing I didn't think about was how I'd actually get up in the air - yeah, by running down a short strech of mountain! Perhaps a wee bit apprehensive, but still no nerves, it was a very short run (for me at least, being on the short side, the pilot did a bit more running) and then we were up and floating away into the clouds, through the clouds...and all of Interlaken and the valleys below us!

It was gorgeous - floating away above the world - wished it were for longer! It really is the dream of flying come true :)

It was an overcast day again, but thankfully not as wet as the previous one! Wondered Interlaken, grabbed coffee and then took the train back to Lauterbrunnen.

Went for a short walk later that afternoon, viewed the Staubbach falls, the falls closest to the campsite I was staying at, and viewed Lauterbrunnen from above. Last day in the alps and yet more rainy weather (if I'm not used to rainy weather by now then I never will be!).

Another chilled day, another walk, in a different direction, just soaking up the beauty around me. It was great having some chill time, even somewhat enforced chill time with the rainy weather and all.

Sometimes you're on this mission to just see as much as possible of a place and kinda forget to relax - even though technically speaking you are on holiday :p

From the Swiss Alps it was onward to Munich...

A Day in the Life of...Milano

2009-06-18T19:18:00.008+01:00

What's there to say about Milan?
It's a city - financial capital of Italy; fashion capital
One of the few buildings that survived WWII is the gothic duomo, and if you didn't know (I didn't) Mussolini was executed here.

Milan I will share in pictures

16 June 2009

from flea markets...

to designer shopping...

only 500 euro if you want to wear a cup on your foot!

to stores we commoners can afford

The playground of the rich and famous!

2009-06-14T19:42:00.014+01:00

...the Côte d’Azur!

It was an entire day’s ride to get to the French Riviera – but it was pretty. Italian countryside, that became Italian coastline...have not seen blue blue oceans in yonks!
Eventually we say Ciao to Italia and Bonjour to the Côte d’Azur ...still driving along the coast and getting our first glimpse of Monaco!

Thirty people a year are allowed to apply to become citizens – only costing $1 000 000.00 – and this does not guarantee that they will get citizenship. I can’t recall which famous celebs are citizens of Monaco – no tax here! But I do remember that Michael Jackson applied and was rejected!

The decadence of Monaco is INSANE! When the grand prix is on the one hotel (forget the name) is booked out – at only 8000.00 euro per night.

Drive through small towns and then we hit Nice.

Check in – bit of a hiccup here. I’d booked 8 bed mixed dorm, was put in 10 bed - and wasn’t very happy at all, no lockers or anything – just didn’t work for me! They expected payment upfront – in cash! Silly people, so I wander off to find an ATM, get back ask for a receipt...and then I was asked how my room was, I told the manager person I was expecting an 8 bed dorm as that was what I booked...he was like he could move me to a 6 bed. I accepted on the spot – no difference in cost! Much better room – and it had lockers underneath the beds!

I don’t like hostels without lockers...but other than that minor issue, it’s a decent enough place. I’d rate it better than the hostel in Siena for sure!

Opted out of the group dinner this time – and was glad I did. I didn’t like the menu options anyway – wasn’t in the mood for pork.

And guess what, they ate at an Irish Pub whilst along the French Riviera! And I only know this because there was supposed to be a walking tour to orientate us before hand – but it was just a walk to the restaurant.

Of the people I met in Florence also came to Siena, so had dinner with them at a French restaurant near the markets (or at least where the markets are during the day). That was good food – three course meal and of course I was stuffed by the end of it. Really need to stop with the three course thing – my waistline and my budget won’t be happy with me if I continue this way!

Had to have gelati – from a place with 96! Flavours – things like tomato and basil and thyme flavours! I had rhubarb, lavender and walnut – was good; the lavender surprisingly so.

First full day in Nice –and I day tripped Cannes. Walked the promenade and then I lay on the beach catching some rays and a much needed tan! Months of iffy sun in the UK I revelled in the sunshine of the French Riviera! I was surprised at how time flew when I decided to head back it was early evening; I couldn’t believe how long I just lay on the beach and chilled for. A welcome change from all the walking I’d been doing.

Another French meal – grilled swordfish and veggies – was so good!

Friday - cruise to St Tropez with a stop in Port Grimaud before hand - it's called 'Little Venice' I guess because of all the bridges but other than that - uh, not like Venice at all!

The boat we were on supplied free drinks...a potent Captain's rum punch, beer, wine and soft drinks...

Heard gossip about all the stars in who presently live, or have lived in the area. In Millionaire's Bay we were shown Bridget Bardot's house, Mohammed Al Fayed's house ( Dodi's dad) and this house with a green dome where apparently uhm, adult films, are made.

Who knows how much of what we were told was true...but it was a pleasant cruise and St Tropez is a quaint town (when all the tourists disappear - yay for not being there in peak season!). The sun was just starting to set when we cruised back...and it was just beautiful!

Saturday wanted to go to Monaco but the trains (well staff) were on strike. Not sure why; so there went that idea.

Nice it was instead – a walk up the one end of the Promenade where an old castle stood gave a beautiful aerial view of Nice – new town, old town, beach front. Walked along the promenade afterwards and then lay on the pebble (and very eina) beach of Nice! Many people have straw mats and some have the inflatable pool floats – great idea!

But with a beach towel and correct positioning you can get comfortable :p Swimming is another story – when the tide pulls you in, you sink...in rocks! And it is quite sore – unless of course you could be bothered to get past the pain, and wade deeper – or wear shoes (although some people – kids mostly where playing in the water).

Catching rays is awesome...and this time ‘round you can see I got a tan (surprisingly had no tan lines from lying on the beach in Cannes; I guess the regular application of Spf 50 sunscreen works!)

There are of course topless bathers – the beach is perve central for men not used to seeing topless women bathers! And even men...wearing speedos but having paunches – wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong!

Nobody cares, everyone lets it all hang out – flab, paunches everything.

Dinner and a wee night time walk around Nice and along the beach front – lovely evening.

Sunday and off to Monaco. Great views, all along the coastline and plenty of uphills! Saw the changing of the guards at 11.55 – nothing overly exciting really, tourists are funny people though (and yes, I know I am one :p )

Was going to attempt walking to Monte Carlo Casino, but the heat, and the fact that I was going to have climb downhill and uphill made the decision to use the bus easy!

Pricey, beautiful cars everywhere, but alas no famous folk.

Then it was back to Nice – after waiting for an hour due to train delays...repack and then an early start tomorrow...to return to Italia!

Tuscany

2009-06-13T21:49:00.009+01:00

Siena is a quaint town – managed to see it all in one afternoon.

I left Rome early Friday morning and on the way to Siena had a bonus stop at Orvieto – such a lovely small town.

Cool looking marble church – from the outside; never got to go in because somehow the hour allocated flew by.

I arrived in Siena, along with the other (4) getting off mid afternoon, checked in and headed into town.

The hostel we stayed wasn’t the greatest but it was a place to sleep and it was clean.

The town is lovely, narrow little streets, cute shops, many many food stores – wine, cheese, pasta – and all looking very very yummy!

The main ‘hang out’ place in the town is Il Campo. This is the piazza in the centre of town and here a bi-annual horse race is held. We missed the horse race by about a month. I saw postcards of this event and I really don’t know how that many people fit into that small area!

After our wander about town, headed back to the hostel and just chilled – first early night of the entire trip.

We were all quite glad that other people got off at Siena because that small town by yourself – it would still be quaint but not the same as having other people to hang out with.

Saturday was a lie in day (seeing how there really was nothing urgent we needed to see or do in Siena). Made our way back into town mid morning, bought goodies for a picnic lunch and chilled on Il Campo – good food, lovely place to just soak up the atmosphere.

It’s amazing how different a place can feel – Friday had this small town vibe, and Saturday was crowded with tourists taking day trips to Siena.

Last night about town grabbed a meal – was divine Tuscan cuisine.

I had toasted bread and sheeps cheese drizzled with Chianti honey and accompanied with two pear slices as a starter. My main – aubergine ravioli with a tomato based sauce.

All of homemade, all so so yum!

I know aubergines aren’t the greatest vegetables – I had my doubts, but the way it was described on the menu made it sound fab – and I was not disappointed.

Desert – gelati of course! I’d been having gelati daily since I arrived in Italy, kinda decided to make it my unofficial rule of this trip :p

Sunday, woke up poured with rain...and it being Sunday public transport of course not as frequent and we were catching a lunch time bus out of Siena. Bummed around the hostel waiting for time to move along so we could move on out the hostel – seriously not the best atmosphere! But it is the hostel in Siena and being on a budget, fussiness is curbed!

Siena to Florence!

(only one hour’s drive)

Stopped at Piazzo Michelangelo for aeriel view of Firenze – pretty – before heading in to town and checking in.

Central enough hostel – within walking distance of everything you want to do and see within Florence.

I’d opted in for the group dinner – and it wasn’t even Italian food, and mediocre at best. The biggest disappointed was that they didn’t even serve gelati – but ICE CREAM! There is a difference in taste, trust me!

And this in the place that is also known as the gelati capital of Italy.

Other than the mediocrity, the company was good. Didn’t stay for a karaoke do afterwards – I really did not like the feel of that bar/restaurant and the loos were SMELLY!

A group of us headed back to the hostel and chilled on the Terrace bar for a bit. Nice-ish view of Florence by night – you could only really see roof-tops and the dome of Florence’s Duomo.

On a Monday all the museums in Florence are closed – so, if you do make your way to Florence and are an art buff, do bear this in mind.

Did a wine tour of the Tuscan, in particular the Chianti, region.

The countryside is just beautiful, if you don’t love Italy in which ever place you first arrive – Tuscany will do the trick!

First stop – can’t recall the place’s name – tasted four local wines, 3 reds and a white as well as olive oil!

The olive oil was just divine. Especially the Truffle Olive oil. And don’t forget the 30yr old Balsamic vinegar, sweet and oh, so yummy. And only 45 euro a bottle (which is actually reasonable cos I saw it for 60 at some other shop in Florence)!

Alas, I bought neither the olive oil nor the balsamic – no space...and my budget. I do have the web address somewhere though...so maybe, just maybe!

Oh, the wine was good – Chianti, Chianti Classico, another red and a white. Their tasting is a whole lot more than what I would pour for tasting!

Another wine farm – this time we were shown around the vineyards and in the distance we could see the medieval town of San Gimignano.

At the second stop tasted a white (better than the first), a rose and red (too dry for my liking and by then I’d had enough – but still not as much as the others around me – and I didn’t finish it).

We had ‘lunch’ there too – more of an entree really: bread salad, 3 types of Salami, bruschetta (yum!) and pecorino (sheep’s cheese) drizzled with Chianti honey – not melted this time, but still really really yum!

The Tuscan region is known for its wines, olives, cheese (pecorino) and meat.

There are meat stores everywhere! As our guide said – if it moves, they kill it and eat it!

Our last stop was San Gimignano – a town which contains the best Gelataria – having one awards etc etc – and making the oddest of flavours, like rosemary and basil (or some sort – together!)

I was not that adventurous – chocolate, lemon and cinnamon flavoured; the cinnamon was surprisingly good!

Wandered around the town along with all the other tourists and enjoyed the views of Tuscany.

The symbol of the Chianti region is a black rooster.

The story goes that way back when (sorry, there is limited space for dates, seriously!) Siena and Florence needed to decide on the borders of their regions. Initially they wanted knights to go to war but then someone suggested that they get two roosters and when the rooster crows a knight from each area must wake up and start walking, where they meet this will be there border.

Florence had a black rooster and Siena a white. The Sienese fed and pampered their rooster making sure it will crow, the Florentines kept their’s hungry.

This paid off – the Florentine rooster awoke crazy early and started crowing...so the knight started walking. We were told that the well fed Sienese rooster was so content he didn’t even wake.

And this was how initially the border of Florence/Chianti was 12km (if I remember correctly) outside of Siena.

It differs today, but I don’t know the details.

The tour was an all day thing, head back in to town and I went a wandering, had dinner with of the people I met and then bed.

I was optimisitic and wanted to go to the Uffizi and Musea d’Academia – but couldn’t get tickets reserved – the guy at the hostel was on the phone for like 5min and gave up. Pfft, what kinda holding is that?

I slowly made my way to the Uffizi, and stood the queue for like an hour before finally getting in and spending a couple hours inside. I missed one section though – more queues, and by then I’d had enough.

It’s slightly annoying that you have to pay for pretty much everything in Italy – Students get discount, and if you’re an EU citizen in a certain age bracket – you either get discount or free entry. I’m none of the above so full price it was – this and more queues stopped me from seeing the real David.

Instead I saw the fake David where the real David used to stand before he was moved to the Museu d’ Academia

Lunch – getting cultured by (trying) to absorb Renaissance art is hard work and makes one hungry! :p

More wandering the town up and down random streets; was good. Had gelati three times!

I had to make for the ice cream on my first day in Florence!

First one was so so. Second one was good, the third one was AWESOME! From a gelataria called Vivoli, out of the way and not where you find hundreds of tourists – but the shop is busy! Because it apparently has the best gelati in Florence.

Yoghurt, dark chocolate and lemon flavoured gelati – heavenly!

Last night in Florence, dinner, terrace, drinks, met up with some other people...and then chilled for a bit (ok, a few hours) before eventually heading to bed and having an early start the next day and catching the bus out of Italy to the Côte d’Azur!

Buongiorno Italia

2009-06-06T23:45:00.000+01:00

My first stop on my month long Euro trip was Rome, but it is howzit to Italy since half of my time on the continent will be spent in this country.

Rome is fabulous...it is said of Rome: Roma, non basta una vita

Rome, a lifetime is not enough.

I have done an insane amount of walking already (and this is only the beginning!) The best part is that I can take things at a more leisurely pace – none of this racing around like a crazy person trying to fit everything in (of course unsuccessfully).

Before I continue with Roma...my welcome to Italy – fairly painless. Prior to departure, queues at check in but that moved rapidly, no flight delays – we were in fact early. Breezed through passport control – checked my visa, stamped it, checked my face and handed back my passport – no questions asked!

And the reason for whizzing through passport control – non EU (probably the first and only time I’ll be somewhat happy I have a non-EU passport) There were very few (read, one person in front of me) people in the queue. Minor confusion at finding the correct baggage carousel...and then I waited, and waited and waited for my airport pick up. Called, tell me outside although email reads differently, tried calling them again as no-one outside – engaged for the next 30min. I was about to negotiate public transport – didn’t really want to with my backpack...when I got through, told me the driver was running late. So he finally comes.

And this was when I remember that Italian time may actually be on par with African time...this has been reiterated with the busses here – there’s no timetable up, and seriously, arrival times have been variable (at least as far as I’ve noted)

From one airport to the other (because driver was running late – had others to pick up) and finally arrived at camp – well, I’m staying in a bungalow – 3 bed shared. I noted when I booked, nothing about single sex, although I was hoping if I were to share it would be a chick – alas this was not to be.

