universal traveller

Solis

2009-03-20T13:47:00.005Z

What is it about sunshine?

Its rays have worked their way into my psyche and are trying to fill all those half empty cups that the long winter has left lingering there.

A walk through the city at lunchtime is warming to this long frozen optimist's core, and the dowdy buildings of London almost wink at you, knowing that they are bathing in the golden hue of spring.

The season is something to behold, and our messy cares can be washed away, for a time, if we let them.

A pair of oysters and Kentish wine with Laura, a quick coffee on Fleet Street with Gel, a punch in the arm from one of my siblings. Any one of my absent carebears would make the picture more perfect than the ones that are here already do.

He that will enjoy the brightness of sunshine, must quit the coolness of the shade.
SAMUEL JOHNSON

I feel it all

2009-03-13T23:02:00.003Z

My moon my man.

Eternal life is now on my trail.

Got me my requiem coffin man, just need one last nail.

There's no time for hatred, only questions.

Where is love, where is happiness?

What is life? Where is peace?

When will I find the strength to bring me what I need?

Tell me, where is the truth in what your prophet has said?

You better turn around and blow your kiss good bye.

Too young to hold on, to old to just break free and run.

You never give me your money, you only give me your funny paper.

I never give you my number, I only give you my situation. And in the middle of negotiation you break down.

But oh, that magic feeling. Know where to go.

One sweet dream, pick up the the bags and get in the limousine.

Soon we'll be away from here, step on the gas and wipe that tear away.

One sweet dream came true today.

1,2,3,4,5,6,7. All good children go to heaven.

Here comes the sun.

*crickets*

Jigsaw Puzzles

2009-03-07T09:17:00.000Z

For a long time in London, all the pieces have fit together. Suddenly, with the removal of a few; a couple of dear friends, the good time certainty that a stable economy intrinsically provides, the realisation of how far away the most important people in my life seem to be, I'm feeling a bit like that lingering awkward piece who is left in the jigsaw box.

I suppose it is the late winter blues. I am vitamin D deprived: unlikely to see sustained sun for a while given the British spring's propensity for spontaneous downpour and billowing grey.

Let me describe for you this homesickness.

If you think about it too hard it settles like bricks on your chest and feels like your heart is broken. It is the total, utter, complete longing for your loved ones and knowing that a simple touch from your sister, a hug from your mum, an understanding look from your grandmother, could lift the bricks away.

It is the frustration of being angry at yourself for not being able to derive satisfaction from loving the friends where you are and the life that you have made. And it is also the crippling and paradoxical knowledge that the grass always grows greener on the south side, and that it aint nearly so green when you are standing on it..

Things feel remarkably like a house of cards. One strong breeze could blow me over and take me with it. I said earlier this year that I thought 'Rambling Woman was a good song for me. I still do. Reconciling my current bout of missing the Oz will eventually subside. The routine will iron out the wrinkles, and what is left won't be half bad. But until the slings and arrows will let me off their rollercoaster, I will feel like somebody has angled a magnifying glass right at my heart and is burning holes in it with the thin and wintry English sun.

A little dramatic perhaps, but at the moment, that's what it feels like.

The Perfect Pool Stance

2009-02-18T22:02:00.006Z

On Sunday, whilst playing pool with the lovely lovely Templeman family, I had the privilege of being given a lesson on how to play properly, by a gent who had grown up around family-owned pool halls. Free of the illusion of competence that I had laboured under for, well, my whole life, I found my ability to pot the balls greatly improved; my enjoyment of this rather blokey game therefore, improved significantly as I perfected the stance which I had just been taught.

The perfect pool stance, as demonstrated to me, is not the most ladylike of things. Having partaken in several glasses of the lovely that afternoon though, I wasn't going to let this inhibit my efforts, denim mini skirt or no. Let me describe it to you. Please withhold your disagreement on this description until you've seen where I've gone with it. Thankyou.

So, the perfect stance should not ordinarily involve one foot in front of the other. Rather, you should have your knees approximately shoulder width apart. As you set your beady eyes on your target of choice you should squat, bottom poking out as required, to reach the desired height. You place your left hand on the table (if you play pool right handed), splay your fingers and push them firmly onto the felt. You lean forward on this hand, distributing your weight evenly between your legs and the table. Importantly, you should be nice and steady in this position and your weight distributed such that if someone should try to knock you over, they quite simply could not.

But the real power, the genius of the proper pool stance, is in the hand that directs the cue: that pumps it toward the imaginary ball just beyond the white, guiding it toward the stripe or the dot, the line or the spot, the big or the small - into the ivory netted pocket of glory.

I swear I must spend half of my life in la-la land, because when reflecting on my new found pool sharkdom (this is a slight overstatement of my ability, but as usual, you'll have to forgive me the occasional embellishment) I realised that the unladylike squatting bottom out fingers splayed arm of glory pool stance is rather like a metaphor for how I'd like life to pan out. Yes indeedy.

The base unshakable is the requisite resoluteness. It is the creator of confidence and the thing from which great achievement can stem. A successful person, in my 8-ball view of life, has this kind of base; a hand on the table and their legs at shoulderwidth. Not easy to shake, not easy to knock over, and kinda scary when they look over their shoulder at you: their head craned back toward the arm of glory.

But once you have acquired, perfected, and cultivated this base and feel at ease with your bottom sticking slightly out, you need to practice that loose grip on the cue. Resisting the temptation to hold it too tightly, your right hand directs the cue but also commands its exponential power, stabbing at that little white ball and sending it rolling to brighter prizes. It took some nerve, I found, to loosen my grip on the pool cue. I was so accustomed to clutching it, and pushing it over my not-nearly-splayed-enough fingers in the blind hope of getting 'one in', that it took something of an ideological leap for me to believe that speed, power, and accuracy could be achieved with a little relaxation. For it is the case that the generator of the flair, the doer of the magic (I mean of course, the 'arm of glory') though functionless in the absence of the solid base, cannot reach its potential without a bit of a 'devil may cares' attitude. A little que sera sera perhaps? Though actually not really, for the cluey pool player knows that to loosen that grip actually sures up the outcome. Aaaaah, seeee....it isn't what ever will be will be. Disengenously perfect.

I mentioned earlier the shooting at the imaginary ball. Rather than aiming for the white itself, my able teacher explained that it is preferable (and I learned far more powerful) to aim for an imagined ball that sits just beyond the white. That's the ball you actually want to hit; the cheeky little invisible ball, the elusive guest at the table whom your opponent cannot see. That, dear friends, is about aiming a wee bit higher, and doing the unexpected. Don't go for the white ball, go for his imaginary friend, and the results are far better, far quicker and far more precise than you would expect. It is not only the perfect stance, it is the strategy with which one combines it that makes the pool shark someone to contend with.

Anyway, with that, you, and indeed I, should be wondering whether this writer has finally lost the plot. My life is a game of billiards. Oui. Dear me, I can talk a load of rubbish.

The promise of competence at the pool table: February 2- January 0.
The commencement of French lessons: February 3- January 0.

White Out

2009-02-02T19:31:00.004Z

'For today it is snow day, and all those who awake to a footpath covered in black ice need not venture out into the streets of London.'

Fortunately, I have enough emergency supplies (icecream, miscellaneous frozen vegetables, soup) to withstand the 18 or so hours of testing snow conditions. Others who weren't so fortunate had to *sucks air through teeth* go outside!

I am being facetious of course.

The snow has fallen. The credit crunch is forgotten. 24 hours of Russian winds have turned even the most uptight of adults into a squealing, goofily, smiling child. Exquisite blankets of powder cloak the streets. At it's edges of course there is grey slush, but no matter: we don't care. We frolic in the parks and the streets. We slide down hills on makeshift sleds, ignore the numbness of our toes and make minimal efforts to get to work.

For mine, I spent the day trying to ascertain whether my flight would depart for Warsaw. It's moments like those that I know the Aussie in me will never be completely stamped out. Conditioning has not yet wiped out my faith in this country's infrastructure. Optimism persisted until the moment I was informed once and for all that I could finally enjoy my snowday because the flight was indeed, cancelled. 'That's terrible' I said whilst clenching my fists to punch the air with glee. I was free.

I have spent the rest of snow day tromping in to work to get some stuff, with a circuitous walk past St Pauls. Amazing. Snow covered and beautiful. I then tromped back via Redcliffe Square where I watched lots of people making snowmen and igloos. Delightful! Glorious! Snow!

I have since indulged in some White Out cooking. Chicken fillets a la Snowday now sit comfortably inside my tum along with some leftover vino. Heaven. Flight is rescheduled for 10.30 tomorrow. Fingers are crossed, but hopes are low.

In the meantime, London is forgiven all of its sins. The credit crunch is muffled under a fluffy white coat. Moods are light and kids are playing. Roads are impassable and my freezer is well stocked.

February 1 - January 0.

Emancipation Through Mo-Town

2009-01-19T22:21:00.004Z

Be warned. The following post is self-indulgent catharsis on my part. It borders on pointless whinging. You've been warned. And warned again.

To put it simply, this has been just about the worst imaginable start to any year I can remember. I cannot wait for the last minute of January to tick over and be done with. That is when my 2009 is going to start as it can't and I can't continue on like this. I'd be faced with little option but to retreat to a cave, only to emerge having missed summer and autumn, and be slapped in the face again by Winter. That's how rotten the past 19 days have been: I'd skip summer if it meant avoiding another month like this stupid January.

I contemplated waiting until February 1 to write this, just in case things improved. But it appears on the eve of the first month's 20th day, that there are two chances of that happening (as my favourite Australian saying goes) : Buckley's and none. Therefore, if I can evacuate this diatribe from the annals of my whingometer now, by February there can be no more complaining. January will be a distant, depressing memory. And 2009 will begin anew.

The reasons for this miserable mileu, and the nature of it's symptoms are rather less relevant than what I want to tell you about, which is it's potential remedy. The calming, narcotic power of music has propped this lone ranger up so far and shall hopefully do so for another 12 days. Motown specifically, and The Supremes especially.

'Right now the only thing
That keeps me hangin on
When I feel my strength, yeah
Its almost gone
I remember mama said...'

...makes me smile when the clouds are drooping under the weight of the rain they are holding, threatening to saturate me on the way to the Underground.....

'Before you won my heart
You were a perfect guy
But now that you got me
You wanna leave me behind
Baby, baby, ooh baby'

...liberates me from the black shackles of my very very very bad mood......

'Set me free, why dont cha babe
Get out my life, why dont cha babe'

...empowers the brat inside me. Which isn't in and of itself a good thing as it causes me to, for example, argue with the umpire on the netball court, which isn't going to do wonders for my modified rules 'Speed net' career. Oh well. Ooohohoooohohooohoh.

Anyway, healing, calming, soothing powers of music will never again be underestimated by this humble blogger. Imagined memories of happier, less economically diabolical times, of shoulder pads, bouffant hair, glo-mesh and sequined bodices are like honey to this bee. Bzzzzzz.

Roll on February 1, the dulcet tones of Diana Ross might not get me through another single, bloody day of January. The inauguration tomorrow, conceivably, might buck me up long enough to trawl Motown's greatest hits for more musical balm, but possibly not, so February hurry up and show your flipping face.

Au revoir.

"When the Lord made me...."

2009-01-06T20:21:00.003Z

As I walk the streets of London at the moment, one sound is pervasive - more common than any other I hear. It is the sound of breath swiftly sucked back through the teeth, instinctively, against the cold.

There is an arctic cold snap at the moment I'm afraid, timed perfectly to coincide with my return from warmer climes over Christmas. It is testing my usually intractable sense of humour as well as the circulation in my toes, as I shuffle from the flat to the tube, from the tube to work, and back.

London itself has been a little cold for a while. The temperature is always unreliable of course, but the mood too has cooled. The credit crunch has sucked the heat from the global economy, and with it a lot of the optimism and zing that normally pulses through the veins of this place. As the last leaves were clinging to the branches of the trees a couple of months ago, sizable portions of the expat community here decided not to cling any longer. I'm hoping their decision was premature, but with the daily headlines rather depressing, the temperatures sub-zero and feeling a little beset by homesickness, one can't help but wonder.

I've been listening to a great album in the past week - Jukebox by Cat Power. The second track is a brilliant cover of Rambling Man by Hank Williams. Except she sings it as Rambling Woman. Which is quite a fitting track to hum while I tell you my resolutions for 2009.

This is the year of no excuses. No more rambling. Focus. That's the overriding theme of the resolutions. Generally speaking they aren't well thought through, not like last years 'self-improvement' resolutions. (And for the record, I did them all, and my meat and potato pie is awesome). But the thrust of the whole thing is, get back to basics and do what I love and am most interested in. That means scholarly, nerdy stuff and lots of reading, and lots more writing. I am also going to learn a new language.

I'd realised that for some weird reason, I'd always made excuses not to learn French. No longer. I enrolled in a morning class today. Schlepping across London for an 8am Thursday class, all in the name of a new years resolution. Awesome.

Anyway, with that vagary disposed of, I might hit the hay. I hope 2009 finds you, dear reader, (if indeed you still exist) safe and well. 'When the Lord made me, he made a rambling woman.'

Devices named after Fruits

2008-08-25T11:46:00.000+01:00

After my slightly cheesed off earlier post from Krakow, I am pleased to advise that while the bank problem remains unfixed, the soothing balm of the Adriatic has left me in a somewhat milder mood!

I am currently on a bus to Split, from where I will hop on a ferry to Hvar for 4 lazy lazy days, before ending in Dubrovnik next Monday. Hallelujah holidays!

Since Krakow we have; taken an entertaining, sleepless night train to Vienna, stayed in a hostel that stunk of rotting cabbage, rowed across Lake Bled in the Julian Alps (stunning!), watched the sunset in a village near Zadar while listening to music and looking at the sea, taken frenzied morning trips to the chemist (don't ask-it involves tummy bugs) and stuffed ourselves full of seafood a la Croatia. Needless to say, the girls and I are chilled. Or chilledski even?

I am breaking my own self imposed rule here by offering purely a narrative account, analysis free. Ah well - perhaps that's part of being truly relaxed - the not being too bothered, that is.

I am yet to decide whether the advent of the blackberry is a curse or a blessing for holidays. Downside - I can see what is going on at work all the time, Upside - I won't have too many emails to return to when I, shudder, return to work. The other thing is that it is remarkably handy to be able to google things to prove yourself right (or occasionally wrong!) when ensconsed in a dinner-time debate. The GPS is also useful (if not entirely understood by it's owner and her companions) and provides the light entertainment of watching onself represented as a red dot, aimlessly circling the strasses and platzs of Vienna, for example. Anyway, we shall see if I can bite the bullet and reduce the use of this wee device for this last week of sun, sun, sun.

Ok - I am nodding off - all that Electric Elephanting has made me weary. The ipod and travel snacks beckon, as does a nap with the practically obligatory open mouth and chin dribble. Mmmm. Glamourous.

Ciao.

A Test

2008-08-16T07:50:00.002+01:00

If I said that the past three months of blogger silence was a test to you, my loyal readership, would you believe me? I doubt it.

I can't diagnose the malady that has prevented me from writing. I've thought about writing and have just not really had anything to say. The advent of the facebook status removes the need for any minor, pressing issues to be blogged & the British summer and the need to make the most of the long days has reduced my (already finite) spare time. Anyway. I now have something to say - I am on holiday.

I am with Ellie and Claudia in Krakow. We are on the first full day of an 18 day day Central European odyssey. Monday night we catch a train to Vienna, then on to Ljubjana & Bled in Slovenia, then to Croatia for a week of beaches and not much else.

First point of note is that last night, I slept under a hammer & sickle flag, in the 'Lenin Room' of the Elephant on the Moon hostel. (It's lovely, super clean, cheap - and as I type this a mouth watering Polish breakfast awaits....mmmmm).

Second point of note is that by mutual agreement, all three of us left warm clothes at home. This is because were were convinced that the weather was going to be so sunny that we wouldn't need anything knitted or fleecy. The upshot of all that is, it's raining. And chilly. So today we may go to the underground salt mines about 90 minutes from here, as apparently that's the best thing to do in such natty weather.

In fact, it hasn't been quite the start to the holiday we imagined. As we sat eating Polishified Georgian food last night in the Old Town, watching rain that was positively torrential, I called my bank to ascertain why I was unable to access any money. 'Your card has been cloned' they informed me, 'And so we put a block on your card being used outside the UK.' 'Oh you did did you? Did you thnk about INFORMING me before you did this?' I replied, extremely cheesed off, 'It's ok', said the call centre man, 'We will allow you to access 100 pounds per day throughout your holiday.' Fortunately I am backpacking, and am not a more wealthy customer with designs upon antiques and art, otherwise this would be even less practical than it already is. To say I am cross is an understatement. The only thing my bank did to redeem themselves, was to credit my account with the 20 pounds, which in my fury I guesstimated would have been the cost of my phone call to the UK.

So, I am going to have to think quite carefully about how to access MY OWN MONEY throughout the holiday, and will be writing a terse letter when I get home. I can't believe they didn't call me before they put a stop on my card, particularly when, as a regular traveller, a cursory glance at the last 2 months statements would have suggested that I MIGHT NEED TO USE MY CARD OVERSEAS.

Right, rant over.

Krakow is a lovely city - Poland's most popular. A population that is Adelaide size-ish, but smooshed closer to the centre in the trademark apartment blocks of post-Soviet cities. We can't wait to do some stuff - I just wish I wasn't looking out the window, across this table full of delicious Polish breakfast food, to see drizzle. Yes, it is DRIZZLE. Not even proper rain. :-(

Right - o. The girls will sleep all day if I don't go and jump on them to wake them, so I think that's what I may do. The promise of ood always works a treat too. On all of us. :-)

Kepp an eye out - I may well blog a few times the next few weeks. Just because I can!

Airborne

2008-05-21T07:39:00.002+01:00

While I won’t be able to publish this post until I land, I nonetheless write from the flukey luxury of the emergency exit seat of my flight to Moscow. Week two of this particular glut of travel has begun, where I take one step further toward reluctantly becoming carbon-footprintesse; racking up the airmiles faster than you can say ‘the Amazon is shrinking’. Actually, that last bit is a lie – from the unglamourous world of discount economy, the points don’t accrue quite as fast as one would hope. But as usual I digress.

A mildly depressing by-product of the travel (which don’t for a moment, think I don’t enjoy) is that the novelty wears off. Not that long ago, entering airports still gave me that slight nervous feeling in the bottom of my tummy; packing the night before was exciting, sitting in the confines of an aeroplane cabin was cool and not irritating and the window seat was a coveted prize.
Alas, it’s not as glamorous as it sounds. The ugly underbelly of the whole thing (apart from the increasing disconnexion with your life at home) is that your skin dries out like an old boot, your diet is thrown into disarray by time differences & hotel breakfasts, and the wonderful efficiencies of such airborne conveniences as ‘BA’s own handwash/airfreshener’ wreak havoc on a gal’s physiology.

