Too Old For This Stuff

There once was a time when...

I could act erratically and be considered a joker.
I could write an essay with less than three hours sleep.
I could mix my drinks and never suffer the consequences.

Over the years since leaving school, I have noticed that I have a mounting list of things that I can't seem to do now. It could be down to my body acting out in protest, an influence by the people I'm surrounded by or I might be *gasp* growing up. 

Above, are three examples that spring to mind and all revert back to my youth. I say youth, I'm not exactly ancient right now but I do feel the pressure to act all grown up and it's petrifying.

Back at school, I could do something daft and make a silly decision with no major repercussions. It's like my age instantly warranted forgiveness. Out in the real world however, life is never that simple. I feel no gratification knowing that I don't fall under the category of young and carefree but instead am a social outcast. I have to be serious and think about a career, setting up a pension and finding someone to grow old with. When did that happen!? I'm still stuck in the  transient stage of self-discovery that most people complete whilst still in education. I wish it was that easy, realising what I want to do.

Travelling has opened up another branch in my life. I've met so many people heading down the same path as me which is reassuring. To some I'm an outcast but to others, I'm just like everyone else.

University did lead to a slight air of enlightenment as I pushed my body to its limits. Gone are the days when I could stay up late and wake up ridiculously early in my voracious attempt at tackling an essay. I didn't need coffee or energy drinks. I must have been radioactive or something as nowadays I can barely string a sentence together after a sound sleep, never mind when I'm deprived of such a luxury!

My lack of endurance after a restless night can only be matched by my absolute lack of tolerance for alcohol. I used to be able to drink an array of random concoctions put in front of me by my merry friends and still manage to function the next day. Presently, I only have to sniff a glass of wine and I'm bed-bound.

This is exactly what happened post-party-bus in Vegas. I didn't think I drank that much but the morning after, I felt like I'd fallen down ten flights of stairs.

Ken called a couple of times to rouse me from my coma but I was not prepared to move. 

Somehow, I managed to crawl out of bed and roll over to the shower. Each bead of hot water pelted my feeble body. The steam calmed me and I rested my body in a position where only my face was being hit. I was hoping the water would massage my senses and I'd feel human again. It felt good but I still wasn't cured.

Surrounding myself with teenagers didn't make me feel any better. Everyone was smiling and hangover-free. I'm going with the excuse that I don't drink that much anymore so when I do, my body can't handle it. My body is a temple and all that.

As much as I wanted to go on the New York New York (casino) roller coaster, I'd not eaten and I still felt groggy. I didn't want to risk feeling worse. Whilst a few of the others went up to the top floor, I went off to find some food.

Afterwards, there was still some daylight left so we went to The Venetian, a casino and hotel that is supposed to emanate the beautiful Italian city. Vegas has the Eiffel Tower, the Statue of Liberty so why not Venice?

Although it has been a long while since I'd been to Venice, I don't recall it being that creepy. The decor reminded me of Venus Fort, the shopping mall in Odaiba, Japan. Odaiba boasts elaborate architecture, marble water fountains and artificial sunsets every 30 minutes. Not willing to be outdone, Vegas went one step further with incorporating a river complete with motorised gondolas so tourists can experience the "true" Venice. 

Just one Cornetto...wait, I mean...O sole mio!!**

The over-the-top lavish replica of St. Mark's Square I can just about get my head around. The actors that warbled random songs whilst sporting manic grins were just too much. I stepped to the back of the crowd before they had chance to jig in my direction. I think this eerie display was supposed to represent Mardis Gras...well I hope! 

After soaking up as much fake-Venice as we could handle, we headed back to the hotel via the monorail. I laughed as the announcer warned us against everything an idiot would do to harm themselves. Due to the sue-nation that makes up America these days, it is a safety net that is sadly needed to protect firms from accident claims.

Back at the hotel I still couldn't muster up any enthusiasm to eat so I went back to bed. Enveloped in my duvet, I took comfort in watching crap TV and snacking on whatever I had left from the day's outing.

Later that evening Ken came over to see what I was doing. Some of the others were going out with the guys from the night before. I didn't feel like leaving my cocoon and knew that I'd only be getting in the way. Oh, and I wasn't invited, ha! 

What was only meant to be a brief pit-stop, turned into a lengthy chat. Ken and I talked about random rubbish which led to a rather deep, meaningful and almost philosophical discussion. 

Although I wasn't down in any sense or form, I did feel uplifted by the end. It made me realise how much I have grown and cemented my beliefs that I should no longer resent events from my past but be thankful as they have brought me to this moment in my life. I used to carry so much anger and stress about everything and nothing. I avoided positive thinking and proclaimed to be a realist. I'm still sarcastic and dry-humoured, that will never change, but I've learned to let a lot of things go and just live. You can never be too old to do that.

_________________________________________________________________

**Although both songs are linked to Venice and sung by gondoliers to tourists, O 
Sole Mio is a Neapolitan song. A different ice cream and a different city!

A Touch Of Luxury

Unlike other places I’ve visited in New Zealand, I left Franz Josef satisfied. I did what I went there to do and had a great time. I was also looking forward to hopping off the bus and having a break in Wanaka.

Before we reached our final destination, we stopped off at Lake Matheson for a walk. It was a three hour trail but Hannah, Kerry and I were certain that it could be done in two. We briskly walked through the winding route taking photos along the way.

At one point we noticed a camera lens cover abandoned on a wooden bench. We felt bad for whoever had left it as it’s not something that’s easily replaced whilst travelling. It was at our next viewpoint where we met a guy (later to be nicknamed Hannah’s Future Husband) who it belonged to. After hovering for a little too long, we moved on. HFH had split apart from his group and had positioned his tripod on higher grounds. With a crushed flapjack in one hand, HFH took photos of the stunning view. Hannah became flustered with her camera but not to worry as her future husband helped her capture a great image. HFH was a hot topic as we power walked the rest of the way. Apparently a guy who squishes a flapjack in his hand without a care in the world whilst taking photographs is a great turn on for some.

Conversations with the girls on the bus tended to transcend in to Men are from Mars and Women are from Venus…literally as one of the girls is reading that book (I won’t name names, it’s not me!). I detest books that tell women how they should act around men. Surely both parties should learn how to compromise and work together without manipulation and game playing. I can never be arsed with all that rubbish as it’s too much hard work!

We were the first ones back and decided to treat ourselves to some lovely grub at the café. I had an epic sausage, egg and crispy bacon sandwich with tomato relish. It was that good that I groaned with almost every mouthful. I didn’t have room for my raspberry and white chocolate muffin so kept it for the bus journey.

I was the only one hopping off at Wanaka which astonished some. I wasn’t sure if it was the fear of missing out, but a lot of people kept asking me why I wasn’t leaving the next day like everyone else. I’d heard from a friend back home that Wanaka is beautiful, I was hoping to meet a friend I made in Bangkok and I couldn’t wait to part ways with the bus. Obviously I didn’t say the last part. I did get on with a few people on the bus but those lovely people were lost within the awful mass of annoyingness that was taking over. I’d not had a break from Stray since Rotorua and I felt like I was overdue.

The whole bus stayed at Base hostel that night. I’d pre-booked my room online for a knock-down price. I was very happy with myself for doing this. Even though Stray get a certain amount of rooms blocked off for passengers only, it didn’t faze me that I would be staying elsewhere.

Kerry, who recommended I book online, had done the same and we asked if it was possible to stay in the same room. Unfortunately the rooms are randomly allocated so that was not possible. My disappointment soon transformed into dizzying excitement as I was told I’d be staying in the Sanctuary. I had no idea what that meant but it sounded good.

The receptionist handed me a white fluffy towel. It was a nice touch. I asked if anyone else was booked in the room and was told I’d have it to myself for three nights. Happy days!

I entered my room and my jaw dropped. My eyes lit up at the sight of a ridiculously large room, a table with chairs, a kettle, tea and coffee. Attached to the wall was a flat screen TV. I actually jumped up and down on the spot and squealed. You may laugh but try travelling for over nine months and see how you react to fresh linen, open space and a room to yourself!

Although I had my white fluffy towel, I could not for the life of me find where the showers and toilets were on my floor. I was too embarrassed to ask the staff so grabbed Kerry who is a seasoned sleeper at Base. Kerry followed me to my room and shared my excitement. Kerry had stayed in a Sanctuary room on the north island so knew exactly how I felt. Within seconds, Kerry found the showers and toilets…in my room! I bypassed the mirror which happened to be fixed onto a door. Behind this door were two spotless showers and two floral-smelling toilet cubicles. Ohhhhh yeeeeeah.

