It's Christmas!

Stick with this: 

When I was a child I had a pink rabbit. His name was Albert. He accompanied me everywhere. He'd been made by a neighbour and was one of a kind. Then, when I was about six, he went missing. You may think that this tragic tale inspired the well loved children book 'Dogger' but in fact kids losing toys happens all the bloody time. Anyway. I can clearly remember going from shop to shop asking if anyone had seen Albert, the house was turned upside down, parks were combed, rivers were dredged. Nothing. Albert was gone. We moved house when I was seventeen, there was still hope that he might turn up, he didn't. 

This Christmas my sister in law handed me a parcel with the words 'this is a bit strange'. I opened it and it was Albert. Well Albert mark 2. My brother and my mum had given my sister in law a detailed run down of what Albert had looked like and she had recreated him. She had even cut her dressing gown cord up to make his tail. 

I cried. Then my sister in law opened her present from my brother (her husband), it was a lovely bracelet, she cried. Then my Dad opened his present from my Mum. A photo album of the grandchildren. He cried. Then my eldest brother opened his present from our Mum and Dad. It was a kitchen bin. We all stopped crying. 

I also got this brilliant gift from my eldest brother and his family. I now have the dilemma of liking it too much to use it. So at the moment it is an ornament, I'll need to put something in it so someone doesn't pick it up and put it through the dishwasher. 

Smugness

I landed at 6am on a Thursday morning. The flight was fine, well I believe it was, I was heavily, heavily drugged. I have vague recollections of eating a wrap but that could well have been an incredibly boring hallucination. I know that I changed planes in Dubai but I really don't remember it, I don't think anyone is going to be knocking down my door to do a travel documentary. 
I was reasonably alert when I got off the plan and was capable of having a conversation. I also managed to power on until 11pm that night and go to bed at a reasonable time. I was awake between 3 and 6 and then awake again at 7. Somewhere in my mind this read to me as 'beating jet lag'. I repeated this pattern for the next 5 days and was pretty smug about it. I came to the logical conclusion that I was some kind of super human who was at the next level of evolution and therefore the usual rules of physics and time change didn't apply to me. This all came to an end on Tuesday morning. 
Looking back I can see that five hours sleep a night and jam packed days are not the way to recover but it still came as a surprise when I turned over in bed and had to put my hand out to steady myself as the bed was rolling around and bucking. There followed a day where I was unable to lift my head without the room spinning and needing to throw up. I was unable to walk without stumbling in to a wall. The only option was to cancel all plans and lay on the carpet. I guessed that I had done something to my inner ear and screwed my balance up. I actually had achieved 'accumulative jet lag'. Basically where you save it all up and have it on one day. My best mate saved me by bringing round travel sickness pills which meant I could stand up without covering myself in vomit. She also bought me soup. Which was followed by a text which said it had 'the taste of soup and the consistency of hummus', which didn't help the vomit situation. 
Travel sickness pills are AMAZING. I was still quite 'lurchy' and occasionally walked sideways in to a wall but I could stand upright without decorating a room with sick. 
And if you think about it (really, really think about it) I am still kind of a super human. What would have been a week or so of jet lag for crossing eleven time zones, I got out of the way in twenty four hours. Not quite super human but super efficient. 
  According to google images, this is 'jet lag'. Put a ginger wig on this man and imagine it's me. 

Hot Christmas

From the first of December I was in 'get christmassy' mode. This happens every year. Sometimes it works sometimes it doesn't, but it is a hell of a lot harder in 30 something degree heat. But I persevered. I had Christmas flip flops, I had a Christmas vest top. I laughed at my other English friend who insisted on wearing her Christmas jumper. As is traditional I ate my advent calendar in a couple of days. 
An art deco cinema in Sydney which I love (the Hayden Orpheum) had a Christmas double bill of films. We watched National Lampoons Christmas Vacation and Elf. Candy canes were handed out and then we sweated out guts out whilst waiting for the bus home. 
The church that I went to in Sydney held an amazing event called 'Carols under the bridge'. 5000 people turned out to sing carols under the Harbour Bridge. It was beautiful. I helped out, assisting with a photo booth (I apologise to all who got my handiwork) and then we sat and drank wine and ate cheese and biscuits and sang carols. It was gorgeous but there was still a small part of my brain that wondered why we were doing this in July. 
I know that it's what you know and if you were bought up with a hot Christmas then that would feel Christmassy but seriously Australia, change Santa's outfit. Someone is going to die if you keep pouring them in to a big red furry suit. 

 

 This lego tree on the left is the most Australian decoration I saw. I loved the koala at the top. The tree on the right is the Christmas tree in Martin Place. A few days after this was taken this was where the siege in the Lindt cafe took place. After the sad ending to the siege this area was filled with flowers by well wishers. 

