Postcards from... somewhere...

Postcard from Yosemite & Epilogue

emily_abroad — Thu, 6 Oct 2011 21:30:00 GMT

Early start. I was outside the hotel from 6.35am waiting for the tour bus to pick me up. They’d said 6.45 but I didn’t want to miss it. It didn’t arrive until 7.05... Most of the trip I stayed quiet in back, with my ear phones in. Nirvana, Johnny Cash & Lady Gaga. Just what I was in the mood for..

The trip was made up of 4 couples, the tour guide, and me. Well, I think the two young Aussie guys were a couple, but I wasn’t certain... Their dress sense didn’t seem to be too good, but they were young, and it is the fashion to wear the trousers half way down the waist. And they were Aussie, so the bad shorts and flip flops might be explained by that... I think they were a couple, a few moments seemed to indicate it. So, anyhow, me, the tour guide and 4 couples.

I decided early on that I wasn’t going to make a play for the tour guide. 1) it is very tacky. 2) there would be the next day to get through. 3) I started to get really annoyed by the sound of his voice on the speaker along the journey. 4) he made us walk a hell of a long way (6 miles+) up very steep hillage in the freezing cold (it was snowing, hailing, blizzarding) without any warning that we were going to be making such a stupid trek. I mean, we had old people on the trip. And I don’t mean me. There were real old people, parental type age who were really suffering...

But it was breath-taking. The sequoia trees are beautiful. Hundreds, thousands of years old, so huge, so tall. I took lots and lots of pictures. And the hail/snow and lack of other mad tourists meant we saw them in a really unique way which most people never would.

I do forget sometimes, though, that not everyone is quite as filthy-minded as me... Maybe because I’m positively chaste compared to some of the company I keep.... (And I count work colleagues in that too!!) Anyhow, there were two trees, called the Faithful Couple. Over the hundreds or thousands of years they had fused themselves together, almost like a reverse Siamese twin, born separately but joined afterwards.. My first response was that it was very unnatural to be so faithful for so long... My second, was that they had basically just been having sex for hundreds of years and what we were seeing was tree sex. But I said it out loud. The old people seemed a bit taken aback... :-p

But the cold! At one point, Jordan, the crazy tour guide, wanted to take the group up to some lookout point, another half a mile or more upwards... We’d already lost the older couple down at a mid-way stop. I decided I couldn’t go further upwards, especially as he said the escalation was going to be escalating.... And yet there wasn’t an actual escalator in sight... So, I waited. In the cold. And the hail. Not necessarily my best decision. But they weren’t too long, they must have almost run it.. I asked if it had been worth it for the view – they couldn’t see more than 5 yds in the front of them, and when we got down below we saw the sign – closed due to inclement weather. I told you, crazy, irresponsible tour guide.

I learnt two interesting factoids whilst on the hike. Firstly, fir trees are the vermin of the forest. They just keep growing, and grow very fast, preventing other trees from taking root. So, controlled fires need to be started to clear the vermin/rodent trees and let the baby sequoia’s grow. Basically, when we get real firs in our living rooms for Christmas, we are decorating a rat-tree.

Secondly, whilst you can’t eat the fungi that grow on the bark of the dead sequoia’s, you can apparently get high from too many chanterelle mushrooms. Whilst you’d need to eat almost nothing but chanterelle’s over several days to achieve any kind of hallucinogenic effect, it is at least a legal high that is still legal....

We finally got the hotel. I thought I was never going to get warm again, but a hot bath and the heating blaring out in the room sorted that. Ironically, it is the nicest hotel room I’ve been in all trip. Huge. Two king size beds, loads of room to walk around them. A working TV. Air conditioning, with heat. A bath as well as a shower.

I had thought that dinner would be more sociable, but when I went to the restaurant no-one else was there, so I had steak and a glass of red wine with my kindle. The red wine was very nice indeed, from a local winery called the Silver Fox, which I had to try as a friend of mine sometimes goes by that name... (His hair is silver, and he’s a big of a fox... My ex had a friend who also went by that name, probably for similar reasons, but it’s a different person). Anyhow, good wine and the steak wasn’t bad either.

The next day (today) we spent mostly in the Yosemite Valley. It was raining. Until we left, that is... Totally schizophrenic, multiple-personality weather... Thankfully we weren’t on any kind of compulsory programme of group ‘fun’ and could spend the time as we wanted. I definitely wasn’t in the mood for trekking up a hill or two in the freezing cold and rain, so took it easy, doing all the museums, the Wahwannee Lodge Hotel (which has some amazing interior design) and only doing the really low incline to the Lower Yosemite Falls. Basically, pretending to be an old person. It must be rubbing off...

Then, long drive home, lots of chitter-chatter from Jordan, drowned out by some loud, angry rock at full blast in my ears. I’m sure he was saying interesting stuff but I just didn’t like the sound of his voice...

At hotel now. Homeward bound tomorrow. My case is definitely overweight, so will have to see what happens when I check-in tomorrow... fingers crossed I get it all home safely...

___________________________

Epilogue...

It’s been a good trip. A much needed holiday, I was near breaking point (well, I’d broken little pieces off already actually...), what with working so hard and a pretty shitty year from a personal perspective... But I’m out of all that now, I’m excited about what might now happen at work – don’t know what, but there are going to be changes of one kind or another – and I feel good in myself, ready to get myself sorted and, well, happy.

Postcard from Monterey

emily_abroad — Thu, 6 Oct 2011 21:05:00 GMT

Another day with Ron & Franziska. It was brilliant, I was totally city’ed-out and it was great to just get away again in good company.

We went first to the Aquarium, we had members passes, which is very good as it saved us a fortune... We all agreed, it had been fun, but we were glad we hadn’t paid! My favourite was the jelly fish. But there was also that moment when the hammer-head shark was approaching from the left. The big white shark (ok, a baby big white shark, but nonetheless, a big white shark), was approaching from the right. For that moment, they almost looked like they stopped where they were, looked into each other’s eyes, and then, at the same time, decided not to face each other down and both turned away. Beautiful.

We then went to Fisherman’s Wharf for lunch. Ironic as we’d been trying to avoid the touristy bits of Cannery Row, and we did. Just exchanged them for other touristy bits... But the food was great, and I learnt that deep fried artichokes are some of the most delicious things that I’ve had the good fortune to taste on this planet... Earlier in the day we had passed a sign for deep fried artichokes. I had ridiculed the idea, claimed it was heresy to treat an artichoke that way. Oh no. The opposite. All artichokes should be deep fried... A light breadcrumbing around the outside. A delicious creamy/white wine/garlic sauce. Mmmmm.... When I saw them on the menu, and given my outburst, I had to try them. I was glad I did!