Now if THAT wasn’t enough, Kerry told me that there should be some hair straighteners around somewhere. It turns out you can put a bond down for a pair at reception. I’d not straightened my hair in a long time as my GHDs broke in Australia.

I felt no shame in bragging about my room and invited some of the girls over. Hannah and Sam came over and ate their dinner whilst I pranced around to random music off of my laptop. I offered my facilities to Kerry as I owe my little luxury pad to her.

As it was my last night with this bus…well mainly because I had hair straighteners, I decided to glam up for the night. I knew exactly what I was going to wear.

One wonderful shower later and I was ready to don my short blue dress I bought from Australia and first wore to see Laura Marling. My smile dropped when I saw my legs. Shit, I forgot about my bruise collection. My left knee was a patchwork of blues and greens accompanied by a scab thanks to my fall at Blue Duck lodge. On the back of my leg sat a huge red-veined nastiness from my tanking adventures. Dammit. I knew it was going to be dark in the bar, but no amount of soft lighting could hide those monstrosities.

Kerry suggested I wore leggings with it but it wouldn’t look as good. I wanted to look all girly and human again rather than the frizzy mess I’ve become since leaving Australia. I settled for my maxi dress in the end and hoped that I looked just as nice.

The answer to that question came in a form of a compliment as soon as I left the room. One of the guys from the bus said I looked really nice. It’s been a while since I’ve had a seemingly genuine compliment from a guy. I felt really good.

That feeling grew throughout the night. I managed to get in on a game of pool and potted three balls in a row which caught us up to the opposing team who only had the black to pot. Nobody had seemed to notice what I’d done. I had one more shot which I should have just fluffed. Instead, I potted the black. Everyone certainly noticed that! I felt like an idiot. Jim, my pool partner, hugged me although I'm sure he'd rather of kicked me.

Battle of the buses was my chance to make up for this loss. Kiwi Experience, Magic and Stray in one room. Only one would be hailed champion. I wanted that title.

My competitiveness subsided as the quiz was so long-winded. Most of the questions were about the Queen’s Jubilee. I now know that Buckingham Palace holds 775 rooms, Elizabeth was 25 when she took the throne and she has 5 dogs.

At one point we were in the lead but the Kiwi bus had a smart phone and were cheating their way to victory (boooo hissss!). We faired ok at the karaoke but didn’t stand a chance in the dance off. Kiwi had a guy who could back flip and do the splits as well as a girl who could breakdance. I got up all the same as the first challenge was to copy the dance moves to Eric Prydz Call On Me. Everyone must remember the crotch thrusts right? I tried in vain but my maxi dress kept getting in the way when it came to the kicks and rolling around on the floor.

Never mind. We left Kiwi to their victory and $100 bar tab. A couple of people from our bus sneakily went to the bar to claim a free drink. They didn’t even check! I wasn’t that fussed and sat down beside the pool table. I got chatting to a couple of people from the bus who I’d not spoken to before. Seana from Chicago was especially lovely. We spoke about our travels and plans for the future. I gave her my email address for a possible meet-up when I reach Chicago. Seana even offered me her couch to sleep on. I’ve not couchsurfed in a while but I might have to in America depending on how much money I have left!

I also spoke to another American for a while before spending the rest of the night chatting away to Jim and Chris (both British). This surprised me as they weren’t as chatty when I first met them. It turns out, Jim’s first impression of me wasn’t a good one. After the pool table orgy at Franz Josef, I didn’t really approach the guys as I thought the territory had been marked by the girls. Jim especially, was always with one particular girl from the bus so I left them to it. Jim mistook my avoidance as a dislike towards him and his mate. It also turns out that my pre-judgement of Jim was also off. So I went back to kicking myself again!

Having talked Jim’s ear off earlier in the night, I thought his brain had switched off for the most part. I do have a habit of going off on a tangent regardless of whether a person is actually interested in hearing what I have to say. When we spoke again, it turned out he was listening (a rare trait in a guy). It annoyed me slightly how well I got on with some of the people on the bus that I originally avoided. It wasn’t so much of a regret that I’d change my mind and hop back on the bus though. I’d need a bit more than a few random conversations with people for me to do that!

For once, I was one of the last people out that night. Everyone departed pretty quickly after the battle ended. It was quite sad saying goodbye to some people from the bus. Perhaps I might see some of them in Queenstown but others I may never see again.

It was this thought that shifted my mood slightly. Although travelling has made me the happiest I’ve ever been, I do have my down days and this was one of them. I missed my friends back home and started to think about all the people I’ve had to say goodbye to whilst travelling. I offloaded onto poor Jim who had no idea what to say to me. I think he thought I was going to cry or something! Only an hour or so beforehand I was wittering on about how wonderful travelling is, the changes that I’ve seen in myself and how great it’s been to meet so many people. Talk about Jekyll and Hyde!

I’ll add that to the scrapbook of embarrassment to open up at a later date for self-torture! To be fair, I have done and said far worse in front of guys so this is nothing really.

I will say this though, I am extremely grateful for the people that I have met. For once in my life I’ve felt completely at ease with who I am. I have been myself and not only have I been accepted, but I’ve made some wonderful friends who like me for me. Throughout my life I’ve always tried to please everyone else to my own detriment. It’s meant that I’ve never really known whether I’m being me or if I’m just being someone that I think everyone would like. I always found it hard saying no which sometimes people took advantage of. It’s so refreshing to find people who are on the same wavelength as me.

In regards to guys, it’s a mixed bag. On the one hand, I’m meeting guys that I’ll probably never see again so if I do make an arse of myself I don’t need to worry too much. However, if it turns out that I like a guy then…well it’s just plain rubbish. Most travellers are randy and are only out for whatever they can get. I’m not one to normally generalise but it’s a heavy percentage that are this way. So any guy that I do meet and is friendlier than normal, I often wonder whether they are being nice to me because they like me or whether they just want a quick fumble in a crowded dorm room to satisfy their cravings. Some men can say the right things at the right time and it confuses me. Guys say that they never know what women are thinking and that we talk in riddles. Sometimes guys can be just as cryptic.

I've not really thought about a future with a guy too much whilst I've been travelling as I never saw it as a plausible outcome. I really want to travel more and work where I can. It just makes me wonder whether I’d ever be able to make a true connection that way.

When I’m home and things go wrong with a guy, there is no quick exit like there is with travelling. But then when it does go right, the likelihood is that it isn’t transitory and I may get my happily ever after.

Most of you know by now that I am a hopeless romantic. I watch far too many movies and have read numerous books where women can be completely ridiculous yet still have a guy chasing after them. Now wouldn’t that be a perfect world to live in?

I would like to meet someone one day who likes me for me and isn’t afraid to show that. Nevertheless, I’m not willing to shape my life around something that’s not there so I will follow my heart to wherever in the world it takes me. Having someone there next to me can be the icing on the cake.

Sydney So Far...And A Happy New Year

New Year’s Day is yet another excuse for Australians to party and by gosh don’t they party. There were party cruises overlooking the Harbour Bridge as well as all the New Year’s events hosted by the restaurants along the harbour front. The Harbour Bridge fireworks are just the cherry on a massive cake filled with lashings of sugary party goodness. Everyone was pulling out all the stops to make this one night incredible.

I was invited to a house party in an apartment block overlooking the Harbour Bridge. Perfect. There was just one snag in that glorious plan of mine. I was bloody working. I had the evening shift on New Year’s Eve and then the early morning shift on New Year’s Day. Arse.

It was an inevitability seen as I was the only temp there. My sole purpose is to work shifts nobody else wants! Yes, I could have pulled a sickie but it would have meant I’d have no job to go back to. I’ve not exactly had the best of luck when it comes to finding a job so the thought of going back to having no income again wasn’t a pleasant thought. Plus, I’m not that kind of person. I’ve never pulled a sickie in my life and I didn’t plan on starting then.

I was gutted that I didn’t get to see the main fireworks but all was not lost. My roommate was also working the evening shift which, as we work next door to each other, meant that we could salvage a night out together ourselves. Poor Steff didn’t really have a choice in the matter. He wasn’t working but obviously he wouldn’t do anything without Mel.