All of my closest friends know of my tendency to spontaneously break out in bizarre red rashes & flushes – probably an unfortunate inheritance of rosacea from my mother-dearest. This somewhat unpredictable condition seems to be exacerbated by the ‘less than 1%’ humidity environment of the plane (I just read that in the in-flight magazine) and the chemical innovations that British Air obviously considers time and space savers. (If every poor sod to use the loo washes their hands with that awful 2 in 1 stuff, I don’t suppose it matters how smelly the darned facility gets). Increasingly I understand the carefully selected array of cosmetics available on board in the duty free catalogue – 8 hour Cream to quench my skin’s equivalent of a rollicking hangover, and various eye potions to smooth the wrinkly depressions that develop around my squinting peepers.

I’m not for a moment trying to sound brattish and hoity-toity about all of this. Landing in Kyiv on a Tuesday only to fly to Vienna on a Thursday and Moscow the following Monday is the randomest, most brilliant thing to do in the name of work that I can currently imagine. What’s even more fortunate is that I actually enjoy what I do at either end of the journey.

This current travel glut more exciting than usual for a couple of reasons. This week I am in Moscow for nearly 4 whole days, innocently timed to coincide with the Chelsea v Manchester United match on Wednesday night. The atmosphere in Moscow promises to be as electric as the prods holstered in the utility belts of the riot police, as they jab all the unsuspecting footy yobs (who are about to get the shock of their lives in Moscow) in their parochial backsides.

The second cause for excitement is that Mama Neary is currently here, and we are flying together to Spain (Benahavis to be precise) on Friday after I touch back down in Londres for a whole 12 hours. All I know about Benahavis is that I am staying in a spa hotel, there are a lot of very very good restaurants around, and that there is a high probability of a high proportion of sun. B-E-A-utiful.

Anyway, given my good fortune in being allocated a seat with expansive and luxurious leg room, it would seem almost sinful not to at least stretch out and lap it up. This is virtually impossible to do with my laptop propped on my lap, so das vitanya. Or however they say it in Moskva.

Chivalry

2008-04-14T21:12:00.002+01:00

So finally, I am writing a post on here. After two months of not very much, I've found some inspiration. I have a policy you see, of not writing on here unless I have something interesting (at least in my humble opinion) to say. So much meaningless and unconsidered pap abounds on the Internet, that while not necessarily always being able to avoid adding to the pile, I'd like to think that I can at least self-censor until I have something a)vaguely witty b)vaguely thematic or c) where a and b cannot be achieved, something that meets the basic threshold criteria of being, vaguely interesting.

I have thus decided to write a note on British chivalry. I hope you don't mind if I simultaneously tuck in to my wild mushroom ravioli having just got in from a muscle pulverising session on the power plates - my new favourite gym equipment.

So.

The British are known for having good manners. As a British-born Australian-raised anomaly, I often find these manners rather stultifying, however equally as often, I find them quite nice and endearing.

One thing that I find quite hard to adjust to, and which I don't recall happening anywhere near as consistently in Australia, is when I am waiting either to get in or out of the lift at work, and find that any member of the male species who happens to be waiting to do the same, makes a very English point of allowing me to either enter or exit first.

After over nine months I still don't think I have got the feminine etiquette right in this situation.

Does one simply ignore the fact that every man in the lift is standing there waiting politely for you to exit first, and stride out, chin up and feigning oblivion? (Sometimes I do this.) Or rather, make subtle eye contact with the waiting gent, tilt her head ever so slightly in self-effacing acknowledgement and then walk out? (Sometimes I do this.) Or do I (and this is my instinctive reaction) - roll my eyes in reluctant acceptance of this chivalry, say 'thanks' in my broadest Austrayan accent, and walk on ahead?

Sigh. Daily, five, six, seven times I take the lift between floors and am faced with this quandary, which I suspect, were I born and bread in mother England, wouldn't even register on my 'thing-dar' as being a thing.

The other chivalrous act which causes me some trepidation is the assistance that British (and central European for that matter) gentlemen will often provide with one's coat. Being a northern lass, broad-of shoulder but disproportionately narrow in lower rib-cage, the cut of coat I seem to buy does not lend itself to the athletic manoeuvre that is, struggling into a coat that is being held open behind you by a date/friend/senior partner of the firm, however kind their intentions. I am therefore often at my most unwieldy and least glamorous when struggling into a coat at the end of a pleasant lunch/dinner/drink in a bar...... Woe is me, the tall woman who prefers to wear 2-3 inch heels, participates enthusiastically in conversation, thereby drawing enough attention to herself to ensure that the coat-struggling leads to one of those embarrassing flushes to which she is prone - the kind that creeps down the sides of her neck and betrays her discomfort!

My final note on British chivalry is this. All of the above flies madly out of the window when one takes the Underground. The kindly Associate who might wait for you to step into the lift, will elbow you out of the way, without a qualm, should he happen to meet you in the Hobbesian world of the platform at King's Cross station at 9.05am. The polite and softly spoken gent with whom you have shared a quiet cocktail or two in some chichi bar prior to his ably provided assistance with your coat, will happily elbow you in the face whilst smushed against you like a sardine, leaving you hunched like a wilting hydrangea in that annoying section at the side of each tube carriage (on the Piccadilly line especially) that was created for hobbits, dwarfs and all other beings under 4'11.

The philosophical question which I now pose is this? If these good manners, and particularly the gendered ones of the nature I have described above, don't extend to the Londoner's daily commute - what in fact is the point of them? :-)

Anyway, I've said all I need to say on that.

A quick update on other news - I spent Easter in Latvia, as the loyal amongst you would know. It was great and I'd recommend a visit. Don't expect to sleep.

I was meant to go to Vienna for work today, but the trip was cancelled at the last minute because one of the Partners who was due to come, had to work on a big transaction which was going to close at the same time as she was meant to be standing in front of a client teaching them about share purchase agreements. So that was a bit annoying.

I've started reading my first piece of central and eastern European literature - The Brothers Karamazov by Dostoevsky. Dad did you ever read him at Uni?

There are a couple of other developments, but they are a bit embarrassing and I've not decided whether I am prepared to publicly humiliate myself yet for your reading-pleasure.....

Mum is coming in May and we are going to visit Marbella in Spain (the alarming growth of my carbon footprint by virtue of air travel this year, does not escape my attention - fear not.)

I have my first trip to Kyiv, also in May which friends tell me makes the hedonism of Warsaw, Riga and Moscow look dilute.

In June I intend to attend a big summer festival here in London.

July = bonus time! Yippee!

August = the central European odyssey with Ellie. Jumping out of my skin with excitement at the though of sitting in a chalet in the Julian Alps overlooking Lake Bled in Slovenia, sitting on a towel admiring the southern Croatian coast, catching a train to a spa-island just outside Bratislava. Sigh.

Sorry folks. Can't see myself leaving this part of the world quiiiiiteee yet.

xx

Look! I'm in Riga!

2008-03-25T21:42:00.001Z

Look! I'm in Riga!
Originally uploaded by adelvice.

I have not written on my blog for ages and ages. Thoroughly neglectful and utterly lazy.

To tide you over till I get time to write something proper - here is a picture of me in Riga over the Easter weekend. I went with four friends - all male - and had an absolute ball!

Sorry

2008-02-17T22:26:00.001Z

Only an excerpt. I wish I could have been there to see this.

Four Countries, Four Weeks, Energy, Fatigue

2008-02-08T22:39:00.000Z

"Excuse me, I'm sorry, there's not a lot of room. I hope you don't mind me standing here', I said to the two young gentlemen standing at the bar in Platinum, Warsaw.

'Is that an Australian accent?' said one of them, obviously himself an Aussie far from home.

'Indeed it is' I replied.

And thereupon started one of the more interesting and serendipitous meetings of the past few weeks.

Rewind some time.

My feet touched the ground in London last Wednesday evening. I had spent the five preceding days in Warsaw, and the three immediately before that in Moscow. In the week prior, and the one immediately after my most recent post, I was in Prague.

My arm has an increasingly black looking mark on it from where I continue to pinch myself. These are the places where I now find myself working. Honestly, I can't believe my luck. As the line from Sound of Music goes 'Somewhere in my youth, or childhood...I must have done something good.' Forgive me, as always, for my cheesy lapses.

Alas, Prague was a bit of a rush. Client training, the first of three, a new initiative, to-ing and fro-ing and lots of people to see, I mashed my sightseeing into 15 minutes and ran back to the office to jump in a taxi. I shall return there and stay longer. It is a stunning city, absolutely beautiful.

Moscow on the other hand was slightly less frenetic. I have 2 pals in that office - an Adelaide boy and a Sydney boy. They took me to dinner (on expenses, god bless expenses!) and then for a walk through the snow to Red Square. Where I stood. Like an idiot. Cursing the limitations of the camera on my blackberry and wanting to snap the place from every angle, and cursing my own ignorance for not knowing more about the history of the place. I know enough to get it, but not enough to really get it. That makes limited sense.

Apologies, I still haven't redressed by sleep deficit.

Moscow is not an easy place to visit. Of the 7 offices I work in, and the 5 I have been to thus far, it is the furthest away, it has the biggest time difference, smiling gets you nowhere, and English even less. It is a vast and intimidating city, ironically materialistic but still somehow not Western. Even the sign on McDonalds is written in cyrillic. Now people, imagine it........

It is wildly expensive, and I cannot fathom how people not fortunate enough to have an ex-pat's salary or a corporate credit card manage to eek out their existence. My accommodation for one night in that place cost well over three quarters of my weekly take-home pay. And the hotel was sub-par, the breakfast utterly dismal.

Again the faces, the faces - they are different. The eyes on the metro (I caught it with Arty and Mark) are sad, the jawlines set, movements measured, reactions considered. It is the only place where I have been that the use of English, even mere pleasantries, is consistently, overwhelmingly, met with a blank expressionless stare. You will be treated more favourably, it would appear, if you speak gruffly in any language, without eye contact, and raise your voice if you don't get your own way.

I am painting, not undeliberately, an unfriendly picture. It only got to about -10 when I was there. It snowed for only the second time this year. 'This is not winter' explained the Muscovites in my office, 'there is no snow' (this was patently untrue, I could see it everywhere) 'It is not cold' (this last point, I can also verify, was patently untrue). By Moscow standards perhaps, and for people accustomed to fierce, biting, unforgiving winters, this was all true.

In a cab, an amusing thing happened. I use the term 'cab' loosely, as in Moscow, every man with a car is a possible conduit between you and your destination. Bereft of Russian, I was dependent on my pals and colleagues to sort out such vehicles to ferry me about. In one cab with a man who looked like he was from the outskirts of the former Soviet Union, (a '-stan' country) I mused with Arthur about whether this was truly safe. 'Don't be silly, it's fine, trust me' he said. Conceding I replied 'Where do you think this guy is from?' 'I don't want to say in case he understands me'. 'What does it start with?' I pressed. "Maybe a 'T'??' was Arthur's answer. A few moments of silence.

'So are you guys tourists?' came the voice of the driver. This in a city where my ears barely heard English spoken. Arthur and I looked at each other slightly embarassed, wondering how much our driver had understood.

The flight home was delayed, and then, frustratingly an hour of my life was sucked away by the tarmac at Heathrow. 'I'm awfully sorry chaps', said the pilot, 'I'm going to turn the engines off, it looks like we will be sitting here awhile. Feel free to turn on your phones and call who you need to.' He may not have said chaps. I didn't hear. I, like the other be-suited types onboard were already clicking our tongues on our teeth, powering up our blackberries, and furiously flicking emails here and there complaining about the airport, imploring our taxi's to wait awhile longer for us.

How suddenly one becomes accustomed to this kind of existence!

10 hours later, and after a fairly fitful sleep, I was on the plane to Warsaw to join the staff of that office for their annual ball. I had big expectations for this city, having developed a semi-fixation on Polish men, and having made some absolutely fabulous Polish friends. It didn't disappoint me.
Warsaw is not a beautiful city. It was flattened, demolished with calculating completeness in the second world war. Now the skyline is dominated by tower blocks, slightly less ugly than those in Moscow, but nonetheless unattractive. These building were erected in the 50's and 60's to house the thousands of people who returned to the city. As my dear friend Izabela explained 'these were meant to be temporary', but I guess the advent of communism meant that the incentive to knock them down was removed.

Did you know that the hedonistic heyday of Poland was in the 20's and 30's, pre-war? Either did I, until Iza took Kat and I to a fabulous art gallery. I have never seen the history of a place depicted so clearly through art as I did there. Such pronounced differences, from the Parisian reminiscent chic of that pre-war period, giving way to the influences of war, and then to the greys and industry of communism. Amazing. And illuminating.

The old town, completely destroyed, and completely rebuilt. It looks therefore 'new' old. But is no less fantastic for it.

I found Warsaw to be a very calming place. Notwithstanding two extraordinarily late nights (the second which I alluded to in the opening of this post) and a thorough insight into the life of the many young, glamorous, wealthy Poles who are making the most of the contemporary opportunities, I still found it to be calm and peaceful. I consider myself very lucky to have several good friends there, Izabela in particular.

And the chance meeting I mentioned above, led to a meeting in the office on Tuesday between one of the teams, and a high profile client (Australian). So it would seem, I may have paid for my trip in a roundabout way. Perhaps next year I shall ask for a 'business development' allowance, to facilitate clubbing in Eastern Europe..... not as preposterous as it sounds. :-)

Ladida. It could all get a bit intoxicating this constant travel. Fortunately, next Wednesday (actually, in 4 days time) I shall jump once more aboard a plane, to fly back to Australia. You can bring me crashing back to earth, and pick on the supposed English twang in my accent. As long are you are buying me Pale Ale, by the pint, I shall let you get away with it.

Good evening. Das vitanya. Do widzenia.

Snow and Faces

2008-01-14T23:37:00.000Z

I am currently in Bucharest writing this from my blackberry. Forgive the poorly thought out ideas. Am blogging as best as I can from the comfort of my hotel bed in a country where the water is apparently brown sometimes.

Naively, I always had in my mind previously that the countries behind the former iron curtain were in some small way uniform. Obviously it had occurred to me that there were differences, but what I didn't expect to find was that the single, the only common thread that bound them during that era was communism. Ethnic, cultural, linguistic, historical diversity that was, apparently, repressed to varying degrees during that long era now manifests everywhere.

But the thing that has most surprised me quite possibly is the faces. Romanian faces seem to be vaguely mediterranean and I learned tonight that Romanian is a Latin derived language-closer to Spanish or Italian than it is to its at once close and distant slavic neigbours.

Bucharest is cloaked in snow right now and it is cold,but in an exciting rather than numbing way. People at work have been laughing at my (as it turns out) misplaced trepidation about how to cope with icy pavements and trudging through snow drifts.The truth is that here, unlike in England, they are accustomed to and thus prepared for snow. It makes it easier to cope with. Having borrowed an exquisitely cosy rabbit lined anorak from Frilly certainly helps. To the friends expressing their horror at my wearing of fur- a thought for you- try waiting for a cab in -12 without a fur and see how your opinion changes.... :-) Anyway, rabbits are pests.

I suspect I may have started a fire with that burst of capriciousness..!

Anyway. The snow is wonderful. As surprisingly is the freezing fog. I feel like a lock-jawed ninny staring glazed eyed from the taxi window at cars buried in snow, and like a cool-clime novice when I express surprise at aircraft casually parked on unnatural and abandoned angles aside the runway.

Could I live in it? Certainly not. But as a visitor whose time is made finite here by the prospect of snow on Thursday and the inflexible conditions of my return ticket, the snow is delicious.

As is the prospect of 8 uninterupted hours of sleep. Starting now.

This Year and Next

2007-12-25T22:00:00.000Z

It is now 6 full months that I have been here in London. That, and the fact that we are knocking on the door of 2008 has made me tres reflective. A bit of introspection never hurt anyone did it?

For a start, I have made for resolutions for the New Year. Your assistance with a couple of them is being solicited and actively encouraged.

1) I am going to learn to make a fantastic meat and potato pie - never fail crowd pleaser :-)
2) Further to the above, I am going to learn to make a kick-ass lasagna - given that as a child I repeatedly answered "lasagna" when quizzed on my favourite food, it is a little bit strange that I have never made one.

*I INTEND TO TRY A NUMBER OF RECIPES OUT OVER THE COURSE OF THE NEXT FEW MONTHS AND WOULD LIKE YOU TO SHARE YOUR BEST IF YOU HAVE THEM*

3) Learn to enjoy having a bath - many people would know that while I have no aversion to 'bathe-ing' generally, but that I have for some time loathed baths. I have diagnosed this as being directly symptomatic of my inability to relax, and therefore have prescribed for myself a new years resolution to force myself to get over this.

4) Finally and perhaps most importantly - in the new year I am going to stop not doing things, because I don't have anyone to do them with. There is a slightly melancholic tinge to this resolution I suppose, given that my occasional lonerism is due to my ongoing single-ness. However, there are many things that I want to do in this city while I have the fortune of living here, and so damn it, I am going to do them alone-or-no. Theatre, museums, galleries, even holidays - in 2008 I shall unleash my inner pal. :-)

So that's my resolutions. What do you think? I think they are achievable - there is no point making resolutions like 'in 2008 I am going to do the things that I have been resolving to do on December 31 for every year of my life in recent memory'. If ya ain't lost that 5Kg/quit smoking/been on that holiday yet - another new years resolution ain't gonna help.

There are other things I want to achieve in 2008 of course, another notable one being to do some semi-competitive running, given my new found affinity with the treadmill. I also want to travel more within the UK to cities like Bath, Norwich, Torquay, Leeds, Bristol, Manchester, Cardiff, Glasgow and Edinburgh. Realistically I might get to 3 or 4 of them, and I am starting to plan this now. For all it's flaws, this is a beautiful country, and I take great delight in observing the subtle regional differences that even a journey of 5Km can reveal. As someone once said 'there's nowt as queer as folk'. Meeting as many of them as I can, will if nothing else, keep life interesting.

So that's the resolutions. Now for the retrospective.

I think 2007 for me will over time demonstrate itself to be a fairly important year. I flew the coop, slogged my way to admission as a lawyer and moved countries alone. I think that I have also learned in the last year, but really in the last couple, to chill out more and enjoy life as it comes.

