Disturbing Practicality

Something has been troubling me lately.

I’ve seen a seismic shift in my attitude towards practical clothing. Usually, sequined heels, short dresses and impractical skirts leave me a wanton woman, eagerly whoring around my debit card from shop to shop.

However, lately I have become disturbingly sensible in my choices of clothing. For example, I have recently frequented the Mountain Warehouse to purchase zip off cargo pants in a lightweight, breathable, quick drying material (to make them seem more cool, I’m calling them adventure pants).

Pre-Holiday Failure

It is the week before I head off for a Moroccan adventure with the man, and alas, all good intentions of No-Spend-September and Slim-tober have completely and utterly failed. So I embark on a last minute campaign to flatten my tummy before I have to be wear a bikini.

I truly and honestly had every good intention of behaving myself the past few months, however temptation in the form of booze (both paid and free), food and staying indoors has just been far too strong for me.

Flying

When you live in Australia, going on holidays logistically requires you to get on a plane and travel for many, many hours.

The flight to London involves two legs of 7 and 13 hours respectively and a couple of hours layover in Singapore.

That equates to roughly 24 hours of pure and utter hell. Ears popping, sitting next to large people, unable to sleep, with indigestion from the airplane food and children screaming. And turbulence. And children screaming. And more turbulence.

It’s bad enough that your holiday has to end.  Saying goodbye to people that you love and not knowing if or when you’ll see them again is one of the hardest things in the entire world. And then after that emotional rollercoaster you have to get in a metal tube with 250 other people and sit in one foot of space for hours. And hours. And hours.

Arriving home should be a blessing, then BAM! Jetlag hits with a vengeance.. you get dizzy, and wake up disoriented with no idea where the hell you are.. clutching the bed beside you wondering why you are alone and not in bed with a sexy Yorkshireman.  If I didn’t love exploring the world so much I’d happily never ever get on a plane again. In fact, if I could get a train to London I would.

But alas, until I have perfected the art of teleporting I’m stuck with the giant metal bird in the sky.

An Affair To Remember (part one)

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single lady on holidays in another country, will inevitably have a fling.

There is something about the combination of cocktails, being away from home and a “Woo! Holidays!” attitude that means that any man of a certain age, who is reasonably attractive, automatically becomes an interesting prospect.

And so, on my second night of my London homecoming I took a fancy to my good friends housemate.  One thing led to another and before I knew it we were snogging on the dance floor. Which then turned into a weekend of some serious fun.  

What was surprising however, was that this casual flirtation turned into something more.

Regular readers will know about my rather unsuccessful love life, and that it is not often that I meet someone with whom I instantly feel comfortable. But with this boy (or rather, man) I did. He made me comfortable. He made me feel slightly weak at the knees every time he kissed me.

But I didn’t think much of it at first.  I was after all on holidays and it was my first weekend in the country. 

So we said our farewells, but as soon as I left and got on the train for my next destination I knew that I absolutely had to see him again. And that, dear readers, is when it got interesting. 

Happy New Year

Well I’ve been off-air for the past month, off gallivanting around the world catching up with old friends in London.

Over the next few days I’ll be updating with drabbles from my notebook that I wrote (with an actual pen).

And yesterday, my vacation came to an end. This fills me with sadness on a few levels, which after future posts you will understand why.

So jetlagged, at 5.00am on the 1st of January, 2011 I lay in my own bed, wondering what this year will bring and trying to come up with some new years resolutions.

But maybe, all that can wait until Tuesday when I’m back at work (groan!) and for now I will continue unpacking, catching up with my emails and maybe finding a friend who’s not hung over to go have a drink with.

Happy New Year!

The grass is greener?

On Tuesday I’m off to the my favourite city in the world. But it’s not without some trepidation.

A couple of sleepless nights have got me thinking about whether or not the grass is always greener.

Do I love the place so much for what it was two years ago.. or do I love the place for what it is?  What if I get there and it’s nowhere near as awesome as I remember?