*****

I arrived at work with a smile on my face as usual. I never really do anything for New Year’s Day anyway. It was just another day to me. I kept repeating this to myself until the annoyance of not being able to experience any of the awesomeness listed above subsided.

Dee Why Beach was hosting their own little party and had fireworks too. I wasn’t sure whether I’d even get to see them as it all depended on whether the boss would let me stand in one place without doing anything. This is something I was rarely able to do at that point. It’s only recently that the boss has eased the torture. I only get scolded every now and then, but so does everybody else so I don’t exactly lose sleep over it. Nevertheless, it is still the one cardinal rule of waitressing – always look busy. Standing around doing nothing or chatting to other people looks bad. I’m not sure why. That thought has never crossed my mind in a restaurant. Obviously I’m more interested in my food than whether the waiting staff are cleaning menus or rearranging cutlery.

I didn’t have time to contemplate this further as the place was buzzing with customers. We were fully booked and everyone was demanding attention. Another waitress and I managed to keep everyone happy and the fireworks did the rest. People abandoned their food and flocked to the front of the restaurant. I inched forward a little…then a little more…just a little bit more. There just happened to be empty plates on the outside tables that needed clearing. I needn’t have bothered looking for an excuse. As the entire restaurant was watching the fireworks, nobody was bothered about their wine being topped up.

The fireworks were alright, nothing special. I’ve definitely seen better but it provided a nice distraction from work and meant that most customers were happy. I say most as a couple of old witches felt the need to complain at the end. At first I thought it was a general complaint and instantly thought, “Shit, what did I do?” Instead, they went on to say how they weren’t happy with where they were seated. Most people are elated when they are seated in a booth but not this group. They went on about how they are local so they should have priority seating and wanted to be closer to the fireworks. I have no idea why that would make a difference seen as everyone in the restaurant got up and walked outside to see the fireworks and had no problems in doing so. My boss handled it very well. I wanted to put that woman in her place, simply for making a stupid complaint after we all worked so hard. It’s flipping New Year’s, have a heart lady!

We were packed up and ready to leave at 10pm which was a miracle in itself. You always get hangers on but I guess everyone had other parties to go to and left in good time. I grabbed my things and went next door to find my roommates. They were already dressed up and looked lovely. I nipped to the ladies and got changed. My wardrobe was still limited at this point so I wore the same dress that I had on for Christmas Day. I didn’t stand out too much as nobody went overboard on their outfits.

I hung out with my roommates until the restaurant closed. It felt like we were having a lock-in as all the staff went from formal and stiff waiters/waitresses to party-people. So much so, that people on the street naturally assumed we were still open and kept trying to come in. Some were friendlier about their rebuttal than others.

We had champagne and wine on the house. There was even pizza. I got to meet a lot of my roommate’s work colleagues and everyone was really friendly and chatty. Management mingled with staff and everything was very laid back. Time flew by and before we knew it, everyone was counting down to midnight. The big screen TV was switched on to a channel showing live coverage of the Harbour Bridge celebrations. We got to see the fireworks after all.

The clock struck midnight and I became embroiled in an orgy of hugs, kisses and elated cries of “Happy New Year!”. Nobody knew who I was and nobody cared. I even got a hug from one of the restaurant owners. There was a lot of love in the room.

So...it’s New Year’s Day, what do we do now? We wandered the streets for inspiration and one guy suggested going to the beach. Not too original seen as we work across from the thing. Instead of resting on the sand, we sat by the sea-water pool. The guy who was behind the idea stripped naked and went for a swim, like you do! The water must have been ice cold!

By this point I was drunk. I was unbelievably drunk. I’d not had anything to eat since lunchtime and I never get staff meals when I work an evening shift so all that was lining my stomach was a few slices of Italian-style pizza. I got a little too carried away with the free wine and my body wasn’t used to it. I’d not had this much to drink since my leaving parties!

Oh dear. To paint a clearer picture for you, I ask you to click on the following link - HIMYM. Oh no, it’s not a drunken video of me. It’s a joke on how different types of alcohol have different effects on people. The exact same thing could be said for me. If I’m on shots, I get cocky. If I’m on beer, I get giddy. If I’m on cocktails I also get giddy but too many of them and I get loud and I loooooove to dance. Wine…I should never drink wine. I usually drink it before a night out when I know everyone is going to be drunk. The above probably insinuates that I am a heavy drinker. I’m not. I’m a lightweight, therefore I tend to stay away from the stuff for everyone else's safety as well as my own.

So wine basically knocks me out. I'm all of the above amped up to 11...Eeek! this story doesn't get any better I'm afraid! As well as loud and dancey and mouthy...I also get my flirt on. I've never been confident with guys and, although I've found it easy making a heck of a lot of good male friends, I'm useless when it comes to putting the moves on someone. Just saying, "putting the moves on someone" makes me laugh. Cheese. Get a few wines down me and I'm sitting on their lap feeding them ice cream (true story, but not this night), joking that they're too weak to be able to life me up and so on and so forth. Not good.

Do you remember the guy that stripped naked and swam in the sea-water pool? He was the only guy that I really knew at the party so I mainly spoke to him. We indulged in a bit of mindless flirty banter but nothing crude or too naughty. I mean, I barely know the guy! The thing is, I was off my rocker on wine and my head was spinning…

My version of events: I was enjoying a bit of harmless banter with my roommate’s work friend. I didn’t see anything wrong in that. Everyone seemed to be whispering about me and my roommate told me that people think that something’s going on. Ridiculous, I’m just talking to the guy. I don’t know anyone else. Plus, he has a GIRLFRIEND. I’m not THAT kind of girl. I hit boiling point when my roommate told me to stop being so loud and that everyone thinks that me and this guy are hooking up. I walked off. I wanted to go home to bed where it was safe and sleep this night off. I knew I’d had too much to drink and I hated the fact that I was making a complete arse of myself in front of strangers. My roommates came looking for me and we went to get the bus back to the hostel with this guy in tow. Why is he coming with us? I didn’t think much more of it until he followed us back to our room. Why is he still here? I just wanted to sleep so got into bed. The guy joined me but in my wine-haze I lay defeated and thought, I just want to sleep. We ended up kissing and he wanted more. I said back off and rolled over and fell asleep. I got up a couple of hours later for work and he was gone. Maybe it was a dream. I went to work and thought nothing more of it.

The version of events that my roommate told me the next day: I had too much wine to drink but everyone else was rather merry too so it didn’t really matter. My roommate tried to warn me that people think this guy and I are hooking up and I shrugged it off. My roommate tried to warn me again once my voice went from normal to shout mode but I ignored her and stormed off. Right before this happened, the guy said he had nowhere to stay that night and I said that he could crash at the hostel as people do that all the time. I basically announced to everyone that this guy was coming back to the hostel with me. Oh dear, oh dear. He thought he was getting lucky but I just wanted to go to sleep. He tried it on with me but failed. As we all went to sleep, the guy got up and went to the toilet, locking him out in the process. He couldn’t remember which room we were in so started banging on other people’s doors. Someone made the unfortunate choice of letting him in. He then proceeded to piss all over the room and got himself chucked out. Management were not happy and saw on the CCTV that he was with us. They too thought that I brought a random guy back to the hostel to get with. Shit.

Messy, messy night. I just got incredibly drunk and had no idea what was going on. This lead to a guy thinking he got lucky despite having a girlfriend and us nearly getting kicked out of the hostel. A grovelling apology from me and a $300-or-so fee in damages paid by the guy later, and I was ready to forget the whole thing. I can’t even say. “What was I thinking?” because I clearly wasn’t. I knew this guy had a girlfriend and that nothing would ever happen. I was just bantering like I do with most guys. I didn’t say anything outrageous. We were just generally chatting for the most part. Obviously my declaration that he could stay at the hostel set off the chimes in his head that he was about to get some but I probably thought he’d just crash on the balcony. I say probably as I literally don’t even remember saying it!

I did feel terrible for a couple of weeks about what happened but I eventually stopped kicking myself. If I’d done the same thing and was sober, then yes, I’m a boyfriend-stealer. But I was as high as a kite and I certainly don’t have any feelings for this guy. We all make mistakes and I’m sure there are plenty of people who can recall a time where they kissed the wrong person. It happens.

I can promise you this though, that is definitely the last of the guy stories in Australia. Thank heavens for that!