I was mildly alarmed when flicking through a book in a bookshop today, to read that Einstein believed that at 25 you have pretty much achieve most of your potential and have set yourself on your life's trajectory (your parabola of success or failure?). A bloody depressing thought don't you think? I am not sure that I agree, but then again, as a 25-and-a-quarter year old, I wouldn't would I?

But I digress.

I have thought quite hard about this, and have listed what I consider to be the highlights and lowlights of the year that was. I will probably re-read this tomorrow and kick myself for missing out some pivotal moment, but if so, I guess it's my prerogative to edit it covertly. So ner.

Highlights of 2007 (in no particular order)

Discovering Balzac
Discovering Sufjan Stevens
Discovering the weird and occasionally unnerving joy of travelling solo
The Adelaide Weekend
Living in Norwood with Erina
Visiting Eastern Europe for the first time
The Car Man at Sadler's Wells
My friends
Living with Frilly!!
The Labor election win in Australia (as sweet as candy!)
Labour Party Conference, meeting fellow politicos and seeing David 'the dish' Miliband speak three times (I'm being slightly tongue in cheek for those of you who care...)
The day in August where I fell in love with London while sitting on the balcony drinking wine and staring dreamy-eyed into the darkening evening sky

Lowlights of 2007

Being homesick
Having my handbag and camera stolen in Fulham (that was last night by the way)
The British winter
Men (though I remain hopeful...)
Being in London for the Aussie Labor victory
The flagging fortunes of the British Labour Party
Saying goodbye to Erina's wardrobe of glory
The times where I haven't been true or honest to myself
That day in June where I had to say goodbye to all my dearest friends and family in one big fat soul-crushing hit.

Apologies in advance for my self-indulgence here. I do afterall, as a dyed-in-the-wool Virgo, find this kind of list-making quite cathartic.

Without question this next six months will be tough- make or break if you will. They will also be unfailingly interesting, busy, challenging and exciting. Beginning the year with four international trips ought to set the tone.

So for now I shall bid you adieu fair-readers. Please don't forget to give me your recipes if you have good ones. I shall at least succeed in two of my resolutions.

NB - As an addendum to this diatribe of self-indulgence, please be advised that I had a wonderful christmas spanning four equally welcoming homes, with the cherry atop the week being a night out in Blackburn, the neighbouring town to Burnley where I was born. Thankfully I uploaded a few pics to the photostream yesterday prior to having my camera, blackberry and scarf pinched from my handbag (they didn't want the bag, or my lovely new gloves, or my new perfume), so all is not lost. :-(

Mulled Wine

2007-12-16T19:59:00.001Z

Mulled Wine
Originally uploaded by adelvice.

My toes were very cold at the point this picture was taken. My tummy on the other hand, was not. :-)

Tis The Season

2007-12-16T19:02:00.000Z

I promised you that I would blog soon, properly. And here I am!

Yesterday. on a trip down to the German Christmas Markets in Kingston, I went into the computer shop and did what I should have done weeks ago. I bit the bullet and bought a new keyboard. Hurrah.

And for your sake, I wish I could say that a lot has happened since I last wrote on here. Alas it has not.

I have been working, sleeping, eating, going to the gym and preparing bit by bit for the next week or so of hysteria. You would think that being here and largely isolated from the majority of people with whom I have spent the last 24 years sharing christmas, my schedule might be devoid of appointments.

On the contrary, each night this week brings dinner with different friends, work functions of various stripes (bearing in mind that I have already had two work christmas 'do's') and then a frantic Friday night of preparation before I begin the pilgrimage in a northerly direction to spend Christmas with a combination of family, family friends, and new pals.

It's all rather busy, and nice. I do miss home though, and am rather homesick at the moment. The weather and short days certainly doesn't help (thank god for all the endorphins that I treat my brain to with my thrice-weekly gym sesh, otherwise I have no doubt I would be utterly depressed!). The upside to this cold christmas however, is the new and heretofore unexperienced christmas treats. For a start, people have real christmas trees. Yeah, like ones that grow in the ground.

But that is merely the beginning my friends. If I had a pound for every time I have drunk mulled wine in December, I might have actually be able to afford the Biba dress that I turned down (with great restraint) at their sample sale on Friday ;-). All the sandwich shops have various incarnations of a 'christmas sandwich' on sale which entail basically a roast dinner slapped between two slices of bread. Mmmmmm.

I went down to Kingston yesterday for the christmas markets, as I mentioned above, and they were cool. Kingston itself wasn't too bad either ( a bit of a shopping mecca....definitely contemplating a visit during the January sales.....). It does feel like christmas, but a different kind of christmas. I shall miss dearly on the 25th though, the annual seafood feast at Uncle Kev's. Moreton Bay Bugs. Crayfish. Prawns. Oysters. (Why does everything relate to food at the moment by the way?)

I shall remember my visit to Kingston forever, if only for the fact that I bought my first hat. I remember when I first arrived in London and was discussing winter with Frilly- who said 'oh yes, and you will need a hat Delly'. 'Pah', I said, 'Not I'. And yesterday I bought a hat. So that shows you who knew better doesn't it. It is cream, and wooly, and makes me look a bit like a baker boy. I tried on some berets but they do not suit my moon-shaped mug.

Today I was lucky enough to be invited to lunch with a friend from Adelaide, and a bunch of other people that I know from home plus new acquaintances. Anyway, snaps for Alice, who stuffed and cooked an entire turkey herself. And to Kate, who made a delightful sticky toffee pudding and apple crumble. And to Cat, for her M&M cookies. I contributed very little, apart from loaned crockery and cutlery, some wine, and of course, the privilege of my wit and company for the afternoon. :-) I learned today, that turkey apparently contains a natural sedative which (unsurprisingly) makes you very sleepy after you have eaten it in large quantities. I have since verified that this is true. Click here.

Perhaps predictably then, we all waddled home far earlier than scheduled. And so it is that I am wrapping some more presents, doing some washing, and planning the week ahead.

Fortunately, work isn't overly busy so i should be able to get out on time most evenings this week. January on the other hand, is looking like it will be an international odyssey of grand proportions. This is utterly exciting, apart from when I remember that I will be working in Eastern Europe in the depths of winter. I need to investigate the potential purchase of fur-lined boots, and some longjohns. Yep, I can hear you swooning.

My boss will be going on maternity leave shortly after I return from Oz (Feb 15-25th!!!) and so before she is banned from flying anywhere, we are squeezing in as much as we possibly can. The plan is about 4 trips in mid-late January, including Moscow, Bucharest, Prague, Warsaw and possibly Budapest. (I can just see those air-miles adding up........hooray!) So the first bit of the year is going to be madness. But very exciting madness.

Righto. You've all probably fallen asleep now and/or aren't even reading this in the first place because you gave up on me ever blogging again. But that's the state of things at this point in time.

I doubt I shall be on here before christmas, and perhaps not even before the new year. S o to entertain you until then I have uploaded some well-overdue pictures, including some of the Flat 93 Sexy Christmas Party which ransacked its way through my house last weekend. :-)

Hohoho. Bah humbug. All the rest. Eat a prawn for me, and think of me over here freezing, with the colour slowly leaching from my skin, but full of mulled wine, minced pies and turkey tiptoeing along the icy pavements whilst trying to keep my eyes open in spite of natural sedatives.

Until 2008. Mwah.

The Weather

2007-12-13T09:35:00.000Z

It is -1 right now. There was ice on the ground this morning. I almost slipped.

On a brighter note, it is sunny. But because it is sunny, there are no clouds, and it is -1.

Nature works in mysterious cyclical ways.

And in December in London, they are cold ways.

Brrrrrrrrr.

(PS I will post properly soon I promise - my laptop is still lacking a spacebar, and it takes me so long to type and i have no patience, so as soon as i have a minute to go into a computer shop I shall be purchasing a new keyboard.....and there will be a new post from me.)

Ahem

2007-11-24T18:59:00.001Z

Ahem
Originally uploaded by adelvice.

You little bloody beauty!

Another moment of glory.

2007-11-18T16:05:00.000Z

Everyone wants their 1.7 seconds of fame.

Mine kicks in here at around 1 minute 16.

Go Ruddy!

I cast my vote yesterday, with a horrific sniffly cold and in about 5 degrees. Gotta love London.

Poles and Cobblestones

2007-11-14T21:51:00.000Z

I have to say, with some arrogance, that my new job is pretty sweet.

I just spent the weekend in Sofia, Bulgaria -eating, drinking and being merry with colleagues from the old Soviet bloc. Oh yeah. And I was working.

This was basically the deepest I have been into 'new' europe, and lordy lord, I had a good time.

I was helping to coordinate a training weekend of 50 lawyers from across our 7 CEE offices, and lucky for me, inherently bound up in that task was a significant amount of socialising including, unexpectedly, some of the best clubbing I have done in quite sometime!

I have resolved, also unexpectedly, that at the first opportunity I find, I think I am going to try and marry a Pole. I briefly thought that this might be a bad idea as I would end up with some unpronounceable combination of z's y's k's and o's as my surname, but, once I remembered that I don't intend to change my surname I realised that it was a surmountable problem.

By way of explanation, Polish men seem to be a lovely combination of chivalrous, well-groomed , attractive and nicely perfumed. I have always tried never to allow this blog to become a Carrie Bradshaw-esque column (though if I did, I would probably be richer) but given my recent perplexing experiences as a single woman on both sides of the globe, there is something very appealing about Polish sensibility. (As an aside lads, the girls are invariably gorgeous. Something to keep in mind....)

Whilst away, I made several observations that I planned to share on here, not the least of which is that 'boxing boot as fashion statement' is well and truly alive in Bulgaria, however as I have idiotically managed to break the space bar on my computer, typing this is causing fatigue of my usually indefatigable right thumb.

I have posted a couple of pics on the photostream, none of them too remarkable, but they do show the first big snow of the season, which conveniently ruined our group excursion to a world heritage listed monastery, and gave me my first true lip-numbing taste of the central european winter.

And I shall leave you with a final thought - cobblestones + ice + stiletto boots + Adelle = thank god there was a lovely chivalrous Polish man to save her. Hahahahahahaha. Goodnight & goodlucksky.

Elekshuneering

2007-11-04T10:12:00.001Z

Inevitability

2007-10-29T17:27:00.000Z

Winter is coming.

I swear that in the 2 weeks that my mother was here, and while my feet were barely touching the ground, the season changed.

As soon as I had time to take a deep breath and open my eyes again, all of a sudden it was darker, cooler, and the psyche of this town shifted, just a little.

Everywhere I walk now, the shadows of fallen oak leaves (probably swept up at 4 am by the street cleaner) stain the roads and the pavements like ghosts. They are quite beautiful, and I must admit, when I first noticed them everywhere as I walked to work, I was delighted. Silly things like this I guess, are what we don’t really have in Australia.

Just like London breathes in, breathes out and relaxes when the sun comes out, the trees seem to wait until the first day of autumn to breathe in and let their leaves fall to the ground with a sigh.

Other signs of the looming winter abound.

I arrived home to my flat a few weeks ago and literally had to de-robe as soon as I walked in the door. The heating for the whole of the block where I live had been switched on and as the boiler is located right underneath the floor of my flat, the pipes were (ironically) piping hot for a solid week, while the managers of the building tried to get the temperature right. The happy bonus of this is that, in winter, the flat will always be warm and this will, apparently, save us quite a bit of coin.

Where previously I could leave work at 6pm and trot along Aldersgate street with the sun sitting high in the sky, I now exit the revolving doors to a rapidly darkening sky. When I go to the gym, I emerge at 7 and it is totally dark. When I first arrived the sun didn’t set until well after 9. This, I find, is a little depressing.

I have noticed certain gastronomical changes in myself of late. Defaulting in my choice of beverage to a cup of tea is one of them. When I get to work, when I get home and when I am going to bed, I lose control of my will as my body, without prompt, goes through the motions of getting out my mug, boiling the kettle and preparing the brew. I only regain control when I am sat holding, two-handed, a steaming mug of English tea. It’s all a bit strange really.

The preference for stodge is also developing. I noticed this initially the other night when I went to a great little pub around the corner called the Bird in Hand, and on a lovely menu of all sorts of tasty treats, I chose sausage and mash. And my word, that cheesy mash and those yummy yummy Baron’s Court Butcher’s bangers, tasted lovely as they descended down through my oesophagus, on the way to their ultimate destination which I imagine (although this is obviously speculation) is either that nice soft bit of my tummy about an inch below my belly button, or (and this is more likely), to my thighs.

But I digress.

One of the definite upside’s of this whole getting colder business, is the clear days. Last weekend I had the fortune of attending a christening in Holmefirth, inYorkshire, and I don’t think we could have had more perfect weather. Although, naturally, 16 degrees is a little cold for my tastes, a clear sky with the odd fluffy cloud, no wind, and the rolling hills of West Yorkshire were, to my mind, absolutely exquisite.

A fellow christening-goer asked me whether we had views like that in Australia, and while I think we certainly do, I answered him by pointing out the things we wouldn’t have – stone walls that look like they were built 400 years ago (although it was probably 500 years ago) and little country cottages with triangular roofs, also made of stone. In Australia we have other things, but there are few I think, who can dispute the beauty of the northern countryside.

Anyway, life is going well here. I start my new job this week, and am very much looking forward to my first work trip the following week, to Bulgaria. I now have a blackberry for work which means you can email me on my work address at any hour of the day or night and I will get it. I can’t quite decide whether that is cool or depressing.

Right, well I have wasted nearly my entire Saturday on the phone and typing this for later upload to the blog (no internet at home right now…. grrrr!) so I am going to stop and get out of the house for a bit. So until next time, ciao.

(Oh yeah, I hear there is an election on. For a laugh go to this page.)

W14

2007-10-06T20:44:00.000+01:00

There comes a time in every girl's life where she has to confess that she has been extremely slack, and in turn, apologise profusely...

This is my time.

I haven't blogged very much lately.

But in my own defence, may I just say, that is has been a rather busy period.

To being with, I moved into my new flat on Tuesday. Many of you would have received the email updating my contact details, and the London savvy amongst you will recognise that the title of this post is a reference to my postcode. Ahem.

Anyway, I am sharing with a German girl who is a product designer (this is her website) and a Greek boy who is in finance. Thus far it has been cool. My room is pretty comfortable and I am personalising it bit by bit. It's in West Kensington which sounds a bit posher than it is, but it's great for transport etc etc, and I think I have stumbled on a pretty good deal.

So what are my other excuses?

Well, Mum was here for a fortnight, which consumed my time a fair bit. We had a great time, traipsing up and down the country and across to Belgium for a weekend too. Even though it hadn't been too long since I last saw my folks, having them around certainly reminds you of such things as; how restrained your personality generally is when you aren't with family and close friends and, how nice it is to be able to turn to your mum and say in a whingy, juvenile voice - mu-um i can't iron shirts as well as you can, puh-leeaase will you iron this one for me (complete with ear to ear slightly pleading grin...... and yes, i realise how extraordinarily stupid i have just made myself sound).

Anyway, it was fab having mum around (did I just say fab?!) and I will miss her loads. And all I can say is, thank goodness Dad was in Brussels to condone my beer-drinking despite the protestations of my mother.

Brussels, as an aside, is a very cool city. I can't imagine that you would be able to have an action-packed week there, but for a weekend of Moulles, fine Belgian beer in copious quantities, and restraint-impairing chocolates I can hardly think of anywhere better. I also dined on the best and poshest chip and sausage sandwhich over which I have ever cast my eyes, in a place called Fritte Paradise, or something similar. Fritte as in Pomme Fritte, meaning chip (in french, I think).

Fans of dance music might also be surprised to hear that I heard remarkably cool sounding electro pumping out about the place, everywhere that I seemed to trot. There also appeared to be a number of impromptu outdoor dance events happening on the Saturday night - somewhat random, but tres cool. Mmmmhmm.

What else, what else? Oh yes, Labour conference!

Well what an experience that was. It made me realise how comparatively clueless I am about British politics as compared to the Oz situ. But it is also quite interesting to be told after the fact that you just brushed shoulders with a cabinet minister without realising it.

I scored possibly the best deal possible in terms of a conference - as an international guest (and hilariously, sole rep of the ALP!) I had invites to all the wicked international events as a 'sister-party' member, and rubbed shoulders with the PM on a couple of occasions (well as much as you can when you have his security entourage between you and he) and was also lumped in with all the random foreign dignatories who were invited - i.e. Ambassador's and High Commissioners from here there and everywhere. My Belgian counterparts and I had a good laugh on several occasions as we couldn't believe our luck!

The PM's speech was a highlight, obviously. I didn't think it a flawless performance, but it certainly did many things on many levels, and was an impressive feat of speech writing. The Q & A session for international guests with 4 cabinet ministers present was another highlight. We had the Foreign Secretary, Development Secretary, Home Secretary and the Defence Secretary all together answering whatever was thrown at them. Intriguing and impressive.

People who call the Cabinet here a brat-pack are seriously underestimating the intelligence of these people. I wish the ALP had comparable talent to play with.

I also attended several very interesting fringe events, which are basically seminars put on by NGO's and think tanks debating every topic you could possibly imagine. I am such a nerd, and I have given up denying it, but I particularly enjoyed a debate on whether 'individual aspiration kills communities'. I could write another entire post on that session, but basically, I was interested to see entirely different conclusions drawn to what I was expecting.

But after the speeches were finished and the fringes over each day, the real fun began. Free receptions with plenty of wine on hand, and plateful's of fried finger food to soak it up. Hobnobbing, chinwagging and stumbling ensued each evening, with the inevitable plod home through the rolling curves of the Bournemouth coast to my hotel.

Anyway, conference was a great experience, and I hope to wangle my way in somehow next year. I shall spend some hours sitting at the desk in my new room, tapping my fingers together in a Mr Burns-esque way, plotting my return.

And it is going to take hours of plotting, because I have a new job. Same firm, but a step out of immigration and into a role that is going to entail a fair amount of travel to Eastern Europe, a bit of hobnobbing and chinwagging (hopefully sans cheap wine) and obviously, some legal work too. Very exciting, and starting in 3 weeks.

Finally, and least importantly, as many of you are obviously aware - it was my birthday a while back. I have reached the inglorious milestone of a quarterofacentury. Bleurgh.

So, though this has been a slightly lengthy apology for my lack of output, I hope that it has been worth the wait. Sadly, probably not.

Don't forget the photostream for associated pictures!

Unabashed Gloating

2007-10-01T16:18:00.000+01:00

I was on the Eurostar to Brussels when I found out that the Power had lost the GF by an unprecedented margin. And I have to say, it was with outright glee that I read the SMS from Aunty Mel telling me so.

Sucked in Power.

