The Global Redhead

My Scholarship entry - A local encounter that changed my life

kooju — Sat, 10 Mar 2012 04:19:00 GMT

We had been stuck in the car for an hour trying to get into the little town of Totnes for late night Christmas shopping. The most frustrating part was the huge bus in front, completely obscuring the view ahead so that we had resort to moaning about imaginary situations as to why we were moving at a snails pace. The minute we arrived in the main street however, the annoyance of the wait had become worth it. Totnes was PACKED. The entire main road was closed off, allowing every street vendor imaginable to set up shop. We walked through the crowds with eyes wide, trying to visually drink in every sight possible. The stalls were stuffed with handmade and unusual art, gifts and wares; metal, wood, felt, jewellerry, silver, antiques, everything! In amongst these stalls, there were also a huge array of carts and tents offering food. All kinds of food. Amazing food that caused me to part with most of my money! My nose was abused by an onslaught of delicious scents. There were cakes, cheese, hog roasts, mulled wine, crepes, roasted chestnuts, soups, breads, olives and sweets. Winding in and out of the moving masses, it was divine to smell everything on offer. Not only were my eyes and nose experiencing sensory overload, my ears were also bombarded. There were street performers of all types dotted sparodically among the gazebos and crowds; Lone singers with their hats out, bands set up on the pavement with a couple of crackly amps, fire jugglers, morris dancers, actors and people playing all manner of instruments, to name but a few. There was even a man with dreadlocks, wearing a tophat and pushing an old cart full of mistletoe up the street. The sounds were coursing through my body and had my feet doing jigs in the street. The atmosphere was electric and I could feel the thick, spontaneous energy buzzing around me. Next week is the final Christmas bonanza in Totnes and I fully recommend it. I will be there again, just for the amazing evening out if nothing else!

My Little Costa Rican Adventure

kooju — Wed, 9 Mar 2011 23:13:00 GMT

So I am in Alajuela and the epic adventure that was Costa Rica is coming to an end. God it´s been good. I remember being sat on a bus coming from San Jose International Airport on the way to my hostel. It was dark, I couldn´t see much beyond the lights of the sprawling city, and there were still christmas lights and decorations up in the streets. I remember thinking ¨Crap, I packed too much¨ as I tried to haul my shit up the steps to my dorm room. The next day saw me on a shuttle bus to Monteverde. It was a good trip and the scenery was awesome as we climbed higher and higher into the mountain range. I arrived in the town center and managed to tell the taxi where I needed to go in very broken Spanish. Five minutes later, I was in the Butterfly Gardens being greated by the staff I would be working with for two months and it was great. I´ve met people on this trip who have seriously made impacts on me. I know you can say that about anyone you meet .... well, almost.... but some of these guys have been fantastic.

This country is totally awesome. The weather is about as mixed up as good old blighty, but there is more heat and more sunny days to count! The community up there was great, and there was usually something to occupy you in the evenings. My job was pretty fab too, taking people on tours and educating them in a fun way about butterflys, insects, other creepies and the environment. Also, the tips allowed me to do many of the fun touristy things in the area on my days off. I´ve been hiking in the Monteverde Cloud Forest Reserve, to a sloth sanctury, horseback riding through forest, field and mountain path, I´ve been flying around on the highest and longest zip lines of my life, to a snake center, to a frog garden, quadbiking, motorbiking, a coffee and sugar cane tour, a hummingbird garden, walking and plenty of amazing nights out!

There are a fair few people who wil stand out as being highlights of the trip.

* Quin - the loudest American I know. One of those people who lights up a place just by being there. This girl had tons of one liners and funny qoutes I found side-splitting! She showed me the ropes at the gardens, was always there to talk to, was open minded and fun, was generally up for nights out and could drink more than me! She may have tried to teach me about ´good beer´and she may have been jittery over creepy crawlies, and she may have moaned a lot over the lack of sex, but I wouldn´t have changed anything! She made my stay awesome, and I really hope to get a visit soon!

* Allan - What can I say. One of the best men I´ve ever met. Looked out for me, had ace nights out together, made my time in Costa Rica awesome. Going to miss him so much, more than I think I can handle.