I unlock the bungalow and there’s a guy standing in red boxer shorts with some sort of print. He mumbled something I didn’t hear, then he was like give me a moment to put on my jeans. So I close the door, and had to rapidly wrap my head around that I’m sharing a three bed bungalow with a total stranger – who’s male!

But it was all good, cool dude, into photography, and I even picked his brains with a few questions I had!

My first full day in Rome I went to the Vatican (different state and all even though in, or rather, within Rome) and entered St Peter’s Basilica – OHMYGOSH...is that place HUGE! It is just amazing! I went to the top of cupola and had an aerial view of the church before seeing it eye-level, and then a view of the ancient city...spectacular!

Met with my roomie later and we basically just wandered the streets of Rome – taking in of the places I’d seen previously...but this time shooting with my baby :p

Trevi fountain, Spanish steps, Pantheon, Piazza Navona...and however many little other piazzas you tend to happen across in Rome. We wondered somewhere beyond the Spanish steps and came across rollerbladers in the park – was fun watching them.

Roomie headed back and I stayed wandering some more.

Now, Paris..France...is like the place for PDA...yeah right. Think again.

Make that Rome! Admittedly, it may be Italy, but I’m yet to see!

I’ve never seen so many displays of public affection – like the nauseating kind, not the cute, aaaaaah swwwweeeeet kind. For many couples it’s ‘get a room already wouldya!’ In the park I took a walk to the one end and saw about eight couples in the area – all in various stages of PDA – from girl perched on wall, guy standing in front of her, to full on snogging, to legs intertwined on a bench and snogging. There was even a gay couple (at least, those guys looked stood mighty close and not in the way you would see straight male friends stand. At all. Ever!)

Made my way back to camp and ended up chatting until dunno when.

Day two – the Colosseum, Palatine Hill and the Roman Forum – spent HOURS just here. Spent, what I consider, quite a bit on a walking tour but it was well worth it. The Colosseum is massive – 76 entrances – used to be way more when it was originally built by Vespasian, seating between 50 000- 80 000 spectators. Events from festivals, to sporting events to gladiator fights were all held here.

Palatine Hill and the Roman forum were pretty sweet. Rome really is an ancient city. I know I’ve said so before, but I can’t help but be amazed. There’s thousands of years history in front of you – and a lot of it is still being excavated today!

I’m really not even going to try share the history – if you’re interested, you are on the interwebz after all...better yet, plan a trip to Rome! Take a tour – you’ll never find out anything about half the stuff you see in front of you if you don’t!

Take the Roman forum; there are two temples at the bottom of the Forum. At the time the Roman Empire was at its peak it was Pagan, and most Emperors were deified and had temples built in the honour. When Christians invaded, a lot of the buildings were destroyed as the Christians were very much anti-pagan, but somewhere along the line instead of destroying everything they blessed it and made it holy instead, took it over and usually made it a church.

One such temple is that of Austina and his wife, there’s a story behind that temple (which will just lengthen and already long entry ;p). This temple is from around 700 odd AD, Rome flooded often, the city used to be quite low and part of the temple was underground. Come the dark ages – 1600s, Christian invasion, take over the temple, try to pull down the 30 tonne solid marble pillars to no avail! There are cuts in the pillars where the ropes were placed trying to pull down these pillars. I should add that by that time the pillars were at least 30 feet underground.

The temple next door – that of Romulus – little boy of four who died, dad was an emperor, had him deified. That temple has two solid rare Egyptian marble pillars – Rome was full of it, until it was all, shall we say, claimed, by the Vatican. That marble is worth the going rate of gold today. Not only that...but the bronze door, which actually predates the temple is 1700 years old, and still has a working lock and key.

Now if that is not fascinating, then I don’t know what is!

I was absolutely exhausted by the end of that, grabbed late lunch and rested my poor feet for a few minutes before doing more walking and just wandering around Rome.

Getting lost is the best part of being in a foreign country or new city, discovering all sorts of things! Eventually you find your way to some place you recognise.

Piazzas, side streets, fountains, churches, quaint cafes...all just lovely.

My last day in Rome had me walking for hours again. Surprise :p This time I tried to find all the piazzas and other spots I’d missed previously. Got to all of them eventually – amidst getting lost and ending up at the Trevi like three times or something. Everything in the centre of Rome is in walking distance, but there are many side streets so getting lost is easy. But it’s fun. Just head in the general direction you want to go and eventually you’ll get there.

Mouth of truth – I’m happy to report that my hand is still attached :p

The area around the mouth of truth, side street and photographer heaven. There’s also far less crowds and more locals.

I chilled on the Piazza Popolo for a bit, eating gelati (of course!) and then headed down a street I’d not been down previously.

I came across the old man, who, for lack of a better description had an outdoor art gallery – using interesting bits and pieces and entitling them with amusing names. It was along a wall behind the Temple of Augustus and he told me that they were offers to Augustus.

The most random thing I’ve come across yet, but such a lovely old man. It is also the most innovative way I’ve seen of getting money. There’s the usual street musicians and beggars – some face down on the ground with a crutch close by, others with deformed legs on skateboards and then you get mothers with small children.

I took photos – of course, but seeing it in person, I think it was the highlight of my day. And I’d seen so much of Rome that I just absolutely loved.

'The absent minded tourist'

I did a night tour of Rome - found out more history, some repetition from my Colossuem, Roman Forum tour – but this is never a bad thing seeing how there’s just so much information! Need some way of trying to retain it all.

It was heaving – with tourists, and locals. That may have been because it was a Thursday night...or else just because it’s Rome. On this tour found out about another area of Rome I just didn’t have the time to wander around. Next time! Then it was time for a repack and bed seeing how the next day I officially joined busabout on my month long euro trip

Onward to...Siena!

A day in the life of... London Town

2009-06-06T22:58:00.006+01:00

Saturday, 30 May 09

Croeso Cymru

2009-05-30T22:39:00.021+01:00

Welcome to Wales

(so the grammar may be wonky...but you get the idea :p )

Spent a week - well, 5 days - in Wales and it was fab! The weather was typically Welsh - bit of everything, but thankfully not much rain so it was all good.

First stop on day one was the town of Blaenavon and the coal mining museum Big Pit. The South of Wales was known for coal mining until Margaret Thatcher stopped it (forgive me for not remembering the year - my head can only hold so much info, and dates usually don't cut it! )

We had an ex-miner take us through the mines and explain how coal mining was done and what it involved. Not only the technical aspects but the way of life. Because it was a way of life and with the end of coal mining it ended the careers of many. Not only that, but so many men suffered from a type of pneumonia due to the coal dust.

It was intriguing - how mining was originally. From women and child labour (children as young as six) to the changes made; as simple as installing shower blocks for the men, and the difference this made to their home lives.

Nothing powered by a dry cell was allowed underground - and that included my camera (sigh), reason - it affects the signalling system. Although the mine is a museum it is still classified as a working mine and so has to adhere to mining regulations. Best of all - it doesn't cost a cent! Uh, make that a penny! This is all part of the Welsh Assembly's initiative allowing free access to some heritage sites/museums.

From Big Pit made our way through the Brecon Beacon National Park - oh so pretty, pity all we did was drive through it.

That's the only thing with tour's like these -they are but a taster to what a place has to offer!

Take Hay-on-Wye...my heart broke when we arrived in this town. It is known as the second hand bookstore capital and do you think I bought a book!?!

Not a single one! Instead, I had to compromise by taking photographs only. Poor compenstation I tell you - being in a town with so many many book stores (more than 35) - and cheap! - and not buying a single one.

Self control - being on a budget and not having the space for any books! To make matters worse the Hay Book Festival was on and we didn't even get to go since we only had about an hour in the town.

Way way way too short - I could spend an entire weekend in that town and I'm sure there'd still be more books to browse and purchase. There's just something about the smell of books - be they old or new...and in this instance the smell of mostly old books...awesome!

Hay-on-Wye to our first overnight stop -Caerdydd. I didn't really do too much, having been there before, arriving late and it being a bank holiday.

From here we left the south and headed up north - to beautiful Welsh Country side... rolling green hills and plenty of sheep! Throw in a ruin or two, quaint small towns and the Welsh language.

It is a lovely language to listen to - as is the case with most foreign languages I guess.

Had a bit of a weather change, but at least the rain held off. We had many a-stares being in bright yellow bus with Gorgeous on the one side, Wild and Sexy on the other and something insulting for an irishman on the bonnet...

We stayed in a farmhouse on the outskirts of Snowdonia. It was just us, and it was good. Group dinner (el-cheapo, working out at just over two quid a head - score!) - some cooked, some cleaned...and we all became known by a vegetable or fruit, as linked to your name, for the rest of the trip.

That night I saw my first starry sky in ages...was beautiful. And I even saw a shooting star.

From the farm house, made our way in and out of the Snowdonia National Park for the next two days. We stopped at Conwy (pronounced Conway...don't ask) - a seaside town with a castle...and Britain's smallest house. It only has two bedrooms, and no ablution facilities. It is now merely for tourists to view as it has been condemned.

Back in the Snowdonia National Park - pity it was quite cloudy; we didn't get to see the top of Snowdon. Despite this - it was, of course, still magnificent. Had a strollette (our tour guide's words...not mine) to a waterfall on the Watkin path. If we'd continued on the trail would've made to Snowdon...but alas, no time (and legal requirements about being led on a trail...the UK has a shiteload of paperwork for pretty much everything I tell you!)

Onward to Beddgelert (pronounced Beth Gelert) - this village has the grave site of Gelert, Llewylln (Lh-owe-lyn) the Last's faithful dog.

The story has it what Prince Llewylln was out hunting but without Gelert, and he'd left his baby behind (his mother having died in child birth). While Llewylln was away a wolf came, Gelert moved the baby from his usual room, covered him with a blanket then fought and killed the wolf in an adjacent room. Gelert was exhausted by the end of it all, and covered in blood but managed to drag himself to where he hid the baby.

Llewylln comes home, sees blood everywhere, the baby not where he left it, and Gelert covered in blood (asleep) and jumps to the wrong conclusion. Draws his sword, slays Gelert and Gelert's yelps wakes the baby...and it is only then that Llewylln sees the wolf in the next room and realises that Gelert was protecting his baby. It's said that from that day Llewylln did not smile again.

So this town is in memory of Gelert.

Then it was longest place name in Britain...I'm not even going to type it out - I'll let the picture do that for you...but it means: The church of Mary in the hollow of the white hazel near the fierce whirlpool and the church of Tysilio by the red cave.

Now why someone would name a place that...they alone know...but we're told it was to attract tourists way back when. And Llangfare-P G still does.

Next stop Caernarfan, another seaside town...also with a castle. You can still see the outer walls of the castle around the town. Had supper/dinner/tea...whatever you wish to call it, in a local pub.

Good food, but I don't think I've had so much starch all in one sitting before. I had Welsh pie - minced lamb and mash potato, and this comes with a serving of chips. I opted for thick ones - which were more like roast potatoes...but so yummy! I finished most of the mash, all my chips, and most of one of the girl's thick cut chips too!

It was the Barce - Man Utd game, we just stayed for the first half (most of us not being footie fans). What I enjoyed most was sitting listening to Welsh being spoken. It was so cool :)

More driving the next day...and another ruined castle - Castell-Y-Bere. More rolling hills and plenty of sheep. At one end of the castle all you could hear were sheep - baaa, meeee - chorusing from different sides.

The town nearest to this was Abergynolwyn - you know you're in a small town when the post office is only open 9-1 Monday and Wednesday and you have to ring otherwise!

Lunch was in Machynlleth and then we made our way through a small part of the Elan Valley. The water from here gets pumped to Birmingham. Or did - can't recall if it's still the case.

Stopped in another unpronouncable small town - this time the place where Prince Llewylln the last was beheaded by King Edward's (the first I think) army...without them knowing it was him. And we saw the well where his head was allegedly rinsed off before being taken to London where it was put on a stick and paraded around

Yes, I know...it is all a bit morbid.

We slept in Mexico - seriously.

A hostel called Mexico, and had Mexican food, and it's decorated in Mexican art and crafts...nearest town was Carmathan - but not near enough to walk to...so it was just us, and I think two Englishman who were going cliff diving (or somesort) the next day.

The last day had us making our way to Caerphilly, and Caerphilly castle. I think it is the second biggest castle in Britain (after Windsor). Then it was the town of Caerleon - Roman baths, Roman barracks and Roman Amphithere - all left from the time the Roman empire invaded England and then moved up to Wales...and then the unexciting motorway back to London town

London town has been great - appears summer is here! Everyone out in shades, shorts and tees.

Next stop - the start of my month long Europe adventure: Roma!

My least favourite activity

2009-05-23T21:00:00.004+01:00

Packing!

I really do wish that I could be like Potter, wave a wand and get me and all my crap wherever I want to be in an instant!

Oh, the joys...no worrying about luggage being within weight restrictions, no trying to figure out how you're going to cope with stairs on your own, or peak human traffic...

Alas, teleportation is not to be.

I moan constantly whenever it is I have to pack - with all the packing I've had to do over the years you would think I'd have it done and dusted by now...uh, no!

A few days ago I undertook what will be my last proper pack for a while (sans complaints - travel bliss trumps the pain of packing)...half my life fits in a box and the other half in my backpack (ok, and daypack and skate bag :p).

The box is being shipped, the backpack comes with me... I really thought I was so good this time.

Minimising unnecessaries, even throwing away things (being a hoarder - it was surprisingly liberating to just get rid of junk!) and it was going well...until the electronics and toiletries!

It is at times like these when being a chick is just a pain!

We have nearly double the amount of toiletries a guy will ever need (uh, without taking metrosexualism to the extreme) and these things take up space!

Damn it.

And no, being dirty and stinky is not an option!

So it will be carried, and bulk up my backpack and make l'il ol' me look like a packhorse!

The only consolation - with time these things get used up so will get lighter.

And I only have to get my pack from the coach to my accommodation, dump it and then go be tourist!

Anyway, I'm not taking the blame...summer in England has not been summer! Being cold and getting wet - again, not an option!

One very good thing, despite looking like a pack horse - it's within flight restrictions (ridiculous might i add) weight limitation.

So...onward to travel bliss.

First stop: Cymru

Shades of Grey

2009-05-08T20:13:00.003+01:00

This all started with me sharing this link- an article by David Moseley - with some of my nearest and dearest.

I shared it because it's funny! And because some of what he's said rings true; what with seeing all and sundry, friends and friends of friends getting married - thanks to photos and status updates on facebook!

I got a nudge nudge wink wink, what are you trying to say...

My reply:

I'm sharing a funny article and no nudging or winking!

Sharing the article was somewhat case-in-point when a day or so later, I received a friend request from a now married high school friend!

I then dared comment and say that it looks like I will meet my record for being in a relationship with being single... and THEN I was told to stop wanting things that are obviously not meant for me right now.

I was fuming when I read this... and I've been trying to figure out why.