Anyway, I have been pretty slack on here lately, and I apologise to my loyal readers (mainly my grandparents I think).

I am leaving Brussels tonight, bidding my Dad adieu for now, and then Mum is helping me move into my new place tomorrow. She leaves the following day, and so ends a whirlwind trip!

I have lots to write about Labour conference which I went to last week - was wicked. But I cant do it now so until later.

Bye bye!

Beady Eyed Early Morning Hard Core People

2007-09-08T15:28:00.001+01:00

Beady Eyed Early Morning Hard Core People
Originally uploaded by adelvice.

Well, up there with the weirdest things I have done in London thus far, this morning I woke up at 4.30 am after two hours sleep, and headed down to notorious antipodean bar the Slug at Fulham to watch the Crows.

So random. Pity about the result. It's very irritating being in close quarters with the supporters of the victor right after you lose, that's for sure!

But even more random was the fact that a) there were about 100 people thereat 5am in a pub NOT serving alcohol to watch the match and b) I bumped into two people I knew! One was a guy I worked at Woolies with back in the day, and the other was my old upstairs neigbour in Norwood. So strange!

I now feel sorta sick as my body is a bit confused about whether it is day or night - I have slept most of the day y'see!

From L-R - Leigh, Me, Neegs, Geoff.

2007-09-06T18:28:00.000+01:00

Just saw the Chaser's prank on CNN.

Hahahahahahahahahahaahahahah.

Have been off work sick today, am feeling a little hyperactive. Have spent the entire day internet shopping!

Yawn.

Hellenic Holiday

2007-09-04T21:37:00.000+01:00

Somewhat depressing is the fact that I am writing this post, 6 days after getting back to London, but that it feels like I have been back in this tube-strike-ridden city a lot longer. (Yes there is a tube strike - it took me 3 hours to get to work this morning - and yes, I did want to cry when I finally arrived). The fetta has finally left my system. Just.

No matter. Greece, in case you haven't worked it out, was awesome. It is one of those destinations that I had been imagining going to for so long, that when it actually happened, I had to pinch myself to confirm that yes, I was actually there, and yes, it was actually as beautiful as I had imagined, if not more so.

I flew overnight, on a bizarre short-hop which I coped unexpectedly well with, especially given that the crazy Greek air hostesses insisted on gallivanting up and down the fully lit cabin the whole time.

I ferried out to Ios to meet my friend, and found the ferry ride excruciating, as I had barely slept and couldn't get to sleep in the smoke-filled cabin (aaaah Europe - liberation for hamstrung British smokers). But I wasn't disappointed when I arrived. The view from the hostel was divine and in London would be well out of my price range, but not in Ios, ohhhh no.

After a dip in the sparkling jewel-like Mediterranean (beware - it is so salty it makes bleach blonde hair like a haystack) I essentially headed straight for the pool, where I commenced tan-o-rama, drank some beer, fell asleep in the sun. By coincidence Kevin Yost was playing a set there that evening (some of you may know him??) and so as day turned to night, fabulously attractive Europeans of all stripes danced in their bikinis, boardshorts, and if they were Spaniards of the male variety, their alarmingly brief speedo-style jock bathers.

Dinner was a late one, cut prematurely short by my rapid-onset comatoseness, brought on my 2 hours of sleep the previous evening, sun, and beer.

The next day the routine was repeated, without the alcohol as we had to ferry over to Santorini in the afternoon.

A note on Greek ferries - they are often cancelled, and as we discovered, you don't tend to find that out until the last second. Handy. Nonetheless, we got there in the end, only a couple of house later than planned.

The hostel in Santorini was awesome - tucked away right near the main strip - close enough to revel, far enough to be able to sleep afterwards. Santorini is in one word, breathtaking. It is beautiful in that 'yep (long exhale) I'm in the Greek islands' kind of way. Whoever decided to build towns into the side of cliffs before scaffolding was invented was a total madman, but equally, a visionary. The sunset from those cliffs, as those of you have viewed my pics will know, is heart-meltingly beautiful. Pity you can't get a decent glass of wine to drink as the sun goes down.

A note on Greek wine - don't drink it! ;-)

Pottering through the streets of Fira and Oia was a total treat. I tried to get some pics to capture the spirit of the thing, but I failed really. Must be experienced to be understood.

So, I took a few miscellaneous notes (thankfully as I would have forgotten these things).

Caffe Freddo - delicious split-level espresso coffee concoction - drunk cold & sweet. Heaven.

Body consciousness - if only all women had the confidence of European women. Watching them swan about in all their imperfect glory - not only makes you think that they ARE perfect but rubs off on others less confident. Four days surrounded by that even made me forget about my little pot-belly, wobbly upper arms and a bit-too-solid thighs. I've obviously remembered them again now that I am home. But as I am a proud new member of the gym opposite work, wobble no longer shall I.

Angry Greek Men - my tried and tested travel technique is to , when i am unsure or lost, smile sweetly, speak in a slightly higher voice than normal and look as innocent as possible. It doesn't work on Greeks.

A note on Greek male restaurant owners- don't make jokes with them as you sit down to one of their tables. I was forced to gulp down a plateful of marinated calamari feeling like a naughty schoolgirl for trying to apply the above technique, and, god-forbid, attempting a lame joke.

So there you are. You can blame brevity on tube-strike-induced fatigue. Happy to put travel-agents hat on for those of you who want to ask questions, and are contemplating a potential visit.

Mum gets here soon.

I am house-hunting.

Work is weird.

Greece was tops.

Back from Greece

2007-08-30T00:15:00.001+01:00

Kevin 07
Originally uploaded by adelvice.

I ran up the hill to the Acropolis today in the little time I had in Athens (which fortunately unlike the rest of mainland Greece is NOT burning) to do my bit for democracy in the birthplace of democracy.

Will try to do a Greek Islands post before long.

Click on this pic to see more newies!

Pigeons

2007-08-11T20:23:00.001+01:00

Pigeons
Originally uploaded by adelvice.

From my lunchtime vantage point.

Steps on the Path to Becoming A Farmyard Animal or, London! Just Add Sun!

2007-08-11T18:19:00.001+01:00

Something cool happens in London on sunny days.

It is as though people conspiratorially throw a glance of each shoulder, tilt their chin to the sky and with their eyes dazzled by the sunshine, shrug their shoulders in unison and agree to be far less uptight than usual.

Consecutive weekends have brought clear days with temperatures in the mid to high 20's, and like a sheep trotting along behind the herd I have lapped it up, even sinking to depths which I would never have admitted to a few short weeks ago; that is, in a mini-skirt and singlet last Sunday I settled in on a park bench in the gardens up the road and read Harry Potter until my skin changed colour.

Today has been another one of those days- temperature wise I mean. And with Frilly away for the weekend and friends busy doing other things, I decided to have a slightly self-indulgent, almost touristy day out.

And so it was that after a nice sleepy lie-in, I got up and did some washing, swallowed some cheese & vegemite on toast, walked to Earl's Court tube and headed over to the biggest book shop in Europe - Waterstone's at Piccadilly. It is one of those big old book stores where you can sit in a big comfy chair and read for as long as you bloody-well like. And nearly two hours later, I walked out of there, arms-full, purse lighter, with three books and a gift.

A pal had tipped me off that just next door was a place called the Japan Centre which is, I think, a rather unimaginative name for what is in essence, a one-stop purveyor of everything Japanese right in the West End! They have handicrafts, books and all that kind of thing, as well as a ground level restaraunt dishing up what looked like delicious, reasonably-priced Japanese nosh (the place was packed!) and a lower-ground with a fresh sushi stand, as well as such treats as "Pocky". I grabbed a few bits and pieces and a tray of delicious fresh sushi (for a startlingly cheap 3 pounds or so) and plodded down Regent Street, Haymarket and (I think) Pall Mall and ended up in a packed Trafalgar Square to eat my lunch!

I was on a patch of grass out the front of the British Museum, which was a perfect vantage point for the fountain and monument, as well as to watch tour groups of various ethnicities undergo the indignity of having bird seed sprinkled in their hair, having photo's taken in awkward looking poses and with uncertain smiles allowing pigeons to perch all over them.

Hehehehe. Funny. See my photo's on the photostream.

After finishing my lunch, and being unable to find a bloody bin (damned hard to find at the best of times in this city due to I suppose, security-related reasons) I dropped my rubbish in the trolley of one of the maintenance-y looking blokes who hover around the Square, and then walked up St Martin's Lane to Covent Garden for a spot of, ahem, shopping.

My regular readers know doubt saw my sarky little post of a few days ago about my imminent trip to the Cyclades Islands in Greece to meet a friend. And I have to say, all the things that I always thought seemed a little foreign about British holiday culture, that I had picked up here and there from various magazines and television shows, are starting to become crystal clear.

The imperative to purchase new items of clothing, for example, has had my heart pumping as I scour the sale racks for 'that' perfect summer dress that shall see my (I hope) sunned self, tracing a path through the streets of Santorini.

I think this is quite an ingrained English thing, such that, editorial in fashion magazines contains lines like 'this crisp linen mini-dress will take you straight from day to night on your Mediteranean summer holiday'. An astute antipodean reads between such lines and sees the truth: 'Let's face it, British weather is so unpredictable and frequently dismal that you are NEVER going to be able to wear a crisp linen mini-dress anywhere here, except perhaps on one of those three warm days that we are expecting this summer. Conclusion- buy it for your holidays.'

Again, this bleating sheep, this oh-so conformist follower of herds, bought not one but TWO mini-dresses today for her mediterranean holiday, albeit that neither of them are crisp white linen.

But I digress. The difference between previous "garment for holidays' purchasing I have done and this new variation on the theme, is that I am highly unlikely to ever wear either dress in London, and certainly nowhere north of here! My holiday clothes shall sit waiting for holidays!

Aaah such extravagance.

I have realised, in other news, that in an administrative oversight I have forgotten to tell you about the theatre that I have seen here thus far.

My first excursion was to The Old Vic to see a great production of Gaslight a play that I vividly recalled my father in, when I was a lot younger. Tracey and I saw it in the middle of the "great deluge" (also known as the period of summer which included the video that I made of the hail for a previous post) and were upgraded to better seats, far away from the leaky drip-drip of the rain weedling in through the gaps.

Second excursion was organised by Frilly, and was to see a brilliant contemporary ballet production of The Car Man, which was (I am told) loosely based on Bizet's Carman, of which I knew nothing. I was in awe at the ability of the dancers to tell in detail a sordid tale, without ever uttering a word.

With Kim coming to visit me in a couple of weeks, I am planning the next theatre trip and I am currently tossing up between Avenue Q and In Celebration which is a play that Orlando Bloom is currently in..... Anyway, it is almost redundant to point out the abundant choice in entertainment here - musicals, plays, ballets every night of the week. Sigh. Sometimes I think that I could easily become a lady of pure, unadulterated leisure. ;-)

Ok, well that is enough for now. I am having a Saturday night in and am rather excited about it. A book, some stir fry and possibly a Monk (the drink) or two. Until next time, adios.

Sojourn

2007-08-06T21:58:00.000+01:00

In three weeks I am going here and here.

Are you jealous, are you? Huh, HUH??!

The Tuesday Funk

2007-07-31T22:00:00.000+01:00

Not funk as in funky. Funk as in rut.

This is now the third Tuesday night where I have felt a little bit miserable. The previous two were possibly hangover related from the weekend, but this week my main reason is that I caught up with a friend of my brother's from Adelaide who has been stuggling for 18 months to get back into Australia to see his daughter. And essentially for him, it has been a little bit like pushing the proverbial up a hill.

I am now going to help him get his application sorted and submitted, and fortuitously, having now entered my third week working in the immigration team of a certain law firm, I kinda know a bit about what is wrong with his application as it stands.

Nonetheless, feeling a little (a lot of) empathy for his situ, I was ready to ball my eyes out after seeing him tonight, and I am not even the one who hasn't seen my daughter for 18 whole months.

The Tuesday funk generally ends on a Tuesday, luckily, so tomorrow I will re-read this post and think I sound like a whining loser. But right now, as I enjoy balcony-time and red wine, I thought I would give you a glimpse of my decidedly grey mood. I am sure it makes for thoroughly joyous reading.

Some goodish news brewing, is that after being fairly well mucked around by a particular recruitment agency who dazzled me with the lights of a cool job in Canary Wharf (as previously mentioned in an earlier post), I have tickled and talked my way into an impending short term contract with the afore alluded-to firm which will see me propl'y qualified as a proper solicitor. Lalala. But having yet to see or get a whiff of the contract, I have learned a little lesson about counting chickens etc etc etc.

For those of you who like my soap-box philosopher rants, I have one brewing about my observations of class divisions and money in this lil ol town, but I am musing over it, because my opinions are currently a little ill-formed. I think.

Am reading quite ardently, two books at once. A serious brain-food book on the tube, and Harry Potter at night. It is rather delightful to spend around 90 minutes a day reading. As such, I am becoming quite fond of my daily commute. Althought, I confess, my new habit of reading a book, no matter how packed the tube, has reduced my capacity for observing those around me.

I can however smell them from time to time. Particularly on warm days. Like today. ;-)

BTW - there aren't very many bugs in London. Just something I have noticed.

Cheese

2007-07-18T21:59:00.001+01:00

More Cheese
Originally uploaded by adelvice.

I am just posting this picture to make the blog look a little more interesting. (This was at the Borough Market on Saturday).

The post below is what you should be reading.

Solubility

2007-07-18T20:32:00.000+01:00

Every day when I walk down the street, catch the tube, watch TV, go to the supermarket, i see loads of things that I would love to write on here - little gems of mini-humour that amuse me no-end. Sadly for all of you, I can never remember them, no matter how much I try and deliberately commit them to memory!

People who have lived in London bear with me, the little insights that I do manage to recall and that I present as my own probably have no whiff of originality for you, and I recognise that they are a bit over-exuberant and self indulgent. But while it's all new I am unapologetic, because my eyes have already started adjusting to the lights of this old town.

I haven't written nearly enough about the tube, and every day I have to stifle laughter for one reason or another when I catch it. The moment I stop being amused by tube body language and my own crazy tube thoughts, I will know that my sense of humour has dissolved and/or I have become the most cynical type of London public transport patron.

It struck me today as I eeked out my path along the District and Circle lines to Barbican station, that every tube ride sees me having numerous conversations in my head. I also tend to imagine what other people are thinking about those around them.

Last Friday night as I caught one of the last tubes back to Earl's Court from Putney, I was alone, observant and a little inebriated having spent the afternoon at the Coat & Badge with some newly arrived pals. There was a bloke of about 26 with a carton of beer in one arm, and a big packet of hot chips under another. He was handing out the beers to whoever would take them, mainly young attractive girls who looked about 17. The dialogue going on in my head at that point was something along the lines of "oh god, please don't roll one of those things at me" given that I was by myself, and probably not particularly able to string a good deflection sentence together.

Ok, so that wasn't one of the most amusing or witty conversations that I have had with myself, but I was tired, full of beer, Pimms (heaven in a jug with cucumber for good measure) tarragon chicken burger, and confused about certain happenings on a certain Putney Bridge.

Today on the way home from work, I moved seats to try and get a bit of space ("Hmmm - a vacant double seat - I can read my copy of London Lite without having to give myself elbow cramps") and at the very next stop a bloke got on and sat right next to me, therefore defeating the point of moving in the first place ("Oh great one Del, draw unnecessary attention to yourself by moving, and then pick the seat where someone sits down straight away.") And then a brief pause..... ("What the hell is that smell? *Subtle sniff* Ok, don't vomit, it's just unwashed clothes, mixed with stale tobacco and alcho-breath. Nothing too offensive.") A casual sideways glance.... "is it a hobo? no it's a man in a suit. *internal grunt & snicker* Oh you fool, you've just inhaled air from his pongy aura".

Even slightly more amusing is the conversation my two selves enjoy when a good-looking man boards the carriage. "Go on give him a wink" says the 5% of me that would ever dream of doing such a thing. "Keep your head down and admire tactfully from afar", says the dominant, sensible, astoundingly Virgo 95%. That fraction always wins. Sigh, if only I were a Gemini.

Now the only reason I can think that I have all these strange little conversations is because of the acute silence on the bloody things. In fact, the only people who speak on the tube are those who speak a language other than English, and (unsurprisingly?) Americans, usually in family groupings. Today when I asked a slightly infirm woman if she would like my seat, she initially looked at me like I had poked her in the rear with a pin, until she realised that I was actually offering to give up my little luxury and stand the rest of the way home rocking on my uncomfortable stiletto heels, for HER BENEFIT.

Anyway, this is just one short instalment in my tube adventures. There will, I can assure you, be more.

BTW those of you who previously read my blog when I was living in Jakarta will know of my penchant for Project Runway, the fashion designer reality show, and I have one eye on it right now as I am typing this. Which is timely, as the commercials have reminded me of something else - the fact that I suppose in an effort to not be London-posh-centric, commercials in and of themselves are oh-so-politically correct in that one will come on with a Welsh voice-over or a Jordy voice over or a Cockney voice over or what I like to call "miscellaneous-northern-sounding-but-not-quite-discernible-accent". I actually don't call it that at all, but you get what I mean.

And in my phrase of the week which I don't know whether makes me laugh or cry, an Irish lady in my current workplace came over to the desk next to mine earlier today and said "This fu**ing thing is about as tidy as a tinker's trolley". I need to practice my poker face, as when she saw my reaction she looked at me and winked. Naturally I was aghast.

Anyway, I am not talking about work this week. I am doing a short stint in a painfully boring role until the other thing is sorted (Government, pah!) and it is killing me. My brain is numb.

My final little self-indulgence for this post is to say a shout-out to the exquisite Ruby-Mae, my new little cousin who could not be cuter if she tried. Don't let her grow up until I come home.

Plethora of Things I've Noticed

2007-07-12T12:54:00.001+01:00

Well first thing's first - I am disappointed to report that the post about going to see Angus and Julia Stone was a little eager. I traipsed across town to Hoxton & Shoreditch to a little place called the Hoxton Bar & Kitchen only to be told the damn show was sold out. Fortunately Geoff came with me in the end, so I didn't have to sit there like an idiot, alone. The worst thing was that I reckon we were the only Aussies there, and the door bitches took sadistic delight in denying our entry. Cows.

Anyway I've been noticing silly little things and I want to write them on here now before I stop noticing them and they become normal.

So first thing is - apparently road helmets are not compulsory here. I am not sure why this bothers me, given that I am entirely disinterested in cycling anywhere, ever. However some seldom used neuron in my brain seems to remember a graphic advertising campaign when helmets were made compulsory in Australia. Something to do with a watermelon smashing on a road?? (Have I imagined this?) So basically when I am walking down the street seeing all these un-helmeted cyclists, they transform into a bunch of melon-heads on two-wheelers. Kind of entertaining. I just don't want to see anyone fall off.