And then to the 17 mile drive to Carmel. Except it was miraculous we found it, as F was trying to guide us to a short cut to Carmel – I mean, why would we want to drive 17 miles if it was actually much less...? It was a very cute demonstration of the language ‘barrier’ that Ron & Franziska navigate every day, it made us laugh and I can tell it’s not a ‘problem’ at all (as F characterises it), it’s more like a constant source of hilarity and amusement for the both of them.

But the 17 mile drive was lovely. It took us a while, and there was this one jogger who was obviously going all the way around, he kept catching up with us... We didn’t bump into Clint – but I did learn that when mayor of Carmel he repealed the law which said you weren’t allowed to eat an ice cream from a cone on street corners. Sensible man, he deserves all his Oscars just for that contribution to American politics. Can Arnie say as much?

(I have since also learnt that in Carmel high heels are banned. Excellent. I should move there!) :-p

It was late when we got home, I was exhausted. It was so lovely for Ron & Franziska to spend two days of their vacation with me, I loved spending those two days with them, good times.

Postcard from San Francisco

emily_abroad — Thu, 6 Oct 2011 21:00:00 GMT

Also a short one, mostly because I didn’t do too much... I got up late, wandered down to get brunch, made my way to the SFMOMA, decided I wasn’t really in the mood to spend 18 bucks meandering through exhibitions so checked out the gift shop to make sure I wasn’t missing much... Which, as I decided I wasn’t, - and I didn’t buy anything either – I instead went across to the Jewish Contemporary Museum, which I did want to see... It always irks me that I know nothing about my Jewish heritage, friends have been wishing me Shanna Tova, and I didn’t know it was the New Year... Every so often I think about doing some kind of Jewish cultural studies course, but at the JCM I bought myself a book which might be the start of getting to be more informed... And after that, I’ll look into what’s next.

But the museum was really good, an exhibition of the work of Charlotte Saloman, and also a Houdini exhibition. Which of course I was very interested in... I didn’t know much about some of his stunts in the past, but, well, hmmm.... ;-)

Then, perhaps taking inspiration from Houdini, I decided to take a walk down to 8^th Street to do some shopping, the kind you can’t do in Union Square... But I was very disappointed by the shopping available. Really, in London, we definitely seem to have the best... It was amusing later when I met my friend John – who I also haven’t seen for maybe 17 years – and I said I’d been shopping on 8^th Street, he said, oh, did I mean xxxxxxx. And he’d nailed it. Maybe it’s obvious. Or maybe, I was disappointed because the shop I had been seeking out had stopped selling its line of womens clothes, and had more in store that a gay man might know about.... ;-)

And then San Francisco redeemed itself. Walking down on Mission, on my way back into town, I stumbled across an oasis of goodies, and spent a fortune...

Dinner with John was fantastic. He picked me up from my hotel, and we went down to his district, Castro, where we had a couple of delicious concoctions called a Cherry Cherry Bang Bang and a Ginger Tom... I got chatted up by a very good looking man, who loved my English accent and just wanted to keep me talking... I have no objection to flattery, even if it’s just about my accent, and even if the man involved is definitely gay. So rare to be chatted up by a good looking man, I wasn’t complaining!

Then we went to a Japanese restaurant, choosing the 7 course tasting menu and a jug of sake. The food was amazing, delicious, sublime. The sake went to my head. I had an awesome time, getting reacquainted with an old friend, we shared a number of confidences and I hope we get to spend many more such evenings together.

Postcard from the Sonoma Valley

emily_abroad — Thu, 6 Oct 2011 20:55:00 GMT

A short one. Sunday. It was a beautiful, sunny day. So amazing to see Ron again after so many years – 16 or 17?? – he hasn’t changed a bit. Although, I’m sure he has, life does that to us, but he looked the same, and we got on the same, so that’s what I mean... It was lovely to meet his wife, Franziska, to see them so in love, and so relaxed with each other, yet married for some time. Gives me some hope!!

It was a pleasant amble up in the car, arriving at the Viansa Vineyard in Sonoma Valley at about the same time as his cousins. Aimee, & her boyfriend Matt, Kat and her baby daughter Alyx, just 4 months old. I know I’m broody but spending time with Alyx, and seeing Kat with her, I just had it reconfirmed, I need to give this a go, see if it takes, be a mum, regardless of whether I’m a single mum.

A really lovely, chilled out day, sitting in the sun, drinking rosé, chit-chatting and making new friends.

Postcard from the Coast Starlight & the Teatro Zinzanni

emily_abroad — Sat, 1 Oct 2011 22:30:00 GMT

Just a short blog... Sitting in my hotel room in San Francisco, it’s got one of those over-bed fans – note to self, when I get my dream house/flat/someplace it’s going to have one of those over-bed fans, a wooden one, or one like this in white... Me likes....

The Coast Starlight was a very long train ride. Now, I knew that before I started but that somehow didn’t help. It was very long. 23 hours is very long indeed. And I guess being only 30 minutes late on a 23 hour journey is very good indeed, but it made it even longer... When I was 21 I travelled the Amtrak across America, New York to Washington, Washington to Chicago, Chicago to Las Vegas, Las Vegas to Los Angeles and finally, the Coast Starlight, Los Angeles to San Francisco. So, I have now completed the full Coast Starlight journey as it runs Los Angeles to Seattle. When I was 21, travelling across the States by train seemed exciting and romantic, and full of promise. And I thought, when I booked it back in February that it would be those things again. Plus, my very good friend S convinced me that I might bump into Ethan Hawke and have a Before Sunset/Sunrise moment of my own... But it wasn’t, and I didn’t. Instead, at lunch and dinner I was at a table with old people, the person next to me for the duration was old, and Ethan was nowhere in sight... By old, I don’t mean, old but young at heart. I mean properly old, grandparent old but without the joy of being your own grandparents. It was a long journey. Of course, the scenery was breathtaking. But not breathtaking enough to compensate for the length of the journey. Did I mention it was a long one?

So, I got into San Francisco rather tired and achy early this morning. Thankfully I could check into my room early, so I slept.

Then, to get food and explore. I took my boss’ advice and found Mel’s diner on 4^th and had a fantastic omelette. Then, to my deep dismay (not) I stumbled across an Ed Hardy store. Two for $40 is an absolute bargain, so I just had to add to my already over-heavy suitcase with two more t-shirts... Before I knew it, it was time to return to the hotel to get ready for the cabaret show in the evening...