It is not about wanting what I cannot have. I was delivering commentary on my life as I see it - having gone from serial monogamist to terminally single (which is possibly another form of serial monogamy albeit with myself; but that's neither here nor there, and a topic I choose not to dig in to very often or share over the interwebz).

This change in relationship status was at first by choice, then by circumstance and now...it's whatever.

I digress.

It's not that I don't want to be in a relationship.

But it's also not like I'm sitting around waiting for some man to - heaven forbid - 'complete me.'

If I ever get to this stage - ever - I give permission to whoever to have me shot!

I have learned - or come to realise - that one can not be completed by another human being. You need to be whole by yourself, relying on someone else to make you whole is looking for disaster.

I have never been of the opinion that you need another person to complete you - be this person a significant other or a friend. Everyone has their own plans and lives to live; waiting around for someone is letting life pass you by.

I chose to embark on an overseas adventure by myself. There is no way I will ever regret this choice.

Further commentary delivered by of my nearest and dearest after I said that it's not about hunkering after something that I know is not likely to happen anywhere in the near future:

"That is what I meant. Great for the married people, but you are travelling Europe and how many of the married people can claim they've done the same thing. You should take a moment to think that perhaps you are the lucky one - that your married friends are envious that you had the guts to go out there and experience something they only thought about or dreamt about. Travel makes you see the world differently and not only because you left the motherland but because you meet people you wouldn't meet in day to day living, you experience things, and food and cultures you wouldn't at the bottom of Africa. Marriage changes you, and not just because you're married but because you now have responsibilities you've not had before."

I'm not disagreeing with any of this!

I have met people in my travels who have not left their home country - and have no desire to either. This train of thought completely baffles me.

However, in the end, it's their choice.

For one person, a house, a car and financial security is important; for me - spending my money on seeing a small corner of the globe I can currently afford to see is important.

Who am I to judge someone because they prefer to know where they will be five years from now when I currently don't even have a six MONTH plan?

For me it's not about the grass being greener on the other side (and wanting what you can't have, or don't have) - because I don't really think it is.

It is about recognising, or perhaps realising, that life is not black and white - but rather shades of grey ad infinitum!

You may be happy with what you have, but of course there will be times when you can't help but wonder what if.

This is human nature - there's no point in fighting it. Acknowledge it, think about it, and get on with living because life is not going to wait for you to decide now is the moment I will do the one thing I have always wanted to - especially when you've already had numerous opportunities to do it.

What is it that's forever being thrown around: Life is what happens when you're making other plans!

On Photography...

2009-05-03T18:00:00.004+01:00

This post has been a long time coming.

To say I love taking photographs would be an understatement.

My ideal - travelling the globe taking thousands and thousands of photographs! But, that's not going to be likely (any time soon at least!)

I finally bought a compact digital camera - my trusty Sony W90 Cybershot - with my first job way back when in 2007. I had a ball of time learning to use all its features, and a short while later - I had it sorted.

It got to a stage though when I wanted to do more and I just couldn't - not with a compact. I uhmmed and aahed so so long over getting a slr - being undecided about what to get and what to look out for. And then of course taking costs into consideration.

Important for me was getting something that will last a good few years at least - these things don't come cheap and we all know how the minute something electronic is released on the market it's already old.

My trusty sony - it has treated me well, and I've taken some awesome photos with it... I recall standing on top of the Norman Keep at Cardiff Castle - I was trying - unsuccessfully - to capture the view of the horizon and the autumn leaves. A girl and her friend came up to the top - by this time I'd already been there 10-15min just taking in the view before even starting to take photos, and the girl said to her friend how people should stop trying to take pictures the entire time and enjoy the view and the moment and whatever else.

(This from a girl who spent about 5min on top before walking back down the stairs - but hey, that's not the point is it?)

I stood there for a while longer, having given up trying to capture it the way I saw it in my minds eye but wasn't seeing on my camera.

Then a few months later - I decided to just go for it, spend the money and buy the slr!

An early christmas present to myself - my new baby - Nikon D90 with 18-105mm lens.

It's amazing how people take you far more seriously with a massive camera around you neck and you're taking photos of the view than when you're standing there with a compact camera.

Not fair really - because you can take really great photos with those little ones! It's when you want to do more than just capture the view or a moment that you run into a wee bit of trouble.

I've been sharing a lot of my photos here - anything pre-Scotland is with my trusty Sony, and everything post (well, most) is taken with my new baby!

Scotland was used to figure out how to do what - I managed quite well. Our tour guide was telling me about another group he had - and one man - basically had his eye glued to his eyepiece, viewing Scotland through a lens.

Scotland cannot be adequately appreciated through a lens.
At all.
Ever!

This of course did not stop me filling a 4gig memory card in 10 days - but - there are times when you have to stop. Enjoy the view, enjoy the moment - without the camera - because life cannot be lived through a lens.

Now I wonder, whether the girl a-top the Norman Keep would've told her friend the same thing if I had been standing there with my slr and it's huge-ish lens?
A couple of weekends ago I did my first photography course - and I fell in love with the discipline even more than I already have! I learned so much in TWO days...and there is still so much more to learn. Maximising on all the features and making my baby work for me - just wow!

Ever since then, the terms aperture, ISO, shutter speed, depth of field, light metering have been running through my head - looking at things and trying to think how and when I would use which ever setting. My camera has not always been at hand (having to go to work and all) but I've been trying to see the world through new eyes.

Trying.
Not sure how successful I've actually been.

Then there's blurring motion and freezing motion and playing with light and using light to produce shadow, keeping in mind things like a fast shutter speed you'll only get with loads of light....and and and.

I know it's the basics - and some concepts I've already used - unknowingly - the 'science' behind it, understanding why one thing will work in one situation but not in another - just awesome.

The only way to truly ingrain any of this is of course to get out there and take photographs! Lots of them!

I did my weekend course with the London School of Photography - and the teachers were both photojournalists - it was a great experience learning from people who have chosen photography as a career. The one teacher was Alex Mita- he discussed some of his photographs on his website - and what he used and what kind of things he kept in mind.

I could go on and on and on about my love for photography...but there's no better way than saying it in pictures :)

So, some new tricks I learned with my baby...

Voting...Internationally

2009-04-19T20:23:00.012+01:00

So... my beloved country has its general elections in three days.

And, it is going to be a fairly important one...what with the man who is president of the current ruling party having had a few hundred criminal charges just dropped against him some short weeks ago...

A ruling was overturned, allowing for South Africans temporarily out of the country to vote abroad - if you qualified that is. Initially I thought I'd missed the deadline - and I had - but they moved it, so I took the chance and was approved.

Wednesday past I made my way to London Town to have my say in the future of my country! Many people will argue that expats should not be allowed to vote for numerous reasons - like they don't live there...and have no idea what's really going on in the country.

Having come across a few South Africans...and other nationalities...who've not been home for years and years....they may not know all the nitty gritty, and they may, or may not, have family still living at home...but wherever you are in the globe - the country you were born in, and where you were developed as a person - it remains home.

Always will.

And because of this - what happens in your country will always always matter. Having a minuscule say - it is important.

I was in more than two minds about this election and the opportunity to vote internationally. The one thing I was determined to do was vote because I am headed home - and I firmly believe that not voting means you have no right in complaining about what the government does or doesn't do right or wrong!

I had resigned myself to having to just go home, and be - for five years before being allowed to have my say...but now that won't be necessary as I have had my say. It was a momentous occasion... one I've still not fully processed. It is one I'm glad I had the opportunity to be part of ... standing with other South Africans, for an average of two hours before entering the High Commission - South Africa House - on Trafalgar Square.

Many amused Brits and tourists looked at the queue of people and asked what we were waiting for...and the answer was met with a 'Oh' and off they went about their business...be it being a tourist or grabbing lunch. There was quite a positive atmosphere, and everyone waited patiently for their opportunity to make their X!

They only allowed 50 people in to the embassy at a time... I was very tempted to take photos of the patient waiting indoors, but I probably would've been told off, so didn't try!

I received my indelible ink mark on my left thumb and my ballot sheet - the man who stamped my ID told me 'Well done, I see you've voted in all the elections,' since I've been legal that is... made my X, double sealed in two envelopes, dropped it in the ballot box and made my way out.

There were two security guards standing just inside the door we exited from and one asked me what was wrong - I was mulling over the huge moment of actually taking part in my country's national elections in a foreign country! - I just shook my head I think...and then he asked me whether I was old enough to vote...I mean seriously.

S.E.R.I.O.U.S.L.Y!

I replied with...Sir, I am twenty five. And proceeded to walk out.

(this being thought I'm way younger than what I am is fast getting old...and everyone telling me you'll appreciate it when you're older just annoys me to no end...you are not the first person to say that to me...I recognise this...I even appreciate it...but the commentary...enough! Pick on something else - not that I apparently look seven years, if not more, younger than my actual age)

Happy I'd done my duty as a S.African citizen...I made my way to Regent's Park to soak up some of the summer sun, before catching a train back to Brum...

Paris at Easter

2009-04-18T19:08:00.019+01:00

The Easter weekend...what a great one it was.

It was just last weekend, but this week - although short - has felt oh so long!

Let's leave interminable weeks...

The best part about Paris, aside from being Paris, was getting away. The caged in feeling managed to dissipate and it all started with leaving London, heading to Dover and crossing the English Channel.

We left late Thursday and crossed the Channel in the early hours of Friday... It was new moon, or full moon - I don't know (should really pay closer attention) - which ever it was - it was a gorgeous moon.

Standing out on the deck, and just gazing at the cliffs of Dover - orange because of the harbour's lights - and then looking out over the Channel, with a trail of water lit from where I stood as far as I could see...all feelings of claustrophobia lifted - a promising start to what turned out to be a fantabulous weekend.

Arrived in Paris mid-morning - of course exhausted - only managed a wee nap on the ferry and dozing on the bus. Took walk around the area our hotel was in, but the girls and I headed back for a snooze before our evening plans.

And was that a much needed sleep - was too long to be nap, but then having a cold does that.

First stop - the Moulin Rouge. It is not the same seen during the day... and it was still very much light at 7pm.

A walk through the Parisian Red light District - it pales compared to Amsterdam :p and then the Sacre Coeur and Mont Marte.

Paris is such and awesome city, and even though I've seen the sights previously...doesn't make them any less amazing. This time though, I had my baby...and it's tripod :D

I knew it was Easter, but not being home and being in the UK (not the most religious of countries) there were no clear signs of this most sacred time in the Christian calender.

Paris though - another story. Walking the streets at around lunch time we saw parishioners slowly making their way back to the church, after performing the Stations of the Cross

To me the Sacre Coeur is just amazing...by day, by night...and the view of Paris from it is pretty awesome. The Good Friday Mass was on, but they still allowed tourists in to the church. I stood for a while, not understanding what was being said, but not really needing to either.

Lit a candle, said a prayer and made my way out to meet up with the rest of the group.

How can one not love the view?

The artists district remains a favourite - offers to be drawn, and enticed by the aromas of food from the restaurants in and around the main square... lured by the quaintness of the restaurants...

This was three course meal un...had way too many of them that weekend, but how can one not? It's been a while since I've had such oh-so-yummy food (food in the UK pales...to pretty much everywhere).

Took a walk back through the Red Light District to the Moulin Rouge... passing Le Chat Noir...for some reason I just love this black cat.

Had a great night's rest... I hate how being sick makes you oh so knackered.... rain was forecast for the weekend, but yay the BBC lied and it was awesome weather the entire time we were in Paris.

Saturday was a walk around parts of the city - Louvre, Pompidou, Latin Quarter, Seine, Notre Dame...it was such a lovely for a walk as well.

Lunch in the Latin Quarter - fantastique - escargot et grenouilles...in case you missed that - snails and frogs legs. Surprisingly delish - frogs in a white wine and shallot sauce - somewhat like chicken, somewhat like fish...with the texture of squid...terrible description, but not sure what else to compare it to! Add grilled fish and chocolate crepe... three course (well, three and a quarter - shared the frogs legs) meal number two.

I headed back to Louvre, taking in a small part - this time I wasn't so fortunate to be there the first Sunday of the month - but the two hours spent there was great. One has to choose what to see, and just make peace with the fact that you will not be see the entire Louvre in a day - or even two or three!

We all met up at the Eiffle that night to see it light up - always a treat - the one thing everyone associates with Paris (aside from it being the city of love and way way way too many displays of somewhat overzealous, need to get a room, public affection!)

And then it was Sunday...and our last full day in
Paris....oh wait...there was the Arc de Triomphe and Champs Elysees -
where I was told off with pointing - by a French Policeman for using my tripod...oops :p But, by then I had the pics I wanted anyway so it didn't matter

Sunday was very much a chill day spent in the gardens of Versailles. I would've loved to have gone in - but honestly - standing in a queue for hours to see how some royal from way back when lived in excessive opulence - and to share this space with hundreds of other tourists - did not appeal!

Not when I could be outside, soak up some sunshine and just enjoy my small square...along with other people enjoying their squares but not infringing on space!

The gardens are magnificent, and they will be more so when all the flowers are in bloom. I have it on good authority that I didn't really miss much on the inside...all I have to do is watch Marie Antoinette - which I have...so I'm covered :p

The only pity was that the fountains are not all the time but only at certain times of the day - makes sense, I know. But still.

Lunch - a picnic of camembert, cocktail tomatoes and a baguette - surprisingly filling!

The fountains were eventually switched on and it was quite pretty. I can imagine taking a stroll in the 1800s - in my outdoor drawing room (as the gardens are described), making small talk with Dukes and Dames, Lords and Ladies...

Dinner that night was another three course meal... somewhat shoddy service - but I guess that is what happens when a busy restaurant has all of perhaps three waiters serving diners on two floors...add having dinner at around 8pm, when everyone else is out too... it wasn't all that bad though - and the food was of course good The one waiter had the audacity to call me honey when I very nicely mentioned that we'd been waiting about half an hour for our main after our starter - which we'd ordered like 45min prior to that! I was like no, not honey!

A great weekend was had...and one minor, yet notable event since it certainly put a smile one my face....

Trip to Paris £300.00
Entry to the Louvre £9.00
Making my way to the Louvre and being chatted up by a local who told me I was beautiful
...priceless!

In my head

2009-04-05T17:30:00.003+01:00

I have way too much going on in my head at the moment.

And, it's doing my head in.

I have no idea what to about anything. There are plans and vague ideas and the number of times these plans have changed over the last, let's say month, is insane.

I've recently started a new job, and still getting a feel for it. The people are nice and all...but.

But, what I don't really know. I'm going to keep at it because it's only for a short while, should be good experience. And well, I need the money to see my plans to fruition. Seven weeks can surely not be all that bad can it?

I'm missing home and it sucks balls...

I have no idea what's gonna happen when I get home...and that sucks just as much.

I've been feeling caged in recently. It doesn't make sense as to why either.

I think it's the daily grind...
Work.
Commuting.
Nine to Five.
Public transport.

I'm over it.