Second thing is, unsurprisingly, the ongoing neuroticism about and obsession with, the weather. The entire first week I was here was miserable - punctuated with an absolutely divine weekend last weekend (I got sunburnt a little bit!) and even Monday was pretty good. Now, having grown up in Australia where wide open spaces are not an especial privilege (except if you live in inner-Sydney I guess) I cracked a chuckle on the street (strict no-no anywhere in the world i suppose -makes you look like a bit of a nutter) when I saw people in BIKINIS sunbaking on the Redcliffe Square Gardens just up the road. It is a common lawned area that is locked in the evenings, but when the sun was out, people were lying there catching rays. I found that absolutely bizarre. It seems unnatural (and a little brave) to me to lie scantily clad in a garden that is in full view of surrounding 4 story terrace houses.

But each to their pasty-skinned own i guess!

Some big news here lately has been the recent smoking ban. It is now absolutely illegal in the UK to smoke anywhere that is not completely outdoors. I have seen some amusing debates on the likes of Sky and BBC where they have pulled in a 40 a day smoker, croaking her way through the irritating consequences of the ban on her life, alongside a self-righteous loner who is happy that he will now be able to enjoy is solitary pint in smoke-free solitude. Hurrah. I must confess it was a weird novelty to get home last Saturday in the early-hours and not reek of smoke.

The other weird thing about getting home at 3.30 am, was that the sun was already rising. Now THAT dear friends, is damned hard to get used to. Especially since it is not properly dark until around 10.30pm. My jet lag (which was already fairly annoying) was made even harder to bear by my body's stubborn determination to awaken at 6am regardless of the time I went to bed. The benefits of long days however, are that, given the erratic weather, the longer the day the greater the likelihood of sunshine. (See I am starting to get fixated on the weather already!)

Running around here is not as easy as I would like - although once you get down to the river, the Chelsea Embankment is not a bad run. Unfortunately, I am out of running action for perhaps one more day as I have blisters on my heels, basically because I was stupid enough to wear new shoes when I walked to the shop. They hacked up my heels so fast it was astonishing. And given that I start work soon I don't want to aggravate them further.

Oh yeah, work. So I have a job. 3 month contract through a legal recruiter. Doing some hopefully interesting work with this organisation. ;-)

I am.....

2007-07-09T17:20:00.000+01:00

......GOING TO SEE ANGUS AND JULIA STONE TONIGHT IN LONDON (alone probably!)

Yayayayaya.

New pics on the photostream btw.

Three Virgo's Walk Into A Bar.....

2007-07-03T17:59:00.005+01:00

.....one says "let's make a list", the second says "well I'm going to have to be the one that writes it", the third says nothing and knows that he could do it far better than the other two. The third also orders some champagne.

I had a lovely dinner Monday night with Frilly and an old colleague of hers. We ate at a little restaurant - Tom's Kitchen - which is I think like a side-project of a famous chef. I'm sorry, I've forgotten his name but I assume it is Tom something...... Anyway, as it turns out - we were all virgos and had a relatively entertaining discussion (among others) about our shared traits. I wasn't attempting a joke with that first paragraph (well I sort of was) - but virgos in my readership will be amused I'm sure.

I ate a delicious grilled tuna nicoise salad, and consumed copious amounts of champagne, and suffered the entire day yesterday because of it. I actually did very little apart from sit transfixed as it HAILED in the middle of summer (as depicted in the video below).

Sunday night I popped over to an old school and uni friend of dad's place - who is now the Minister of State for Climate Change here. I hereby publicly vouch for his cooking - absolutely delicious - Thai Pork Chops and mushrooms. Yummmmmy!

Monday I had an interview with an agency who called me three hours later to offer me work (that didn't pay enough ;-) and then I had another interview that will potentially become work in September, once I have finished the GDLP requirements. So, things are simmering away on that front, happily.

Last night I caught a train with an old family friend, up to Cheshire and am currently writing this from his cottage. I had a lengthy conversation with him on the train about how, even though leaving Australia entails saying goodbye to for example, nice weather, great lifestyle, comparatively cheap cost of living etc - living in the UK brings new treats, such as being able to visit friends in 300 year old cottages. Yes, this house is older than post-settlement Australia.

People who have found me on Facebook (new addiction) will have noticed my current status which is "Adelle is in Cheshire, and coming to terms with the fact that living in the UK means that "weekends in Europe" is actually a phrase that exists." Yes people, I anticipate a short sojourn in Europe in the next four weeks. Honestly, the tickets are so cheap, and now with all the bombing plots etc people are a bit antsy about travelling. Not me!

My final thought for this post is on the terror stuff. I can't help but be rather envious of the way in which the Prime Minister and Home Secretary have chosen their words carefully on the subject - careful not to make statements that have the effect of demonising all Muslims. John Howard is probably champing at the bit for a plot to be foiled in Australia so that he can roll out his nasty, divisive, xenophobic rhetoric and claw his way back up a few points in the polls.

Political nuts might be surprised to hear that the NT Aboriginal Stuff has also made the news here -the mates I saw on Friday night seemed to know a fair bit about it, which was surprising.
Anyhoo, am jumping out of my skin as Kim is arriving here soon, and I get to meet Tilly (her daughter). Will put photo's on ASAP.

English Summer Hail

2007-07-03T17:37:00.001+01:00

English Summer Hail from adelvice and Vimeo.

Irony and Fatigue

2007-06-30T18:51:00.000+01:00

As I stated in the first post of this particular adventure, I am a devoted fan of discordant juxtapositions. Equally however, I am fascinated by irony.

In that context, you can imagine by current state of mind, given that after having just travelled through a country at war (Sri Lanka) my arrival in London was timed perfectly to coincide to a new wave of apparent terrorism, albeit apparently in an amateurish form .

As I sit now, I am watching Sky News about the Glasgow car attack which happened just a couple of hours ago. Rewinding back to yesterday, I was running a few first-day errands, one of which involved a visit to Piccadilly to pick up my bank card. I naively assumed, seeing a section of the Circus cordoned off, that someone famous was in town or that a movie was being shot. Imagine my surprise then, as I descended underground to jump on the tube back to Earls Court, at seeing a newspaper stand screaming the words "London Nightclub Terror Plot". Serves me right for not watching the morning news.

Anyway, can barely believe it, but not to worry. There's not really a lot to be done.

Meanwhile, London has been a blast thus far. Admittedly, I haven't done much, and my body is stubbornly clinging to abnormally early wake-up times whilst at the same time giving me mid-evening second-winds that keep me awake. So I have a growing sleep deficit, that I am determined to rectify this evening - I was mean to be training it out to Woking to catch up with family friends, but after packing my bag and getting ready to leave, sat down and fell asleep!

Other than that, I can't resist mentioning a weird thing that keeps happening, and I am dead keen to hear if anyone else has had this happen to them in a similar situation. Basically, as I have been walking the streets I keep seeing people and double-taking because they bear striking resemblance to people at home. It has happened about 20 times now and is completely bizarre!

Something else strange that happened today after I went out to find a salon that sold decent shampoo and conditioner (yes, dear friends know I am finnicky about hair products!) was that I popped in to subway to grab myself some lunch and was in the queue behind an Aussie guy who upon hearing my accent turned around and asked me where I was from. Turns out he and his mate were from Adelaide - a pair of Italian guys called "Johnny and Vince" who work in the Europa Cafe down at Glenelg. So I sat down and ate with them, because I suppose, there was no reason not too, and we had a good laugh. The idea of starting an "Adelaide Club" was mooted. Numbers were exchanged. They are heading over to Spain for the running of the bulls, so if they make it back in one piece, I expect we shall meet for beers. Random.

And finally, another, well not ironic, but somewhat fortuitous thing occurred last night. Many of you would have recieved the email with my contact details in the UK which I sent last night. (If not, let me know). Anyway, as I was winding down last night (immediately prior to the arrival of the "second-wind") I got a call from an unidentified male speaking in a relatively thick Sri-Lankan sounding accent. I interrupted to say basically "who the hell is this" - and after a bit of a laugh at the other end of the line, the mystery man revealed himself to be my mate Kara, who I met in Yogya last year. It turned out that he was at his girlfriend's place a mere 100m or so away from where I am staying. So we caught up for a beer (and a Monk - cointrea, soda and lime) at a pub in Chelsea called The Hollywood Arms, and reminisced on old times! Very pleasant!

Anyway, eyes are shutting and I want to get to sleep before bloody second-wind arrives! Although with about 50 channels of news to watch all this stuff unfolding, I'm struggling to drag myself away. The fact that it stays light until about 9.30 doesn't help either - and is probably adding to the confusion of my already befuddled body-clock.

Should have jobs update for you very soon. As I have managed to burn through a couple of hundred quid already ("establishment expenses!") need to hurry up and get one! Can you believe my dry-cleaning bill for my suit, two jackets and a dress was about $70??!!! Aaaargh!

Also, to the alcho's who called me in the middle of the Adelaide night to say hello - you made my day. Hehehehe. Bet your heads are thumping today.

Reading Balzac, Knocking Back...Lion Beer?

2007-06-27T07:09:00.001+01:00

Sunset on Beach
Originally uploaded by adelvice.

I wasn't planning on getting to the internet this early today, but a crazy Irish woman showed up at my hotel last night and has been causing trouble this morning - disturbing the serenity for me, the only other guest. All the other SriLankan's are saying she is absolutely nuts, and after a short conversation with her in which she managed to tell about 5 lies, I concur.

Meanwhile, with a belly full of devilled crab last night, I sat taking photo's, reading my Balzac book (am now obsessed with it - it's fantastic) and wrote these things (among others) in my little book of thoughts that I am carrying with me;

What do crabs eat?

How many people die each year at the hands (shells?)of falling coconuts?

Happiness is not a warm gun; happiness is a warm bed, a warm beer (sometimes) a warm belly (a full belly), a warm heart.

"There never was a truer saying than the most beautiful things in the world are a frigate at full sail, a galloping horse and a woman dancing." The character Eugene, "Old Goriot", Balzac.

"To do what you want is freedom, to do what you like is happness" - Anande, Manager, Lucky Dolphin, 23/6/07.

A rupee for your thoughts Madame? A rupee for my thoughts.

Jelly Legs

2007-06-26T10:21:00.000+01:00

Well, I knew I couldn't maintain my early pace for long and consequently I now have to catch you up on the last few incredibly relaxing days in one post. Fortunately (for me and my lazy typing fingers) I haven't been doing very much.

To begin with, it is very much low season here in Hikkaduwa. Which is fine in many respects - no drunk backpackers screaming on the beach, cheaper prices and no waiting anywhere. The downside is that the high, rough monsoon seas have taken a big bite out of the beach which is too rough for swimming, I stick out like a sore thumb, and there aren't many people to talk to about the place.

I have been therefore engaged in several activities which are entirely undemanding, being; sleeping, eating, reading, and ayuervedic treatment.

The first two are fairly self-explanatory. Eating here is good and cheap and because I am next to the ocean have scoffed down a variety of seafood. Also tried vegetable rotti today for the first time, which for fans of Indian food, is like a piece of naan bread stuffed with yummy vege filling.

On the reading - I just finished the book club book, "The Year of Living Dangerously" and am now left with a choice between Balzac or Shakespeare, which were the only 2 English language books I could find in a little book stall I came across. Heavy.

As for the Ayurveda - well that came about because I was looking for somewhere to have a massage - and came upon a clinic where there was actually a Doctor of Ayurvedic medicine. I ended up having a consultation, after which he prescribed me a 3 two-hour sessions of various treatments to re balance my chi or something like that (am being a little trite, mainly because I can't remember the name of what it is that needed to be rebalanced....)

So for the last three days I have been variously slapped, chopped, kneaded, rubbed, prodded, beaten with bags of milk soaked rice, given a facial and had my face massaged (definite winner for those of you who have never had that done) bathed in herbal water and given different energy tonics and herbal concoctions to swallow.

The best thing however was definitely the Shirodara which I was a little worried about at first, as it reminded me of Chinese water torture, but after half an hour of oil plopping on my forehead and running through my hair, I was asleep like a baby and very deeply relaxed. I left the clinic yesterday with my oiled hair wrapped in a weird cloth (much to the amusement of the tuk-tuk drivers on the side of the road as I walked back to my cabana) with strict instructions not to wash my hair until evening, and to "very relax" for the rest of the day. I read my book for about an hour and then fell into a total coma for three hours, at which time I could no longer stand the oil in my hair and ended up washing it and going out to find dinner. But I very much recommend Shirodara.

One thing that I haven't mentioned yet is that Hikkaduwa was one of the parts of Sri Lanka quite affected by the Tsunami. It is not as bad as some of the places up north that I saw on my way from Colombo (my driver pointed out one spot where an entire train full of people were wiped out - 1500 people in one 200 metre spot). On the way down here there were lots of signs along the road, indicating where various aid organisations and donations from countries have paid for regeneration. Hikka was nowhere near as bad as those places, but a lot of the people here lost their families and livelihoods.

Last night I chanced upon just about the only other Aussie in town, a guy from Perth, and after the restaurant we were eating in shut at 10, we took two Lion beers with us and sat on the beach, musing over what we would do if the sea started sucking out in anticipation of a killer wave. I am not sure what conclusion we ultimately reached, but I think it was something along the lines of "run into the jungle as fast as you bloody can". I wasn't too keen on the topic of conversation.

Nonetheless, am not worried - Nimal assured me that Tsunami's happen about every 200 years in Sri Lanka just to wipe out some of the excess population; "You see Madam, every few hundred years the earth get too heavy - like when you carry to many coconut in one arm and your arm tired - you dropping no? - tsunami it get rid of extra people so earth not falling out from sky."

Pristine logic no?

Anyway, have reconfirmed my flight for the next leg. (Apparently Sri Lankan Air are notorious for bumping you if you don't) - and now is time to face the next challenge - getting through Immigration in the UK without my British passport. Sigh. No amount of Ayurveda is going to cure my anxiety about that.

I will try and upload some more photo's - video even. Haven't taken many though - as I haven't moved very far out of the same 2Km stretch of road since Saturday.

Ok am going now - an ancient Sri Lankan lady who looks a little bit like she might be involved in the dark arts (i.e. be a witch) just extended her hand through the window, and I was too scared not to give her 50 rupees. I am sure she is perfectly fine and very nice, but there was something worrisome about that hooky little nose.......

A Cheeky Post

2007-06-24T14:53:00.001+01:00

View from Lunch
Originally uploaded by adelvice.

Just to make it 4 from 4 days - and to tell you that I have uploaded some pics of the trip so far for your enjoyment.

You know the drill.

Hikkaduwa

2007-06-23T12:07:00.000+01:00

Well I can barely believe it, but I have limped my way down the coast to Hikkaduwa and wouldn't you know it, the sea air has breathed some new life into my still-hurting throat.

My hotel, The Lucky Dolphin, is run by a dutch guy and is impeccably clean, very cute, and damn cheap. So ner mum! You CAN a decent room for 20 bucks a night.

I am mainly blogging today for the benefit of Uncle Daz, because he asked before I left to have cricket related tales relayed to him and I can't leave this one out. (As a side point, what is with the recurring cricketing theme of the journey so far?!

Once again the present story involves Nimal, my driver.

As we were leaving the airport and he was sussing me out so as to try and sell me his driving services, he asked where I was from. This has happened a number of times now (usually blokes asking) and when you say "Australia", they ramble off all the cities that have cricket grounds, and when they get to "Adelaide" and I say "yes", the inevitable answer is, "oh, that's a very famous cricket ground, Adelaide Oval" (sounds funnier if you imagine it said with a Sri Lankan accent - like Indian basically).

So Nimal launched into this tirade, "Well your country, you beat my country in world cup. Australian is cricketing King. Sri Lanka, we only come second."

"But that Adam Gilchrist, he is no good man".

To which I responded "Really, why do you think so?".

"Oh you know, he play with the ball in his glove and he wrecking the ball during world cup. He bad man."

Now I knew nothing of these ball tampering allegations whatsoever. So I was a little incredulous, and was sitting there musing over it when Nimal begrudginly said;

"Don't get me wrong, Adam Gilchrist, he is the "Master Blaster", but he no good man, he playing with ball."

Did I hear Nimal correctly? "Excuse me?, I said.

"Oh you know, Gillie is the Master Blaster. He is bloody good player."

I am not sure this comes across as funnily in print as it did in person, but my goodness, I had to bite my fist not to wet myself with laughter.

Its really hilarious, that Cricket is the cultural reference point for me and the bulk of the Sri Lankan populace, given that I generally loathe the Australian team. Nonetheless, it is nice that EVERYONE has heard of Adelaide here, if a little weird.

Meanwhile, all my male friends beware - I have merged you into one man and create a mythical boyfriend of you, just to keep people off my back when they ask if I have one. Don't ask which traits I have taken from which friend.....

Ok, have befriended and Irish lady here in the net cafe and invited myself to join them tonight when they are having drinks. Not going too hard, given my ongoing affliction (bought antibiotics today - that was amusing in itself - an ancient Sri Lankan man insisted on talking to me through a microphone that the whole pharmacy could hear, even when I was standing directly in front of him!) but will be nice to have a beer.

Okey. I believe thats three for three. (In some people's language I believe that is in fact called, a hattrick!)

All I (Don’t) Wanna Hear Is The Message Beep

2007-06-22T16:12:00.000+01:00

Leg 2. Started in KL as you know. After a weird night in the airside hotel, checked in this morning (4Kg overweight and thank god they didn’t check my hand luggage!) and boarded my Sri Lankan airlines flight about half an hour after scheduled departure.

Apart from myself there were 3 other non Sri Lankan or Indian women on the flight, and the plane was about 70% men.

I am yet to work out whether it was blatant disregard for the authority of the air hostesses or blatant disregard for their own safety, but it became apparent as the plane flew into land, that very few of the idiots on board the flight with me had actually switched their phones off when they got on the plane, and so I (and my fellow rule-abiding passengers) were struck by a cacophony of message beeps just as we hit turbulence on our way down.

The guy sitting next to me, who I idiotically had pinned as a nice quiet Indian man (especially since he reacted so placidly to my spilling half a cup of disprin on him), turned out to be a dirty rotten mid-flight texter. I couldn’t believe the audacity of the man to sit there sms-ing (Probably along the lines of - ‘Yeah, coming in to land now bro, see you in 20….”) , when my unhappiness at the whole situation was palpable.