The three years I lived there were pretty jam packed, with some of the biggest highs and lows of my life.  It was the place I first fell in love, the place where I first had a friend die. The place where I first had a group of friends of my very own, and the place where I had my very first heartbreak.  Events like these put pretty fixed memories and impressions about places in your mind.

Part of me hopes that this trip gets the place out of my system for awhile, so I can commit to settling at home in Australia for awhile.  Another part of me hopes that by going back to the place where things started, I’ll finally get some closure from baggage I just can’t seem to shake.

As usual I have over thought things and placed great expectations on this trip.  For once though, I know I’m not setting myself up for disappointment.  Because in London are some of the things I love the most – shops, men (with accents), booze, history and some of my very best friends. 

It’s hard not to love somewhere that has all those things, even amidst a tube strike in summer.

See you on Wednesday London x

Excited Much?

Ever since I was a little girl I have been prone to excitement.  I'm not sure whether it is because I'm an only child and my birthday is at the end of the year.. but I look forward to things with a joyful passion not seen since man discovered that if you let grapes fester long enough you get a delicious inhibition lifting drink. 


And so, as I sit at my desk before work on this sunny October morning I can barely contain myself as I think about the upcoming months. 


In 18 Sleeps I'm going to a 5 star resort for a day in the swim-up pool bar
In 21 Sleeps I turn 27, and that means presents and cake
In 30 Sleeps I get to go and see Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 1
In 43 Sleeps I fly to London to see my darling friends, shop and drink
In 60 Sleeps I fly to Morocco for a little side trip to the exotic. 


Seriously, I only have 30 days of work left for the year, 2 of which are our AGM so that's only 28 actual work days left! How am I supposed to buckle down and be productive when I can almost smell the London air and feel the black snot up my nose from the tube? 


But I must control my urge to go and dance on the morning tea table and shouting "I'm going on holidays!" and behave in a professional like manner until AT least 2 more sleeps until my holiday.  


Then I think I am allowed to act silly. Hooray!

A Magical Adventure

I have decided on my next holiday location (after my festive extravaganza in London of course).

I will be heading to Orlando, Florida. Why? You may ask.

For one reason only.

I will be travelling to Orlando purely to visit the all-new, magical Wizarding World of Harry Potter at Universal Studios.

I care not that I may be too old, or that it is geeky. But as a dedicated fan of the series I can think of nothing more enjoyable than drinking Butterbeer at the Hogs Head, buying a wand in Olivanders or strolling through the hallways of Hogwarts. I am not alone either, thousands upon thousands of people lined up for the recent opening days of the park, waiting in line for up to 8 hours just to get in. Many of them are fans like myself, who have been enthusiasts since the very first book.

So for my overseas adventure in 2012, I’ll be jetting to Orlando – because quite frankly, between you and me I solemnly swear that a rollercoaster is the most fun a girl can have without boys and booze.

The Perfect Holiday Romance

Whilst lying on my tummy half stuck under my bed looking for a missing sock (pink, hand knitted and still MIA) I found a long forgotten box of treasures that I lovingly placed under there for safe keeping.

Dusting off the dust and mould (I live in a humid climate, with wood floors.. mould is inevitable) I saw that it was a box of travel goodies. Bits and pieces of basic rubbish that I have collected on my travels.  Ignoring the sealed bag of mementos from The Ex I picked up my diary from my very first overseas trip.

What a joy it was to read the thoughts of my 20 year old self, so eager, naive and if I recall correctly, so beautifully thin!

Much of the diary focuses on my holiday romance, in fact one of those ultimate holiday romances.  As a graduation present from my father I went on a 35 day camping Contiki tour of Europe when I was fresh out of University.

There’s a lot I do and don’t remember about that trip. I remember drinking alot, seeing beautiful things and every day being overwhelmed by the beauty before me.