Sydney So Far...Money

Money is a subject that divides many. It’s an unfortunate circumstance that can start wars and ruin friendships. Thankfully neither have happened to me so far (touch wood) but there's still panic in the air. It doesn't help that everything in Australia is around treble the price of what it would be in England. Some of the lucky ones around here get wages which reflect this. I on the other hand don't. Great.

*****

Having settled in one place for a while, I’ve observed the lifestyles of those in Australia with astonishment. On the one side, I’ve seen backpackers try any trick in the book to save money, including stealing. On the other side, I’ve witnessed Sydneysiders’ way of life. Many splash the cash and attempt to lord it above everyone else. I’m not quite sure who they are trying to impress as Sydney seems to be a rich society. It makes it all rather pointless and laughable. 

Thankfully not everyone is like that and I have met a couple of nice Aussies. I’m still a little wary and I feel like I need to do a bit more travelling to have a more rounded perception. It would be silly to judge an entire nation based on the exchanges that unfold at work. As a waitress, I do have direct contact with more idiots than usual. It was the same back in England.

I’m not really sure where I fit in on this spectrum. I do watch what I spend, especially now that I am earning, but it doesn’t stop me from treating myself. I built up the funds for my trip through hard work and sacrifices which has left me with a greater level of appreciation for each and every experience. But just because I have that money safely nestled in my bank account, it doesn’t mean I rub it in everyone’s faces. On the contrary, I’m still the first to say that I need to save money. I seem to be on less pay than those around me which is a situation I'm all too familiar with. Some things never change.

It is annoying when people use my savings against me. Despite the fact that they are cordoned off for New Zealand and America, I’m always told that I’m in a better situation than everyone else. I don’t feel like I have to justify myself to people but having the same argument grates. Sometimes I just go off on a tangent about how I may have this money now but in six months’ time it will be gone. I plan on spending the lot baby! At this point, I'm always tempted to use the Nicolas Cage crazy eyes but then I might get committed. I'd never go quite that far with a joke.

It’s the scariest and the most exciting part of my trip (not the Nic cage eyes...the having no money lark). I’m living my life to the fullest but in six months’ time I’m going to be penniless and jobless. My safety blanket has gone and I need to figure out what my next adventure will be…still thinking. I’ll get back to you on that one.

I’m not expecting anyone to understand my reasons behind what I’m doing, nor do I care if they agree with them, but it is funny meeting others who have a completely different perspective on life. Walk in Mel and Steff, my roommates. They went through a similar hardship raising funds for their trip except they only planned on visiting Thailand. Their Australian leg of their trip was a spontaneous decision which is admirable. They came to Australia with nothing and had no money for a back-up plan. Both Mel (waitress) and Steff (freelance labouring/removals) are on a good wage, earning at least double what I make in a week.

You could say that we were both in the same position as I had more money than I anticipated when I arrived in Australia. Unfortunately the money I saved in other countries ended up getting spent in the first weeks of my stay here searching for a job. Mel and Steff also had more money than they anticipated but have since decided to purchase luxuries they didn’t have the opportunity to get whilst they were saving back home. Mel has bought an apple MacBook Pro and a Blackberry. Steff also bought a Blackberry and a second hand laptop.

I’m not going to lie, I have bought some clothes whilst I’ve been here. I only had one dress so my wardrobe was in desperate need of a revamp. It’s funny how back home I would rummage through my entire wardrobe and moan that I had nothing to wear whereas then, I literally had nothing to wear on a night other than my dress. Sometimes it’s not even a case of what I have to wear, but what’s clean and half decent. Oh the glamour of being a backpacker!

So Mel and Steff have no qualms about spending now and saving later. An extra kick in the teeth still is that they’ll probably still have more money to spend travelling around Australia than I will!

I don’t think I’d have the strength to carry an Apple or anything like that around with me. I’d be constantly fretting that I’d sat on it or left it on the train. Either instance is more plausible than you think in my case!

Obviously that’s their preference, but it’s one that baffles me. I guess Mel and Steff are here longer than I am so have a better chance of saving more money for future travels.

Australia is good for one thing, and that is shopping. They have good shops and excellent sales. Even their charity shops are awesome. Yes, I have bought items from a charity shop. Vinnie’s is the place to be. I bought a dress for $3 and books there are $1 or 2. I must say though, someone ought to tell the retailers that the lowest coin denomination here is 5c so by pricing something at $9.97, you aint fooling anyone mate, that’s $10. At least in England, when something is priced £9.99, that’s actually what you pay.

They say money can’t buy you happiness but it can buy things like cake and pretty clothes which give you shorts bursts of the stuff. That’ll do me just fine. However, the bits in between are full of work, sleep and stress. Who knew settling down in one place could cause such problems. I was looking forward to it, but now I can’t wait to get outta here! I can’t even begin to describe how much I’m looking forward to getting back on the road again.

After heavy discussion and much debate, Mel, Steff and I have formulated a rough plan as to where we would like to go before we part ways. So far this is our list:

1. Fly out to Tasmania – 1 to 2 weeks
2. Fly back to Melbourne – 1 week
3. Rent out a campervan/car and do the Great Ocean Road
4. Head across to Adelaide and either get a train and join a tour of Uluru or drive there ourselves. We’re still undecided on that one. It all depends on what money we have left.
5. Head across to Cairns where we hope to find some work to boost our funds. We might have to stop off somewhere sooner for work, perhaps Adelaide.
6. Travel overland from Cairns to Byron Bay with several stops in between (e.g. Great Barrier Reef, Fraser Island, Gold Coast).
7. I bid a tearful goodbye to Mel and Steff and fly out to Auckland from Brisbane.

It doesn’t really sound like much of a plan. Hopefully we’ll fill in the gaps a bit more nearer our departure. As long as we have a rough guess, the rest we can take as it comes. It’s all part of the fun! Of course, in the meantime, we could have strangled each other by then, after 3 months of living under each other’s skin in a teeny tiny three bed room. I’m surprised we’ve survived this long.

Sydney So Far...Hostel Life

I was pretty lucky when I first arrived at the hostel. I’m not sure whether it was because Mel and Steff were on friendly terms with the manager or not but I certainly wasn’t complaining. I had a female only dorm to myself for my first three nights. The girls who checked in after that were quiet, clean and considerate. Perfect.

The same couldn’t be said for Mel and Steff though. As a couple, they have no choice but to stay in a mixed dorm. They’d been moved around a few times and each room seemed to get worse and worse. It was the final straw when they had to share a room with a smelly guy and someone who went to bed ridiculously early and complained when Mel and Steff came in on a night. Mel had no choice in the matter when she finished work late and I felt sorry for her when she had to root around in the dark with only the light from her mobile to guide her. The girl in my room was the opposite as she left the light on for me when I came in late one night. I kindly returned the favour too.

Although my room was weirdo and B.O free, the same couldn’t be said for the other dorms on my floor. The girl’s toilets, sinks and showers were often left in a diabolical state. I felt like I was living with apes! I honestly don’t understand how people can live like this!

People put their shoes and, in this case socks, outside their doors. I guess this is considerate as not to stink the room out. Instead, the odour hovers in the hallway instead. Lovely

This guy didn't have Odour Eaters to hand so thought a tower of cookies might have the same effect. Hmm.

Seeing the dire situations that people were living in didn’t make me warm to any of them. I kept myself to myself. It also didn’t benefit that people were helping themselves to my food in my cupboard and fridge. I’ve had small things taken like cheese, milk and sausages. My flip flops were taken from me too which hurt as they were decent ones I bought on the cheap in Thailand. One cheeky git opened my pack of bread and took one baguette and helped themselves to my cooking oil. My yoghurt was taken too. I think that hurt the most. It was damn good yoghurt and it wasn’t cheap. Thieving bastards. 

My temper was flaring but, before I had chance to plot a poison attack on the next food thief, Mel and Steff had a proposition for me. Their idea was for us all to move into a trio room and push forward our search for a house share or short term apartment lease. We wanted to be out of there before Christmas preferably.

Unfortunately we took to our search in a rather naïve manner. In England you either have furnished or unfurnished housing. In Australia, a furnished rented property is very odd. “Free furniture? Why would you give someone your furniture for free?” This was the general Aussie consensus. Making phone call enquiries resembled the moment in Cool Runnings where Derice tries to get sponsors for the first Jamaican bobsled team. Plenty of laughing and pointing.