I miss being outdoors... I need to get back in touch with nature and I don't know when, I don't know where.

My plans require massive amounts of saving - this will eventually get me out to nature! I'm not sure I can wait that long.

I may just have to and keep reminding myself of the bigger picture.

The reason why I'm involved in the daily drudgery of life...

Ignorance

2009-04-01T19:43:00.004+01:00

I've not come across such ignorance in the UK as I did today.

Started a new job.

One chickie asked me where I've worked previously and where I studied. So, I tell her.

She looked all shocked and surprised when I told her I studied in Cape Town - she asked ' There are dieticians Cape Town?'

The shock in her voice was too real to be an April Fool's joke. Seriously.

I have no idea what the look on my face said. But, I tried my utmost not to roll my eyes and give a reply along the lines of

' We have lions in roaming freely in our back yards and our hospital uniform is loin clothes!'

SERIOUSLY!

Told myself not to be mean to someone I don't know on my first day at a new job so I just kinda smiled and said, 'Yes, we have dieticians in South Africa.'

Honestly!

Public Transport!

2009-03-29T15:31:00.005+01:00

This is a rant...you've been warned.

Generally, I have no problem with the public transport system in the UK - because, it works. There are timetables - bus times, train times, metro times...and these various means of transport arrive, and depart, on time.

Usually.

The trains I've had no real problems with - if there are delays, they announce it. Train delays have yet to infringe on any of my plans.

Buses however...they've just been pissing me off lately. In particular, the one bus I need to catch to get to the rink.

It is never on time...always late...despite this - I've managed to get to my lesson on time. Today, however, it does not show!

I mean seriously, it was my last lesson before grading next week. I was sitting at the train station for 1 HOUR before a bus came..and then the stupid bus driver tells me that he is new and doesn't know the route...I could still have made the last maybe 10min of my lesson...but no...he doesn't know where is going.

I briefly burst into tears on the bus whilst waiting for him to figure out what's what, then I got off it. I burst into tears largely out of frustration. Hid behind the graphic novel I was reading. Kicking and screaming, throwing a hissy fit, swearing at the bus driver - is not going to achieve anything.

There is a parking bay where buses wait before they go to the respective stands. When the bus was about 10min late, I walked up and asked the one driver if he perhaps knows where the bus is. By this time I'd already called the travel line and all they can tell me is that the bus is due at such and such a time. I was like I know. It's not here. Where is it. This, they couldn't tell me. Gave me the providers number - and of course their office hours are Monday to Friday...didn't bother to hold on to hear the times.

So anway, this...insolent...bus driver tells me that everyone runs late on Sunday, when it is so quiet. He is even late. He doesn't know where the bus I require even goes to, and it's a different provider. He figures that this bus driver is having a cup of tea somewhere!

I turned and walked off...because if I stayed any longer I would have said something very nasty to him.

Instead I turn around and tears of frustration start welling up...and this frustrates me even more!

Urgh.

To say I was annoyed would be an understatement.

I very nearly went back home, since I was still at the train station...it was on time. Then I checked the other bus stops, figured there's a bus that goes close to where I want to be. The reason I only figure this out now, is because I don't know the bus timetables or routes...I only ever remember these things on a need to know basis.

Get a different bus, and then from it's stop to the rink was about a 15min walk. There's no point in walking to rink from the train station because I will miss my lesson. But today, I missed my lesson anyway.

On the way back... waiting for this bus. From the rink this time. It was supposed to come at quarter past and quarter to the hour. I get to the stop just after half past. Come quarter to - nothing. On the hour - nothing. Annoyed? Of course.

So i walk - to the the stop about 15min away of the bus that actually comes when it is supposed to!

This is not the first time I've had issues with this particular service either.

A few weekends back, I went through to London for a friend's birthday - I was counting on the bus coming on time so that I could catch the train - 2 trains per hour since it's a small station - it was 15min late...I missed BOTH trains that hour...so I had to wait ONE hour at the train station for the next one...and of course this delays my travel plans - as I was due to leave from a station in the city centre to London. Lucky for me - I had a rail ticket valid all day, and not just a particular train. Then of course, just to add to the delays, someone had decided - near a station about 30min from London, that today I no longer no longer want to live. We had a 40min wait while the tracks were cleared.

So.

I'm annoyed. And pissed off - because I missed my lesson!

This is the time when I miss having a car.

And...me bitching about the public transport in the UK is an indication that I've been here long enough to become accustomed to things running more or less properly because public transport back home is shite.

Most people have a car - the petrol tank may sit just above empty nearly all the time...but there's a car.

I have to plan things so that I get to the station in time to get the train to make sure I get to my destination on time...having a car, doesn't require all this planning. The times having a car sucks is when there's peak traffic (and yeah, ok...when everything decides to break down all at once), but otherwise...it's pretty good.

Gets you from A to B and it doesn't make you miss your skating lesson!
Hrmpf

The Underground

2009-03-27T18:38:00.006Z

On the Hammersmith & City Line

A mountain out of a molehill?

2009-03-18T17:59:00.006Z

Today's been one of those days.

Feeling out of sorts.

I was chatting to a friend about my imminent return home and I tell you - it's stressing me out. I didn't realise to what degree until I'd actually verbalised it. So clearly my subconscious must be working over time (again! *sigh*)

People are forever commenting about how small I am, becomes quite a drag really - but for someone who's so 'dinky' - most recent description - I think an awful lot.

I'm happy with my decision to return home, and I am looking forward to it. In the same breath, there are so many decision to be made before I actually get there.

I've been travelling alone -there've been off days and lonely times but overall it's been fantastic.

Before embarking on my travels I've not really been engaged in anything permanent.

Being a student - one of the least permanent things.
Travelling - same thing.

A gypsy is something else I've been called - I don't feel like one, but I certainly have been nomadic.

The permanence of my decision to head home is freaking me out. The responsibilities that will go along with all of this. I don't feel ready for it.

Starting from scratch - to say it's a daunting task looming on the horizon will be an understatement.

My friend told that it's exciting - I conceded that it may be, but that this doesn't make it any less scary.

Coming overseas, to a foreign, alone was a less frightening experience! And I think that says a lot.

I remember before heading to the UK that I was starting to doubt my decision - I refused to voice these doubts to anyone because I was not about to be talked out of my decision - that does not begin to compare to how I'm feeling right now.

I KNOW I should stop worrying about something that will only happen in four odd months time but you know that off switch in your brain?

Non-existent.

See the problem?

I'm looking forward to having a place of my own and actually having a place to dump all my crap instead of in boxes in my folks garage or all my belongings fitting (more or less) into two bags - as is the case whilst I'm here in the UK.

The process to getting there though - that's a whole other story.

The prime decision - picking a city.

It's home or it's my mountain.

My mountain - well it's my mountain. But the city you studied is never the same once you've finished. I'll always love it, and I know I want to settle there - and perhaps that is part of the problem.

Settling.

I'm not ready for that.

Settling aside - everyone I knew there will in all likelihood be gone by time I make my way there.

Home on the other hand - there's a friendship base I can tap in to. And that appeals. A lot.

BUT!

Then again, you cannot make decisions based on other people can you? Because everyone has their own plans. And their own lives to live. And deep down, making a decision based on someone else may just make you resentful in the end - this is the last thing I want to happen.

I realised all this when my best friend got engaged. And I was attempting to plan what next after my compulsory year of working post varsity.

What next turned out to be coming here.

Said friend told me that I should stop stressing. Of course. I know this.

And we all know this is something that's far easier said than actually done.

Said friend told me that it's not all that bad, and it's not necessarily adulthood - which is the way I've been looking at things - imminent adulthood (aaaaaaahhhhh!).

Pretend!

Said friend told me I'm a tough cookie - today was one of those days when I couldn't have felt less like a tough cookie. What with tears practically on tap whilst sitting in an open plan office. Not a very good idea.

The only way to deal with this is to actually just get on with it. Also, actually leave the thinking for when it's truly necessary (with me being an over-thinker extraordinaire I doubt it...)

So, here's to pretend adulthood, or as one of the badges on my bag says:

Sunshine and Blue Skies

2009-03-14T09:10:00.012Z

Something that is decidedly lacking in the UK -
except, today I was greeted by sunshine and somewhat blue, some what grey skies. So spring/summer may be on its way!

I've been back in the UK for 2 weeks now, after having been home for a sunshine refuel...and honeys - I am brown! For the first time in months :p (not sure how long it will last though).

There really is nothing like the African Sun. And African skies and thunderstorms.

You never truly realise you've missed something until you come across it for the first time in, well in my case, about a year!

Landing at jozi, relatively painless through customs - short wait for my mom - and then seeing her - it's amazing how much one can say with just one simple hug.

A simple one, but a long one. Spoke volumes, much more than I could ever put in words. And the thing is - it's not like a missed my family excessively. I guess, as spoken by the hug - I definitely did miss them.

Then, waking up on my first morning back home to the sounds of doves cooing... I was slightly in awe that I'd actually missed something so simple. It's so common back home that it's one of those things that just wash over you - but not hearing the sounds of doves for a year...

I didn't get to do all I wanted to whilst home (things like no longer having a car severely restricts you!) but the time I spent there was great. A recharge for the last few months ahead.

I've absolutely loved travelling, and of course I will continue to do so - but having the familiar around you is just fantastic.

I FINALLY got to meet up with friends I'd been chatting to online for ages and ages and it was really great. Getting to put people behind the chats and the insightful opinions shared online - it completes the partial picture I had. And I wasn't disappointed.

Great people online, great people in real life :)
(fully aware you all will be reading this - and no, i'm not arse kissing :p)

There's a downside to having gone home though - because in the first week back I was missing it acutely.

I've been travelling by myself - I would do it again in a heart beat (I'm still doing it), but sometimes you do wish you had someone, friends, around.

The next few months is going to be interesting - I've made the decision that I'm going home (what with Home Office being a pain and all about visas, I'm glad I made the decision before the rule changes).

I will have to do more planning in the next bit than I have in the past year! Eek. And no more pretending to be an adult - to the real world and proper responsibilities! One major decision is actually deciding where I want to work - depending of course on the availability of work!

But - there's no real point in worrying about it all now. You all know how the best laid plans tend to unravel when you least want them to, or least expect them to.

I've mentioned all this to friends - one said that I have actually been an adult. Foreign country alone and all.

Uh, yeah.
That's debatable.

I'm aware this is not something for everyone. But doing things alone certainly is not easy a lot of the time. What being alone has done is made me selfish - very. Because I've only had myself to look out for the last year and a bit.

Another friend said that I don't really have to join the 'real world' - which is, I guess, is also true.
Just because I will have to take on responsibilities - like getting a car (number 1 on the list for when I get home!) it doesn't mean that I have to let go of the way I've been. Sure, a few changes about how I approach things...but it ain't all that bad.

Supposedly.

Future me's worries!

For now, I need to start my list of must see places before I leave here - and making sure I have the finances to allow for it all!

Looking out...

2009-03-04T20:40:00.002Z

A year in review

2009-02-04T19:27:00.010Z

Only now you might wonder...with January long gone..well, 4 days gone.

But, it was Chinese New Year on the first...so still valid then :p

I came to the somewhat shocking realisation yesterday that I've been in the UK for exactly one year. I'm can't really say why I found it so shocking - I had myself speechless.

Maybe it's because this time last year I was very much a newbie in the UK, first time abroad by myself, as an adult. A very daunting prospect. And now, a year later...it's just wow!

So much has happened in the past year. I did not have a fixed plan, but despite this the year worked out really really well. This all started sinking in on Sunday when I saw the Chinese Year of the Ox celebrations at Trafalgar. It was only half through the day that I remembered this was the second Chinese New Year I've experienced... I saw in the Year of the Rat as well.

It's amazing how quickly time flies. I've always hated it when people say that (and the whole the world is such a small place) but it is indeed true.

I remember running around between the travel agent, the bank, the embassy, the mall for last minute stuff, packing, unpacking, repacking my huge ass backpack to get everything in!

Then landing at Gatwick on a chilly, but clear Sunday afternoon and making my way into London town following my friend's directions.

Being a tourist, finding a job, sorting out random bits of admin - NI number, bank account - all the annoying but necessary things needed for day to day living in the UK.

This past year has had many ups and downs, and there've been moments when I have felt like giving up and going home. But I wouldn't allow myself to do this. Not until I'd given being in the UK a proper chance. And I have.

A full twelve months And I've thoroughly enjoyed it. So there may have been more things I could have maximised on, but overall, I think I've done well. Very well.

Beyond growing as a person in various ways, I feel I've become a more confident, more sure in myself as an individual. I've discovered a passion for photography and been bitten - hard - by the travel bug! I've gained valuable work experience and met some awesome people.

The next year holds no fixed plans yet, just a vague idea. Ideas are always good - something to work towards. I have a date when I'm headed home for 'good' (please note the inverted commas because I doubt I'll ever be home for good!) and between then and now, certain things need to be achieved. What these may be will reveal themselves as the months go by.

This recession business is a tough one, but I'm fortunate that at present I have job. And I'm in a field where I will always be needed.

The plan roughly looks like this: finishing working out the time allowed on my visa, save and then travel travel travel! Taking photographs all along the way! And on that note... a few photographs of the snow around Brum - heaviest snowfall in the UK for 18 years and all

Food...

2009-01-31T19:08:00.006Z

A couple of weekends ago I made my to Borough Food Market, London.

Absolutely amazing...I could've spent a whole lot more time there than I actually did.

It will be impossible to fully describe the sights, the sounds, the smells - so I'll do it in pictures.

Hopefully you'll find them as mouth watering as what I did!

Glimpses into the lives of others

2009-01-23T23:22:00.004Z

On a train, going home from work:

Sitting on the train, headphones in and listening to tunes as is the norm on the journey to and from work. Stop at one station and people get on.

A couple sits down across from me. The girl looks tired. The guy looks concerned. On second glance the girl not only looks tired but ill. This may explain the guy's look of concern. No words are exchanged between the two, and I try not to stare blatantly - trying to figure out what the story may be. Instead I look at them via their reflection in the window - wishing I had my camera to capture this moment of complete humanness.

The girl is sitting with her eyes closed, breathing somewhat heavily - as one does with colds and flus. She holds his hand and rests her head on his shoulder. He, in turn rests his head on hers and holds her hand gently. Oh, so gently.

He turns. Looks at her. Eyes filled with concern. Minutes go by with him watching her and me watching them through the reflection in the window. He sits back in the seat pulls her a little closer and they both sit with their eyes closed.

On a platform, heading towards the exit:

Walking with all the other commuters along the station platform towards the exit. A father, son and daughter walk past me. The father is pulling along a bright pink duffel bag. The daughter is sitting atop the duffel bag and the son walks along the other side.

The little girl looks at her brother and raises her hand - giddy-up horsey!

On the train, stopped at the station and waiting to disembark:

Standing in the aisle, behind everyone wanting to get off. In the seat in front of me a guy is still sitting, typing away furiously on his mobile.