Homeward Bound

I am back in the UK. I've been back about 10 days and it's been a bit of a whirlwind. I've toured the country and am now gearing up for 2015. 
I had a month in Sydney at the end of the trip and it was (much like the rest of the trip) great. I excelled myself by driving ONCE and getting a $200 parking fine. I am disputing it on the grounds of ignorance but I don't hold out much hope. Apparently in Sydney everyone has to park facing the same direction. I didn't know this and ruined the look of the street with my slapdash european style parking. When I got the ticket I immediately put a beret on the car and rammed a cigarette up it's exhaust pipe. 
As I was preparing to leave Sydney everyone asked me if I was ready to go home. I was actually in the really nice position of being fine either way. If I'd been told that I had to stay another six months I would have loved it and carried on writing, hanging out with friends and having a very nice life, if I had to go home (which indeed I have had to do) I would love it and go back to my friends, family and see what the future holds (I still have no real idea what is going to happen). 
I will miss Australia and my friends but, without wishing to sound about 100 years old, technology has made things so much easier. Facebook, whatsapp, instagram - it's so much easier to dip in and out of people's lives without having to sit down and write a huge email or letter. Except to one friend who has decided she'd like to be pen pals. So there will still be proper letters going back and forth. 
But now I am back in the UK. I've rediscovered my house, been to a lovely wedding, had Christmas and now... bring on 2015 

I've always relied upon the kindness of strangers

Arriving in Sydney over three months ago I knew one person. Not being particularly fussed if I didn't speak to anyone for four months I knew that I would be OK but would obviously prefer if I met some people in order to avoid me turning in to one of those people who laughs to themselves in the bus queue. Reader I think you can see where this is going...

People are great. 

This doesn't include the weird woman who sat on the end of my bed and scared the shit out of me but it does include (drumroll...) 

• The girl who I used to work with who drove for an hour and a half to pick me up from Melbourne then put me up for the weekend and introduced me to her lovely friends. She also introduced me to tablets which you eat and they turn everything you eat in to sweet tasting things. Sweet tasting vegemite is very odd indeed. We also went for drive through coffee which pretty much blew my mind 
• Two of my UK friend's sisters who again put me up and treated me like a Queen. 
• An old school friend who met me for dinner despite not having seen me in years. Amazing company, lovely food and friendship rekindled. 
• Friend of the old school friend who got in touch and met me for a drink. Lovely night and got to see huge flames go off outside the casino. 
• Old work colleague who met me for a drink and we had a very pleasant afternoon in St Kilda. 
• All the randoms I met in hostels and idled away days with. 
• The very strange woman I met in a hostel who decided to give me a cat statue. I have to confess I left it behind in the hostel. It was a nice but not entirely practical gift. I did come of slightly better than the Dutch girl who was given a full set of table mats and coasters. 
• My travelling tour mates from Melbourne to Adelaide. Helped me overcome my prejudice of organised tours. Not an unpleasant idiot among them. 
• My new Sydney friend who introduced me to the greatest ice cream on the planet. 
• My flatmates who made my re-introduction to communal living flipping awesome. 
• All the new friends I have made who have put themselves out for me, made me feel so welcome. 
• The old friends who have opened their home to me and made it feel like barely 10 minutes have passed since we last saw each other let alone 10 years. 

I suppose the culmination of this was an invite to a Thanksgiving dinner on Saturday. I have never been to a thanksgiving before but I enjoy eating. The friends that hosted it are wonderful (and American) and put on a hell of a feast. My only knowledge of Thanksgiving is from TV and film but I am sort of tempted to start including it in my autumn calendar. I'll ignore all the guff about pilgrims (I still don't think I've really grasped what all that's about). But I am pleased to say that we did do the thing where you go round the table and say what you're grateful for. I like that. And I like eating. 

I was thankful for the fact that four months ago I arrived knowing next to no one and there I was sat at a Thanksgiving dinner with people I know are going to be friends for life. It's not where I ever expected to be, but I was very thankful. 