We finally thought we’d gotten somewhere when we saw a property being leased for up to three months. Mel and I went to an open viewing and were the only people who showed up. To our wonderment, not only was there no furniture (which we expected), there wasn’t even a flipping fridge! We would have to start from scratch and buy everything. Yes we could buy things off of Gumtree for knock-down rates. We could even go all pikey and scavenge off the discarded items left on the lawns of local residents – a common occurrence where the council shifts any unwanted items away. The Aussies take spring cleaning to a new level! We saw people leave TVs, cupboards and couches. Obviously they’ve not heard of eBay! You certainly wouldn’t get that in England!

Our dreams of snuggling on a couch sipping tea whilst watching a movie on a proper TV were slipping away from us. It dawned on us all that we will be staying in a hostel over Christmas and New Year’s which is what I feared would happen but hoped it wouldn’t!

If that wasn’t enough to bum me out, I was in for a bigger shock. I awoke one day and dragged my sorry ass into the dining area for a change of scenery. I tapped away on my laptop whilst listening to some Kanye West to lift my spirits. One of the hostel workers tried to get my attention. I paused my music and confirmed that my name is Danielle Lee room 30(whatever it was). I was told sternly and without any compromise that I needed to check out and leave the hostel immediately. I was literally told that there were no beds left and that the hostel was fully booked all the way up until 2012. Holy moly.

I objected once but was already embarrassed after I was cornered in front of everyone. I didn’t want to make a scene. I picked up my things and ran over to Mel’s room. Mel was already in a stress about something or other and started chattering away to me not realising that I was sobbing my eyes out. I interrupted Mel and started telling her the story but somehow my words weren’t coming out. I had no job and my soul was depleted from the hermit life I was leading. This was the last thing I needed. I usually let things build up until finally something gets to me and I can’t quite internalise it so all my emotions burst at the seams. Mel comforted me then stormed off to find out what was going on. Mel shouted at the hostel worker who brought me to tears and then stomped down to reception. For added context, Mel was still in her nightie. If I didn’t feel like my whole life had come crashing down, I’d probably find the situation quite funny. Five minutes later, everything was sorted. Technical error. I didn’t get an apology.

A few days after that trauma, I safely settled into our new snug trio room which consisted of a double bed for Mel and Steff and a single bed on top for me. Most people will probably think that that might get a bit awkward but we’ve become like a family as cheesy as that sounds. Mel feels like my big sister as she’s always got a philosophy of some kind when it comes to problems and has had a fruitful life for such a young age. Steff is definitely the younger brother. We’re always scrapping, name-calling and ribbing each other. He can be so excitable and giddy one moment and turn on you the next. Steff likes a good tantrum which can usually be pacified with candy but it’s not always to hand. Instead the poor lad has me and Mel to deal with.

Cosy. We’re certainly not paying for two!

Steff and Mel see me more as a Grandma since learning my age. I’m sure I told them how old I was in Phuket but it was a long-ass drain of a day so it didn’t surprise me that they’d forgotten. Well that was it. They couldn’t stop laughing as they each took it in turns to poke fun at me. Any joke you can think of about old people, they threw it at me. Now it’s a running joke that crops up at the most random of moments. I was sat on a bench at the bus stop once and Mel and Steff were elsewhere nibbling on Subway cookies. Mel burst out laughing and Steff grinned mischievously. “What’s he done now,” I thought as it’s usually something daft he’s said. Instead, the joke was on me as there were two elderly folk sat on the bench both with their hair tied back, both with glasses and both leaning over like me. I fit right in then!

We’re all as bad as each other for ribbing and it’s all in good fun (I think!). It didn’t take us long to get comfortable around each other. Obviously with it being such a small room it makes getting changed rather awkward. Cue hopping-whilst-holding-the-towel-and-simultaneously-hoisting-up-underwear shimmy dance. That got rather tiring and, in each of our lazy dispositions, we grew to either flash our good neighbours across the street or each other. Thankfully there is one part of Steff remaining that I haven’t seen and I do hope it remains that way! Ha!

That is one unlikely perk of having a balcony. We thought we’d use it to chat and chill out but there are more creepy crawlies roaming around on that thing than I can handle. I’ve already had two encounters with fat hairy huntsmen.

Steff heroically sprayed this beast with bug spray and flicked it off the balcony with a dining fork.

Not to mention the cockroaches that zip about. I’ve already burst the eardrum of one friend whom I was speaking to on the phone when one scuttled across my foot. Another evening a possum leapt out of a nearby tree. Mad.

I do often ponder as to where I would be or what I would be doing in Australia if I hadn’t met Mel and Steff. I might have met more people and moved around a bit more or even become a city bod and blend in with all the other suits. I definitely don’t think I would have lasted as long in Sydney without them. There’s enough here to drive me insane but we’ll get to all that soon enough. Despite the odd moan, I am truly happy and still have no regrets so that can’t be bad eh?

Melbourne To Sydney

I contemplated staying in Melbourne as it seemed like a lovely place and the people were friendly. It had nothing to do with the fact that I was staying in the same neighbourhood as Hugh Jackman. I still blush at my reaction to that. I was obviously impressed when Jay told me and my inner monologue went into overdrive. Perhaps we could drive past a few times until he comes out and I’ll just accidentally bump into him. “Oh I’m so sorry Mr Jackman. Are you ok?” *gropes bicep* 

Ahem…sorry about that. Turns out the guys don’t have the precise location of the house where Hugh Jackman lives. Eric Bana also lives in the area. Awesome. I also learnt that former Neighbours star Patrick Harvey, who used to play Connor, lives next door. I wasn’t that impressed and have since learnt that he’s a bit of an idiot (they used another word!). I didn’t see anyone famous which is probably a good thing given the above. I might get arrested!

As my friends Mel and Steff were based in Sydney and I was told that there is more office work there, I decided to move over there instead.

Afraid that I was outstaying my welcome with Jay and Lucas on top of the need for a job, I decided to leave for Sydney the following day on the night train. Yes, another night journey. I’m a glutton for punishment.

The day before, I found out that I could in fact book my ticket online and pick it up at the station, so I decided to have another lie-in. My phone buzzed with a text message but I let it rest for a while. Having felt that I got all the sleep I could possibly manage, I got up and went to book my train ticket. I can’t actually remember the reason why I couldn’t book it online. It might have been the payment options or a problem with my student discount. Either way, I had to go to the station to buy a ticket as I didn’t want to risk turning up before departure only to find that there are no seats left! I suddenly remembered that I received a text message earlier:

Forgot to tell you, the cleaner will be coming over today.

Oh dear. It was already late morning. I best move it! I showered, changed and left without breakfast. The guys had left me a spare key so I could let myself back in which was nice of them. They definitely must not think that I’m a psycho. I also wondered how much money these guys must be on to afford a cleaner. I don’t know anyone back home who has a cleaner!

I was confident that I could find my way back to the station as I did it the previous day. However, it didn’t help that I went the wrong way after exiting the flat. I followed my Google Map instructions and ended up in the arse-end-of-nowhere. I didn’t complain to begin with as it was a beautifully sunny day, the birds were singing…fooling you yet? I was slightly annoyed with myself and I was hungry. Not a good combination. I looked intensely at my map for a while. I turned it to the right, then to the left. It made no difference. Oh why do I have to be so bloody useless at getting around?

As I walked in a direction that could have brought me closer or further away from my intended destination, a lycra-clad cyclist stopped and asked me if I needed any help. This guy was so friendly and really helpful. He plucked out his iphone and searched for directions to the station. He figured out the shortest route and explained where I needed to go. This took me back to my days in Japan. Random acts of kindness from complete strangers. I felt a lot better.

I cut through a scenic park and then looked around in confusion. None of the roads were signposted. Great. Cue pacing around, speaking to another stranger and eventually I made it to the station. Phew!

It was a good job that I paid for the ticket in person rather than online as I went to the wrong counter the previous day. The correct counter was located on the opposite side of the station. I would not have been happy having to lug the beast round if that happened!

Sorted, finally! I went back to the flat and was in the middle of packing the beast when Jay came back. When he asked how my day went, I skipped the part where I got lost AGAIN (!) and casually said I’d just nipped out to buy my train ticket. With the beast packed and resting, I sat back and too relaxed until my impending night train.