I glance down and take in posture - closed in on himself, sitting in the aisle seat but facing the window with his coat on the window seat. He is typing message after message. It appears that as the number of characters are reached he saves it and types another message.

I zone in on the phone and read the following:

"I've spent most of this journey typing a message you will never get"

My heart breaks silently as I'm standing in the aisle.

That one line I remember. There was more. It was seemed to be addressed to a girl who'd just broken up with him and he didn't understand why.

I get off the train, and shortly after glance back and see him get off with a big black suitcase. First thought - good looking. Second thought - I wonder where he is headed as he is clearly packed and off on a trip somewhere. Or moving.

In both cases he's suffering from a being dumped and my heart goes out to him even though he will never know.

Praha

2009-01-23T22:30:00.002Z

Praha - made my way to the Czech Republic from Scotland to London all in one day. Only in Europe will something like this be possible. Left Edinburgh at the crazy hour of 6am to make it to King's Cross St Pancras just before 10am so I could make it to Heathrow the required 2 hours before an international flight!

The flight was a short 1hr 40min - a flight this long will get you to Cape Town from Jo'burg! I had a window seat and a short way into the flight realised that - hang on - this is probably countries! I'm flying over! So so weird.

On take off - the best part of the flight - gathering the momentum and then taking to the skies and climibing - looked out the window and saw a river winding through a city and noticed the London Eye along it. It took a moment to come to the realisation that I was actually looking out over London. It looks so different from the sky. Oh, and add that it was a relatively clear day as well - certainly looked different! :p

Noted some poppies in the waiting lounge who I figured were on the tour I booked onto - I was right. And I think they were the only ones of the group I didn't speak to. Don't really know what the appropriate word for poppie would be in English. You know - those blonde, the-minute-she-opened-her-mouth-you-wished-she-hadn't kind of girls. Yeah. 4 of those. Thankfully I didn't have to share with them - our group was in 2 dorms - one all female, one mixed. I was in a mixed dorm, but it saved me from the poppies so that was alright.

Land in Prague to chaos at immigration! This mass of people who appeared to be going nowhere in a hurry, with no clear queues at all. Made it through customs and 2 other girls and I were the last of the group to be picked up from the airport. Others had already arrived by other means and were already at the hostel.

So - when in Prague - you may give the Plus Prague hostel a miss. The food was unimpressive, the rest of the hostel was decent (ensuite showers and toilet - but only one each to share between 8 people - not ideal! and no shower blocks outside of the individual rooms) but out of the way - although it was close the tram line - it wasn't really near any decent places to buy food or go out to. Best was to mission into the city centre. And in the icy icy cold of Prague - most people opted to stay at the hostel - with the minority of the tour group opting to brave the cold - so as not to be in the hostel. I was part of the minority.

Enough moaning about hostels - but a place to sleep and food - these are important things and the impact on your travels cannot be discounted.

Land in Prague and make our way to the hostel for a briefing of what will happen and then had a meet and greet of everyone doing the new year's tour. Only spent 3.5 days in Prague - a little to short really. And going over New Year not the best time to appreciate the city - too many tourists, too cold, and the goal is party more than appreciate the culture (yes yes, that does include lots of food and plenty of drink in smoky pubs and bars - but that's not all there is to it). I really do wish I had more time in Prague - and Czech Republic in general - so I could appreciate it's musical offerings as well as the countryside. Another time it will have to be - and at a warmer time of year!

The 31st was our first full day in Prague. Did a walking tour - 3 hours later, partly frozen, and having missed quite a bit of what was said since our guide spoke uber softly - defrosted with a coffee/beer/mulled wine in a smoky pub.

Despite missing out bits and pieces of the walking tour as I couldn't hear anything - it was good. Add, that I was trying to take photos as well - but gave up since it was either listen or miss out.

Found out about most of the city of Prague - Prague is a really old city. It wa built in the 13th/14th century and mostly survived WWII intact - save for the East wing of the hall where the Astronomical clock is now. This was bombed/shot at but the Nazis towards the end of WWII.

Prague has one of the oldest universities in Eastern Europe - Charles University. It is also the city where the first performance of Mozart's Don Giovanni was held (if I'm not mistaken). We walked through part of the old Jewish Quarter, along (a very crowded) Charles Bridge, Kampa Island (and the Lennon wall) and then found out the history of various parts of the city centre, churches and buildings.

Lennon Wall

There's no point in trying to share all that information here - it really is best hearing these things first hand.

I found Prague to be quite a dark city. And - aside from food - I didn't notice anything that could be considered typically Czech - but I guess this could be contributed to the fact that they were a communist country until the Velvet Revolution.

In the christmas markets they sold what was in all likelihood German sausauges (not that it mattered since they were yum!) and in all the tourist shops you saw tons of Babushka (Russian) dolls. There was one store where they sold football teams, cartoon characters and even politicians as Babushka dolls. Tourist shops abound and they all sell much the same.

After the walking tour we had the rest of the day free. I spent it wandering part of the city centre and the christmas markets - and taking the photos I couldn't whilst doing the walking tour.

It was so cold the water froze!

We had dinner organised that evening - mediocre. I didn't even stay until the end. We were supposed to have a midnight toast - but I really wasn't feeling being the restaurant section of the hostel on New Year's eve. A few people were insane enough to join me in missioning to see the fireworks over the Vltava River - and this is where we headed. Fireworks was going off most of the evening and after making our way to the city centre and attempting - but failing - to track down where the fireworks actually came from. We stopped at cosy pub somewhere on the castle side of the river to defrost, and then wound our way to the Charles Bridge.

Made it to the bridge around half eleven - and it was surprisingly not too full -that didn't last very long. Closer and closer to midnight the bridge got more and more crowded.

The fireworks was pretty amazing - it was going off from points all along the river, and I had a particularly good view of the display from one boat. It was a good vibe - and I didn't feel the cold too much with all the people around. That evening it was -4C. And I had on layers a-plenty.

After the countdown, made our way off the bridge. Another experience. Everyone pressing to get off - it was crazy. Most were quite patient and just went with the crowds but of course there were those who had to shove and push, or go in the opposite in direction! Silly people. It was easy to imagine how the crowd could become a dangerous stampeding mass.

Back to the hostel - and in time to make use of our free drinks vouchers (valid until 2am). Uh - let's just say mojitos poured with a free hand...

The next morning was a late start for everyone. Feeling a tad fragile, but not hung over - well, I wasn't hung over...everyone else was. Some people didn't leave the hostel. The rest of us headed out into the cold. The cold did help...but it was so cold, that even with a beanie with ear covers - I have no idea what the proper name is - i bought ear muffs. Those helped. Loads.

Wandered the city, and searched for a place to have lunch. Eventually found one - smoky of course - and had the yummiest goulash! I didn't try half as much local food as I wanted to, but ok.Goulash I did have and Pilsner Urquelle I tried - on recommendation from the czech guy on my Scotland tour!

I made my way to the top of the astronomical clock - no one else wanted to include dealing with heights whilst feeling fragile. Had great views of the city. I was on top when it was a few minutes before the hour. On the hour the astronomical clock does it's chiming thing and you have everyone gathering round to watch it, and one minute after everyone scatters.

That night I did a haunted Prague with one of the others - no one else was insane enough to brave the cold cold night at 9pm. That night it was -6C. More layering - 6 layers on top, including thermals and a windproof jacket, 2 layers on the bottom, 2 pairs of socks, gloves, beanie, ear muffs. On top I was warm but the cold seeped through on the bottom, and my poor toes! Freezing! Found out about some of the haunted areas and buildings in the city centre. I guess this just added to my view about Prague being a dark city. Drinks with some of the others afterwards - and a much needed defrost then back to the hostel.

Last day in Prague - spent part of it at Prague Castle, part of it popping in and out of tourist shops keeping warm and small part at the hostel waiting to be picked up and taken to the airport.

It really was too cold a day to enjoy the castle properly, or any of the architecture in Prague (not that I know anything about architecture, but the buildings really are amazing!) It started snowing and that was awesome - but cold. And slippery. But still awesome :D

When we were ready for take off the plane's wings had to be washed to get rid of the inch of so of snow that was on it!

Left Prague and headed back to London - stop gap and catch up with friends and included Madame Taussad's (need to tick those typically tourist activities one at a time) - and then headed back to Brum and back to work.

Wild in Scotland!

2009-01-11T18:54:00.001Z

Christmas spent in Scotland - and I couldn't have asked for a better one for my first Christmas away from home.

But, let me not get carried away.

Leaving Brum I missed my train to Edinburgh by 2min - was my own fault though - leaving the flat a few minutes too late and forgetting that I had to get through a throng of people to reach the train station - thanks to the Christmas markets!

So, forking out another 32 quid for a train ticket - money I so had not budgeted on... I set off to Edinburgh - a 4 hour journey turned out be more like 5 due to a delay at York but made it to Edinburgh, got a little lost trying to find the right street the hostel was on - negotiating roads in the dark is always more difficult than during the day.

Spent 3 days in Edinburgh before my tour started - quite like the city. More Christmas markets and signs everywhere about road closures over that time due to Hogmany.

Did some of the must do's - went to Edinburgh Castle, which is built on volcanic rock. Walked the Royal Mile - so called because on the one end is Edinburgh Castle and on the other is Hollyrood Palace where the Queen stays when she's in Edinburgh ; walked partway up Arthur's seat and just wandered the city.

Edinburgh Castle

Spent a good few hours at the castle since there's quite a bit to see. The view from the castle is pretty amazing - looking out over Princess Street - the main street in Edinburgh. You also see Princess Gardens - the Nor'Loch of old - where all of Edinburgh's waste was dumped in and in the 17/1800s earned the city the name of Auld Reekie since it smelled so bad! Arthur's Seat and the Harbour can also be seen.

At the castle is a war memorial dedicated to all the Scotsman who've died in wars.

It has a sombre atmosphere - and out of respect no photographs allowed. There are books with the names of all the soldiers who died in the various wars. There's an altar type area containing a sealed box with scrolls. These scrolls contain the names of soldiers who died in WWII (if I remember corrrectly) and inscribed on the walls, it says how their names will never be forgot. It also says how there are many whose names are not written down on scrolls but they will not be forgotten either. Above this container is a statue of the arch angel Gabriel.

One quote inside the memorial I found very touching. It reads as follows:

"The whole earth is the tomb of heroic men and their story is not graven only stood over their clay but abides everywhere without visible symbol woven into the stuff of other men's lives. "
- Thucydides

War is not something I like to think about, and really don't know very much about most of them - but this memorial brought a bit of moisture to my eyes and gave me goose bumps.

Did a walking tour of Edinburgh - another New Europe tour - found it intriguing. There's lots of dark stories about Edinburgh - from hangings to hauntings. Recounting them here really won't work so if you ever do make your way to Edinburgh - do the New Edinburgh tour (www.neweuropetours.eu)

Along the Royal Mile there's this heart (Midlothian Heart) on the ground, near St Giles High Kirk - it's the only legal place to spit in Edinburgh - and comes from a tradition of spitting on the jail door that used to be there. You will find that locals give it a birth while uninformed tourists walk right across it. eeeuw.

One church yard we visited - Greyfriars Kirk - is apparently of the most haunted in Edinburgh. Edinburgh used to be a walled city in the Medieval times and Greyfriars was the only church (and graveyard). It is said that within the graveyard are about 40 000 bodies - and on a rainy day - you can see bones in the mud! You also find out about body snatching, George Mackenzie and Greyfriar's Bobby - the dog who outlived his Master and stayed by his grave until the day he died.

From the grounds of Greyfriars you catch a glimpse of a really posh school - George Heriot School. Initally this school was set up for orphans, but today is one the most expensive schools in Edinburgh - and the apparent inspiration behind Hogwarts.

The tour I'd booked myself onto over Christmas started the 24th - made my way to this little narrow building on the Royal Mile - the blink and you miss kind...thinking to myself - what have I booked myself onto. It turned out to be the best tour I've been on.

The people I met, our tour guide - Bruce and just being outdoors, seeing beautiful landscapes and hearing legends behind how things came about - it was amazing. Add, that although 3 busses were doing the Christmas tour, and we'd booked out the hostels we stayed in - each bus only had 12-15 people on it. Nice.

First day of our tour we drove from Edinburgh to the Isle of Skye - this isn't normally done in a day, but the Christmas tour differs from the normal ones.

We find out about Robert the Bruce, how Mel Gibson had Braveheart all wrong and met Hamish, the hairy coo - saved from slaughter during the outbreak of mad cow disease as he was not with his herd at the time and so was not exposed to it (oh, and public outcry not to kill him)

We stopped in the small town of Killin that has the most painted view in all of Scotland - Dochart Falls

We continued on our way and entered the Highlands. The company had given each bus a gift - we played pass the parcel and with each layer unwrapped giving g the person a pack of sherbert and a lolly to dip, the last layer showed a bottle of Whisky for the bus to share - 10yr old single Malt Scotch Whisky, Aberlour. It was done by the next time we stopped - everyone taking at least one sip - what's germs between strangers? - who by then end became friends. :p

Entering the Highlands

Glencoe

From the Highlands, made our way to the Isle of Skye where we were going to spend Christmas and Boxing Day. Along the way drove passed the castle featured in Highlander (there can only be one...)

The tour company had organised caterers so the food we had was really really awesome. We were very well fed. We arrived at the hostel in Portree and it was nearly dinner time (We were the last bus to arrive - as would be the trend for the tour but it was all good - Bus #1 and King Bruce, totally rocked).

Buffet dinner - including haggis - which I did try the most miniscule amount of. Haggis, neeps and tatties to be exact. For those who don't know - haggis is the heart, lungs and liver of a sheep - boiled in sheeps stomach - then taken out and served with neeps and tatties (potato and turnip). Tasted okay - almost like kidney (which I last ate years and years ago), and very fresh. Not bad, but not for me.

After dinner we had live music. One of the caterers could play the guitar and the fiddle and he entertained us while we all sat around chatting and getting to know one another.

Christmas morning and we're greeted with a champagne breakfast. After breakfast - it being a free day - we made our way into the small town of Portree. A local told us about a short walk which we then did. It was a beautiful day. It may not have been a white christmas, but with clear skies, fresh air, sunshine and good company - what more could one ask for?

Portree Harbour

Our bus tended towards morbid conversation and on our walk two guys were talking about a horror movie they were going to write. When we made our way back to the hostel - for snacks and defrosting - after a game of movie charades, we ended up watching Seven (yes, the movie about the 7 deadly sins serial killer). The other busses had done their own thing, and when they saw we were watching Seven everyone of course commented about watching Seven on Christmas day.

Christmas dinner was the traditional - turkey roast, cranberry sauce, roast potatoes, veg followed by a real yum christmas pudding and custard (not something I tend to like). More after dinner music and just sitting around chatting, playing cards... really could not have asked for a better first Christmas away from home and my family.