After getting caught in the disembarkation stampede, I followed the steps of my Lonely Planet guide to the letter (look for information desk in arrival hall 1 – ask for price of taxi – go to arrival hall 2 - engage taxi driver), only to find myself standing like piffy at the front of the airport with no taxi’s in sight (“Madam, they aren’t allowed in here anymore for security reasons”).

Cue the entry of my new friend Nimal. I couldn’t even haggle him down 50 rupees, but was getting sick of standing there, and so agreed to pay a premium price (don’t ask) to get taken to my hotel. Now Mr Nimal is like Encyclopaedia Sri Lanka and I certainly made sure that I got my money’s worth from him on the way to my hotel. He even stopped to pick me up a sachet or 4 or a herbal remedy that he assures me will assist with my sore throat and bad chest. Meanwhile he was rescheduling my entire trip to Sri Lanka for me – taking me up to the High Country as well as UNESCO sites etc etc etc. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that rain, hail or shine, I just want to be near the ocean, and so I am currently tossing up whether to engage his services tomorrow, pay about $60 to get to Hikkaduwa and risk the hard sell again or to just get a bus and pay about 1/20^th of the price.

Anyway, just had a forgettable meal in an unforgettably dowdy restaurant in my hotel – the only good thing about it was the wonderful views of the port, which is right next to where I am staying. I haven’t seen another Anglo face now since I left the airport, which is not something that I am unused to, but it’s just that when it has happened in the past I spoke the language.

I got a free upgrade to a deluxe room when I checked in (you get what you pay for, this place is OKAAAAY), and the concierge then rang half an hour later to ask if I liked my room and also to inform me that there is a nightclub in the hotel. Quite hilarious, but not for me right now. I am exhausted – my body is 4 hours out of whack – as well as sick still. My glands feel enormous – shudder.

Anyway enough melodramatic talk. Wow 2 days 2 posts. Can she maintain the rage????

Signing off from Lanka.

Do Eastern Europeans Play Cricket?

2007-06-21T15:33:00.000+01:00

Friends, you know that I love discordant juxtapositions, and my flight over to KL was no exception. I was stuffed in the back section of the plane with half of eastern Europe butted up against the Saint Peters College cricket team who are off on a 2 week tour of England.

Rewind a moment. As I boarded the plane, a very nice lady pointed out that I might want to dab my tear-stained face with a tissue, and when I looked at myself in the mirror, I thought that it had been very polite of her NOT to point out that I looked like a half-drowned swamp monster. When I took my seat, the man I was sitting next to was a little elderly, and could see that I had been blubbering, and in that reassuring grandfatherly way called me “good girl” every time I said anything, and “luv”, as only Aussies can.

He turned out to be the coach of the Saints cricket team – a man by the name of Neil Danzie, who played cricket for SA for 20 years, and was a state selector for 30 years. He was an absolutely delightful man, salt-of-the-earth, and kept me company throughout the flight (and I taught him how to use the inflight entertainment).

Anyway, cut to random plane full of Europeans. The whole row behind me were Albanians and then to my left and the front were Croatians. Those who saw me off at the airport, may remember the Albanians for such things as – having 2 screaming children (one who threw herself on the floor for a good 10 minutes as I was checking in!) The children did scream for a portion of the flight, however thanks to a good combination of Sudafed, Red Wine and Neil Young on my ipod I managed to ignore them, and ultimately befriended them (they gave me lollies – or “caramelle” in Albanian). They were only little after all – 1 and 2½ . The older one insisted on talking to me in her guttural accent that made absolutely no sense to me of course, but it was endearing. She won me over. I must be getting jelly-hearted in my old age….

Anyway, as I disembarked with Mr Danzie from the plane, the Saints boys all cheered him on (he threw his arm around me for good measure) and the little Albanian girls bid me adieu. I then realized that my bloody bags should have been checked all the way through to Colombo, as I had to do a dodgy at immigration and come all the way back out to the airport hotel having collected my bags (involved an intra-airport train ride and lots of stares – “Why has SHE got her suitcase on this side of immigration!?!”) It was one of those times where speaking a little bit of Indonesian (Malaysian) helped me to a) jump the queue b) get assistance and c) bend the rules. I knew that semester last year wasn’t wasted!!

So yeah, I am actually in KL in one piece, practically catatonic, throat swollen and very sore, in the airport hotel typing this on the delightful 1970’s bedspread, waiting for morning and wishing I had some Aspro Clear.

The first leg is complete.

Ze Adelaide Weekend

2007-05-28T02:32:00.001+01:00

Annie, Claude and I
Originally uploaded by adelvice.

The Adelaide weekend is over - and the debaucherous evidence is available on my photostream.

It was also the anniversary of the Yogya quake on Sunday. I was awake at the exact anniversary - approx 5.54 am. I can still remember it like it was yesterday. :-(

A Comment on Simple Pleasures

2007-05-01T12:41:00.000+01:00

In the last two days I have had two experiences which have given me cause for great delight.

One - walking down to the pub for Monday night drinks, watching the sun set behind moody clouds and between two buildings while listening to the bells from the Adelaide Town Hall ring for no apparent reason at 6.17pm.

Two - eating a gigantic juicy field tomato this afternoon while perched in front of my computer reading Crikey in lieu of a lunchbreak.

Aaaaah yes, the simple things in life are often the best.

I know, I'm a loser.

Xavier Rudd

2007-04-14T03:42:00.000+01:00

This probably breaks a whole bunch of laws, but if you click this link, you can see the 5 minute video of Xavier Rudd that I took at Blues and Roots. It is his song "Let Me Be" in full!

Generational Dilemmas

2007-04-09T03:04:00.000+01:00

So I promised a few more words about the Blues and Roots Festival before the week was through. I might not get these published until Monday, but I am writing them on Easter Saturday. Erina and I have been watching/listening to Live 8 all day at the shack, which is an interesting musical backdrop to discuss the importance and power of music as an instrument of change and engagement.

The highlights of last weekend for me were definitely Blue King Brown, and Ben Harper.

Blue King Brown are an excellent new Australian band who play an interesting mix of afro-beat, reggae and “worldy” sounding percussion driven tunes. Their songs are infused with political messages but the irony was not lost on me that I watched them play in the “*well known soft drink* live and local” tent.

That aside, the crowd got right into the “stand up and be counted” messages.

But – I am not sure if the songs are ever construed by the punters as the writers intend them. I wonder if the social commentators of today hit their mark?

Now to Ben Harper, who played one of the most inspiring sets I have ever seen. That guy is a very skilled musician and from my privileged viewing position about 10m from the stage, some of his songs took on a new meaning for me. The beauty of his music is that he writes wonderful songs about love, loss and heartbreak but also makes political statements about war, violence, corruption and so has the capacity to speak to anyone who will listen about whatever is on their mind. His political messages are subtle, but to me are about engaging with a system that won’t always engage with you, about the power that one person has to refuse to accept that the way things are is the way things must be.

As someone caught between two generations of politically apathetic peers*, these are potentially powerful messages.

“I can change the world with my own two hands, with my own, with my own, two hands”. I can engage, I can question, I can leave my mark but “please don’t talk about murder while I’m eatin’.

I worry that the punters, the people most likely to be listening to the messages, hear them not as words of motivation and messages of empowerment, but as excuses to disengage and to detach…. Using them as justifications to absolve themselves of responsibility for decisions made on their behalf by the governments they may have helped to elect, or to dismiss as lost causes the ongoing struggles of people around the world, and of those in their own backyards………..

“Policy and politics, it’s a drag – they put one foot in the grave, and the other on the flag”. And that is a lyric that links back to my previous post about inspiration and the ongoing quandaries of a surface dwelling existence – that lyric, it burns behind my eyeballs in those rare and self-indulgent existential moments …..

So, yeah uh…. Thanks to those people who wrote emails to me about the inspiration blog – even though there is only one comment on there, a few people took the time to tell me their thoughts, which was nice. And Erin your compliment did not go unnoticed (thanks – very kind) although obviously I am obliged to disagree with you. Hahaha.

*AM happy to take debate on this point, but I have decided that at 24 I am neither Gen X nor Gen Y, but a bit of both, Gen X+Y/2. Sound right?

Blues and Roots

2007-04-03T08:23:00.001+01:00

Enjoying a Bev and Sing
Originally uploaded by adelvice.

Just got back from Blues and Roots festival in Perth - it was absolutely amazing. Saw (amongst others) Wolfmother, The Waifs, Blue King Brown, Eugene Hideaway Bridges, John Mayer, Gomez, Ben Kweller and the master, Ben Harper. Also discovered a new artist - Piers Faccini - who was Jeff Buckley-esque and had the (slightly hungover) Sunday mid-afternoon crowd absolutely mesmerized.

I should get more thoughts about the festival on here by the end of the week, but in the meantime - here is a pic of Erina and I enjoying a bev and a sing to Xavier Rudd!

The Inspiration Void

2007-03-24T03:38:00.000Z

Sitting a few nights ago at a work function, which should have been one of the more rewarding things to pad out my working week, I was struck quite suddenly by two thoughts.

Firstly, as the speaker on the podium discussed the importance of professional mentors for young women who are trying to climb the ladder in what still is (sorry but it is) a man's world now decorated with the cacophony of competing interests tugging at the trouser legs of young women, it dawned on me that it is important in your professional life to have someone quite removed from your working situation, to mentor you throughout your career. It is a meritorious idea for a number of reasons. One being because in your workplace you rarely get the kind of g's up and pats on the back that spur you on and give you the confidence to push yourself that bit harder, and secondly, because of the intrinsic value of having the unbiased advice of someone outside the circle, who has your interests at heart, and, no reason to be anything except honest with you.

While I was sitting there contemplating possible mentor candidates for myself, I was thinking that my potential mentor would need to be someone who along with all the other things, was inspiring.

And then it hit me. I have been struck in an inspiration void since I got back from Indonesia last year. That is not to say that I haven't been inspired, but at work, disappointingly, I can't recall the last time that something struck me as exciting, inspiring and visionary.

I love ideas. I love thinking about them, talking about them, debating them. And I rarely have time to do any of those things. Or, when I do, translating that excitement into something tangible that I can put into practice is usually doused by the hum-drum ho-hum of the day to day drudge.

Playing catch-up is not innovative. Absent a big-picture, the piecemeal nibbling at ideas is not visionary.

But alas, that is where I am in my window-less office, working on stuff that is going to make a massive difference to the lives of the constituency it is aimed at, but nonetheless which should have been accomplished years ago, and for which, being associated with claimers of kudos, feels a little dishonest and the diametric opposite of inspiring.

So as I sat there glazed-eyed, listening to debate and discussion about *someone's* vision, I depressed myself almost to the point of having to clutch the table - panicked and white-knuckled. Where does one draw inspiration from such a bleak picture?

I find books and music are often the sources of great exhilaration, but rarely inspiration. You can chuckle behind your hand, spit at my feet, roll your eyes, when I tell you that one of the most inspiring books that I have read, was Paul Keating's biography.

For his multitudinous flaws, and occasional lapses of public front, Keating had and articulated with passion, a clear vision of the type of Australia that he wanted us to embrace. A vision that has in part at least, been recently banned from the dictionary of acceptable federal public service weasel words.

It is a little glum to think that any little flames that everyday things ignite, can be so easily extinguished by the sodden grey rag that is, ahem, reality. Slap, slap goes the rag. What's that you say? I am only allowed to think ahead until the next election? this financial year? until I decide to have children?

Of course, this is not the way I feel about life generally, but it is, I think, the peril of the worker drone. The 60 hour week, paper pusher – the 70 hour week billable unit machine – you name it. Absent leadership and inspiration, too easy it is, to bog on down in the day-to-day and forget or ignore, the ideas that make it worth it.

I am still trying to work out exactly what the point of this post is, apart from pointing out the frustrations of rudderlessness. And the ironic thing is that I have a rudder – one that is going to steer me on out of my office, the state and the country. Deh!

I am concerned that I always come off looking pessimistic, angry and defeatist on this blog when I raise this kind of issue – but you know I’m not. Things just niggle at me until I have to bring them up.

I am interested to hear what inspires you kids (and no, boozy nights out, fine food and wine, and the football don’t count!)

Sittin' Down Trackside

2007-03-14T11:44:00.001Z

Sittin' Down Trackside
Originally uploaded by adelvice.

I went to the races on the weekend! There are some pics on the photostream for your amusement!

Le Calendar

2007-03-02T05:19:00.000Z

In testament to our diabolical experiences with the opposite sex (noting that this is largely her idea - but one that I liked so have tacked my affiliation on to) my housemate(friend) and I are hereby accepting nominations for a calendar. Not just any calendar. Oh no.

This calendar is a special one - for all those special lads out there who make our lives that bit teeth-grittingly worse, frustratingly head-banging on wall, eyes upwardly, irritating.

Said Calendar possesses a name which many would find a little offensive - it uses alliteration, and that's all I am saying. For the purposes of this blog it shall be known as the "Man of the Year Calendar". One of those words is substituted for a rude one. One that I never say.

In an unanticipated flurry, the months are filling up faster than they can pass us by. Mr January was crowned way back in the first week of that month and Mr February almost dead-heated such was his competition. Mr March was already saddled with his title in February, with a runner-up snap, snap, snapping at his calendar-worthy little heels.

We could ruin their lives by publishing their names, so we won't. But I shall outline their noteworthy contributions to being COMPLETE AND UTTER UNFATHOMABLE GITS that so earned them their nom.

For services to saying nasty, nasty things in the throes of a break-up we have Mr January.

For excelling in thinking that being a B-grade celebrity is license to be an unprecendented ass - there is Mr Feburary.

And the honourable mention for February - for wanting to slap a label on things, and inexcusable confusion about crystal clear issues is Circa85 (that's his nickname that he doesn't even know about so we can use that one).

For excellence in jumping to conclusions, pursuing & then wigging out and changing his mind (oh, and being old) is the indomitable Mr March.

Closely followed by the snap, snap, snap of Mr "I Just Didn't Get The Feeling but I-shall-continue-to-send-you-indecipherable-mixed-messages" as his oh-so-worthy runner-up.

Been jilted, smited, irked, disrespected, badgered, chevied, tormented or vexed?

Submit your nomination for Man of the Year! The competition is depressingly hot......

In one way or another - still here...

2007-02-21T11:41:00.001Z

adelle mum and dad
Originally uploaded by adelvice.

This is a photo of mum, dad and I at my recent housewarming - just to show you that I am in fact, still alive.

Update on last month or so ..... hmmm - went to Melbourne for horrible college of law exams, work has been mental, had a couple of dates, housewarming party, becky's bling bling party. U know how it is.

Have been planning a contemplative, academic post for a while just haven't gotten around to it....!

Anyway here I am, still here, just....

Busride Patriotism

2007-01-16T10:19:00.000Z

Well, something very strange happened as I caught the bus home to my new house tonight.

Adelaideians will know that the Tour Down Under is about to start here - and tonight there was a warm-up event which amongst other things, blocked off the entire East-End and meant it took ages for me to get home. So anyway, there we were cruising along the road adjoining the Eastern part of the track, and suddenly the bus driver randomly pulled over. I turned off my I-Pod to try and work out why, and lo and behold the National Anthem was playing somewhere over near the track. At first I could barely believe that these two events were connected, but, as soon as the Anthem finished he turned on the engine and kept on chugging along.

I know that we should be deferential and respectful when the anthem plays and stuff, but seriously, does anyone else think that is excessive?

Well anyway, its been a while since I updated you on stuff.

I have moved to my new house. And 4 days after I moved in, Erina headed over to LA - and I leave for Melbourne for a fortnight the day she gets back. So we won' t see each other for almost an entire month! C-razy.

The new place is good, but having been the oldest of four children, I must say I am thoroughly unaccustomed to arriving home to an empty house. All of these new experiences like cooking every night, washing clothes, cleaning etc etc - of course I have done these things before - but my very survival has not been contingent on me doing them! Hehehe, I sound like a spoiled brat. I'm not I have just been fortunate to have a mum who mothered me longer than many do......

Watering the garden is a chore that causes me massive guilt. People outside of Oz may not be aware that here in Australia we are currently in the midst of a massive drought with water restrictions to boot. No sprinklers are allowed, except on your allocated day on the weekend - and you are only allowed to water on weekdays with a hose before 8am or after 8pm. I water on Erina's behalf for maybe 5 minutes and live in constant fear of someone peeping over the fence to put me on a guilt trip. :-( And the ironic thing is that I have had disputes with my own father about his garden-watering habits...!

In un-water related news - I just watched Alicia Molik's Australian Open match and I have to say I am a massive fan. She seems like a cool chick. Much respect 'Licia! In fact, I am even thinking of maybe taken some tennis lessons........

New Year Bulletin

2007-01-04T11:14:00.001Z

a minute into new year
Originally uploaded by adelvice.

Well loyal readers, I am back for 2007. Had a fantastic week in Bali - having a lot of fun and not doing much at all (although you may be able to read between the lines in that I am now somewhat in need of a detox!). Was great seeing Alana again - and will look forward very much to hanging out with her in Adelaide!

I have uploaded a bunch of relatively self-explanatory pics onto my Flickr page, which I hope you will enjoy......!

Just moved into my lovely new place today with Erina - its in Norwood and so close to work. Very exciting, although a bit sad to finally "leave" home, as they say. Have almost unpacked everything, but am back to work tomorrow so am just chillin right now. I have got so much College of Law to catch up on it is sickening. I will have the house to myself for a fortnight though to catch up before I head over to Melbourne for exams. Crikey.

Right, well here goes my third year of this thing. It promises to be one where I yet again pull up my roots and float around like a hydroponic lettuce. Hopefully you will keep reading, even if I do get all green and leafy. He he.

Okies, Happy New Year kids!

A Good Year

2006-12-21T09:21:00.000Z

Well this may well be a little premature - but given that I will probably not have time next week when I am in Bali/Gili's to be writing on my blog- I have decided to publish my reflections on the year in advance of Xmas and going away.

Shit, its been a good year. One with ups and downs yes, but overall I feel like I have taken some big steps forward and its cool to think that I have done some of the stuff that I have done.

For a start, living in Indonesia was amazing. To have become at least reasonably proficient in another language is something that I have been wanting to do for a long time, and this year I managed it. And re-testing my skills next week is going to be fun!

The test of living in a country with a completely different culture taught me a lot about myself. And waking up after three hours sleep to a magnitude 6.4 earthquake definitely gave me a lot to think about, and I must say, it was an absolute privilege to work with my peers in that disaster zone. It is honestly true that extreme situations bring out the best and the worst of people, and I saw both.