One thing that stands out is a 24 year old Brisbane local whom I shall call Ben (to be honest his name was in fact Ben, but the fact that I have not spoken to him for nearly 7 years and that I can’t recall his last name should protect his anonymity). We met in a beachside camping ground in Barcelona, again on the French Riviera, through the streets of Florence and for two magical nights in Rome.

I was completely smitten by him. He was handsome by Brad Pitt proportions (and I’m talking Brad Pitt in 2004, pre-Jolie), tall and dark and knew how to schmooze a woman.

In Rome, Bella Roma, a city I had dreamed about visiting since my first viewing of Roman Holiday when I was 12, a gorgeous boy told me that “.. I’ve seen you walking around the streets all day and all I wanted to do was this…” before scooping me in his arms and snogging me senseless before tucking me into bed kissing my forehead and saying “Good Night My Beautiful Girl” in Italian.

Seriously. Wow. That was last time I saw Ben, until one fateful day later that year after I returned home.  I was walking out of a shop in Queen St Mall in Brisbane and ran into someone, I looked up and it was him.

Fate! I thought. No – just an incredible coincidence.  So tonight I’m glad I went looking for that sock, because that was a lovely memory I haven’t daydreamed about in awhile.  A memory that reminds me that perhaps, sometimes, fairytales aren’t just in storybooks. 

Simple Pleasures

Simple things are putting a massive smile on my face lately.  And this weekend was a weekend of simple pleasures. 

Some childish fun with ice skating and happy meals.  An afternoon spent chilling by the pool with good company. A night out dancing, drinking and flirting with good friends. A day recovering with some laughs and some fried food.  A text message from a boy I fancy. 

Topped off with an english muffin smothered in peanut butter. 

Life does not get much better than this really! 2010 = A good year!

Underneath The Christmas Tree

As I have been completing the last drabbles of Christmas shopping and starting Dad’s I have found it frustrating because I keep seeing things I want for me. So for you information, this year underneath the Christmas tree I hope I find…

• The Ultimate Edition Wizard Of Oz Anniversary Edition DVD Box
• The Ultimate Harry Potter & The Philosophers Stone DVD Box
• Ditto for Chamber of Secrets
• 1001 Children’s Books You Must Read Before You Die and about a zillion other books
• A first edition Pride & Prejudice
• A solution to the Global Financial Crisis
• A high paying communications/marketing job in London/New York or Brisvegas
• A plane ticket to London (Preferably First Class)
• A microwave egg poacher
• A crystal decanter
• A variety of awesome homewares etc I keep seeing
• Lots of lovely expensive skin care products
• A new iPod.. mine which I got secondhand is just about dead

After all Santa, I have been very good this year. Depending on your definition of “good”.

Homesick For A Winter’s Christmas

I find it very bizarre that I can be feeling homesick for a place when I am currently living in the place I grew up.

I’ve mentioned before how much London feels like home to me, and now at Christmastime I am feeling the pang of longing for Old Blighty. 

There is something magical about London at Christmastime. Especially coming from a hot climate, finally having a cold Christmas was like something out of a fairytale.

Chestnuts really DO roast on open fires (well on BBQ style things on Oxford Street).  You can sing “I’m dreaming of a white Christmas” and there is the small chance that perhaps, just maybe, it might be.  The weather outside is frightful and the fires are delightful (as opposed to here, where the weather outside is frightful and the Air-Con is so delightful).

I’m missing the twinkly lights on Oxford and Regent Streets, the store fronts of Selfridges & Debenhams lit up, Hammersmith Square’s Christmas tree and the German sausage hut.  I’m missing mulled wine, ice-skating at Kew Gardens, hot chocolate, seeing Santa land at Covent Garden.  And I’m sorry Myers and David Jones, but the Harrods Christmas Store shits all over you both.  Then sneezes on you. 

But most of all, I am missing the people that make London feel like home. And no, not the charity muggers & London Lite wankers outside Hammersmith Station.  I miss my London family, my pub boys, and some of my very best friends. Who despite the distance and time apart are still as good a friends as back on October 2008. 