* Fiona - I have litereally never met such a gross, disturbed, sick minded 18 year old German girl! What an utter blast! She was the biggest drama queen at the gardens and was always up for a laugh! I´m going to miss the model posing, the funny German stories and the jew/sex/baby-in-the-microwave jokes!

* Mauricio - The 17 year old boy trapped in a 37 year old mans body! Barrel of laughs, going to miss the bra pinging, arse slapping, playfights, piggy backs, porn talks, pranks and general debauchery this man caused!! So much fun, except when he was having a temper tantrum ;)

* Marta - hard working Costa Rican business lady with a great talent for cooking and a massive generous streak. The proper mamma of the clan.

* Jim - This is one of the biggest characters I´ve ever met!! My boss at the gardens, full of life, a crazy wicked streak, and a passion for conservation that more people in the world need to adopt.

* Sebastian - So I only knew this Ecuadorian man for a week but he was so crazy and so funny, it´s going to leave a mark! This dude also had the best t-shirts I´ve ever seen and one of those proper spanish accents, loved it!!

* Chris - We hung out with this fella for one night, but it was one of the most fun we had! He taught us some sick dance moves, drank all night with us and if I ever need my eyes sorting out, I´ll know who to call!

There are others, James (the beautiful boy from Chester), Julio (the gardener who I often went on bug hunts with), Arthur (the German guitarist from Hyproglow who was scared of our spiders, took 15mins to ask me to the bar and had so many awesome stories to share when we finally went out!), the two American girls I met in my first week who I shared a fab dinner and night out with, the group of hot German girls who me and Fiona played hilarious drinking games with, Frank (my horseback riding tour guide who I saw out several times and always danced with), Tiffany Towers (the ex porn star working in the bar), Juan (the sloth tour guide who let me hold Speedy and came out with us one night), Haner (the barista at the Comman Cup who always gave me the biggest slice of cake and bought me beers), Ken (the coffee shop owner who put on awesome live music jam nights and served a mean cup of coffee) and lots of others I have met briefly who all contributed to a fab experience.

After finishing at the gardens, and saying goodbye to friends I will surely see again, I´ve embarked on a little one-woman adventure to a few places in Costa Rica before I had to go home. The heat has been insane (it was 26deg at 5am the morning I got on the bus from Puntarenas to Quepos). I´ve been to many lovely beaches, a fab city and on some awesome day trips including an active volcano, a city zoo, general city sightseeing and a shopping spree! It´s been an experience for sure. So now I am going to sit on the balcony of the bar in my hostel, sipping on a cocktail and watching the sunset over the whole glittering central plains. Totally coming back to this little country.

Pura Vida. xxxxx

Motorbike Delight

kooju — Sun, 13 Feb 2011 11:30:00 GMT

"Hop on" he said, looking at me with cheeky eyes and flashing me that gorgeous grin. I smiled back and climbed warily on the back of the motorbike, well aware of a lack of helmets.

"Ok, but no fast stuff yeah?" I replied as I wrapped my arms around his body, feeling the muscles tense underneath the fabic of his top.

"Ok? Cool, hold tight!" he said as he began to twist the handle.

I felt the thunder of the engine resonate through my body. There was a jolt and then he took off and sped up the hill. I buried my face into the back of his neck and squeezed tight while simultaneously holding a scream in my throat and grinning from ear to ear. Rushing up the Costa Rican country lanes, over bumps and through puddles, the multicoloured buildings flashing past me in a blur of colourful streaks as the air roared through my ears. I squeezed tighter around his chest for fear of falling off the back, letting his wavy jet black hair muffle my delighted squeals. Finally, we came to a stop but I didn't want to let go.

Good times.

A travel book to read for sure.

kooju — Sun, 5 Dec 2010 20:57:00 GMT

It was cold. Well, when I say 'cold', I mean the air around me was cold. I walked down the high street in Newton Abbot drawing my coat closer around me in an effort to ward of the biting chill. My train doesn't leave for another hour so I decided to walk the short distance into town and see what the place has to offer.

Not alot.

Like usual.

But still I walk.