Boxing day had us exploring a bit of the Isle of Skye. We stopped at the Old Man of Storr, walked up the hill (too small to be mountain) with spectacular views of the loch - never a lake! Once at the top we were told a story about faeries and how the Old Man of Storr came about. The story is about this man Sherman who saved a faerie's life. This faerie, Dermit, wanted to reward him but each time he asked Sherman what he wanted he said nothing. One day Sherman fell in love with a beautiful woman, Dermit happened to visit the day of his wedding and threw him the best party - with everyone coming from far and wide. Years go by, Sherman's lovely wife dies, and Sherman dies soon after of a broken heart. Dermit returns to find his property abandoned and asks about it. When he finds out he is distraught at the news, and in memory of his friend creates the huge rock - to remind everyone of the good man Sherman was, and the land that was once all his.

Old Man of Storr

Rock of Kilt view point

We had a late lunch in a local pub - very cosy, before heading back to the hostel in Portree

Last night in Portree, and another yummy dinner. The next day it was time to leave the Isle of Skye but before we did we found out about giants.

A giant, Skaharth (?not sure of the spelling) ran a warrior school. This giant really annoyed the town folk as she would take whole sheep and entire barrels of whisky without paying for anything. The town then approached an Irish giant - McCullin - to kill her. McCullin agreed. He enlisted in her warrior school and she taught him to fight. For months he learned sword fighting, hand to hand combat etc etc and in the meantime the town folk were getting impatient and reminded McCullin of his promise. So, one day out walking he drops behind Skaharth and pulls out his sword. She recognises the sound, draws her sword and they fight. For a long time - a few days. Her most precious belongings were her horses and the town folk free them, hearing their nieghing she pauses - this gives McCullin the opportunity to rid her of her sword. But, Skaharth has a dagger that she pulls out. Although McCullin has the chance to kill her he doesn't take it - looks into her eyes, she pulls out her dagger - and looks into his eyes...a long gaze, they both hold - and realise they're love. And then they get a shagging - for days on end - with sheep bouncing and nothing being still. The two get married and Skaharth turns out to be quite pleasant - all she needed was the love of a good giant. McCullin gets called back to Ireland - to fight - but he doesn't return. He left behind a pregnant Skaharth, and she named mountains after him. To hear Bruce tell this story - fantastic.

Near these mountains is a river - and Bruce told us about Mary McDonald. When she died, the town folk didn't know how old she was and guessed she was around 45. After the funeral and clearing out her cottage they found her birth certificate - turns out Mary McDonald was 95! The only thing the towns folk could contribute to her youthful looks was that Mary took a daily bath in the river. Bruce then proceeded to dunk his head in the water! Cold cold water - and of course, dared us to do the same. And we all did, save one girl. Certainly refreshing.

The McCullin Mountains

Loch

We leave the Isle of Skye and make our way to our stop for the night, Carbisdale Castle in Sutherland.

We drove along the highest road in the area - a little scary when the bus stalled on a bend and the handbrake needed a little help to do it's job! Amazing views though - we stopped halfway up, and had a birthday celebration for one of the girls on Bus #1

Saw a beautiful sunset (at 16.40) while we drove towards Carbisdale Castle. The castle is apparently haunted and the boys freaked out one girl with ridiculous ghost stories they made up. More good food - last night of us having caterers and after dinner, live music, and some Scottish dancing. The dancing part was good fun - although the first dance was a tad confusing with backwards, forwards, turns and going round and round making me dizzy.

There was this one girl on one fo the other busses - every night she'd be in her cow print pyjamas - top, bottom AND socks! It was like the minute we'd get to the hostel she'd get changed into her pjs. I was intrigued with the whole cow print thing! Even she partook in some scottish dancing.

Second last day of tour - and when we woke up we saw it had snowed! It may not have been a white christmas, but we did get some snow :)

From Carbisdale we made our way to Loch Ness, alas no spotting of Nessie - but we did have crazy folk taking a swim! (ok, so I was considering joining them but when I couldn't feel my toes even before entering water I was like, nevermind!) Four of the boys on our bus took a dive into the very cold Loch Ness, and on the other busses a few boys and some girls did it as well. Guarenteed numb extremeties for a few hours!

From Loch Ness we made our way to the battle field of Culloden - the last battle fought on British soil between the Jacobites and the British Army. This battle would today have been known as ethnic cleansing, as the Brits wanted to supress Scottish Patriosim. There was a time when tartan and bagpipes were illegal.

Everywhere I go - I hear about the Brits, wanting to control everything. It really is amazing how such a small country had control over most of the globe at one point in history. Safe to say, that the Brits screwed over many many countries and nations. My home country included.

Overnighted in Pitlochry, pub dinner and the last evening of hanging out with everyone. On the last day of our tour we headed to a whisky distillery. Whisky tasting, and saw the oldest cask of whisky in all of Scotland. It is nearly ready for bottling and it is rumoured that a bottle will cost around £15 000. Insanity!

After the distillery tour - and of course tasting- we headed to the home town of golf - St. Andrews. Nice town, and the most amazing ruins of St Andrews Cathedral. It is on this beach that the scene in Chariots of Fire was filmed

St Andrews to Edinburgh and we all met up for final dinner and drinks before saying goodbye :( Stuck in traffic (road closures), and we'd missed the torch parade which Bruce wanted us to see although I caught a glimpse as a headed to my hostel where I overnighted before heading to London to catch a plane to Prague.

Torch Parade along the Royal Mile

If you ever plan on making your way to Scotland and are looking for a tour company - Wild in Scotland (www.wild-in-scotland.com) is definitely one I'd recommend!

A White Christmas

2008-12-20T11:16:00.007Z

Perhaps it will be a white one. Perhaps not. But it will certainly be a cold one.

My first Christmas in the Northern Hemisphere. My first Christmas spent away from my family.

Both are momentous. I've quite enjoyed the Christmas vibe - the lights, the markets, seeing things like roasted chestnuts I've only ever read about in books and seen in movies. It is exactly how it is.

I've decided not to dwell on the fact that back home everyone is enjoying summer sun! And neither will I dwell on being away from my family. Sending my parents and siblings a Christmas card brought a tad bit of moisture to my eyes. It really was so strange sending a card home, when I've only ever spent this time of year with my family.

I've spoken to friends here - also missing home. I think this time of the year makes you miss family acutely. So, instead of dwelling on all of this I am embracing this cold cold weather and headed to Scotland!

Quite excited. More excited about my fantabulous new camera...but, that's for another blog.

For now, happy holidays :)

Surviving the sticks of Cymru

2008-11-27T19:45:00.010Z

Well, maybe not quite the sticks of Wales, but it came pretty close.

I was in the Vale of Glamorgan in the South of Wales.

Pretty.

But I didn't really get to see near as much of Wales as I would have like to.

Reason: transport!

I was working during the week when transport was fairly regular; Saturdays - taking a lie in into consideration - got the 50min bus ride into Cardiff and saw the city in parts, Sundays - well, Sundays the bus only comes every two hours! Not conducive to doing much of anything.

The hospital was pretty much in the middle of nowhere - on the edge of all the villages and there really wasn't much to do in the evenings. Add wonky mobile broadband - and I nearly pulled my hair out of frustration the entire five weeks I was there.

But, one finds ways around these obstacles. Necessity and all.

Patience may be a virtue, but it certainly ain't my strong point when it comes to anything technological! But, of course I had to patient to get anything done on line...so I just ended up doing very little.

Thank heavens for the library! Because I really do not have the space (nevermind the money to spend!) on yet more books.

Anyway, so week days aside, managed to make sure I didn't stay in on the weekend! Explored Cardiff a little bit each weekend.

The Welsh are really friendly. And, despite it having the reputation of being the wettest part of the British Isle - it really wasn't too bad the time I was there. Apparently I'd missed the really bad weather - and the fact that they had like no summer! Ain't complaining on that front.

And ooo, them Welsh boys are cute! :p

Cardiff is very different to the other cities I've been to the UK (which admittedly have not been many). I think mostly because in the middle of the city you find a massive park and a river, and there's Cardiff Bay. Something you certainly won't find in London (uh, not sure if the Thames counts!).

Being in Wales I decided to grab the opportunity to watch the Boks play live! One of my more insane decisions...seeing as I know diddly squat about rugby, and I was taking myself! Was good fun though - despite the start of the game being a tad slow.

The Millennium Stadium is amazing and just soaking up the atmosphere was great.

Before the game the streets of the city centre filled with people dressed in green and red, with this excitement in the air. I walked passed a group of Saffas who had taken the mega bus (possibly from London) taking photos with a homemade sign saying Barack Habana for president!

I'd gone ice skating at the temporary rink in the Sports Village being built in the Cardiff Bay area. I walked past the swimming pool to the rink - impressive! It had been a good couple months since I'd last been on the ice, but I'm happy to say - I didn't fall once :p

Had a wander around the Cardiff Bay area. It was the windiest day having a windproof jacket helped - a little! But all exposed areas were instantly frozen. The wind was so strong that a bird couldn't even fly. It kept flapping furiously but getting nowhere! It would then drop into another air current and move forward a little, then try to fly forward again...new meaning to getting nowhere in a hurry.

Cardiff Bay

The festive season is upon us, and everwhere was preparations for the season. Well, shops have been filled with christmas goodies since Octber...a pet peeve! Anyway, lights going up in the streets and what turns out to be an annual winter wonderland. And outdoor ice rinks. I wandered around the one set up in Cardiff - so typically cheesy! You've just got to love it.

That day was a drizzly one and I really didn't relish getting wet if I were to fall - and staying wet - for the rest of the day. I just observed - it's quite funny watching people at various levels of skating ability. At the start of a session everyone is all tentative, staying on the outside near the rails and then as confidence builds, going a little faster, closer to the centre. And then a fall happens! And tentative all over again.

Also, watching with envy the skate stewards - the ease they all have on the ice... that day I went and invested in a pair of own! Broke them in the following weekend - it was amazing! New found hobby, and one I need to get better at. Until I have that ease on the ice.

Outdoor rink, Cardiff

My time in Wales was by now approaching it's end...with each day closer to the countdown I got happier and happier. There is only so much time one can spend in a room in hospital accommodation (although the accommodation was decent).

I decided to go to Swansea before leaving. Just to see another part of Wales.

Pretty train ride to Swansea - although Swansea (city) itself is nothing particularly special. I know that there was so much I missed out on! I really want to do all the outdoor activities offered, but I really would rather not verkluim while doing it. So, back to Wales for the summer is the plan somewhere along the line.

Swansea also had a winter wonderland - with a rink. On this particular Monday the skies were mostly clear and the sun was out. Perfect weather!

Skating outdoors with the sun shining on my face was pure bliss! Add christmas carols and cheesy christmas tunes... It was awesome skating around the rink to Mariah's All I want for Christmas :)

Movie like, and very different to how christmas would be back home! And it's not yet christmas.

Waterfront Winter wonderland, Swansea

Mariah Carey - All I Want for Christmas

Swansea Marina

Right now...

2008-11-03T17:51:00.004Z

Right now...

I'm sitting here and wondering what to do.

What happens next?

I don't know.

Although it's still a few months it's time to come up with a plan of some sort. And I don't have one. It's not really panic inducing...yet...but it's not something I really want to think about either.

Right now...

I'm wondering about happiness.

Are we ever truly ever happy? Or perhaps contentment is better term.

Happiness is possibly a fluid concept - what may make me happy won't make another happy.

For people looking in at another's life - they may wonder what is this person complaining about - they have so much to be grateful for and happy about...but...these people don't know what lurks beneath the surface.

Right now...

I'm wishing I didn't have to do what I have to do.

I'm not enjoying. I'm going through the motions.

This is never a good thing.

Right now...

I'm wondering whether I am happy.

I'm not sad. I'm not upset about anything in particular... but does this make me happy?

Right now...

I wonder how long this state of being will last.

Sure, it's partly self-inflicted.

But I'm tired. Oh, so tired of the way things are.

Wishing it were different would make me seem ungrateful. Which, I'm not.

But...

There's always a but right?

But things have got to be better than this. This can't last a lifetime - because I won't be able to hold out that long.

I don't want to wish my life way...but I don't want it to continue this way either.

Yes, I've made decisions. These decisions I don't regret. I'd make them again.

I try not to live by regrets - so I go out and do things anyway.
Just, sometimes, I wish there were someone to share these moments with.

So if it's such a problem - why not make the change necessary?

The obvious follow-on.

The obvious reply.

It's easier said than done.

I've tried. Perhaps not hard enough. Perhaps I should try harder...but it's just so much easier keeping me to myself than attempting to make the effort when you know it's only for the shortest time and you'll be off and never see whoever it is again.

The wrong attitude. Perhaps.
Change it you say...
How I ask.

Right now...

I wonder whether what's happened has made me the way I am.

Right now...

I'm a little homesick.

But.

I know as soon as I'm there I'm going to want to go again. I guess I just need a bit of home-recharging.

I wonder whether being at home will change this partially self-inflicted problem...

But then, deep down I know what the answer is.

It's a simple no.

Where I find myself is not the problem. It's the circumstances surrounding being somewhere.

Right now...

I'm filled with the most contradictory emotions.

Ambiguity has become my near constant companion. I don't like it much, but I've made peace with fact that this is how matters will be.

I'm out in the sticks, but I'm wishing I were somewhere even more remote.
Just me, the open skies and nature before me.

No claustrophobic walls and windows that don't let in enough light and don't open wide enough to let in enough air...forget about hanging your head out the window and enjoying the view (albeit whilst freezing in the process).

Right now...

I guess I'm in a bit of funk.

Right now...

I think that
I say too much.
I say too little.
I say nothing at all.

Right now...

it's probably a good idea to end this rambling.

Where am I???

2008-10-20T19:15:00.006+01:00

So, I'd organised work after my Ireland tour - needing money and all, thought it would be a good idea.

Had a list, opted for Wales, since I've not been and I'd like to get to see the place. I was told job was in Cardiff. Checked out the hospital site - didn't tell me much of anything and google maps told me it was about a 30min drive from Cardiff... I thought it shouldn't be too bad. And then dismissed all thoughts of work (more or less, mini freak out when I received timetable whilst on tour) for 10 days.

Contacted the hospital, told there's not a station near here, but there's a bus that stops at the hospital.

My earthly possessions and I made our way to Cardiff... 4 bags - duffel (heavy!) on wheels, one bag containing sleeping bag plus odds & ends (no space in duffel), laptop backpack (plus textbooks) on my back...and sling bag with all the other important randoms.

Find the bus depot, asked where I'm to catch this bus...was given a bus timetable and directions - one thing - the Welsh, they are certainly friendly. At least my experience so far. Drag duffel along, finally get to stop - read bus timetable and according to me the next bus only in 2 hours... I was like no way...back to the train station. Had a hour wait there anyway - reread the bus timetable and saw I misread it. Oh well...

So, the closest railway station is Pontyclun - pronounced 'pontee-clean' - get there, and it's just a stop. And nothing else. Two elderly ladies kindly direct me to the centre of town - 2 min walk down the road. I'd asked whether it was far - I really could not drag that bag much further - I could feel the start of blisters, even though I'd alternated hands while dragging the monstrosity with pretty much all my stuff in it.