Travelling around Indonesia was magnificent. Making Indonesian friends who were generous with their time and their friendship was also magnificent. Unexpectedly, I also made some great friends from around the world - I am thinking of Kenta from Japan, Kara from Turkey, Cal from Ireland and Sofie from Germany. They are people who I think I will maintain friendships with for a long time.

The wonderful family that I lived with in Yogya and their generosity with and tolerance of the mad Australian woman who sang at the top of her voice and came home at 5am.

Climbing mountains, visiting the biggest Buddhist monument in the world, singing in a band at a bar in Yogya, cheerleading at an inter-law firm soccer tournament in Jakarta, drift snorkelling in Gili Trawangan - all amazing experiences. I have to say that the time I spend at Borobudur on the day of the Waisak festival was remarkably spiritual, and beautiful. Possibly the most outstanding highlight of that 6 month period.

There has then of course been, the coming home. After freaking out about being unemployed, and what it would be like, and whether I would settle, I have to say Adelaide has pleasantly surprised me. I have once more fallen in love with Adelaide. It is going to be hard to leave next time, knowing that it may be a while before I live here again.

Rediscovering the single life (that I never really had before anyway) has been interesting. Starting my working life in a Minister's office has also been interesting. I am very lucky that I love my job, but perhaps it is easier to feel that way about work when you know you are leaving...... Nonetheless, I have tried to make the most of the opportunity I have been given there, and I hope to continue to enjoy work until such time as I move to the UK.

That was another epiphany this year - working in that law firm in Jakarta really taught me that I would not be suited to that kind of work, and gave me a nudge in the direction of further study. While my plans this year were foiled after my ill-fated tilt at a Fulbright, I still am very keen to do a Masters in International Affairs and continue to pursue my passion for international politics. How that will happen is something that I can hopefully reflect on this time next year.

But back to Adelaide. Discoveries and re-discoveries of the year have included Rocket Bar, Augie March, The Pre-Sets, Murakami Books, Morning Jogs, I-Pod (best purchase of 06 without question!!), The Monthly Magazine, Ann Mitchell, Ash Blonde, Special Patrol, Monday Night Drinks, Jill Scott, Ky Chow, Erina(!), Continental Toast, Double Macchiato's, Cinema Nova, online news and Itunes, MySpace.

My gorgeous group of friends have of course made the year tops- Alana (in Indo), Claudia, Kate and Becky, my brothers Sandy and Jonathon, and of course the baby of the family Gabs. And who could forget the weekend in Sydney with that mad woman Peta? I haven't seen much of her because of random circumstances (mainly - that we have both been variously overseas) but Shani has been a great support and I am glad to see her loving life. And who could forget Uncle Brad? He is outrageous & preposterous but with him life is never dull......

Habits I wished i could have broken - nail-biting, second guess SMS, never being able to stop at one chocolate, lack of discipline with money, day-dreaming, saying "dude", snapping at people, being slave to my hormones.

And with that I bid you adieu. Assuming that is in fact how that word is spelled.

To friends overseas Merry Xmas and Happy New Year - to friends in Australia the same. I hope that 2007 is as good to you as 2006 was to me. I'm not any richer, or any thinner, but I am happy, and a bit fitter, and my direction is a little more set.

And people, please forgive my self-indulgence - I am actually just putting my thanks out there into the Universe - because 2006 could have gone two ways for me.

And fortunately it was indeed, a good year.

My iPod Top 25

2006-12-06T09:40:00.000Z

I thought some of you might be interested in this...........

1) I Go Hard, I Go Home The Presets
2) Landed Ben Folds
3) If You Stay Special Patrol
4)Greatest Hit Annie
5) One Crowded Hour Augie March
6) You Never Give Me Your Money The Beatles
7)Andy Said Special Patrol
8)Humble Man Special Patrol
9) Paint Your Name Special Patrol
10) Golden Slumbers The Beatles
11) Funky For You Common
12) Just Mark Ronson feat. Alex Greenwald
13) Are You The One The Presets
14)My Sweet Jewel Special Patrol
15) She Came In Through The Bathroom Window The Beatles
16)Carry That Weight The Beatles
17)Eleanor Rigby/Julia The Beatles
18)Drive My Car/The Word/What You're Doing The Beatles
19)Jazzalude II - Defining Purpose Guru
20) In Your Head Special Patrol
21) Victoria's Secrets Augie March
22) Thin Captain Crackers Augie March
23) Peach, Plum, Pear Joanna Newsom
24) Down, Down, Down The Presets
25) My Friend Gorgeous George Special Patrol

Wow, there is a lot of Special Patrol in there.

Recent developments - I didn't get the Fulbright Scholarship after making it to the last stage. Kind of annoying. But I have decided instead that I will be moving to London in August next year. It is not yet a steadfast plan, but, one that has grown legs faster than I imagined. The 2 "Signs from London" were helpful in helping me to make the decision not to apply for Uni in the States at all. One was a call from Frilly, the other was a nice London lad I met on the weekend. A somewhat intoxicated member of the Barmy Army.

The 2 week date challenge continues. Can't believe I am even mentioning it on here. But it makes life interesting!

The Golden Mile?

2006-11-26T03:40:00.000Z

It is nothing short of remarkable to me that in two days time I will have been home from Indonesia for 4 months. That time has flown.

Just like the bird from the Beatles song.

Has anyone been listening to the remastered Beatles album by the way? "Love". I think it's great, but I do feel a little cheated that George and Giles didn't take the concept a little bit further..... so much good material to pump into the mix. Ah well.

Last night was a pretty run-o-th-mill-but nonetheless a good one- however, the meal we consumed prior to dancing was delicious. Taj Tandoor on Rundle Street. Definitely some of the best Indian food I have had in Adelaide. Or anywhere probably. Except for in Manchester perhaps - what is the name of that street again??? The Golden Mile or something??? Hmmm I can't remember. In fact I can barely remember eating there at all - I do believe it was about 2 in the morning that I sat down to a full meal there. Somewhat bizarre.

Senile, senile.

Nothing is really annoying me this week as much as it was last week. So I can't really stoke up the irritated-o-meter. I was slightly irritated tonight that I didn't get to watch a full episode of Project Runway tonight which is my fave tv show of the moment (possibly with the exception of Sex & The City Re-Runs) but that isn't quite on the same level as concern over natural justice and fair trials etc etc.

Bon Voyage brother of mine - whatever you do get your bum over to Europe or risk being beaten up by me when you get home!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Tomorrow is my first overnight work trip. I have to drive myself in a borrowed car to the final destination which is a little daunting. I'm not exactly a veteran of country driving....... shall try to remember to take photo's.

Okies.

Well cuz oh wondrous possessor of knowledge about HTML....!- if you could tell me how to line everything up so neatly as you do on your blog, that would be lurvely.

And that concludes another uninspired post from me.

A Lesson in Unfocusedness

2006-11-19T07:20:00.000Z

I have been attempting to come up with a theme for this post for several days, and haven’t been able to really come up with anything groundbreaking.

I was going to give you a list of all the things I have procrastinated from doing this week (college of law assignment, writing my admission essays for Uni in the USA, sweeping dust from the corners of my room ……)

I was going to give you a list of all the random cool things that I happened to do during the week (afternoon tea with Liberian Women’s Association, seeing a play at State Theatre, attending an Architecture exhibition on a whim and dancing with architects until the wee hours)

I was going to tell you all the things that annoyed me (the number of phone-calls it takes to connect a woman in crisis with the appropriate services, come here/go away boys with girlfriends, misogynist tour guides)

I was going to list some of the music that I love right now (The Presets, Special Patrol, the Mark Ronson cover of the Radiohead song “Just”)

But it’s all a little bit contrived!

One thing that is really annoying me at the moment is the thing going on with that sacked Minister in NSW. Regardless of what that guy is alleged to have done, everyone is entitled to be innocent until proven guilty, and to be afforded natural justice. And if you don’t agree, put yourself in that guys shoes and pretend you’re innocent, and then think about how much s*** you would now have to push uphill to demonstrate that fact. (And if anyone sees this as a tacit endorsement of sexual crimes, just try – that’s clearly not what I am saying).

It doesn’t matter what the crime is, or who the alleged criminal is, David Hicks, Milton Orkopolous, democratic societies were based on the right to a fair trial, and anyone who believes in those principles should be alarmed by the level of pre-judgement going on in this instance. People that have no idea what I am talking about should look here.

Rant rant rant.

I bought another Murakami book during the week (Hard-Boiled Wonderland….) it is yet to engross me, but I am definitely interested.

I am planning on going to see Ben Watt (one half of Everything But The Girl) in a couple of weeks, but he is on a couple of nights after Talvin Singh who I also want to see, and it might come down to a coin-toss.

Monday night drinks tomorrow. Another week of Parliament. Another weekend of dancing til my feet are covered in blisters. 5 weeks till Bali. College of Law assignments. Parliamentary Briefs. Community Cabinet. Wondering what my friends O/S are doing. 5 weeks till Bali again. 7 weeks till College of Law exams.

I really should stop writing in lists – it makes me sound sarcastic and bored, when right now I couldn’t be less so.

I have been tinkering with the blog format and will continue to do so until it is a little more spruced up. I am frustratingly limited by a lack of knowledge about HTML. Advice/mentoring welcomed…….and

Until a more coherent theme comes along.

Sampe nanti.

(Eeek - I almost forgot to say a big hello to my Granny - who debuted in the comments on the "habit" post - well done Gran!!!! and you were right! xxx)

We Weren't Just Bleeding Hearts.....

2006-11-09T08:02:00.000Z

Exactly!
Originally uploaded by adelvice.

....we were right!

is my blog still looking weird?

2006-11-08T07:35:00.000Z

apparently there have been gremlins eating my 1's and 0's and making my blog look weird - i am trying to resolve them.

The Frightening Force of Habit

2006-11-05T06:40:00.000Z

I freaked out a bit yesterday afternoon. I am going to try and explain why but you might not get it. I will try anyway.

I was dropping my sister off at a sleepover yesterday afternoon, and as I was turning out onto the mainroad (a road I have driven on a thousand times) I almost turned the wrong way as though I was going to drive back to my old house.

By old house, I mean the one that my family moved out of while I was in Indonesia, and, the house that I haven't been able to bring myself to drive past since I have been back in Adelaide. In that split second where I was about to make the wrong turn, I had a rapid series of thoughts which basically was along the lines of "imagine if I drove past there and parked in the driveway" how easy it would be to slip back into the routine of that old house. To go back to the different way my life was when I lived there.

That series of thoughts brought on a realisation that for some reason made me feel sick - like, human beings are so inclined to just slip back into any old habit, revert back to any old way things used to be, because it is easy to do.

My memories of that house are so vivid, like, which windows and doors the drafts blow through, which door handles are dodgy, where the light switches are for particular rooms, strategic positions for ignoring my parents etc etc.

And then moving to a new house you have to find everything out again. And it seems really annoying to have to do that, when the house before it seemed pretty much fine, and you have to focus on the reasons that you moved, as opposed to the things u liked about the house at the time.

What a random rant. Moral of the story being, I almost turned into my old street to see the house I haven't been able to look at since I got back. And the fact that I knew it would be so easy to do totally freaked me out.

If you don't get it, I understand. The force of habit has just been on my mind so much that I had to write about it, even if this doesn't make sense.

End of Ramadan

2006-10-25T04:47:00.000+01:00

minal aidzin wal faidzin

forgiving is the synonym of loving

that was a message i got from a friend in jakarta last night - i am pretty sure it is the salutation people use at the end of Ramadan. i am not sure that "synonym" is the best translation but i think the meaning is clear.

it is a nice sentiment.

does anyone have a better translation? i am speaking obviously to my ACICIS brethen and Indonesian and Muslim friends.....

btw - i am on my lunch break right now - hence why i am blogging in office hours.

Sparkling Vino

2006-10-24T11:10:00.000+01:00

Keith - purely for you -

last night was a Black Chook Sparkling Shiraz

it was good

packed punch - i got a bit of plum and vanilla - if i knew anything i would say american oak. great colour.

and for the rest of you -

i have been writing on this thing for a year now. and for those of you in adelaide there will be an unofficial get together in commemoration of my unmemorable rants. twas decided last night.

i am procrastinating, should be studying.

naughty i am.

and to those of you who just finished the fast - selamat idul fitri.

Silly Faces Party Dresses

2006-10-21T04:15:00.000+01:00

silly faces party dresses
Originally uploaded by adelvice.

This was after the party ended - downstairs at Cruze bar. And that is NOT my half sipped Vancouver Island cocktail there. Ooooohhh nooo.

All Good Children Go To Heaven

2006-10-21T03:56:00.000+01:00

Well it has taken me ages to write about the Sydney reunion. I had a good time, but the weekend was marred by some bitter tastes, and I didn't want to focus on them so I have waited.

It was wonderful to catch up with my 2005 Mitsui friends - Peta and I shared a room in the second night and she enjoyed laughing at my neuroticism in getting ready for the function! I had a good catch up with nearly everyone, a couple of people brought partners which was cool, and I think we all found it a little poignant in a way because it means that almost a year has passed since we took the fateful trip around Japan.

On the first night I shared a room with Danielle who went on the trip the year before me, and we had a good day on the Friday. A spot of shopping, a surf beach and a harbour beach, and some noodles in Hyde Park for Good Food Month all washed down with some lovely white wine at Martin Place Bar (not the classiest establishment of all time might I add, but the best we could do in the absence of a Sydney native to guide us).

On Friday we went to Darling Harbour and checked out the Japanese Matsuri that was on down there - see my photo stream for some cool pics, and Vimeo for a cute video of Japanese dancing girls. (Sorry I don't know the technical term). We had some lunch in the Queen Victoria Bulding and I picked up a nice pair of shoes! ;-) Then we returned to the hotel to prepare for the rather early-starting reunion.

Being an idiot, I didn't pack a hairdryer and having just had my hair lightened about 20 shades (!) was rather frustrated by the fluff effect that the pathetic hotel dryer had on my hair. Thank god for Peta who tamed the mane, crafting it into something moderately acceptable for a cocktail function. Skin moisturised, eyes lined, dresses puffed and lips coloured we cabbed it down to Circular Quay to the Green Room at the Overseas Passenger Terminal.

It was interesting to see the variety of people that Mitsui has afforded the MEF privilege to over the years. I didn't actually talk to anyone pre-2000 unfortunately -but there seemed to be an interesting mix of lawyers, diplomats, business people and academics there. The presentations from the past 4 decades were especially cool.

One guy who went on the tour in the 90's basically told the story of how Mitsui changed his life - he was processing refugees (read "illegal immigrants") on Christmas Island, strangely (or possibly not) decided that he wasn't exactly living a fulfilling existence and decided to quit and pursue his artistic dream. He is now an artist who paints stunning paintings of Geisha and other Japanese icons.

Kinda cool.

Anyway, long story short - Geoff Gallop was there - former Premier of WA and now Head of the School of Government at Sydney Uni - and I happened to mention to him that I used to know his son. He gave me the home number in Perth and told me to call him! Still undecided upon whether that is utterly weird.

After the function something very strange happened. Yogya friends may remember Robert, the bullshit artist masqerading as saviour of the universe with a heart broken by a Finnish girl but never fear he is going to solve homelessness and poverty in Indonesia and has an IT business that has made him very rich, but would never ever buy you a drink. Turns out that pathological liar is a cab driver who happened to pass my group on Macquarie Place with a vacant cab, but baulked when he saw me, saw his fictional universe crash down and made some excuse about having to go to Manly.

People are disappointing. Bitter tastes. I was pretty cut that two (I thought) close friends from Yogya who both live in Sydney didn't make the effort to catch up while I was there. One didn't even return calls or SMSs at all. That's nice.

I think I just expect too much from people.... like reciprocation of friendship. I must be crazy.

Aaarrgh that was the bitter note I promised myself I wouldn't end on.

In other news, I am working over the weekend because of bloody Budget Estimates, I have my exam next Saturday and I have to do well cos I am down to the last cut for one of my scholarships. So thats a happy ending for this post right there.

Monday Night Drinks

2006-10-11T10:45:00.000+01:00

All ye complainants about my dearth of artistic output on this thing, well, I should punch you all in the mouths for not commenting and thus not helping to propagate the cycle of positive feedback that keeps me motivated to produce.

Nonetheless.

It has been suggested to me by a pal that you might be interested in what has become a somewhat regular occurence in my life. In fact, to be precise, it has occurred every week since I started working, barring the public holiday.

Monday night drinks.

With fellow travellers Miss Maude and Uncle Brad, we stake out our little spot at a watering hole quite close to our respective places of work and engage in a few hours of errr, watering. In fact Miss Maude and I had tactily and over a period of weeks begun to work our way through the white wine menu (Tim Adams Pinot Gris mmmmmm - eyes glaze over) but Uncle Brad says no, we must drink Shiraz. This often results in tense words, gulped down with a tasty mouthful of tapas. Compromises often include Shiraz Viognier blends and Pinot Noir's. Don't get me wrong, I love a red, but I like to feel that my fellow drinkers are at ease.

I sound like a total prat talking about wine like this. But having lived 6 months in Indonesia without it, you can just indulge me awhile.

A special feature of Monday night drinks is "special guests". As the consistent attendees, Claudia and I have seen an interesting range of friends attend on at least 3 occasions now. Officer Cox, Mr P, Masters and the evergreen Philbo.

Last weeks special guest was Philbo - who was just home after four months at Summer Camp in the States. She had many a travel tale to tell, and clearly was rejuvenated and vibrant after delighting in the pleasures of "handles" of vodka. 1.5 litres in one o those thing if u don't mind!

Politics is a frequent feature of Monday Night Drinks discussion. Uncle Brad scoffed at me this week for declaring that Climate Change is an issue that could with the election for the ALP. But I told him to mark my words, he said he would write them down on a serviette. Let's just watch that one eh?

So I expect you will all be lining up for a guernsey to MND's now won't you. Yeah uhuh.

In other news, I have a sparklingnewcrown on my tooth. A little bigger and buckier than I had hoped, but at least it isn't grey.

And on that note, time to give my haemoglobin a kick with some red meat for dinner. Going to Sydders on the weekend for a totally radical weekend on the ermm wheatgrass so need to rejuvenate my cells before I go!!!!

Pirates and Wenches

2006-10-02T10:48:00.000+01:00

Pirates and Wenches
Originally uploaded by adelvice.

Maybe if I put more photos like this on my blog u will all comment.

Whats new?

Went to a party with the above theme on Saturday. Made the horrifyingly poor choice of drinking red vodka cruisers and paid dearly yesterday morning - sugar overload. Eurgh.

Last week bankrupted myself by buying a new laptop and Ipod on the same day. But I am so technologied up right now it ain't funny.