Which was also my boss’ suggestion.... And quite disappointing. Rather alarmingly the audience of Americans thought it was totally amazing and the best thing they had ever seen. They need to see more Cirque du Soleil. It was not a patch on the Cafe du Paris, or La Soiree. On the other hand, when I saw that there were young children in the audience, I should have known that a magic act wouldn’t involve a little red handkerchief, a striptease, and full nudity... Nor fire-eating. Although there was sword swallowing briefly... I refrained from buying any of the Venetian masks that were on offer... I have several nicer versions of my own at home already...

However, the Russian acrobat on the hoop was beautiful, and the pink Russian doll was perfection. She has led me to suddenly *need* to have a bright red bobbed wig. It is on my wish list.... It was also lovely to get costume ideas and now I have lots of thoughts for how to make & adjust existing things... Which I will probably never get around to...

I was on one of the best tables for the show, but once again, placed with old people. An older lady and her fiancé, and her mother, who was 80. I am probably sounding quite ageist, but I still haven’t been carded, I’ve been ordering & drinking alcohol and I am being seated with old people... Do I actually look 60, and it’s only me that sees me in the mirror...? I might be in one of those body-swap films and not know it...

Getting home was interesting – got convinced to get a $10 per person limo back to town with several other people... and then it got a flat tyre... But still managed to share a cab with a couple, so got home in the end...

Tomorrow is wine-tasting, and a reunion with my friend Ron. We first met when we were 15 in Aix-en-Provence. I fell in lust with one of his friends, but we stayed in touch, then lost touch and were reunited via Facebook last year. I’m excited to see him, and meet his wife. And be amongst people who aren’t old.

Postcard from (mostly) Seattle

emily_abroad — Sat, 1 Oct 2011 22:05:00 GMT

A few days, blogging silence... Been too busy, not been in the mood, and the hotel didn’t have free wireless anyhow. But, I’ve got 23 hours to kill on the train now, and whilst the scenery is beautiful, there is only so much gazing out the window a girl can do... So, catching up on the writing...

The last day in Vancouver, it rained, pretty much incessantly. Which meant my plans to go back up to Stanley Park which I’d loved my first time around, were pretty much nixed. So, tired of my nails chipping, after breakfast I went to a nail salon and got them shellac’d, a gel polish that is supposed to last a couple of weeks – so far so good... Then, it was back down to Gastown to visit a boutique store I hadn’t realised was there when I’d been there the previous day... Spent some time there, trying on dresses and enjoying the company of the designer and the sales assistant... Made a very expensive purchase once the designer had agreed to alter the halterneck for my height, and deliver the dress to my hotel that night... How could I refuse that kind of service..? :-p

Still pouring with rain, and I realised that I was actually in the heart of what they call Vansterdam... I took a wander around the store, but didn’t buy anything... When I was in Seattle too, I noticed a full page spread advertising legal majajuana stores... Cool... Then, to steer clear of the rain, lunch at an Italian called the Bellagio (well, who wouldn’t?), and then to the Vancouver Art Gallery for the Surrealism exhibition. Really expensive, no headphones guide, and no leaflet to help guide you around. But she gave me a student ticket because I looked like one even if I said I wasn’t one!

Back to my hotel, I switched on the TV and realised I was watching the first episode of the new season of Gossip Girl. Result! Although it won’t be too soon when that annoying French prince leaves and we can go back to a straightforward Blair/Chuck/Dan triangle... xoxo

Decided to get dressed up and go out to the Keg for steak – overpriced but a Canadian chain that I do love. Delicious.

The bus across the border to the United States the next day, Tuesday, was fairly uneventful. We had to disembark, pick up all our luggage and queue up through passport and baggage control. They took my fingerprints and mug shot, and charged me $6 to do so – quite confused as they did that last time too, but hey, they let me in. A sniffer dog had been on the coach too, checking for contraband. We got into the Seattle a few minutes ahead of schedule, and there were some lovely views of the Space Needle as we approached.

Shared a taxi with a very dull British couple who were only in Seattle for the night, and couldn’t leave soon enough... Checked in at the Hotel Max, and I knew it had been accredited as LGBT friendly, but it was definitely cool & funky enough to have been a destination boutique hotel for any discerning characters. Every floor showcased art from local artists, with originals in the rooms. Walking down the hallways, every door had unique black & white photographs the length of the door. In the mini bar you could buy the book of all the art in the hotel.

But my room was really noisy, on the alley at the back, and where the trash vans seemed to dump or pickup from throughout the night. I complained the next day and was told for my last night I could get a better room. Except when I came back from my excursions on Wednesday I found my room door wedged open by a towel... Thankfully nothing was taken but it was absolutely staggering that it could have happened. They upgraded me straight away, and gave me vouchers for free dinner at the neighbouring restaurant...

But, I get ahead of myself. When I first arrived at the hotel, I took a little nap – I was feeling a bit overwhelmed by the new city, somewhere I hadn’t been before. Eventually, I forced myself to not let the city beat me, and I pulled myself out to Pike Market – which pretty much shuts by 6pm. I made it to the Old Starbucks though, bought a gift for Van, and a mug for me, wandered around and found a little restaurant where I had seafood risotto. I was glad I’d made the effort to get out, and to get my bearings for the next day.

Wednesday I went straight to the Space Needle via the monorail. Amazing views, took lots of pictures... then to the EMP for the Nirvana exhibition. Did take a wander around the Avatar one too, but definitely gave Battlestar Gallactica a miss!! Then back into the centre to Pike Market – just like at Granville Island, a feast for the senses, flower stalls and fish mongers, next to kitsch little jewellery stores and glass ornaments. But I do prefer Granville Island... I ate some chowder and some fish n’ chips at Lowells, which was just delicious, my table next to two men from the Air Force, also quite delicious... the Air Force was in town, everywhere you looked a uniform or three walking past....

Sometimes though, I’m a rubbish tourist. I seem to always end up shopping or going to the cinema. And I managed to do both – being quite tired I stumbled across the Cheesecake Factory, decided to take the weight off my feet by adding body weight with a cheesecake – but not just any cheesecake, a chocolate tuxedo cheesecake which was just absolutely sublime, smooth as mousse... and across the street, the cinema seemed to beckon me in... So I saw Drive with Ryan Gosling which wasn’t at all what I’d thought it would be, but was excellent... And then, on my way back to the hotel, Macy’s, Nordstrums, mall after mall, seemed to be begging me to come visit... Learnt my lesson though, getting on the Amtrak this morning – had to buy a shipping box because my bag was 10lbs over the maximum... I’m going to have problems with the flight on the way home at this rate....