Wish I could say the same about everyone on the Sunshine Coast.

Bundy Night Out

Bundaberg. Rum Capital of Australia and home of… well not much else.

I am so glad that I don’t live in a country town like that.  I’m quite sure that I would go insane.  I mean, it was a Sunday and the main street was DEAD. Absolutely dead. And the heat, well it gave me an indication of what the poor turkey must feel like roasting at Christmas time.

One thing it does have though is some brilliant pubs and men galore.  If there is one thing I love more than anything, is a night out in a busy pub with some awesome music, dancing the night away. Which Smash and I did with great enthusiasm.

Our final destination for the evening was the Central Hotel, which had a massive beer garden and a very talented guitarist performing. Not only was he talented but so extremely attractive that every time he looked at me I thought I was going to orgasm. Every women on that dance floor was ignoring the (also extremely attractive) other men that were vying for attention.. all eyes were on this guitar player. Big muscly arms with tattoos, hair up in a beanie, twinkly eyes a cheeky smile.. the only thing that would have made him sexier would have been a Scottish accent.

There is just something about a man who is musical.  In fact, a man who has any sort of skill, cooking, building, singing, comediennes, any sort of musical ability, turns me on. 

All in all, would go back to Bundy purely to see that guitarist play.. but that is probably the only draw card. 

It’s nice to be home.

A Women Only Holiday? No Thanks, I’m Busy Washing My Hair

Those of who you who have known me for awhile will know that I am not one for feminism.  I am a bit old fashioned like that, probably because of the way I was brought up.

When I was waiting for my perpetually late friend on the weekend I was reading the newspaper, and came across an article about a big fuss being made because a lady was trying to start a company for “women only holidays” and the government found them discriminatory.

My first thought was why on earth would any woman want to go on a woman only holiday?? That is my idea of a nightmare, just as I despise a “Girls Nights Out”.  When I go on holiday I want to look pretty, and hopefully have a holiday fling, or at least flirt shamelessly with other people on my tour/in my hotel/my waiter/bartender etc.  I want to lounge by the pool/on the beach and look at attractive men.  Or sit in a delicious cafe/bar if it is a cold location, and look at attractive men. 

But that is not really the issue today.  The issue is women getting on their high horse again. The article then went on to say how horrible “Gentleman’s Clubs” are with their exclusivity and they are degrading to women.  I object.  The men in these clubs most likely have a high appreciation for the female form, and are not just exclusive against women, they also don’t let in bogans or poor people, so get over it.  I think they are a grand old tradition, and I’d rather we keep our old traditions alive and be a bit sexist than let them die out. Many a grand idea was thought of in a dark leather and smoke filled room over a brandy.

Feminism has just, for me, gone that one little step too far.  There are some jobs that women cannot physically do (unless you are a butch lesbian like country girl).  There are some jobs that men’s minds are more suited to.  And quite frankly, a woman was created to be a companion for the male species and procreate.

Just think about when divorce rates started really picking up.. oh yeah, when more and more women left their place in the home and started being career oriented.  I’m not saying “stay at home”, by all means go out and be a CEO.  But I have gone off topic and that is a story for another day, we were talking about all-women holidays.

This is how I imagine it: An endless stream of “What are you wearing?” “My ex-husband bla bla bla” “Ooh I love your outfit (subtext.. LOL, you look like a hippopotamus and I look fabulous! Woohoo!) “Your eating that? Do you know how many calories are in that baked potato smothered in sour cream?”. I like the company of my close female friends, but usually one at a time, or at the most a group of 3. Any more than that and I start craving the company of a penis. 

“Feminists? Equal pay is fine, but would it kill you to put on some lipstick?” Kitty Foreman – That 70’s Show.

Turkish Delight - A Posthumus Travel Blog

MAY 2008

Well it’s been a long time since my last email… mainly because haven’t had all that much to write home about! It’s been a good 2 years since I left the Sunshine Coast to broaden my horizons, and I’m sure half of you have forgotten all about me by now! But needless to say I miss you all and will hopefully be seeing you soon.