Get into the 'town centre' - at the local chippy (fish & chip shop) get a few numbers for taxi providers, call for one, 10min wait and off to the hospital. Only about 10/15min drive - but it's along the highway so definitely not walkable - unless I want to risk getting bumped!

Pay the six quid for the taxi, get room key from reception and head to the accommodation block. Decent. Ensuite bathroom. Shared kitchen. Doable for five weeks. Pretty hospital grounds, trees everywhere ,stream outside my window. Trees on the surrounding mountains/hills (whatever they are).

All in all not to bad right?

Uh, wrong! But wrong on a more personal level. This now becomes a rant...

So, doable accommodation - but there's limited public transport. Weekdays it's fairly regular busses at like 20min intervals...about 1hr bus ride to Cardiff (found out today it's 20/30min by car) since it stops in all the dorpies...and on a Sunday the bus is every TWO HOURS!

Bloody hell! What am I going to do with myself? There are decent shops closeby - but along the highway! So, not really safe to walk! 5/6min by bus - which I can't really do on a Sunday, since there aren't enough stores to kill 2 hours before the return trip!

So I arrived on Saturday, sort of unpacked, realised no hangers, went to Tescos - forgot to buy hangers. And only realised on Sunday that the bus comes two hourly... then I was like and now what?

Add, my mobile 3G broadband, is now mobile 2G - probably cos of all the trees...who knows...but not in my room, and not in the kitchen does the signal improve. So the connection is slow. And unstable....and it frustrated me near immediately. I don't know what I'm gonna be like after 5 weeks of this!

On the upside I do have internet...but that's not the point!

No car, and reliant on an infrequent public transport service means I have no idea how I'm going to get anywhere and see anything, before having to head back to catch the last bus! Argh!

Also, in Wales, they speak Welsh (duh). It sounds so weird. And looking at the spelling of places it's completely nonsensical - all signage is in Welsh and English. Have no idea how to begin to pronounce anything.

Cymru = Wales
Caerdydd = Cardiff

The taxi driver was listening to a rugga game (I think) and the commentary was in Welsh - all I heard was a whole lot of guttural g sounding words (like the Afrikaans g).

The hospital is in a place called Ynysmaerdy (at least in the postal address) - how that is pronounced I have no frickin' clue!

Hence I have no idea where I am!
(feels like unpronounceable, but pretty, arse end of nowhere!)

No idea what I'm going to do to occupy myself!
( I could buy out Borders - it's of the shops closeby, but I don't have the space to carry all the books! Add wonky net connection and even stumbling is going to drive me to frustration since pages will all take forever to open. and online chatting is constantly disconnected and reconnected and disconnected! and then can't reach network provider. and then disabled. aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!!!)

No idea how I'm going to get anywhere!

No idea really!

Ranted to a buddy online asking why do I do this to myself.

It was (is!) seriously daunting getting to a place and then realising where you acutally want to be is further along and then getting there and it's like riiiiiiggggght. now what. and i haven't even started work proper yet. Today was boring Trust Induction. Work will at least occupy 8 hours a day...5 days a week... Depending of course on how busy it all is. That I find out tomorrow.

Anyway, my buddy's reply - because you don't want to get attached. Which - if I'm completely honest, is probably true! And going into that is not a good idea right now. Ever actually. Reasoning like seeing more of the UK - may be true, but that's only part of it!

In elk geval...let me try and figure out how to fill my evenings for the next 5 weeks.
:/

Eire

2008-10-18T23:11:00.012+01:00

So after my whirlwind Europe tour I'd hit a bit of a slump...back and no real idea what do - conversations with fellow travellers I decided to do Ireland...10 day all Ireland tour - booked and everything just over a week before due to start. Add sorting out a job for when I got back - you know the whole wanna travel but need money to do it thing - and the time was more or less filled.

Fly to Ireland with Ryanair...had to pay for luggage! Honestly...may be a cheap airline but they get you on fees and what not! With a 15kg luggage allowance, and 1(!) piece allowed for had luggage - packing was like oi! Yeah yeah, only 10 days...but I am female - I'm slowly getting better with the packing thing...although I still wish everytime I have to do it that I could teleport!

Anyhoo - the day I leave the UK it's one of those miserable, grey, overcast and rainy ones - get to the airport 2 hours prior to check in - as stipulated...overkill for like a 45min flight, but I guess it is considered international...eventually board and rise above the miserable weather to sunshine and clear skies.

Flying over the Irish sea and seeing the coastline was amazing! This country (and Ireland) really is green - to be expected with all the rain this place gets! - and from an aerial view it really is amazing. Land in Dublin to find the weather still great.

Get into the city, check in to hostel, dump backpack (under 15kg!) and go for walk around the city. Didn't make it in time to get to Trinity College - I really really wanted to check out the library; another time!

Was a beautiful walk in the Docklands area and along the Liffy River. Had a decent night's sleep - first time in ages (and pretty much only time while on tour).

Of course the day the tour started it would be the weather the region is known for - rain and overcast! [img]http://emoticons4u.com/sad/1011.gif[/img] I know I keep going on about the weather but really...it's the one thing I don't like about this side of the globe! We did have days when the weather played along - more days where it didn't - but what can you expect if you chose to go travelling when it's autumn in an area known for rainy weather?

So day one had us headed to Derry. Didn't go directly there - saw part of the Irish countryside along the way and stopped at a few places before reaching Derry. We were informed that the Clarence Hotel's (Bono's hotel...oh and the Edge) penthouse suite about €2000 per night...and then you still pay €35 for breakfast...klomp geld!

Drove through some small town...and passed the Slane Castle where U2 got their break as the opening act for Tinned Lizzy. On this tour drove through many small towns - many with Gaelic derived names I really had difficulty in remembering. Add that a lot of the countryside looked the same and merged into one - was a bit difficult to distinguish one small town from the next.

Our tour guide and bus driver was hilarious - and knows so much about Irish history (his job I guess...but geez there's a lot!) It really was an info overload - my brain could only hold so much information about invasion and dates before it became addled.

Quick(ish) version - so Ireland was it's own country way back when. Monk's came- brought Christianity. Somewhere along the line it was invaded by the Celts - hence the Gaelic spoken (somewhat) today. Also invaded by the Norse and Vikings, and the English.

Vikings (and possibly the Norse) destroyed round towers - looking for things of value. Ireland has more castles than England, Scotland and Wales - 73% are in a ruined condition - partly because of a tax law the English set - if it had a roof you had to pay tax. So off came the roofs. And partly because of 'the fooker' Oliver Cromwell. English man who thought that by destroying all the castles the wealth would be redistributed back to England. Of course, that didn't happen. Add the famine wars from 1845-1849, which basically happened because the English screwed over the Irish and then more recent happenings with Ireland being divided into the Republic and Northern Ireland (under British rule) and you have a country with a whole lot of political drama.

First overnight stop - Derry. Derry (part of N.Ireland) is known for two things - Bloody Sunday (30 Jan '72) and for being the city with it's walls still standing. Oh, and also for having a larger Catholic compared to Protestant community. We found out a small part of the happenings of Bloody Sunday, and all the fighting etc in general between the Catholics and the Protestants - the IRA and the UVF... it's hectic!

Hostel we stayed wasn't particularly great - was a bed I guess. I really wasn't impressed with most of the hostels we stayed at - at least the Paddy's Palace ones. Went out for a cheap meal - the Irish version of the British Witherspoons. It was food I guess. Another thing I wasn't overly impressed with - the meals. Aside from feeling like I spent practically all of my money on food ( I think Ireland more expensive than the rest of Europe...) - I only thoroughly enjoyed two meals in the entire 10 days. Portions too big, too much fried food, meals a lil too heavy for my liking and I was over chips!

From Derry we made our way to Belfast - driving along the coast and stopping at more small towns as well as the Giant's Causeway - another miserable day. It was still beautiful and just awesome being outdoors, and the feeling of space! Also saw one of numerous castles that we were to see that had been destroyed by the fooker Cromwell.

In Belfast we did the optional and highly recommended Black Taxi Tour. It certainly was an education. There's way too much history, and it really won't have the same impact hearing it second hand - but I found it all quite fascinating. And it made me appreciate where I come from so much more.

Finding out about this war, how the Brits screwed over the Irish, Michael Collins signing over 4 cities of one county to the Brits and in so doing signing his own death warrant (he said so in his speech) and how - as usual - it's the people who suffer. Why they stayed is a bafflement - but after chatting to our taxi driver - who was of the first to hijack a bus and burn it to protect his property it made more sense. Trying to equate it to what happened back home can't really be done, but there are a few similarities. One major difference being that in N.Ireland - it's the majority that has the rule (not the minority as it was back in SA).

I didn't know much about British or Irish politics - and the little knowledge I gained now - politics is such rubbish. But there's no getting around it. Catholics are allowed to be public servants, but not civil servants - e.g. they won't serve in the army. Why? Cos the IRA's in government - and they're watching. Both the IRA and UVF (Ulster Volunteer Front - Protestant and pro-English) had (?have) no qualms about shooting people's kneecaps. Where you shot is an indication of who did it, one group shoots behind the knee and on on the side. The hospital in Belfast has specialised in knee replacements - by default, and not a reputation to be proud of. The Brits had put a gag on the media regarding the goings on of the UVF, Orange order etc - to make the IRA seem worse than they really were - where both sides were equally bad.

It's amazing how objectively the drivers were able to tell their stories, but I guess they've had time to get to grips with it all - even though it doesn't mean they've accepted it. When we were looking at the murals in the Protestant area of Belfast there were some kids around, gave a version of one mural, using a derogatory term for Catholics that had our guide shaking his head. As we climbed back into the cabs, these 10/11yr old boys bid farewell with unsavoury hand gestures.

Drove to the peacewall - it's huge and over 40 ft high, and people were still capable of throwing things over it. There's a gate between the Catholic and Protestant area - if trouble arises you have a few minutes to get to the appropriate side before the gates are shut.

The black taxis were used as alternate transport - since busses were all hijacked and burnt. People stayed because they couldn't leave. No skills, no money. Same old story. The skilled workeres were the Protestants. Our paddywagon tour guide mentioned somewhere along the line that Ireland's greatest export is it's people. A ridiuclous number of passports are issued per year when there aren't even that many people in Ireland. There's around 6 million people in Ireland today - this number is now only reaching what it was prior to the Famine was in the 1800s - 1.5million people left and 1.5million people died (unnecessarily) of starvation during that time.

Today, they are still trying to get N.Ireland back under the rule of the Irish - but of course there's a whole lot of drama. N. Ireland has it's own goverment - made up of Protestants (who hold the most seats and want to remain under British rule) and Catholics. They are at a stale mate of sorts since neither side wants to be seen agreeing with the enemy and so nothing gets done. Our taxi driver said they'll continue to try, but he doubts he'll see N. Ireland becoming part of the republic in his lifetime. Intense fighting between the Catholics and Protestants was as recent as 2005.

All this political drama just made me realise that shite happens the globe over. History keeps repeating itself and we foolish humans never learn. Each country may have a slightly different version of it but in the end they're all very similar, and all equally senseless. And it will keep happening. I don't know whether or not I held the British goverment in some sort of high regard - I'm not one to pay great attention to politics - but what I learnt, and with connecting a few dot with other random bits of history I know - they've certainly dropped a few notches if I did. It's quite atrocious the things that happen in an apparent first world country.

Right, enough rambling about a political situation I still know very little about.

From Belfast we headed back to Derry - not really sure why, but hey. Along the way stopped at some small towns and the took in the Irish countryside - much of the countryside blurred into one, and I can't really remember what day we were where...what with the weather pretty much being grey,town names being unpronounceable (and not always catching what our Irish guide said)...and it all looking very similar with green fields and sheep...and a few ruins in between, can you blame me?

From Derry we made our way to Cong - small town in N. Ireland - the hostel we stayed at was about 20min walk out of town but with the rainy weather we certainly weren't walking there. Before arriving in Cong we drove to the mountain where there's a annual pilgrimage for St. Patrick

This was the sign at the base - so basically it means, don't climb the mountain. Spent sometime in the town (?village) of Westport - made use of the supermarket there and bought groceries to make our group dinner in Cong. Just chilled indoors when we got there. There was a hazardous staircase - especially when wet - I went and slipped and fell down about 4 stairs, hurting my back in the process...later that evening, a about 4 people and our tourguide drove into town (with the big green bus - after having had a few drinks) and went to a local pub...when they came back, one guy went and fell down all the stairs when he was making his way to the loo (toilets were downstairs, along with the showers)...trip to the hospital in the next town and 6 stitches to the cut above his eye later...

Cong to Galway, and along the way passing the lake where the scene for PS I Love You was shot - of course it would be a day when it was pouring with rain... In Galway we met up with a few other Paddywagon tours, and got a few people joining ours. Had a group dinner at the pub Munroes - I had the Irish stew...it was really good! First decent meal I'd had all trip through. Listened to the live music for a bit - the drummer and guitarist were cute :p and then was supposed to go pub hoping - but the pub we went to afterwards was dodgy, and just killed the vibe...so some of us headed back to our hostel (the best one we'd stayed in - and not a Paddy's Palace)

Left Galway and drove along the coast through the Burren region - completely different landscape to the rest of Ireland - a very rocky region, and saw the walls, known as Famine walls, that served no purpose except for the British to exert authority over the Irish.

Stopped at the Cliffs of Moher for a while. It was beautiful - especially looking out onto the ocean and the horizon

From the cliffs made our way to Annascoul. This is a one horse town, minus the horse. It has a population of 330 - give or take a few tourists and has nine pubs! Apparently not all the pubs are open all year round. The Paddy's Palace is this green monostrosity as you enter the town (well, monstrosity compared to the rest of the town) and it (and it's pub) is across the the Sacred Heart Church. People in the town weren't very happy when it opened...but it did result in more tourists acutally stopping in the town - its a five minute walk down the road before you hit the end of the town...

Annascoul was our rural local stop in South Ireland and Cong was the it in the north...Cong is famous for the movie the Quiet man (uh, before my time...) and Annascoul, don't if it has a claim to fame.

Leaving Annascoul we drove along the Dingle Peninsula - this was by far my favourite day of the tour. Especially because we had clear skies while driving along the North Atlantic coastline.

We had lunch in the town of Dingle - it has a resident bottle-nosed dolphin, called Funghi - unfortunately we didn't have the pleasure of meeting him. Having had enough of fast food and fried food and what not went looking for a decent place to eat - Out of the Blue seafood restaurant - with a sign on it's menu board saying NO CHIPS - was chosen. Had Sunday lunch with 3 others of the tour. It was really yum - whole Plaice with a delicious side salad and dressing and baby potatoes. Well worth the money spent.