So, get back to hotel, room door open, move rooms – much better room. Free dinner of sashimi and black cod was delicious, and back to my room, exhausted, but this time a great night’s sleep. I slept in yesterday, still feeling a bit jeg-lagged, and sometimes sucking the marrow out of life is just simply about taking the time to do nothing at all... Then, it was down to the waterfront, to Miner’s Landing and the Fisherman’s Wharf for brunch (I don’t think that Seattle knows how to do fish meals badly). I decided to give the Aquarium a miss, not wanting to spend another $20 or so on one more attraction... Then, along to Pioneer Square and Bill Spiedelman’s underground tour. Which was both hilarious and informative – hugely enjoyable, a real highlight. Up the Smithson Tower for more views and photos, and back up to Pike Market area for the night’s highlights at the Hard Rock Cafe.

I had a ticket to the 80s rewind gig but decided to eat there first. Giving fish a miss, it was time for a real American burger... with mushrooms and swiss cheese of course, because this is me, and if I can get a burger with mushrooms, I will have it with mushrooms... And a cocktail. Because I was at the Hard Rock... Up the stairs to the gig, and it was a band with a cute, slightly ageing girl, in a gold sequinned dress. Kind of Michelle Pfieffer like from that film with the Bridges brothers and she sings Making Whoopee on the piano, but not the same genre of song at all... So not then. The Fabulous Baker Boys. That’s it..

The band was good. Not my first time at a gig by myself, but it felt like it – I guess other times it’s been at V and I haven’t really been by myself, just temporarily... I had another drink – voda soda – to take the edge off but I still felt like I was sticking out like a sore thumb... It was amusing watching some of the dancing, one bloke seemed to just dance with his crotch... another girl, crazy dance girl, just seemed to keep sliding, kneeling, onto the floor, or bending backwards into people... there were lots of all girl groups and whilst my gaydar isn’t really any good at all, I wondered if some of them weren’t from the upstairs event... I knew from my previous research that the GPIS (Gay People in Seattle) group was meeting on the roof – at one point I went up, bought a drink and stayed long enough to drink half of it, which wasn’t very long at all as I drank fast - either there were no lesbian or bi women in Seattle, or that they were all downstairs at the 80s rewind gig. So, I went downstairs again too...

Decided to leave at the half way point... The band was good, but I’d had enough of feeling like a wallflower. And I was worried about getting back to the hotel, and an early start for the train today.

I must be about the only person in the world who can go alone to an 80s gig, which is full of very drunk people, some of them obviously enjoying the kind of munch-like antics I know so well back in London, and not pull or be pulled... Perhaps I had a big flashing light above my head that said ‘freak’, or ‘not interested’. I don’t know. But, I so far haven’t got asked for ID once, so I guess that’s something.... (Or do I now look my age, and that’s what it is...?)

Today, the Coast Starlight. Seattle was good to me, I liked it, and it didn’t rain on me once. By comparison, Vancouver rained a lot. But it’s Vancouver I want to return to again, I still love it the second time; Seattle is alright but it’s a pale imitation of its Canadian cousin.

Postcard from Vancouver

emily_abroad — Mon, 26 Sep 2011 11:00:00 GMT

I’m writing this whilst I wait from my breakfast -, or is it last night’s dinner? – at Mary’s Diner on Davie. Mary’s Diner is your typical stereotype, a juke box playing various rock (well, it might be digital but it’s a juke box), plastic seating, lots of chrome, and movie star posters adorn the walls. And neon, don’t forget the neon. It’s fantastic. And I’m starving.

It’s actually right by where I stayed 3 years ago, and I figure I should have stayed there again.. Davie is right in the heart of the gay district, and I’ve got to say, I feel really comfortable here... Robson, where my hotel is, is like staying on Oxford St..., right in the middle of all the ‘name’ shops...

But It was a nice little amble along, only 5 minutes or so through some green surburbia. And I came across a tree, with a door and flowers and a sign said it was gnome’s home... surreal.

It’s kind of fitting, that I’m here in Vancouver, and beginning my travel blogs again. When I started blogging last time, I hadn’t planned on ever coming home. I didn’t quite know where I’d end up, if I’d end up anywhere, and I certainly didn’t even think of myself as having a home to go home to. Now, I definitely do. But back then, when I was feeling optimistic, I’d thought that maybe I’d come here, make my life in Vancouver, live & work abroad. I knew I’d be able to get decent work, and I’d loved the city when I was here before. It’s so laid back, relaxed, inclusive, yet cosmopolitan and full of buzz. So, it’s apt that following what I could characterise as my breakdown/breakthrough, the next time I use my passport, is to come here.

But I’m rambling. So far, this holiday has been amazing, and it hasn’t even started yet. As soon as I got my bag checked-in and was through passport control & security, I felt a weight lift from me. No stresses. A strange weightless feeling that I tried to interrogate and decided it must be what ‘happy’ feels like. Not the kind of happy that feels like being high, on drugs or alcohol, the kind of over-excitement kids feel, and is always far too temporary and usually followed by a crashing low. No, the kind of happy that is calm, peaceful, content, and just ‘is’. I kind of like it.

The flight passed without too much incident. Being over-tired, sleep eluded me, so I settled for 5 mini vodkas washed down with 2 cans of soda... During that time I watched True Grit and the Lincoln Lawyer – and enjoyed both more than I’d expected. I didn’t even realise it was Matt Damon in True Grit until the titles at the end! Doh! And Matthew McConnahey should really make more films. By the time I’d woken up the guy next to me to go the toilet, I realised that I was really quite nicely pissed and settled in for some shuteye. I got about 2 hours, but it was better than nothing. (I’m glad I made the sensible choice on the alcohol choice, vodka being much ‘cleaner’ to mix with altitude than cheap plonk).

45 minutes to get through passport control, but no time to wait for luggage and downtown traffic still meant that I was early to check into my room at the hotel, so I went to the hotel bar, had some chowder and a glass of their local sparkling wine to pass the time. In what would surprise most of you, I sat at the high seats at the square bar, picture the bar in Cheers. It was friendly and meant I could exchange in some banter with the waiters – they’d forgotten that amaretto goes into a blueberry tea, as well as grand marnier... The room still wasn’t ready at 3pm but they upgraded me to the top floor which means I’ve got authentic art from the museum of anthropology hanging in my room, and a balcony. It isn’t all that, though. But it’s comfortable. I basically fell asleep straight away.