It starts to rain and I begin to walk closer to the buildings as though they will shelter me from the shower, throwing my hood over my head and stuffing my hands into my pockets. There is nothing worse then cold AND wet. Getting annoyed at the weather, I walk into a charity shop. I can't remember the name, but it smells like most charity shops do - sort of musky, 'grandparenty' and, strangely, spicey. Scanning the rows of old clothing and odd knick knacks, I come to the book section. I had just starting thinking that taking a book with me for the train journey wouldn't be a bad idea when suddenly it jumped out at me. There on the shelf, was a battered old copy of Zen And The Art Of Motorcylce Maintenance. The spine was scratched and scuffed. I picked it up, noticing the worn and crinkled cover, creases all over it, "This book will change the way you think and feel about your life" it read. It felt smooth in my hand, like the cover had been touched often in gentle thought. Thumbing through the pages, I saw that they were yellow with age bearing many folds in the corners where previous readers had marked their progress. There was no scrawled name inside, no notes written anywhere in the margins, but this was obviously a well read, well worn book. I read the publication date - 1974. Wow, this book was 35 years old, written at the same time as my car was first made! The pages smelt like only the pages in old books can smell, almost like 'attic' if you understand what I mean.

Buying the book wasn't a hard decision. It was marked at 20p, a total bargin and so I clutched my new find tight and took it to the till. The price suprised me a little, but then, I place great worth on the written world and so I suppose that is not an unusual reaction for me.

I was looking down at my new book as I walked outside, reading the reviews about it which were typed on the back. "Profoundly important - full of insights into our most perplexing contemporary dilemmas, intellectual entertainment of the highest order" New York Times. "The most exciting book I have read in years. It is challenging, exhilarating, dramatic and classic" Vogue. And they continued.

It wasn't untill I had walked a few yards that I realised it was still cold out. I stuffed the book into my back pocket, wrapped my coat around me again and strode in the direction of the train station. When I got there, I read the small screen at the entrance to check my timing. 33 minutes to wait yet. I found a bench, dumped my bag beside me, and drew the book out of my pocket as I sat. It already felt familiar and I relaxed into the uncomfortable wooden seat to begin.

It had me hooked from the first line and it wasn't untill my conscienceness was stirred by a crackled and automated callout from the tanoy that I stopped reading. "The train now approaching platform 1 is the.... 1.37 train to.... London Paddington". Scooping up my bag, book under my arm, I stood up and walked to the platform to catch my train.

If you ever come across this book. Give it a read.

Old Ladies, Headphones and a theory on grey hair.

kooju — Wed, 3 Nov 2010 16:55:00 GMT

She gave me the meanest stare I've had in a while. I smiled nervously and looked away, continuing my walk down the street, still feeling her gaze burn into the back of me like a stab from behind. The person in question was a small old lady, wrapped in around 2,000 blankets with a headscarf on and sat in a wheelchair. She was ancient and wearing the type of glasses where each lense looks like the bottom of a thick beer bottle, only serving to magnify her stare as it bored into me. I could tell what she was thinking - 'impertinent youth'. Now I can hardly be classed as a youth anymore, but I guess with my massive wooly hat, scruffy jeans, huge Skullcandy headphones and an over-the-shoulder satchel, she could have been mistaken. And afterall, anyone would have appeared young compared to her.....

It got me thinking though, when we reach that kind of age (if we do), and we look at people in their young years, how will we think of them? Will we long for those years back, mutter that youth is wasted on the young and complain that people take their health for granted? People advise that we should grow old gracefully, but to be honest, I don't think anyone does! So much emphasis is placed on looks and being youthful, that every single wrinkle and grey hair is attacked with about a million advertising campaigns and products to destroy it!

So there I was, walking as fast as possible away from this crazy old women in a wheelchair who was giving every young person a look to rival the type of harshness usually reserved for Victoria Beckham. I trundled along with Kelis's 'Acapella' bouncing around my head from the Skullcandy's and tried not to think too much about getting old. It's a scary thought for me - I'm not up for it at all.

On a brighter note, I'm feeding my travel bug again soon!!

The Travel Urge Hits Me Hard.

kooju — Tue, 28 Oct 2008 21:20:00 GMT

The walk to work usually gives me too much time to think about things. And today, I was thinking about the world.

I have a huge passion for travelling and have already clocked up a fair few countries on my travel tab. However, the journey bug has got to me again - this time I crave adventure. I was walking along to the intensely emotional track 'Silver' by Joolz Gianni looking out to sea and I was suddenly hit with an overwhelming sense of depression! I wanted to be out there, crossing the sea and having adventures.