But had a busy few weeks… spend the month of May with my housemates mending my broken heart, quite a few drunken antics such as ending up in Brighton on the way to the Shepherds Bush Walkie, and a wild weekend down in Newquay (In Cornwall) playing hard with the best housemates I could ask for…

But the past week I spent basking in the sunshine in the glorious country of Turkey! (Are you all jealous yet?)

Landed in Istanbul tired and feeling less than pleasant (having gone straight from the pub to the airport at 3am – bad move, and as I can see Ma shaking her head now will stop talking about this) but was ready for lots of adventures!

Met up with my tour group who are all fantastic people... except for Eeyup.. our thoroughly incompetent tour guide- Thank heavens for Lonely Planet! But at least he provided us with many hours of entertainment.

Saw some amazing sights, Blue Mosque, Hagia Sophia, Shihash Café’s, and a particularly delightful kebab in Istanbul. Topkapi palace was a very dull two hours, but did provide amazing views of the Bosphorous (The body of water connecting Europe and Asia). Basically all Istanbul was missing was a giant saying saying “YOU ARE NOW LEAVING EUROPE” “WELCOME TO ASIA”

Day 3 found us on the long bus ride to Galipoli, which was an incredibly moving experience. I was astounded to see how small the beach actually was, and it baffled me how thousands of troups (and Aussie tourists on Anzac day) fitted there. You can still walk through the trenches, and at one point the stretch separating the Turkish & ANZAC front was less than 2 metres. It really brought home what a senseless waste of life it all was.


Day 4 saw us going to Troy (one of the most boring sights we visited) but we did get to climb up into the Replica wooden horse... which anybody who knows me, will know that I enjoyed immensely. Pergamum however was my favourite ruins.. there were no tourists there and was quite well preserved

The ancient city of Ephesus was next on the agenda. One of the 7 Ancient Wonders of the World, it is now overflowing with old American & German tourists waddling over the marble rocks. This was our tour guides favourite place and he gave us lots of accurate information about it, for example. This is the first board game in the world (with a sign on it saying repainted 1956) and “Everybody in Ephesus was gay and the women didn’t wash” Good times. Here though what was interesting was the carved image of Nike - Goddess of Victory. In the image is very clearly the Nike "swoosh" - so not just a modern day marketing invention after all.


Pamukkale, the calcium pools on the side of the mountain were AMAZING. Having wanted to have swim in these for a long time, I was disappointed when Eeyup said we couldn’t swim in them, only to find when we got there every man , his dog and their beach balls swimming, wading and splashing in the stunning landscape. Not to be deterred I hitched up my skirt and jumped in. It was amazing and the water was really weird feeling.

Cappdocia is an amazing region, and the old volcanoes have shaped the landscape with fairy chimneys, and hidden houses all through the mountain. It was so much fun climbing through them, but after 2 days of looking at basically the same thing it did get a bit much. And in retrospect, they all look like giant penises.

A Traditional Turkish bath was something I had been looking forward to, and was not disappointed. It was amazing being scrubbed down by a big fat Turkish man in a room so steamy you couldn’t see in front of your.. then the foam massage, then the shampoo/head massage… WOW. I want a Turkish bath every day!

Belly dancing night was interesting. There was unlimited wine and therefore I don’t remember all that much, apart from challenging a Spanish lady to a dance off and then apparently I was running up and down the bus. Interesting.

Turkey is an amazing country, but I was shocked to see so many malnourished animals being used at tourist attractions. At one service station there was a zoo that had monkey’s, gazelles, a Zebra and a wolf in the tiniest, dirtiest cages with no water and no food. It made me feel sick to my stomach.

And my tour members and I have decided that putting massage chairs in service stations is a brilliant idea, and we should go into business.

And I don’t want to eat Doritos, kebabs or buffet for a very long time.

Overall opinion - Possibly my favourite country in all of Europe, apart from Croatia.