And woke up 16 hours later. I guess, it was like going to bed at 11pm and waking up at 3pm, which , let’s face it, is how I used to spend my Sundays before I got both a social life and a busy work life... So, I missed doing anything in Vancouver yesterday afternoon/evening, but I’ve got all day today. And I needed that sleep! Still managed to dream about work though...

Because it was early I had an indulgent bath with bubbles, slowly sorted out my stuff and here I am, eating Eggs Benedict with Canadian sausage... Except they call them Benny’s and the Canadian sausage seems to be a close cousin of Spam... Very very yummy, and just what I needed. Continuous black coffee replenishments, and I am a happy girl. This is a very busy place, it was emptyish when i came in, but now it’s packed and they’re queuing out the door... I came to the right place.

Next up, Granville Island. If I get time, off to Gastown, and then later tonight Rogers Stadium for Ice Hockey, watching the Canucks.

It’s now approaching 1pm and I’ve taken a brief break in a Blenz coffee shop – the local version of Starbucks, although they’ve plenty of those too. This time I’m indulging in an iced tea, one of my favourite things which I really ought to make up at home... I took the ferry across to Granville Island, huge towers of flats line the coast, but who’d care living in a sky-rise with a view like that..? The market at Granville was a smorgasbord of different smells & aromas, salmon next to meat, next to veg, next to fruit, next to chocolate, next to the deli & the pasta counter, next to the Chinese & Indian comfort food counters.. Bread, rolls, pastries, cakes. I was glad I’d already eaten, but still couldn’t resist the fruit skewer, so flavoursome. You just don’t get fruit that tastes the same in the UK... Somehow, in the shipping they must suck out all the sweetness...

And then the dangerous part.... Jewellery, silk, handbags, postcards, pictures, tourist tat & fine art. Once again, I went into the hat store, and once again I found a hat I loved, but didn’t buy it. This one was a bit like a twenties swim hat in soft fleece with a flower on the side... It felt lovely, looked great but was just too ‘fussy’ & different for me to ever wear. And at $88 I did the right thing and walked away... I wasn’t so strong with everything though, managed to spend a fortune on what will be my Mum’s Xmas present (sssshhh, in case she’s reading this) and bought some beautiful – not black, red (but with a rose) – fingerless glove things for myself. I also popped back into the store where 3 years ago I bought myself a hammock. I remember trying to figure out how to get the pole home, it was a nightmare. And of course, I’ve never erected it, not having a garden, or a wooden beam in the ceiling where I’m allowed to hang it from... I didn’t buy another one...

The weather is warmish but muggy & wet... sometimes the rain is quite heavy, but mostly just light. It’s pleasant and I really don’t mind it... That happy feeling – it seems to be here to stay... I hope.

Break-time over...

After my iced tea, I got distracted by a huge HMV where I just *had* to buy seasons 5&6 of Weeds, and be *very* disappointed that they didn’t have Californication... I also *had* to go into La Vie en Rose and buy a couple of skimpy little numbers that I may never wear... Well, I might.... and because the shop is called Rose, I *had* to buy a bag with the rose logo, and also a red rose... Which I hope doesn’t get too crushed in the journey home... (and first to Seattle, and to San Francisco...)

Shopping done, I decided as I was only a couple of blocks from the hotel I would return to dump the bags, so a quick detour and then out to Gastown. Why is it, that something as usually as dull as getting the bus feels like a huge adventure in a strange town..? I was more than mildly pleased with myself when I got on it... On my way I stumbled across the Look Out, which is high. I need to look up how high. But I took loads of pictures, the views were stunning, it was a shame it wasn’t a clearer day.

Then, into Gastown. Quite disappointing – I thought it would be full of funky independent stores, but instead it had a few high end Hampstead type artsy stores and the rest was tourist tat. Wandering on, I came across the Sun Yat Sen Chinese Garden, which was stunningly tranquil & beautiful. Again, I took loads of pictures. Onto get my bearings for the Rogers stadium, which I found quite easily, but also found there was nowhere really to eat – unless I fancied MacDonalds or similar, which I didn’t – so back to Gastown to the Old Spaghetti Factory, which had taken up residence in the 70s in an old warehouse. Beautiful decor. Indifferent spaghetti. And finally, back to Rogers for the game.

The Rogers stadium is a little like the O2, except much smaller and without all the shops & restaurants. So, nothing like the O2 then. Except it’s a Stadium trading on the name of the telco. And so, I couldn’t quite switch off my work head, noting how they were encouraging ‘famcam’ MMS, and supporting the local youth charities...

The game was really something else. Apparently there are 3 periods, each of 20 minutes. Although, the clock does keep stopping, so the first period took about 45. Several times during the period they stop for the ice to swept up (by cute girls with big brushes, and cute boys with spades & buckets), and in the interval of 16 minutes, they had the motor things come on to do a proper job. Whenever the clock stops, they’ll play a few bars of some rousing rock tune (we will rock you), and tell you to ‘make a noise’ but the game itself was quiet – you could hear the crack of the putt against the hockey sticks. (I think it’s called a putt). At the start, some guy sang Star Spangled Banner (the Canucks were playing the San Jose Sharks), and then the Canadian equivalent which was fairly forgettable. At least, I’ve forgotten what it was called, or what it sounded like. Everyone cheered though afterwards.

It was VERY rough. People being slammed into the walls, sticks being used as weapons. At one point, it descended into an actual fight. Or rather, 3 separate fights at the same time. I began to see why there were 4 referees on the ice. Players would be ‘sent off’ for 2 minutes for ‘an elbow’, or ‘roughing’, but 5 minutes was the penalty for ‘fighting’. One player eventually got sent off for 10 minutes for ‘serious misconduct’ – I think because he was involved in his second fight... It was really quite exciting.

But it was also a real family experience – almost everyone was there with children, anything from babes in arms, to toddlers, to young teens.

Oh, and they also did the ‘love cam’ where the camera would rest on a couple and they’d be expected to kiss. Just like in the movies. And mostly they did. Made me smile.

I left after the 2^nd period. The Canucks were 1-2 down, with 20 odd shots, vs the Sharks 24 or so... I think since they were keeping score of the shots too, that it must matter in the event of a draw... But the jet lag was closing in, and I didn’t want to get caught in the crowds coming home. So, off I trundled, this time on the Sky Train – basically, the tube. Cool name though. And then, a short walk back to the hotel. 8pm on a Sunday night – most of the shops were just shutting up...

Bedtime. Lousy wireless signal means this won’t get uploaded tonight, I’ll try in the morning when I have more patience, or maybe I’ll do it from reception. (My room is at the top, in a far corner, so is probably the furthest away from the router as can be got). Sleep tight.