It has been ages since I have truley travelled. Although the Netherlands and Honduras this spring were fantastic, they were feild trips and so I wasn't able to do many of the things I would have liked too. The last time I had a good sense of travel was in New Zealand with one of my most treasured friends, John. We explored as much of the South Island as we could in three weeks - which wasn't enough, but all we had. It was great, going where you wanted, finding places to stay the night and all that jazz. The previous trip to India and Australia has to top the 'adventure' charts for me so far. Being accosted by the locals, sharing dinner with real indian families in real indian slums, eating stuff I wouldn't recognise even if it still possesed it's leg's, having the car we were sat in almost rolled over by an angry mob of adolecent males and losing our expensive plane tickets to Oz in the middle of bustling Delhi was quite something! At the time, I spent a lot of time paranoid and/or terrorfied but looking back, it was the best time of my life! Australia was a complete blast and we had so much fun, especially in the backpackers lodges and hostals. I will never forget my time in Sydney.

So I am still walking, it's sunny but bitterly cold. Yet this is plesant. Another track comes on, and frustratingly it is about some people 'going home across the mountains'. So I fall into another state of longing. I think of the movie The Beach, and want something from that movie to be my own experience. It also doesn't help when I have plenty of friends who have done/are doing/will be doing travelling of an extensive nature. A friend from uni (another Jon) is currently in South America having a totally amazing time. Two other friends (Nick and Becky) have been living and working in Australia for a year now and show no signs of coming home! Another friend called Stacey (second name Johns!!), is in Africa doing all sorts of cool things with animals and game reserves. A good mate, Adam, has been on a globe trip that lasted him a year, my friend Jon (yes again) went to Japan not long ago and my sister has recently returned from Thailand. Also, I have just finished reading an awesome book about travel written by a friend who has so many amazing stories to tell (ANOTHER BLOODY JON!!).

So basically, their experiences are all rubbing salt into the wound. At this point I am feeling an incrediable urge to go home, dig my big hiking bag out and pack. Then just sod off.

Clear my bank account out and just fuck off, just like that.

But I don't, I go into work. I get home later after an uneventful ride on the bus and decide instead to vent my frustrations on FaceSpace. I don't want a 'holiday', I want to travel. See things.

I sink into the sofa at home, tucking into a Terry's Choc Orange bar while typing away here, wishing I was off on some sort of adventure - like the type people used to have when the edges of the maps weren't filled in, but were still blank spaces of wonder and intrigue. No flying either. I want to jump on and off trians, boats, buses and horse drawn carts and even hitchhike. Anything to get real experiences and a proper sense of distance and time. I've been saving up some money, just so I can do things like this. One day, when the pennies are sufficently stacked, I will get up and leave!

Perhaps I just need to latch on to a John/Jon and go with the ride, because they seem to have all the fun.

Bus Rides And A Passion For Writing

kooju — Mon, 15 Sep 2008 17:02:00 GMT

So when I travel on the bus on the way home from work (hey, it's better then clocking up the mileage on my vintage wheels!) I see people, places and incidents that always make me want to write something. Today I got to thinking about stereotypes and the cast's we all assume. There was this kid on the bus, he boarded at the Subways stop at the top of town and at first glances one might have been forgiven for muttering *chav* under one's breath. However, after a little observation while listening to the melodious voice of Seth Lakeman on my mp3, I dicovered that this lad was not as he seemed. For starters, under the baseball cap he had long hair - not something typically associated with the chav empire. Secondly, he had the sort of lovely, well kept facial hair usually seen on surfers/free spirits/hippies/indie boys. But thirdly, he had manners. He said hello to people, got up for the old, carried someones shopping and talked about his time in thiland. I was actually quite shocked! Under the facade of an evil chav was the soul of the kind of guy I would usually go for. Not to mention the long hair.
So it made me think, what sort of casts do we all place ourselves in? I choose freespirit/hippy for myself as I believe it best reflects my views and beliefs on life and to be honest, I love thai fisherman pants, tams, slouchy shoulder bags and hareem trousers.

What stereotypical 'slot' have you places yourself in?