*****

The night train proved uneventful. The seats were spacious and I wasn’t sat near any annoying/weird/loud people so all was good. The main annoyance was that the lights went out at 10pm…10pm!!! It turned out to be the most boring night journey ever. I couldn’t do anything except sit there and try to go to sleep. I listened to a lot of music and drifted in and out of sleep. After what seemed like an actual lifetime, I arrived in Sydney. The all too familiar numbing pain in the arse welcomed me like an old friend. The dazed and confused feeling that you get after being disturbed mid-sleep was witnessed by the morning commuters rather than my alarm clock. Why do I do this to myself?

The internet, in all its wisdom, told me to get a train and a bus up to Collaroy where my friends were. Thankfully a kind staff member at the train ticket desk informed me that there is a direct bus to Collaroy. He gave me the bus number and told me where to buy a ticket. Awesome.

It was a good job I spoke to him as all buses from Sydney city only accept pre-paid tickets during the day and won’t allow anyone to purchase a ticket on the bus. Quite a few people made the mistake of trying. Damn, Sydney bus drivers are grumpy. Glad I didn’t feel their wrath today. They must have let me off, it being my first day and all.

The bus driver kindly shouted me when my bus stop arrived. I got off and was footsteps away from the hostel. Now that’s more like it! Mel had already booked me a room, I just needed to pay. Once I settled in my room and got my bearings, we went to the beach for a while. Again, this was also footsteps away. Across the road was the beach and to my left and right were shops, takeaways, restaurants and a post office. There’s even a bar over the road. Everything seemed perfect (emphasis on the seemed!). Eight weeks later and I’m still here and currently counting down the days when I can get out!!

Aussie Aussie Aussie!

If you wait to do everything until you're sure it's right, you'll probably never do much of anything. Win Borden

...a quote which I should have read and acknowledged years ago. I am a perfectionist. This means that I work hard no matter how big or small the job in question is. I strive to make sure that I perform to the best of my ability and ensure that everything runs smoothly. This sounds perfect in a job interview, but in life, it's a pain in the arse. It means I'm never happy. I feel that I can always do better and, if there is something which I can't do (an obvious inevitability), then I torture myself for it. This is why this quote really struck a chord with me. If I hang around and weigh up my options, try and figure out a safe route in life or generally "play it safe" by sticking to a career I can comfortably be accomplished in, then I won't end up doing anything. Or be it, I won't end up doing anything EXCITING! I'm choosing to grab life by the balls and see what happens.

I thought I'd start off my first Aussie blog with a sweeping statement. I frequently get asked, “What are you going to do when you get back?” Saying, "I don't know" draws gasps. You don't have a plan? You're not going to have any money or a job when you get back? That is correct. I worked my arse off solidly for over 8 months so I could travel the world. The last thing I'm going to do is come back with more than loose change. I want to spend the lot baby! My roommates and I are on a different planet as one's just bought an Apple MacBook Pro and the other a Dell laptop but we'll get to that another day!

*****

I arrived in Melbourne with mixed thoughts. I don't really know much about the true Australia. I can't judge Australia on what I've seen on the TV - imagine if people judged England from what they see on American TV! I don't know any Australians either. I also got so wrapped up in researching Japan that I didn't really put much thought into my Australian leg. Backpackers flock here so it can't be that hard. I met a girl who travelled and worked in Australia and she arrived with only a couple of hundred pounds to her name. If that girl can do it, why can't I? Obviously I’d prefer it not to be a struggle but when is life ever easy?

With an open mind, I entered Australia and wondered what delights awaited me. Melbourne Airport was a very strange affair. I already looked like a drunken zombie thanks to my blocked-sinuses-ordeal (see previous entry) and then I saw this a sign stating that customs and immigration was being televised.

I flinched at first but then relished the thought of feigning a fuss of some kind. I pictured myself being dragged away by security screaming, “You can’t do this to meeeee!” Alas, my imagination had spun into overdrive and it wasn’t anywhere near as exciting as I thought it would be. Security weren’t bothered that I had mud from Mount Fuji still on my hiking boots and my medical supplies weren't worthy of confiscation. Dammit.

Moving forward, I noticed that Melbourne Airport was nothing like Singapore Airport. There was no butterfly garden let’s put it that way! There wasn’t much of anything. I couldn’t even get bloody wifi. What kind of country is this? I exchanged some money only to realise that I was charged a fee for doing so. So no wifi and now you’re stealing my money. Hmm, Australia you are not doing so well on the first impressions!

The helpdesk was no err help. The woman told me to go to the other side of the airport as there’s wifi there. There is no wifi on the other side of the airport. Hmph. Defeated, I boarded the Skybus to the city centre in search of food and wifi. Along the way I had to squint hard a few times until I realised that it wasn’t my eyesight that was the problem. Yes, everyone around me seemed to be ridiculously good looking. This realisation came to a head when I sat down for a rest outside Melbourne metro station. Picture the “Girl in the red dress” scene in The Matrix. Everything slowed down and amongst all the suits this svelte perfectly tanned girl of around the same age as me breezed past. She had long blonde hair and was wearing a beautiful dress and coordinating sandals. I think my jaw actually dropped upon this sight. I wanted to be her. Just like that. What shocked me further was that nobody batted an eyelid. Nobody dropped their sandwich or spilled their coffee in their agog state. It was like this girl was normal, just like everyone else. Well shit on me, I’m screwed. I’m wearing a grease-stained top and scraggy shorts. The Beast had drawn all the sweat from my body, the remains settling uncomfortably on my back and face. Sexy. I wanted to run and hide for all of 30 seconds. I then snapped out of it and carried on as usual. I only worry about my appearance when I’m out to impress someone. Well that aint happening anytime soon! Wait…I’m about to meet two strangers and sleep on their couch for the next couple of days. Hmm. Let’s hope they embrace the hobo look.

I had around three hours to kill before I had to worry about that. I needed a travel adapter and wifi access. I thought the best idea would be to stay close to the station. Drifting too far away will only end in disaster – a lesson learnt a long time ago!

After trudging around for a bit, I managed to find both…not in the same place of course. Navigating my way around Melbourne at this point wasn’t too bad. The place felt familiar. Not like in a de ja vu way but there seemed to be almost a British air to the place. Obviously I’m in an English speaking country but there was that city air that felt a lot like home. People in suits rushing around, business meetings in cafes, guys in slouchy clothing draped over the nearest propping device…all too familiar. The only way that I knew I hadn’t flown back to the UK was the sun beaming down on me. That is definitely not England. Not typically anyway. It was a welcome relief after the continued rainfall I experienced in Singapore.

I decided to take up temporary residence at a cute little café. Cute but flippin’ expensive! I purchased the cheapest thing I could find – a cookie and a can of coke (I don’t even like coke so I have no idea why I bought that. It must be the shock!). This came to $6 which is around 4 British pounds. That’s madness. I hoped that wasn’t a sign of things to come (this was a sign of things to come).

I nibbled at my cookie to make it last long enough so I wouldn’t have to buy something else whilst using their wifi.

*****

The time had come for me to make my way towards the potential axe murderers that I’d be bunking with. That was an arse in itself. Now back home, the screen that displays the platform numbers and coordinating trains actually reflects the platforms and trains that are contained in the station. Well…99% of the time. For some reason this didn’t happen as I soon found out when I nearly boarded the wrong train. I also found out on my second day that you’re supposed to validate your train ticket before you get on or you’ll be facing a hefty on-the-spot fine. Sheesh. This kind of stuff should be written down somewhere before you enter the country. Unless Aussies do it on purpose to perplex foreigners. That does sound plausible in hindsight.

I eventually made it to where I needed to be - Elsternwick. I found the nearest bench and fell asleep. I awoke to what started off as a faint whispering of my name. I then realised that my prospective tenants had pulled up in their car and was calling out to me. Shit! Ok, act normal. They’re probably gauging whether I’m a psycho or not.

Dazed and confused doesn’t even begin to describe the state that I was in. My new house friends – Jay and Lucas – were trying to strike up conversation with me in the car and I had no idea what was going on. I was beat. I got what I interpreted as looks of empathy. I was staying with former backpackers so I’m sure they too have been there and done that.