Postcard from Oz...

emily_abroad — Mon, 3 Aug 2009 22:30:00 GMT

Once upon a time there was a girl. She was a mixed up, confused and confuddled little girl, quite a stubborn, independant thing, with a fierce survival instinct and a will to succeed, whatever the odds. (Sometimes she thought, she was just like the girl with the curl in the middle of her forehead; when she was good, she was very very good, and when she was bad, she was horrid. Except her curl was to the left of her forehead). :)

Anyhow, this girl had been through a rather torrid couple of years. Basically, it hadn't been good. And her survival instinct had come under threat. She had started to doubt herself, and the world around her. She didn't relate to it anymore and often she wondered why she was trying so hard to survive, the world didn't deserve the effort. But survive she did.

And then the straw that broke the camel's back, as it were. And she decided to run. Because there had to be some place in the world, where she could fit in, could get back in touch with herself and with life itself.

And like the tornado that swept Dorothy away to Oz, our heroine packed all her wordly goods away into storage, booked her ticket and flew to a land far far away. Her yellow brick road took her first to Bangkok, the wicked witch of the East, and onto Koh Phangan, Ananda and Detox, where the wise wizard foretold that all wicked influences could be 'let go' with the help of just a straw (or in our heroine's case, a magic rubber tube).

In her quest to find herself, our heroine realised that she had a brain, a heart and shed-loads of courage all along. She didn't need to find the Emerald City to get the answers, they were always there inside her.

And so, after her mini-adventure, she put on her magic slippers (supplied by the luxurious hotel suite), clicked her heels together three times, and uttered the magic words 'there's no place like home, there's no place like home, there's no place like home...' And of course, because this isn't MGM technicolour, she had to wait until next day to take the Jet Airways flight via Mumbai but give it 24 hours or so, and she would be home.

Or rather, Vanessa's home. Our heroine still needs to get one of her own, and a job to pay for it. But with renewed heart, brain and courage, there ain't no stopping her now!

Thank you for reading. Here endeth the blog. :) I'll be seeing you all very soon, a little earlier than planned. But, to (badly) paraphrase Harry from the end of when Harry met Sally; when you realise what you want in the future, you run to make sure your future can start as soon as possible.

Postcard from Chiang Mai...

emily_abroad — Mon, 3 Aug 2009 22:00:00 GMT

Actually, as so often happens with real postcards, this one isn't being written from Chiang Mai, but instead from a rather luxurious suite on the 52nd floor of a hotel in Bangkok. Yes, I seem to be back in Bangkok but this time only a pit-stop. And, a luxurious, pampered one at that. But that's for a different postcard. This one's about Chiang Mai.

So, I arrived in Chiang Mai on Wednesday evening. Took a taxi direct to the hotel I had been recommended and thankfully they had room. Oh, it seemed so lovely in comparison to Ananda! A huge bed, an actual duvet (oh, to not have just a simple sheet, it was sooo amazing!), air conditioning, TV, lovely oak wood furniture. The hotel, Awana House, was very sweet, everything seemed good.

Thursday, I decided to explore. I walked around a bit, batting off the tut tut drivers and those who wanted to know where I was from, and stumbled across a Wat or two to wander around. After a while, it got boring though, and the heat was intense. So, I took a tut tut to the local market, recommended by the hotel. The tut tut experience was far more positive than Bangkok, less fumes in your face, nicer scenery. But the market?! Not full of lovely Thai artetacts as I had hoped, but instead, cheap clothes, flowers, and the scent of meat and fish left out in the sun too long... Not what I wanted. So, another tut tut. This time to the mall. I don't know, once a mall rat, always a mall rat?! I felt far more at home, air conditioning, name brands, and ummm, a cinema! The afternoon was spent pleasurably watching Public Enemies and admiring the wonderful Johnny Depp! :)

But it kind of confirmed what I had been thinking... I am not cut out for this travelling lark. I am a tourist, not a traveller. I like my comforts and I don't like to rough it. And, left to my own devices, I will prefer to spend time in a place that reminds me of home (e.g. the mall) rather than tenaciously exploring the local vicinity...

So, that evening, plans were made...

Friday I took it easy. And I'm glad I did, as mid-morning a knock at my door brought Karen (from detox) into my holiday. It was nice to spend some time with someone else, not be by myself all the time. Friday night we went to the night market together; I probably went a little overboard, but was quite restrained by my normal standards!!!

Saturday was thai cooking class. Excellent! Since I came here (and have been able to eat!) I've fallen in love with Phad Thai, and now I know how to cook it!! It takes 5 mins and is my new comfort food, containing rice noodles, no wheat! And tofu, and bean sprouts and veggies, and very healthy! I can also cook a 3 course meal of spring rolls, green curry and sticky coconut rice with mango. I think my guests will be very impressed... That is, when I have a kitchen of my own to cook in!

Sunday was elephants. Or, it was supposed to be elephants all day, and instead was elephants for half a day. I don't know exactly what it was, but somehow I didn't want to be there. So, I came back. The problem started on the way to see the elephants. We were walking through the rice paddy fields, and the path was very narrow, sometimes helped out by some bamboo (which made your ankles twist), or a plank of wood. It was when we came to a thin plank of wood that looked very fragile, taking us across a large dip with a foot or so of water beneath. I stepped on. And then I couldn't step forward. And I couldn't move back. This has never happened to me before, but I am evidently turning into my mother (Mum, I love you!) and developing vertigo of some sort. Starting to panic, I didn't know what to do. I simply couldn't move. Eventually, of course, help arrived and I negotiated the 'bridge' and the rest of the 'trek' to the elephants...

But my state of mind had become undone.. and the first thing I see in an undone state of mind... the elephants were chained around one leg. And only one of them had both tusks intact. I found it very distressing. The elephants only remained chained whilst we were 'feeding' them with bananas and sugar cane, and it was explained to me that before the elephants had come here they had been mistreated and the ivory stolen, or the elephants themselves had lost their tusks in an accident. But, to me, I just felt badly. Whilst we, as tourists, were providing the money to care for these elephants, and apparently 70% of what we paid went directly to the elephants, I couldn't get it out of my mind that the elephants were akin to circus animals, here to entertain the tourists. And it didn't seem right. It was more right than previously when the elephants in Thailand were made to be work horses or mules, carrying the stones that made the temples that adorn the country everywhere (even Buddhism has its ugly side!) but it still didn't seem right. The elephants should be able to roam free.