Great Ocean Road and the Grampians

I am not by nature one of life's 'joiner inners'. As a child I lived in fear of being sent to summer play- schemes. Even now I feel a shiver of dread when someone says 'get in to groups'. 
I needed to get from Melbourne to Adelaide. On the way to Adelaide is the Great Ocean Road which I wanted to see. I could have rented a car and driven along it but I knew that I wouldn't really see much so I bit the bullet and booked a 'tour'. I assumed that I would either be with a load of eighteen year olds who would spend the whole thing binge drinking and being dicks. Or I would be with a load of pensioners. Although neither appealed I would have preferred the pensioners. 
Well goodness me. If I didn't end up having an absolutely amazing time. The tour guide was brilliant, the group of people were all in their early to late twenties and were all lovely, lovely people. We're now all friends on facebook. The trip was easily the highlight of my travels around the country.
We saw the lighthouse from 'Round the Twist' as the only English person on board I was the only person who knew what 'Round the Twist' was and I was VERY excited. I didn't treat people to me singing the theme tune but it was definitely going round my head all afternoon. We stopped at many places along the way but it ended with sunset at the 12 apostles (there are only 8 rocks, they just liked the name). It was a bit breezy so I popped my beautiful duck coat on. Then Andrea from the bus came towards me wearing the same coat. It would appear that good taste transcends continents. 
I'm not going to bore you with a day by day break down of what we did but I saw some beautiful sights, sights that I wouldn't have seen if I'd hired a car and driven myself. 
There were around nine nationalities on the bus and I was once again incredibly thankful that English is taught in schools all over the world. The only person who had limited English was one French woman (who we accidentally called by the wrong name for a day). Having heard all the Dutch, Norwegian, German, French and Swiss people casually switch between languages and saying that they had learnt all they knew at school I got a bit over confident. I sort of knew my Latin wasn't going to come in particularly hardy (even though it allegedly gives you an underlying knowledge of all modern languages) but I did French for five years. So I struck up a conversation. I think I started with the weather. "Il fait chaud ne est ce pas" I casually said. She clearly hadn't learnt French the same way I had. The correct answer (according to Madame Jones and the Tricolour book) was 'Oui ce est chaud" not the stream of incredibly complicated French that she came back with, which no doubt included the phrase 'and why the hell are you all calling me Renee? That's not my name." 
Inevitably we resorted to an horrific combination of French, English and mime. Which considering we ended up talking about the Normandy beaches was quite something. I claimed I'd been to Normandy. I haven't but didn't quite have the French to explain that we were talking and cross purposes. It also didn't seem right to mention it as she had taken this conversational segue as an opportunity to tell me about her father's experiences in Alsace Lorraine during World War II. All I knew about Alsace Lorraine was that it was a very popular location in my school text book and had a quiche named after it. Luckily our conversation could be cut short with a quick "ooh regard! Kangaroos" from me. Not a traditional conversation ender but in this case it was accurate. There were wild kangaroos bouncing around us. 
Bloody hell those things can jump high. No point building fences, they can go right over them. I tried (unsuccessfully) to try and capture one mid flight, then gave up and just watched them. 
It was 44 degrees the last two days we were there. We were meant to spend one afternoon marching up a mountain to a look out. This was postponed. Instead we got up at 6 the next morning to do it. It's not the way I usually think of starting the day but it was breathtaking. By the time we were coming down the route was full of school children dangling off ropes and having abseiling lessons. I asked their teacher if they were on a school trip. No, this was their PE lesson. You can't help but feel cheated when your PE lessons consisted of you dancing around in giant navy PE knickers to the hits of Bananarama (which was dated even then). 

I am now a convert. I would recommend everyone travel the world this way. Great people, great sights. My new life motto is now 'calm the fuck down and say yes to everything'. I think it'll catch on.

Melbourne

From Canberra I flew to Melbourne. I flew drug free and so the plane was treated to me weeping and willing the plane to stay in the air. I was successful and we didn't die although it was turbulent. 
I was staying on Flinders Street at the YHA there. The person who had been in the room before me was so extraordinarily messy that I assumed that they were still staying there so I left a light on for them for a couple of nights until I realised they weren't coming back. I then took the toothpaste they left behind. I went for dinner with a couple of guys I met and we all filled each other in on our travels. One of the recommendations was the youth hostel from hell I had previously fled. I said 'I had a bit of a bad experience with one of the long term guests'. I said her name and the guy started laughing. Turns out she had tried it on with him and the only way he was able to escape her attentions was to pretend to be German and not speak English. I once again cursed my GCSE French and Latin combo. He then amused himself by texting all his friends to tell them he had met someone who knew the strange lady and then spent a good few hours trying to convince me that the strange lady was in Melbourne for the Melbourne Cup. 
I like Melbourne but although I've been there a few times I don't feel like I really know Melbourne. This is possibly because it's set on a grid and I can't work grid systems. I will always turn the wrong way and end up in a dodgy neighbourhood or on some train tracks or the local dump. In Melbourne I am constantly looking for the centre when in fact there is no centre and it is a warren on side streets and alleyways. 
I do however love St Kilda. Not just because it's where 'The Secret Life of Us' was filmed but because it's beautiful, fun and full of excellent pubs. 

 The picture to the left is my attempt at recreating 'The Secret Life of Us' opening titles. I meant to pop to St Kilda for an afternoon, mooch around and come back. I ended up enjoying it so much that I walked along the front to Brighton and beyond. The views were beautiful and it was lovely to turn back and see the city behind you. Brighton is famed for it's multi-coloured beach huts. 
 I walked and walked. It wasn't a warm day and was quite overcast. Whenever I say this to people now they nod sagely and say 'Oh yes, you have to be careful when it's overcast. I was not careful. I had sun cream on but it had been applied in a slightly slapdash manner. Luckily I had also worn make-up (something which didn't happen a lot on this holiday). On arrival back in the city people looked at me strangely. I assumed I was glowing with health following my walk. In fact I was glowing with the power of a thousand suns. I had branded myself. 
 My chest has only recently got back to a normal colour. My face had luckily escaped the worst, with one exception. Dotted along the walk to Brighton are water fountains. I had drunk from a few of them and wiped my mouth on the back of my hand. This meant that I had wiped the make up from my top lip and I now had an electric red moustache. Which makes a change from my usual ginger tash.