Jay and Lucas were awesome. We ordered Thai takeout which was lovely and plentiful. I ate like I hadn’t eaten for days. Neither guy judged me for it. Lucas bought me a can of Sprite which I was going to skip out on as the cost wasn’t worth it for me. I thanked him profusely and he laughed at me. That happened a lot that night as it turns out, I don’t speak English. I travelled all this way expecting to visit an English speaking country only to find that I’m in a place full of crazy speaking people. I don’t know what language Aussies are speaking but it isn’t English. However, I’ve been told that it is I who cannot understand nor speak English. Not an aired observation by Jay or Lucas I hasten to add.

It was funny whilst I was with Jay and Lucas. Certain words stood out for me – rice is roy-ce, hostel is – hoss-tell and The Strokes sounded like something I can’t even write phonetically. It was just a noise. It was funny as I waffled on like I normally do (the Thai curry injected some life into me by this point) yet I could tell that, for the most part, Jay had no idea what I was going on about…and vice versa! We still had some good banter interspersed amongst the confusion.

At this point I think we all breathed a sigh of relief. There’s no dungeon here…or an axe for that matter! I hoped that the guys also realised that I’m not a crazy person. Well…crazy as in I’m going to run off with your laptop and fridge contents crazy.

Jay and I moved the gigantic mattress (how big did they think I was…they must know about the cake!!) from behind the couch and I even got a blanket and pillow. I got laughed at again due to my excited nature at seeing a proper mattress. It’s like gold dust in dorms these days! Jay asked me to turn off the TV and light when I’m ready to sleep. As soon as he said those words I was out. I woke up in the early hours and embarrassingly realised that I didn’t turn off the TV or light and I was still in my scraggy shorts and grease stained top. Whoops.

Krabi Is Full Of Surprises - Part One

Apologies for the delay in posting. I got a little bit distracted in Phi Phi but I'll get to that later. I still have tales to tell from my time in Krabi...

My mood picked up exponentially after leaving Koh Phangan. The only fond memory I have of that place is Nira's Bakery. Anyone heading there should pay a visit. Almost all of the food is homemade and the prices are reasonable. There's free wifi and two computers which are free to use for customers. I only made this discovery a couple of days before I was to depart Koh Phangan so wasn't able to take full advantage...not that I had much to say about the place anyway! The journey itself only took a few hours and I was that drained, I slept most of the way. The transportation and transfers in Thailand never gets old for me, I find it hilarious. With the boat trip it really is an every-man-for-himself type situation with your baggage. Try and keep an eye out for where it is thrown and as soon as the boat begins to meet the port, run. I'm usually in no rush to depart planes, buses or boats, but here it is wise to get in and get out as quickly as possible or you'll end up  being stuck behind the ditherers looking for their indistinguishable luggage.

The next bout of fun comes with the buses. Always take the arrival time with a pinch of salt. I was told that I'd be arriving at Chumphon at 6am but ended up there at around 4am! It's best just to follow everyone else - they move, you move. This is where the stickers come in handy. For each boat and/or bus ride you take, you get given a sticker to attach to your shirt which is actually a good idea. I'd much rather someone glance at my shirt and usher me on than having to faff around with paper tickets! The stickers are usually brightly coloured so I just follow people with my stickers. There's no going wrong there, although I do find that everyone else is just as clueless as I am, but still, comfort in numbers.

Then on to the hotel transfers. This is where it gets really confusing. Multiple bus/boat loads of backpackers, travellers and families on their jollies descend upon the deluge of taxi drivers. We always conveniently (for the drivers) get placed in the middle of nowhere so even the most gifted of orienteers would need to get a taxi. I have free transfers to my hotels so I need to find the guy that won't charge me a crazy amount to drive five minutes up the road. Sometimes there are signs with my hotel on, sometimes there isn't. For the latter, I have to repeat my hotel name several times. For Krabi, I stayed in a place called Orange Mansion for which I got "Ao Nang?" as the response. The hotel is in Ao Nang but I don't want to go to the beach, I want to go to my hotel.

After the madness, I finally arrived at my hotel. The taxi driver parked outside a supermarket and announced jovially, "Orange Mansion". The other passengers stifled a giggle. I was thinking the same thing so decided to air my anxiety - "well, it looks like I'm staying in the local 7-Eleven!". I was the temporary comedian. In my shock, I left my bag with my hiking boots and dirty washing behind. I ran back only to find one of the backpackers had taken possession of them. Oh NO you didn't. I'll take that and mumbled something about them having my dirty washing if they wanted it. Cheeky bastards. That happened in Japan too when I had to store my luggage in reception. Sometimes you really do have to have your wits about you when it comes to fellow backpackers.

I was greeted by the incredibly friendly (but not in a creepy way) owner of Orange Mansion, Joey. He put me at ease straight away with a couple of jokes and told me he wanted me to feel like this place was my home, which was sweet. I was left to my own devices and Joey said he would be around if I needed any help or advice. I grabbed a load of tour leaflets and went to my room. My jaw dropped. This place was a luxury compared to where I'd been staying previously.

Bish - a fan

Bash - a fridge!! Air con too!

Bosh - hot water. Holy moly!

I was in love with Krabi already and that was just because of my room. I had bed sheets too which were welcomed with open arms. I'd not seen them since...wow, since Bangkok! I was in such a good mood I decided to treat myself. You're probably thinking I went out and bought myself something nice or had a slap-up meal. No, by treat myself, I mean to buy the things I haven't had for a long time. It was the simple things that I missed. I bought some Colgate toothpaste - I've been using travel tablets to save on room in my toiletries bag and I miss that minty fresh taste. I also wanted shaving foam as I was sick of having to use soap suds. I had no such luck with that one. Instead, I bought some fancy soap.

Wait a minute...this is no soap! Looks and tastes just like Galaxy to me.

I had a great shower and felt super clean. It's not nice walking round with a film of suncream topped with DEET mixed with the day's sweat. Cold showers just don't shift that clammy feeling. I wrapped myself in my orange (how apt) towel and spent the remainder of the evening watching TV and thinking about what trips I should do.

The next day I decided to book a trip to visit the James Bond island which includes a canoe trip in the caves. Joey offered me a discounted rate to what was listed in the leaflet which was nice. He booked it for me and told me to come to reception at 8:30am. I therefore decided to take it easy (like I need an excuse!) and visit one of the beaches. Joey kindly gave me a lift there rather than walking or paying for a tuk-tuk. 

It was a nice clear and sunny day on Nopparathara beach

I had the beach almost to myself. I walked out to the shallow island area you can see in the previous photo

That is pretty much all I did that day I think...yep...beach bum. The next day I got up and started thinking about the trip I was about to go on. I hadn't had much luck with meeting new people in Koh Phangan so that day I went in with the attitude of "sod you all. I can't be arsed trying to make friends with people." I wasn't quite as outwardly stroppy as that but had it in my head that if the mountain won't come to Muhammad then it's probably not worth the effort anyway. Isn't that how the proverb goes? I know it's a bit catchier than that though. Well it actually turned out that the mountain did come to me. Ok, I'll stop speaking in proverbs or what-not. As I opened the door and entered the taxi, I looked up to see a familiar couple. In that instant we both pointed and recognised each other from the Bangkok to Chumphon bus. I mentioned the lady who I sat next to on the bus in my Just Keep Swimming blogpost. Her name IS Heidi by the way but she wasn't with her husband. They're engaged. Close enough! What a fantastic surprise. We all chatted to each other non-stop throughout the journey and was only interrupted briefly by Root, our guide for the day. It was another chance for passengers to swap tour guide stories. The Thai tour guides are very sweet and their English is usually good but they always repeat things and emphasise things. It is one of those you-have-to-be-there moments.

Jon and Heidi both confessed to experiencing problems meeting and making new friends too and pegged it down to being a couple. I guess most people would not approach a couple for fear of intruding. I certainly felt that way to begin with but, upon hearing this and their delight at having somebody new to speak to, I latched on to them for most of the trip.

Errr...James Bond Island?

Koh Pannyi - Sea Gypsy Island. I was told around 1500 people live in this floating village.

After talking the ears off of Heidi and Jon, we were offloaded onto a long tail boat headed for James Bond Island (The Man With The Golden Gun - Roger Moore). The boat ride was bumpy and we were surrounded by life jackets. We weren't sure whether to be worried or thankful. Heidi and Jon regretfully (on their part) did not sign up for the canoe trip so we split up. It was here that I met Anne and her two friends Jenna and Sarah. They were all American and work as teachers in Hong Kong. Anne asked if she could go in the front of the canoe. I didn't object but was shoved into the front by a local. I apologised to Anne and gestured to the shover proclaiming that I had no choice. I don't think Anne was convinced.