So, with this in my head, playing my role of happy tourist wasn't going to happen! I had thought the day was more about feeding/bathing and caring for the elephants but it appeared it was more about riding them... And to get on, you had to grab hold of the poor thing's ear. And once on, take a long stick with a hook at the end, and jab the thing at the top of its ear and in its head. No, this wasn't going to happen! I did get on. But after that, I was determined not to get on again, not to ride, and to go home. So I did.

Sunday night was another night market - but far better than the bigger nightly one, this one was once a week (on a Sunday strangely enough!) and lots of more wide-ranging, better quality fare for sale. And for dinner, we went to one of the more expensive resorts for a civilised dinner. It was delicious, not too expensive, and quite strange to eat without the sound of traffic in the background!

Today, I came to Bangkok.

I liked Chiang Mai. It's a nicer city than Bangkok, more manageable, cleaner. But I doubt I'll be back.

Gallery: Photos

emily_abroad — Tue, 28 Jul 2009 23:20:00 GMT

Postcard from Detox....

emily_abroad — Tue, 28 Jul 2009 20:00:00 GMT

Wow! It has been an incredibly turbulent week and a bit... Ups, downs, in’s, out’s... It’s been emotional baby!

The detox itself – I lost 6.6kgs!!!!!!!! In ordinary English that’s a stone! Not that you’d really notice much, there is still soooo much more to lose!! But its a start, and I’ve lost inches around my tummy, hips, thighs and everywhere else that I took measurements. I definitely feel less swollen!

The not eating – that was relatively easy. There was only one day when I felt weak and I was in a ‘downward dog’ position doing the sun salutations at yoga at the time... I would feel a little hungry at night but nothing that couldn’t be ignored... The shakes were yuk but they kept you full even though they had no nutrition in them (just psyillium husk and bentonite which in plain language is fibre and a clay to pull out toxins). The nutrition came from the herbal pills. Treats during the day were carrot juice for lunch, coconut water for tea, and plain broth for dinner!!! And of course, the daily Thai massage and sauna. And as we were allowed ginger tea, it became a ginger cookie for a real treat!

No, what was hard, yet vitally important, and immensely, hugely fabulous, was the emotional detox which accompanied the physical. I can breathe. I feel happy. There is no undercurrent of fear, sadness, panic, self-pity. I simply feel happy. I can’t remember when I last felt this way. This is huge. The detox has achieved what months of therapy have totally failed to do. Clear my head.

(For those of you reading the ‘other site’ you can read my blog on the trials and tribulations of day one. It got better.)

All the uncertainty about what I was going to go – still there, but less so. I am definitely coming home. To stay. I’m a Londoner and I love my city and I want to live in my city, not travel aimlessly around. I’ll get myself a small flat, live more simply, and look for work. (Liz, if you’re reading this, I will come knocking for a long talk soon after I’m back!)

I’ve made some good friends here, we bonded over the shakes and what I will simply call the ‘straw action’... I hope we stay in touch.

Mostly we’ve been prisoners in the compound, tied to a timetable which involved doing something every 1.5hours. I started on some yoga and the stretching is good. I’ll try to keep it up when I’m back. Well, I do have a wii....! Sunday, four of us escaped to Thong Sala for some retail therapy which was a nice break, and today, Christa and I took the opportunity of our last day to go snorkelling. The drive through the island, into the hills and the jungle of palm trees was beautiful, breath-taking. After some fussing with the snorkelling equipment and the fact that I’m really not at all comfortable in water, I got used to it, and it was immense fun. And then into Thong Sala again for FOOD!!!!! I am having strange guilt pangs over going off-piste from the daily menu and have a barbecued corn on the cob. But it was sooooo delicious! And it had SALT on it!!! Soooo good to taste again! But I did walk on by the barbecued chicken, as I shouldn’t eat meat for another two days. (We have to build up our digestion again slowly). I also had a delicious fruit shake which had something called dragon fruit in it, a strange white flesh with black specks.

Tonight is a last dinner. The first dinner we can eat together. Vegetable soup. But it’ll be extremely good, the food here is all so good. And its simply just so good to be able to eat again!

Boat back to Koh Samui in the morning. Flight to Chiang Mai and I arrive in the evening. Haven’t booked my hotel, but am hoping the one that’s been recommended to me has space and will just see when I get there.

Thank you all for reading, your comments are lovely to read, reminding me that my friends are out there. I miss you all, and I’ll be back very soon. To stay.

Postcard from Koh Phangan...

emily_abroad — Sun, 19 Jul 2009 21:15:00 GMT

Well, Koh Phangan is MUCH more like it... Beautiful beaches, scenic postcard views everywhere. And its hot! Well, it keeps raining torrentially, but not today. And of course, mosquito spray doesn't work, using the plug-in mosquito repellent in the room doesn't work, and the mosquito repellent wrist bands - they mean that you actually get bitten around your wrists and ankles! But, all that aside, it's beautiful and I am starting to unwind. Slowly.

I had to move today though - one more night without air conditioning was not going to cut it for this girl! That and the fact there were snakes and lizards in the other rooms! Not sure I'm cut out for the 'roughing it' kind of travel. I always have appreciated the finer thigns in life, and I don't think that's going to change overnight. Especially when a little bit of comfort costs just an extra £100 for 10 nights... I mean, that's a good meal, a bottle of chablis and a taxi home in London... :)

Its been a bit dull the last couple of days, not a lot to do, and whilst doing nothing is usually my forte, that usually also includes loads of TV... But the next 7 days look like they'll be quite packed. 7.30am drink a shake, 9am take some pills, 9.15am, you don't want to know, 10.30am drink another shake, noon, more pills, 12.15pm have a massage (yay!), 1.30pm another shake, 3pm pills, and sauna, 4pm yoga, 4.30pm nip out of yoga for another shake, 6pm herbs, 6.15pm, again you don't want to know, 7.30pm another shake, 9pm mnore pills.... It's like some kind of military operation!

I'm in two minds about the detox. It really needs to be done, I've felt so sluggish and tired and almost ill for so long, my body needs a break. Just from a practical perspective, the detox will be great to break the carb addiction, lose a few much needed pounds, and kick start healthier living. I want my body back. The one I worked so hard to get a couple of years ago, and I liked it when I had it.

The thing is, the detox is also an emotional cleanse as well. And as the fatter body is inextricably linked (in my head at least) to the emotional crap, the next few days could be ugly. I'm already feeling lonesome, home sick and vulnerable, detoxing is only going to exacerbate those feelings. A really really special person says its very important to 'poo out' all the crap inside... LOL! That is exactly what I'll be doing, both figuratively, and ummm, literally.... So, after the 7 days, hopefully I will feel healthier, lost a few pounds and purged some of the crap inside...