Dingle to Killarney where we spent two nights. Some of us did the horse and carriage ride throught the Killarney National Park - no cars allowed. The national parks here are very different to the ones back home. To be expected I guess, but I've always associated national parks with places where there's dangerous wild animals and you're not allowed to walk in. We saw a few reindeer, and just rode along enjoying the scenery. The park is 55000 ha and has a few lakes as well as Ross castle...destroyed by guess who? This was supposed to be similar to the black taxi tours re getting information about the place etc - our driver didn't say much.

Back at the hostel - where we found out we were in a dorm of 14! Went out for a mediocre dinner, met back at the hostel and went to a pub/club where drinks were 3 for €10...I'm not a big drinker, but I really have not drank as much as I did on this tour - and it's still a miniscule amount compared to everyone else! I opted out after my third -did a round each with two others...people had like 9/12 drinks each...and it was any drink so be it beer or spirits. Drunken dancing to the guy playing his guitar and a few other shenanigans I only found out about the next day... I was like, I really am in my own world aren't I? Got woken up a couple times that night by the battle of the snores. Ohmygosh...people can snore. At one stage 3 guys were taking turns snoring...by this time it was nearly time to get up anyway, so I gave up on the extra 20min sleep. What I managed to sleep through though was one guy falling out of bed - off the top bunk. And from those who woke up - sat on the floor and laughed. Same guy had fallen asleep on the pot - one girl heard him snoring from the en suite bathroom. This is the same dude who got the stitches...funny I tell you. He argued saying he didn't fall out of bed...but enough people witnessed it!

Did the Ring of Kerry - more coastline driving, but this time the weather was back to being grey. When we could see out the window...and the little we could see in the distance when we stopped for photos was pretty. Lunch in yet another small town with a name I don't remember, stop at a view of the lakes and the Torc waterfall - part of the Killarney National Park and then we headed back to Killarney. The waterfall was a small reminder of Sabie and the Lowveld :)

Stayed in that night - had tesco's roast chicken and salads for dinner. not very exciting! but at least cheap.

Surfer, Lahinch Beach

Killarney to Cork. Missing out some stop on the way and going through more small towns including Blarney. Don't know whether guide forgot or decided not to do the stop since whether was again miserable. Stopped at the roofless Blarney castle....destroyed by guess who? Kissed, uhm make that, bumped my head on the Blarney stone and then just walked part of the grounds - not condusive to a proper wander with the wet weather. Had lunch in Blareny and then made our way to Cork.

In Cork, wandered around the city for a bit, had a drizzle all the time but really couldn't stay indoors. Ready-made-meal for dinner and had a chilled evening. A few people opted to go out but most of us stayed in.

Last day of the tour had us heading back to Dublin. More small towns, more ruins, more castles and we get to Dublin and head to the Guinness storehouse. Go through the factory - paying a little attention to how Guinness is made - my brain really had an overload of information over the 10days... get to the top floor with the Gravity bar - where you have a 360 view of Dublin. It's a city.

We could pour our own pints - so stood in the line - and got asked for ID! I mean seriously! I know I look young and all...but for crying out loud, younger than 18? I think not! I go to fetch my driver's licence - only for the girl who asked for it to leave. And the other girl there just took my ticket stub, no worries. Poured the perfect pint - got the certificate saying so.... and then tasted it. I decided to save my tasting Guinness until we got to the Guinness factory. Just as well...Guinness may be good for you and give you strength but it doesn't agree with my tastebuds! Took a sip...was like yeugh...and dug around for the kitkat I had in my bag to get rid of the taste. Left my drink on the table. Quite a few people of our tour gave their pint's to someone else who'd actually drink it...but we were running out of time so nobody took mine. Oh well...a pint wasted.

Back to where we started, dropped off and we head to this hostel on the suggestion of one girl - who said it was cheaper compared to Paddy's Palace, was clean and provided breakfast. Yeah. Right. Cheap- definitely. Clean, debateable. You get for what you for with €9 - nooit weer nie. One - you had to hire blankets. And they'd run out! I have issues with blankets anyway, much prefer duvets. Was in a 20 bed dorm, it was only for one night and the dorm was filled but still... I don't know how much I slept that night. Add that our room didn't lock so the key cards was pretty pointless - didn't risk leaving behind my laptop (in a padlocked backpack) so it came along when we went out for what was supposed to be a group dinner. People couldn't agree so we split up but bumped into the groups in pubs later that evening. Dinner in the Temple Bar, went to Buskers...and Ireland was playing against Cyprus so the match was on...and everyone getting all patriotic for Ireland - with two Aussies cheering the loudest when the one goal of the match was scored. After dinner at Buskers to a long trek to Whelan's pub...really liked this pub (it's where the pub scene in PS I Love You was shot...ok, no more ps i love you random snippets after this :p ) and then met up with a few of the others at yet another pub in Temple Bar where live music was played before heading back to the dodgy hostel, Brown's ( where not to stay in Dublin, or rather a when you have very little money and have absolutely no other choice!).

Back to Brum the next day...clear skies once again so the flight was good. And the weather held in Brum too. Was literally there for a laundry and repack stop before leaving for Wales...but that's another blog

Liffy River at Dusk, Dublin

8 countries, 16 days part IV

2008-10-04T23:41:00.008+01:00

V: The Netherlands & a drive through Belgium

So we finally leave Germany, and head for our last stop on the tour - Amsterdam.

Seeing as we're behind schedule - once again, brief lunch stop somewhere along the way before continuing on our journey and picking up folks who'd booked an Amsterdam weekend.

Now, those of us who'd been on the 16 day tour - especially those who'd had two seats to themselves, including yours truly, weren't all to happy with this as it meant having to share seats. And share seats for the last part of the trip. You know how the return trip is always far more tedious than any other.

Get to Amsterdam - pick up the 8 people - and guess what, they moan about waiting....and moan about having to fly to Amsterdam from London city airport and making three tube changes to get there. Like, that is our issue why? We've been on a faulty bus for the past 14 days - behind schedule for most it (had a good time anyway). You don't see us complain do you? We could, but what's the point?

First stop was Zaanse Schaans - windmills and clog making. It wasn't a very long stop - about 40 minutes - seeing as we were behind schedule and all. It takes about 3 hours to make clogs by hand, 5 minutes by machine. Took a wander around the shop, fitting on clogs and then outside taking random photos in the huge clogs outside before climbing back onto the bus and heading to the seaside town of Vollendam. But, first stopping at a cheese factory to find out how cheese is made, and of course a taste session. The girl explained cheese making from start to finish in like 10 minutes. If you blinked you would've misssed all of it.

Reached Vollendam late afternoon - quiet little village. Pretty in the late afternoon light. Just took the usual wander around taking photos. Before reaching Vollendam we were told about our plans for the evening in Amsterdam - the Red Light District - and a sex show if you were interested.

Vollendam

A list was made with all interested adding their names - in total about 28 people - half the group decided to go.

After Vollendam head back to Amsterdam to the youth hostel we were staying in. More drama with the bus though before we get there. Mr bus driver headed the wrong way on a one way and of course there were cops around! It was the funniest thing - the entire bus started buckling up. The newbies were a bit confused since they'd missed the seat belt talk at the start of the trip - how if stopped in Europe - passengers get fined if they're not buckled up on coaches. New law. Nobody said a word - or else it was stage whispered - all you heard was the click click click of seat belts being fastened and waiting for the whole thing to get sorted.

Police escourt number two for the day and we finally made our way to the youth hostel at about 7pm. Dinner first, seeing it was only open until 8pm and we were to leave for the red light district walking tour at 9 - however, for whatever reason - running late. Again!

Now, Amsterdam is an interesting city. Especially traffic wise. We survived the crazy Parisian and Italian drivers - but it seemed as though we might just be harmed by cyclists in Amsterdam.

There are cars, bicycles, trams and people everywhere. There are of course bicycle lanes, but being a foreigner you invariably forget this as it is on the pavement. Add trams, and everything being on the wrong side of the road - it's a tricky business trying not to get run over.

Get the tram to the war memorial in the city centre and from there begin the (very) brief tour of the red light district. The brevity of the tour was because the sex show started at 10pm...

Found out a bit about the coffee shops and the girls in the window and then headed to the sex show.

It really was a bit weird wandering the streets of the red light district. It being a Friday night, the area was jam-packed with people. Men and women, and of course, a whole lot of tourists.

Weird - because it felt like wandering around some bizarre zoo - only, it was women on display. Thing with the Red light District - it's all strictly controlled, and of the safest places in Amsterdam as it's quite heavily patrolled by policemen. In addition, the girls all pay tax and belong to a union.

If the curtains are open the girls are advertising themselves, scantily clad, or in UV bikinis. Most of the females on our tour group found it odd. Unable to really look. I had a look around at all the people - men in particular - walking by - the look of delight on their faces was quite funny. Of course, there were groups of men out on stag nights, and boys celebrating 18th and 21st birthdays - as evidenced by printed t-shirts and what-not.

If the curtains are closed, well....

Viewed a few interactions of girls and potential clients. We were told that the girls turn down clients quite often. Also, they have friends standing around outside. There are signs all over indicating photos should not be taken - and be warned if you do. It's all at your own peril. These friends will take your camera and chuck it into the canal, and the cops won't do a thing since you it was your own stupidity. And it wasn't theft.

Made our way to the place where the sex show was to be. It was a 'when in Amsterdam' moment. One not to be repeated. I saw waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay more than I ever wanted to. What's seen cannot be unseen. Ever. Couple of our group members walked out and we found out later - made their way to a coffee shop. The people who didn't attend the sex show had gone out for a drink.

There were some funny moments though - when they asked for volunteers from the audience. And no, I wasn't involved. Watching it all was more than enough.

One of the girls on our tour pointed out though that there comes a point when it's like whatever. There's so much sex related things around you get over pretty quickly after the initial 'shock'.

Had a bit of walk through more of the Red light district after the show before heading back to the hostel.

Day 15 and the second last day of the tour was our free day in Amsterdam. Uhmmed and aaahed the previous night about what to do - and in the end didn't even do it. Had planned a bicycle tour, or hiring bikes ourselves, but the next morning after breakfast found a few people hanging the lobby going to do a free walking tour - so joined them.

And it was a good thing. The tour guide - Kevin - was absolutely fantastic. American, from Boston, been in Amsterdam for two years and he's completely embraced the city and found out tons and tons about it's history.

Found out so much - and of course, there's still so much more he could've told us. It was a 3hr walking tour, with a stop for lunch.

He told us a bit about the red light district - not in great detail though, since he did the night time red light district tour, and about coffee shops. Kevin pointed out that Amsterdam is not your typical Dutch city, and is definitely the exception. The Netherlands has a Protestant government and coffee shops and prostitution - although legal - is very strictly controlled.

The Dutch figured it this way - since it was there anyway, and brought in money, might as well legalise it. Because in Amsterdam, it's all about the bottom line. Technically marijuana isn't legal - it's decriminalised. The only place where you're legally allowed to smoke it is in coffee shops. And coffee shops are not allowed to serve alcohol. If you're found smoking it on the streets you can be fined on the spot.

Kevin told us about how Amsterdam got started, it's political history and so much more. From why you have houses leaning forward and the weak foundations (since Amsterdam is built around canals) to World War II and the Nazi invation.

I couldn't even begin to try and impart the knowledge I gained about that city. It's just way too much. We found out about 'pistflectors' - basically devices put up against historic buildings to prevent people from peeing on them. These pistflectors splash urine back on the offender - who's in all liklihood drunk - and the next day will be left wandering why his pants and shoes reek!

The last stop of the tour was outside the Weste Kerk - it is this church's bells Anne Frank heard while in hiding. The annexe they stayed in was right around the corner. The group sat down as Kevin told us one last story about Amsterdam.

He'd described the attitude of Amsterdammers as one of plausible deniability. If you ignore it, and don't see it then it doesn't really exist. This is what happened when the Nazi's first invaded Amsterdam. They noted they'd come but didn't really do much about it and so went about their day to day business. This was before the Nazis started rounding up the Jews and sending them off to concentration camps. It was easy for the Nazis to round up the Jews since they all lived in the Jewish quarter and they all had to do was cordone off the area.

During this time there were boxing clubs around - both Jewish and non-Jewish. These boxers helped keep the peace between the boys who were part Nationalist Party and the civilians. One day a group of Nazi teens attacked a group of Jewish kids a playground. This playground happened to be across from a Jewish boxing club. The boxers weren't about to tolerate little kids being beaten up by big boys so they stopped them. The next day - senior members of the party entered a Jewish ice-cream parlour and wreaked havoc - attacking young kids and their parents.

Amsterdammers stood up and noticed. They came together - beseeched the bus drivers and tram drivers not to go to work that Monday, a day in Feb 1941 if I remember correctly. No public transport meant no-one could get to work. The people of Amsterdam came together in protest against the Nazi treament of the Jewish people. Yes, they'd tolerated their prescence but they'd gone too far with the attacks on kids. The Nazis had of course made it out that the Jewish boxers and attacked the teenagers and made no mention of the Jewish kids these teens had beaten up.

This strike started small - but by the end of that day about 200 000 Amsterdammers had come together in protest. They stood up against the Nazi treatment of the Jewish people. Yes, they may have been Jewish. But they were Amsterdammers too. This strike was short lived as the Nazis had called for back up - fighter planes and all sorts.

Retelling this story doesn't have the impact it did when I first heard it. Kevin told us that for him that was what Amsterdam was all about. I found this story quite touching, and it just added to everything else I'd grown to like about this city.

Amsterdam is far more than just the red light district and coffee shops. And it is definitely one place (amongst many) I have to return to and explore and get know far better than what less than 48 hours allows.

Amsterdam certainly is a place for the bleeding hearted liberalist.

After a most excellent walking tour, we made our way to the Van Gogh Museum and then Anne Frank House.

The annexe Anne and her family lived in was tiny. The room she shared with the dentist, the narrow, steep stairs, the small window in the attic where she caught a glimpse of sky.... wow.

The pictures of film stars she'd put up are still on those walls. As are the pencil markings indicating the growth of a child. I'd reread the her diary on the bus and finished a couple days before getting to Amsterdam - and seeing it all after reading about it again just added to emphasis to it all.

There was so much more I wanted to do in Amsterdam, but didn't get around to - being pushed for time and all, but what I saw has ensured that I will return.

Last evening before heading home, and a few of us decided to head out. First a bar and then a coffee shop.

Another 'when in Amsterdam' moment. Done. Not for me. Thanks but no thanks.

I have never felt so shite as I did after that and really did not relish the experience. One girl - who came along but didn't take anything - commented that it was the quietest walk ever. The next morning still felt absolutely terrible - breakfast, bus, and then sleep. Belgium went by without being seen - even though we were only on the motorway anyway. All that was seen of Belgium was a truck stop where we got lunch.

Back to Calais, board the ferry, Dover and then London.

Felt a little off for a few days after the end of the tour - travel withdrawal symptoms I think. I loved being around fellow travellers, and truly loved seeing all these new places. The travel bug has bitten good and proper and it is something I just have to continue doing.