The caves were an intriguing sight and kind of spooky at certain points.

A nice view

Anne and I

It was at this point that we struck up conversation with our rower Jack. I'm not sure if that is his real name or if it is a shortened part of his original name. I grew even more suspicious when his friend Max turned up. Max was steering Sarah and Jenna behind us.

I took this just before I was almost got head injury number two!

Walking fish!

Sarah liked to sing...alot. Even more than me I think! Here Sarah is singing Hotel California.

It was time for lunch. I didn't have time to grab any breakfast so I was incredibly hungry. The food was good but one of the waitresses duped Heidi, Jon and I into thinking that soft drinks were part of the meal. They charged us double the price of what they are in the shops. The sweet fizzy drink was deliciously refreshing but the annoyance of its origins left me with a bitter aftertaste. I was also the only one who noticed the frosty demeanour of an Israeli couple sat next to me. It was only little things like not saying please and thank you, demanding a second dish and not sharing it with the table on top of their general monotone deliverance. I shook it off as a bad first impression and got on with my day.

No silly, this is James Bond Island! I look quite tanned here...no wait, that's just the shade :(

Me on a rock next to James Bond Island. I was too hot and bothered for the novelty "it looks like I'm holding up the island" photo.

The beach itself was too crowded and I wasn't too fussed with getting a photo full of random people and a bit of sand, even if Roger Moore graced it with his presence. I was quietly enjoying my Magnum when a couple asked me to take their photo. I said through gritted teeth that I would after I'd finished my ice cream. They then proceeded to have an argument about something relating to their child and waited for me to finish my ice cream. They then walked off so I had to go and find them. I wasn't going to walk off in case they shouted after me and created a scene. Again, it's too hot to argue. It was the hottest day of my stay in Krabi and I was sweating so hard. Once we had our fill of the island it was on to the monkey temple. Root kept repeating "no food, no monkey." He then went on to tell grand tales of how five monkeys climbed onto an old lady who had bananas. Everyone grinned with pleasure at the thought. They wanted monkeys!

On the bus ride over I got chatting to two Brits...two YORKSHIRE Brits. Flipping heck. It's been a while. John is from Manchester and Dave is from Chester. Despite their proximity to York, they still proceeded to make fun of my accent. How rude. I kind of liked it though. For everyone else, my accent is a novelty, but back home I get ribbed by my southern friends. It reminded me of home. The conversation was dominated by cake as, surprisingly, both guys are obsessed with cake. They tried to convince me that they love cake more than me but...well you all know full well what my feelings are on cake. They have a pretty tough battle on their hands if they want to win that crown. We swapped cake stories and discussed other things we had in common. It was so strange how similar we seemed to be. But then something happened. Something terrible. Something so grotesque, I'm not sure whether to mention it. Dave handed me his camera so I could see his photographs taken at the tiger temple. I flicked too far to the right and was greeted by the biggest pile of shit I have ever seen...literally. Apparently this is what guys do. They take photos of their poos and text them to mates. Not just any poos. Only the massive ones or hangover ones or ones after a bad curry...you get the picture. They both proudly told me their poo stories. I didn't know what to say. That is where the similarity ends of course. Obviously I don't know anything about guys as I wasn't aware of this poo party. I think I should move on...

Root announced that girls need to cover their shoulders. Arse. I had nothing but a towel. Dave kindly offered his shirt. Both guys were gentlemanly and helped me up and down the steps in the temple. The poo trauma fell to the back of my mind and I carried on having a laugh with these guys. Everyone wanted in on the monkey action. I wasn't too fussed really. Dave and John bought a heck of a lot of bananas and offloaded some on to me.

John and his new little friend.

I thought I'd get in on the action. The little ones are scrappy!

John thought it would be a good idea to put a banana on my head. Everyone watched aghast, as if a monkey was going to jump out and decapitate me. Instead, one sat on my lap and I fed and stroked him. Nobody else had gotten as close to the monkeys. I was pleased with myself.

Then John stole my thunder. Pah.

The day wasn't over just yet. We had some waterfalls to swim in. For some reason the guys didn't bring their swim stuff or a towel. I went with the girls into the first waterfall. The water was so cool that I didn't want to leave. We soon got bored and went to the second waterfall. We saw people jumping off the side. The rocks at the side of the waterfall jutted out quite far. I wouldn't want to jump in from that high anyway but if there was a group of us I'd have done it. I was already nursing head injury number one and, after seeing those rocks, I certainly wasn't willing to risk it for a chocolate biscuit. I didn't want to die so I left it to the nutters. John and Dave had fun...ahem. Sarah jumped in after many attempts to psych herself up. Sarah only just made it over the rocks. Crazy. I awkwardly climbed across to see Dave and John grinning mischievously. I'm guessing they already jumped. We stood and watched others propel themselves off the mountain ledge. Some chose to cannonball, some chose to jump with all their might and one rather mature chappy dove in head-first! I jokingly dared John to dive in and, without hesitation, he said he'd do it. I know what you're thinking, and I too thought, if an oldie can do it then I'm sure John won't have any problems. One large and, what looked to be rather painful belly flop later, John made a bashful return to the group, torso reddened with defeat. Dave was still rolling around in the water in hysterics. I couldn't stop laughing at both John's dive and Dave's reaction. I'm still not sure which was funnier. It was only then that John told us that he can't actually dive. We both said in disbelief "If you can't dive then why did you try?" For which John hopelessly replied "Well the old guy could do it." Haha!  

Happily drenched, we all went back to the taxi for our ride back to our hotels. Overall, the day was awesome. I made some great friends and met up with those I never thought I'd see again. John, Dave and I arranged to meet the Americans at the Hippy Bar in Krabi. The guys were not helpful. At first they couldn't remember the name of the bar. Then when they did, they couldn't remember where it was. Luckily for me Joey was on hand to give me a lift across. I nipped out for some supplies.

You can never have too much water!

Everything looked set and then, out of nowhere, the heavens opened and it chucked it down. Not only that, but there was a massive scary thunderstorm. The cracks of the thunder were so loud, it felt like they were striking on my balcony. It's the scariest thunderstorm I've ever witnessed. I had nobody to cuddle up to either. There was still an hour until I was set to meet the guys. The thunder settled and it was just heavy rain left to battle with. That I can handle. Joey looked concerned but I wanted a night out dammit! The guys confirmed they'd be there so off I went. I was far too early but was thankful for the shelter. I was the only one in the bar. The guys warned me about the live music they play there. The singing is awful. At that point I only witnessed what can only be described as the worst piano intro to Maroon 5's This Love ever. Oh dear.

The cocktails came with flowers.

John started to run out of ears. I think this is his flower dance.

The Americans strolled into the bar all dressed up. I felt like a scab. We played card games but I wasn't up for much drinking. After our meals I started to feel ill but persevered. We had such a good night. We played a game called spoons which involved five spoons. We each have four playing cards and the aim of the game is to get four matching cards (same number from each suit). This is achieved via the passing of the cards from one person to the next from the dealer who is picking up from the deck. Once a person has the matching set they pick up a spoon. There are five spoons and six of us all together. The loser is the one without the spoon. We then moved on to Ring Of Fire or King's Cups. I'd be here all day if I explained the rules - Google it. This game caused the most laughs as you can see below.

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Dave had to sing a song on stage as a dare.

Unfortunately the Americans grew bored and stopped playing half-way through so nobody had to down the King's Cup. Lame. The night continued at some weird bar in Krabi Town. As we entered, all seemed ok. People were dancing to some shite techno music and everyone seemed happy. We went in and I tried my best to dance to it, but unless I'm drunk, I have no idea how to dance to this! I can't shake my booty to oom-tsk-oom-tsk-oom-tsk wooooo. As another song rolled out the dance floor cleared and these scantily clad Asian girls started gyrating everywhere. Everyone else started dancing as if this was normal. Maybe it was the alcohol! There were the odd tunes I could dance to so I didn't look too stiff and out of place. At one point I did feel like a granny at a rave! John went off skinny dipping apparently and Dave escorted me home.

If you're still with me, well done. I think now you can understand why it took me so long to post this update! I have one more trip to tell you about in Krabi before I move on to my time in Phi Phi.