Postcard from Bangkok...

emily_abroad — Thu, 16 Jul 2009 17:30:00 GMT

FFS I have been writing this one for ages. And the internet ether has stolen it! Which, just goes to show, what kind of crap Bangkok is!

The story went something like this...

This one could have been called 'kidnapped in Bangkok' or 'I fricking hate Bangkok, get me out of here!'.

Yesterday I was too jet-lagged to do anything except sleep, but went for a mooch, pointed at a menu and said 'choose' and got pad thai which was nice. Later I had a lovely Italian meal, probably the best ever, but if an Italian meal is my highlight, why am I not in Italy?

Today, I got up to do the tourist thing. Early. Discovered I had been bitten twice. Well, on my calf and on my elbow, but more accurately at least 10 times in clusters. Mosquitoes and me are not a happy combination (well, they probably are!) The zappy thing is NOT working, nor is the cream. I had the Asian breakfast. Potato-y gloopy stuff. With ginger. NOT GOOD!

Got a taxi. Wanted to go to Wat Pho and the Grand Palace. That was the plan, I like plans. Allowed myself to get stiffed by the taxi by not insisting on the meter, but £6 seemed like a fair deal - would have been £20 in London. At least. We get to Wat Pho. But I'm not allowed in. A man in a uniform tells me the monks are praying and the Royal family is visiting. I know this is a scam. The guidebook says so. But he doesn't let me in, and he doesn't let me walk down the street to a different entrance. Instead he insists I get in a tut tut and the man will show me various other wats (temples) for 50baht. So, I reckon OK, I should do the tut tut thing and that's a deal (£1).

And then the worst 2 hours begins. Driving in a tut tut is NOT fun. Hot wind in your face. The smell of the fumes in your mouth. We did first go to a wat where another man told me I had a lot in common with the Buddha. We're both fat. Lovely. Just what I needed to hear when panic was rising up inside me. Roll on detox. And then the tut tut man wanted to take me shopping. When I walked in and promptly walked out of a tailor's he was visibly not happy. (I could have been measured for a cashmere suit for £40 but what would I want with one of those?!). It seems that he gets petrol coupons from the stores if I stay a while.. So, I played along for him at two more stores. Just seemed easier, I was his prisoner. At one, I must admit, I bought a couple of cheap rings but I am a shopaholic at heart. I firmly insisted after that that he return me to the Grand Palace which he did in a sulk.

So, actually, he got me back to Wat Pho. Which is beautiful, lovely, amazing colourful architecture. Lost on me in my mood. It felt like a sauna outside, I was tired, thirsty and hungry. And I'd left my camera at the hotel. I made my way to the massage place, it's supposed to be the best place to get the traditional Thai massage, and that 1hour respite was nice if painful. I am now truly ironed out. And bruised. Again. But after, I just wanted to go home. I ate at a street stall (so might die of food poisoning, but it tasted good) and then got a taxi home. On the meter.

Bangkok might have some amazing sights. But I won't be seeing them. I've had enough of the place. I think when I return for my flight home, I shall time it so I just connect at the airport. Tonight I will go back to the Italian restaurant - the aubergine mozarella bake was to die for.

Early flight tomorrow. The beach beckons.

Bangkok, RIP.

Postcard from KL...

emily_abroad — Tue, 14 Jul 2009 23:35:00 GMT

I was going to call this one 'bruised in KL' but thought that might make some readers smirk and others worry... But I can report I've just had the MOST wonderful massage at KL airport. Well, a girl's got to keep herself amused somehow when there are 5 hours to kill, hasn't she?!

The flight to KL passed without incident. The car got me to the airport. I explained to the nice man that the car just has a mind of its own sometimes, not to panic and to jiggle it around until it behaves sometimes... Set my watch to Thai time as soon as I got on the plane. Dinner was therefore at 9pm and bedtime after watching 'He's just not that into you' (great wallpaper btw) was at 10pm with a sleeping pill. Should have taken 2 as it only gave me about 4hours sleep but I did snooze after that, and also watched Duplicity. Which did not have enough of Clive Owen without his top off. Or not at all even. But still, nice to look at.

I can also report that, despite being assured by a certain someone that the hostesses on the flight would be drop-dead gorgeous, they were not. Alright, they were beauties in comparison to BA, but I think I'd have to travel Singapore Airlines to get the real deal! ;)

Since my luggage is probably already in Bangkok and I didn't have to pick it up here, or go through customs, or anything, I really should have got the connecting flight that didn't have the five hour wait... There's not a lot of shopping here - unless you've the budget for Lacoste, Coach and Mont Blanc... The massage and foot reflexology was a lovely waste of time though and I do feel refreshed. It might have hurt like hell, but nothing that feels good in life comes easy...

Boarding for Bangkok soon... Can't wait for that hotel bed, take it easy today, tourism will start in earnest tomorrow...

Love to all, miss you already

xxx

Minus 3 days...

emily_abroad — Sat, 11 Jul 2009 10:30:00 GMT

Minus 3 days to my flight to Thailand... My life is packed into a 75 square foot storage locker in Hammersmith (and it is FULL!) and a 70 litre backpack (which isn’t absolutely full and weighs 17.2kg – feels like 117 though!)... Limbo right now. Sitting at Tinto’s coffee on the Fulham Palace Road, feeling a bit chilly as it’s not quite warm enough anymore to be wearing no jacket... Waiting. Waiting to hear what is happening to the latest in the car saga, waiting to get the car back so I can drive to the events I have planned for the weekend. Waiting to hear from my IFA re. my new life policies. Waiting for my flat to be professionally cleaned. There is nothing else to do, no place else to go. (Well, I could go back to Van’s flat but not until the waiting is sorted out...) Limbo. I don’t know how I feel. I don’t know why I’m going, but I don’t have a reason to stay. From a practical perspective it’s a no-brainer. Much cheaper and more sensible to travel in cheap countries, gaining new experiences and memories than to pay exorbitant rents in London whilst not working. And I always wanted to travel, I was going to do it after uni and took the job at NatWest because it paid more than McDonalds. But then I got caught up in career, love and marriage. So, now seems like a good time to do it, no ties, got some cash. Am I running away? The career has dried up, I’ve had enough of what I was doing and I don’t know what I want to do next. Life seems mundane, pointless, futile. You wake up, you struggle through the day, sometimes you laugh, sometimes you cry, but everything stays the same. So, a change is good. One of my favourite songs, Bittersweet Symphony says it best. So, take a break, recharge the batteries, get a different perspective. Seems like a plan. Am I running towards something? Will I find my destiny? I don’t know. Does it matter? Time will tell...