I currently have a false front tooth- preparations for replacement of "greytooth" commenced on Friday. So have a dodgy, wonky, badly colour matched front tooth. It is really attractive. No really, it is.

I have an interview on Friday for a scholarship and am learning in the other spare 5 minutes i have every day for my exam. Don't really have any peculiar vocab to share with you. It numbs ur brain after a while.

Life keeps chugging along. Going to Sydney for the Mitsui reunion in a couple of weeks, and I really cannot wait for that. It will be so cool to catch up with all my fellow travellers! Yay.

Might upload some more photo's in a minute from my birthday - but none of them are even remotely as interesting as Becky, Myself and Kate dressed as pirates and wenches. He he he.

I'm Old

2006-09-23T03:06:00.000+01:00

Well it was my birthday yesterday. Am thoroughly unimpressed to have shifted demographic into the mid-twenties range. Eurgh.

Yesterday was actually a pretty interesting day. My boss was hosting a National meeting of her fellow Ministers and there were some international guests from the Pacific invited.

I was entrusted with the responsibilty of collecting the Tongan Attorney General and her aide from the airport. Because of crappy planning by the Federal Government, I had to do som fast-talking and fast-rearranging to accomodate the poor visitors who unbeknownst to them were supposed to be joining a formal dinner after around 12 hours on aeroplanes.

Anyways, long story short, this woman is the first woman to be appointed to the Tongan Cabinet, and I told her how I was a (pretend) lawyer, and she said to me "We need young women like you in Tonga. You should come and work for me if you get the chance". I was like, "Yes Minister! Very well Minister, whatever you say Minister."

That is not one word of a lie - I have a job waiting in Tonga, should I lose interest in the current one! Hilarious! I told the Chief of Staff and the boss that they have to be nice to me all the time now, otherwise I might pack up and hit the Pacific.

Meanwhile, I sat at the same lunch table as the guest from the Solomon Islands. There are no women in the SI Parliament, but she is the highest polling woman ever in their most recent elections. She was really interesting to talk to. I have to pinch myself sometimes and be thankful that at least I am able to pursue the opportunities available to me, cos in places like SI and Tonga, they are stuck back where Western women were 70 years ago.

Well that's that then. Am busy learning vocab vocab vocab for the GRE that I have to take in around a month. It's the exam you have to take to get into grad school in America. I also have to revise all the irritating maths stuff that fell out of my head years ago....

Vocab examples:

Apocryphal - of dubious authenticity, fictitious

Germane - applicable, pertinent, relevant

Stentorian - extremely loud and powerful

Jejune - vapid, uninteresting, childish, immature

Welcome to my hell. :)

Obsessions

2006-09-21T03:57:00.000+01:00

I am obsessed with The Shins. Where have they been my whole life?!

Bol-bol-bollywood

2006-09-08T08:56:00.000+01:00

Well, am finished work for the day - but not for the week, because tomorrow the Bollywood film that is in production in Adelaide right now, needs to use my office balcony for camera work!!! So we need to do shifts "minding the office" and I am on the 10.30 to 1.30 shift. If it wasn't for a Bollywood film I would have been totally annoyed about working on the weekend, but it is so i'm not. And since it will likely overlap with the footy, I will be watching that here too, cos I ain't missin a minute! ;-)

More tomorrow - including pictures hopefully!

Hear hear

2006-09-01T07:21:00.000+01:00

John Howard is not known for his open-armed approach to "foreigners" (unless they have the initials GWB!), but today's comments about Muslims in Australia "needing to learn the language, and treat women as equals" are about the most unstrategic I can remember in recent times. Talk about dropping a bomb.

I think this article from Crikey sums it up very well.

4. Muslims aren't the only migrants in Australia who resist integration
Former Federal Liberal candidate Irfan Yusuf writes:

There's a tiny minority of migrants resisting integration. They don't accept Australian values, don't treat women as equals and won't learn English.

I know elderly Indian Sikhs who've lived here for decades but can't speak English. I know Lebanese Catholics who'd disown their daughters for marrying outside their ancestral village. They're a tiny minority. But they do exist.

So why does Mr Howard only mention that segment of this multi-faith church? Why focus on such people from the Islamic population? Let's apply his tests of integration.

This weekend, Muslim women from across Australia gather in Canberra for a Federally-funded national women's conference launched by Sex Discrimination Commissioner Pru Goward.

Goward should brief Howard on how oppressed delegates are forced to work in demeaning fields like academia, legal practice, primary and secondary education, journalism, publishing, social work, film production and police.

Delegates will discuss unAustralian topics like film production, law enforcement, publishing and women in business. Conference proceedings will be in that foreign language called English.

Such women are the rule, not the exception, in Muslim communities across the Western world. Muslims in North America have just elected an all-American woman to lead their peak body.

Howard's term "Islamic community" is as meaningless as speaking about a "Christian community". What kind of Christians? Christadelphians? Low-church Anglicans? Roman Catholics?

Migrants have many layers of identity. Religion is only one of them. Usually the most important identity layer is the one where they feel most vulnerable. My parents arrived in Canberra in 1965. My mum's first friend here was a Hindi-speaking Jewish woman. Language was the primary source of my mother's identity. It was also the area where she felt most vulnerable.

What possible gains in national security or integration are achieved by singling out one group from the multi-faith broad church of insufficiently integrated Australians? Why identify this group according to one aspect of their identity? And why make ethno-religious heritage a vulnerable point?

Millions of our tax dollars are spent on national security. John Howard frequently says that Islamist terrorists fight us because of our way of life. But when he singles out Muslims for adverse comment, he's manufacturing a larger pool of marginalised Muslims. This only benefits extremists in the long run.

Daffodil

2006-08-27T01:28:00.000+01:00

Daffodil
Originally uploaded by adelvice.

Well the weather is indeed warming up (although some days it still does NOT feel like it!). We even have real daffodils coming out of the ground.

My job is cool. I have been doing a lot of going out to "engagements" with my boss - where it is nice to see the interection between the stuff from the office and it's impact on various groups in the community. I have to work pretty long hours (though not as long as in the firm in JKT) but I don't mind.

The other exciting thing is that I get paid next week. Paid, real money! Weeeeeeehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

This week I spent every night finishing my scholarship applications (and they have to be done today). But on Thursday night I got to go and see Gomez play at the Governor Hindmarsh.

I must admit that I had big expectations, having watched Gomez play about 5 years ago, and remembering the gig as my favourite of all-time. They didn't disappoint. Apparently they had spent a long time travelling to get here the day before they played in Adelaide, and one guy was sick, so they were a bit grumpy. But they pumped up a bit when they saw how keen the crowd was. :-) I did realise at the show though, that I have missed about two quite recent albums (as well as the one's I knew I didn't have) cos a load of the songs were unfamiliar. I went and bought 2 from the back catalogue the next day, but still have a couple to go...... Anyway, conclusion - they were amazing, and the Gov was even a pretty good venue.

Oh and the Vasko Era were the support, and I have never seen a band be so cruel to their instruments on stage ever. Ha! But they were pretty cool, if a somewhat odd choice for a Gomez support slot.

Hmmmm. Anyways, happy birthday to Lauren. I sent her an SMS calling her old, but the flaw in my logic is that I too will be 24 in about three weeks time, so of course she had the perfect comeback.

And as for my "reading my way through missed classics" - I have a Jane Austen book waiting to read, as well as two Thomas Hardy books that Dad pulled out of a box, from his old days at Manchester Uni. But I haven't had time to start them yet. Will do will do.

Scout's Music Revue

2006-08-16T01:11:00.000+01:00

I start my job tomorrow, Ministerial Liaison for something-something, writing speeches something-something, blah-blah. Can't wait for some income dum-dum.

And continuing in my "reading books I shoulda read ages ago" phase - I am reading To Kill a Mockingbird. Perhaps this might explain why ah cayan't stop tawkin lahk ah gowt a suthun acceyant.

I want to talk about music for a minute. Up until several weeks ago, if people had asked what was my favourite album of the year, I would have answered Madonna-Confessions on a Dancefloor (which I think, ironically, was released last year). Nonetheless, in spite of your audible booing and hissing about that previous statement, I have stumbled upon some great muzaks the past few weeks.

For a start, in Bali I bought a pirate copy of Ben Harper-Both Sides of the Gun after hearing it played in Bintang in Yogya, and my-wordy, that is a toe-tapping revelation of a hoe-down soundtrack. What am I talking about? Hmmm, well anyway, its a good album. Much lighter than other offerings yet still mighty serious. Radicool.

Then the other day, in celebration of the end of my period of unemployment, I bought a couple of CD's, one being Thom Yorke's Eraser and the second being Goldfrapp-Supernature.

Well, on first listen, Eraser was a thoroughly unlistenable hotch-potch of blips and beeps, but having been a long-long-time fan of Radiohead I have listened again, and goddarnit, if there wasn't the odd melody in there that I didn't hear to begin with. Who wudda thunk it? It is growing on me, like some kind of blippy-bleepy disease. :-)

The Goldfrapp CD is also good. "Hell-80's" as kids on tha street mite say. But well worth 8.95 from the JB's bargain bin. Infact, possible even worth 28.95. Aduh.

I had also heard some stuff about the most recent Fiona Apple record, Extradordinary Machine, but they didn't have it in the shop, so I didn't get it. Then happened to mention this sequence of events to my brother when I got home, who said, "I bought that stupid CD months ago. I hate it. You can have it." To which I replied "Are you sure?", and he said something along the lines of "Well put it this way, I can keep it in my CD stand and never listen to it again, or you can have it in your CD stand and possibly turn it into something less than a waste of my money." And, it is pretty cool. Very eccentric, and dare I say, unlike past works, and I am still warming up to it, but after several listens yesterday, I can say, I. like. it.

Ok, prattle prattle. What have been your favourite albums this year?? And what are some other books I can add to my "Books I Shoulda Read Ages Ago" list? I already have Wuthering Heights (thanx to Sam).

Occurrences

2006-08-12T05:47:00.000+01:00

Ok, this week I have

a) Finished Great Gatsby (and added it to my all-time favourite books list)

b) Finally watched Garden State (cool movie)

c) Got a job (more on that one later)

d) Conceded that my front tooth is turning a strange colour and that I need to get it fixed (if only I hadn't chipped in that handball game in Year 6....damned gutter)

e) Made an appointment to get my hair done

f) Unpacked another box of stuff

g) Bought new shoes and mascara and various skin products aimed at resolving my war on open pores

h) Went to the movies to watch Beyond The Sea with Kevin Spacey about the life of Bobby Darin (I hadn't heard of him either, it's ok!). Good film, but the little kid was annoying and irrelevant if you ask me.

i) Thought about the Middle East and how depressing that whole situation is (feeling increasingly angry at Israel's behaviour)

j) Watched Indonesian news and seen that there is some kind of natural disaster in Surabaya (what is lumpor panas?)

k) Found 30 CD's in my little sister's cupboard (realised I wasn't losing my mind, and that some of my best CD's were actually missing until I found them again)

l) Found a bunch of my clothes in my little sister's cupboard (see note above)

m) Acclimatised a little bit more.

So life is well and truly back to normal.

Oh and a question- if y'all were gonna learn a new language what would it be?? And why?

Not quite a Gili Islands Picture

2006-08-10T00:22:00.000+01:00

My Sibblleings!!!!
Originally uploaded by adelvice.

In response to complaints from some of my siblings that I never posted a pic of them on my blog (which was btw incorrect) and also because my blog looks boring without photo's and also because there is not much interesting stuff at this point in time for me to show you......here is a photo of me and my crazy younger sibbles. Jonathon, Gabrielle and D-andy, oops I mean, Sandy.

Reacclimatisationising

2006-08-08T13:05:00.000+01:00

Adelaide is still cold- and no matter how much the people around me try to tell me that 20 degrees celcius is warm, i won't accept it. It is not warm when the mercury spends all day shivering it's way up the stem of the themometer only to reach 20 for a microsecond and turn around again. And all of you people currently living in cooler climes- shut your mouths - let me have my whinge just for a few more days...

No, no, no. My blood is tropicalised. And it ain't detropicalising without a fight.

So the past week I have been sitting at the computer, hittin the keys, typing up cover letters and CV's and sending them off. And now I wait.

And my scholarships are due soon enough, so i shall let u know, kasitahu, about that.

I have seen my adorable little new family members, Anderson and Madison. Both super-cute and cuddly. And though they are both my cousins, I hope they call me Aunty - cos the chances of one of my siblings spawning offspring anytime soon is slim methinks.

I watched one of my Indo VCD's tonight - to check whether i still understand the language after 10 days (I did)- I watched "Janji Joni"- and it is actually a cool little Indo indie flick. I really enjoyed it, and it is pretty funny. Unlike virtually every other Indonesian film I have seen. And, it wasn't sponsored by a tobacco company, so there were no pointed and random shots of someone lighting up a ciggy, totally unrelated to the plot. I also recognised a lot of the Jakarta city scenes they used - at one stage I am pretty sure he drives past Plaza Semanggi - where I would often go when I was pulang kantor - going home from the office!

I didn't quite get the same exhilarating feeling about seeing a mall I recognised, as when they are scaling the walls of the Vatican in MI:3 and I could lean to my neighbour and say "I've been there" but it was still cool to see it.

And before I go some additions to the Crappy/Good Things About Being Home list:

Happy
1) Seeing my friends - ( & calling them on the phone and not having to worry if my phone credit will run out.)
2) Red Wine
3) My champion Grandparents - who are still super-happy after circling the globe in their mini-world-tour.
4) My Tax Return!!!!! (Woohoo!)
5) Broadband internet

Crappy
1) After not using moisturiser for the entire time in Indo, applying 2-3 times a day to avoid having skin like paper.
2) Losing my hard-earned tan.
3) Not bein able to walk 10m down the road at lunchtime, pay 50c for my lunch, and walk home.
4) Missin my friends in Indo, and the relaxed vibe of Yogya, and of course, Bar Bintang.
5) I do not know how to make Telur Dadar like Ibu Kos, and as for adding jagung - ha- gak mungkin! (If anyone has that recipe - please tell me)

But all in all, being home is better than I expected. And I will be back in Indo many times in the future I suppose.

Oh and my family are the newest in a long line of sambal addicts - i made some on the weekend and my psycho brother is having it on toast. Aduh. Gila banget!

Rite, time to read more of "The Great Gatsby" - I am still trying to work out if I can include it in my favourite books list......

Novelties that Don't Wear Off (and those that do....)

2006-08-02T00:48:00.000+01:00

Happy things about being home

1) Seeing my family & friends
2) Seeing my cousin's gorgeous new little baby, and my new cousin!
3) Being able to go the fridge and cut a piece of CHEESE as I wish, and eat it, with my left hand, as I wish!
4) Being able to drive my car
5) Being reunited with my CD's

Crappy things about being home

1) It is bloody freezing
2) Adelaide does not change, at all.
3) I have no money and no job
4) Did I mention it is bloody freezing?
5) Um, the last time I spoke Indonesian was when I stepped on the plane in Bali. Fab.

Anyway's luckily I have managed thus far to avoid the post-travel blues, as I have so many damned things to do, I ain't got no time to feel sorry for myself.

To all my regular commentors, thankyou.

To all my anonymous commentors- if you knew me, you would know how much i want to know who you are :-).

And to all my non-commenting readers, thanks for nuthin punks! Ha ha. Only kidding.
The guardian angel who sits on my shoulder has been telling me all who you are anyway. So don't think I don't know......

No seriously. I derive a lot of pleasure from writing this blog, and sharing all the crazy stuff I do with you, even if my grammar is bad, my expression colloquial, and my point often unclear.

Not sure how prolific I will be in the next few months - perhaps I need to take a show of hands from my O/S readers to see just how interested they are in my hum drum Adelaide life. Sampe nanti.

Sunset thru Trees

2006-07-31T02:52:00.000+01:00

Sunset thru Trees
Originally uploaded by adelvice.

gorgeous!!!

Gili Gaga

2006-07-31T02:45:00.000+01:00

Life was Tough
Originally uploaded by adelvice.

Well I am home in Adelaide - arrived back to a delightful 9 degrees - hard to believe that 3 days ago I was sitting having this photo taken.

The Gili's were fantastic. Imagine snorkelling 10 metres of a beach and seeing sea turtles, tropical fish of every imaginable colour and drifting one Km on the current as the sea world passes you by. So cool!

Another thing about the Gili's is the hilarious combination of Europeans who stumble their way across Indonesia and find themselves in paradise. I hardly met any Australians there - on the other hand - Swedes, Germans, French, Spaniards, Slovenes, Belgians, Swiss, Irish & British were there in abundance. The vibe is so remarkable relaxed, it is impossible to stress about anything while you are there.

I travelled there with Sam, and Alana joined us a few days later. Accomodation was great value, and so were the drinks. Aduh - just writing this I was wish I was still there. I even managed to get a tan!

So now I am sitting at the computer in my parents new house, wearing 7 layers of clothing and with the central heating cranked up, scouring the net for employment opportunities and contemplating scholarship options for a Masters next year. Talk about jerking me back to reality. :-)

But its all good. Will gradually catch up with my mates this week and sink back into the groove. Plan my next move and freeze in the process.

Sigh, so I bid Indonesian farewell. Had a great 6 months. Met amazing people. Did crazy stuff. Fantastic. Hebat.

Shades of Blue

2006-07-31T02:35:00.000+01:00

Shades of Blue
Originally uploaded by adelvice.

Beautiful! I was there 2 days ago!

Bali Dreaming

2006-07-22T04:15:00.000+01:00

Well just a short post to say I am in Bali, staying with Alana - and the three of us are having a great time!

In a little while Sam and I are going up on a bike to Ubud to have lunch with Alana and her mum, and then tonight we are going to stay at a beach called of all things Dreamland.

After that I will be off to the Gili's on Monday, and I don't think there is internet there, so you might not hear from me. So if not, I will write again when I get home.

Yay! Sun!

A Shadow In Sosro

2006-07-19T04:51:00.000+01:00

A Shadow In Sosro
Originally uploaded by adelvice.

Well, it is my second to last day in Yogyakarta. My Exit Permit will be ready tomorrow, and I am fairly confident I will be jumping on a plane tomorrow afternoon and heading over to Bali.

I am staying in Jalan Sosrowijayan, which is one of the two tourist- areas in Yogya. My losmen is costing about $6 a night and it is really nice. I am so happy I decided to try and see Yogya from a different perspective because I have noticed new things in the last few days, even though I have driven down this street countless times.

Today I am going to go to Kota Gede, the silver city, to try and pick up a nice souvenir. Later I am going to head over to my old kos and get rid of some of my stuff. I have a ridiculous quantity of luggage - all books. And because I was an idiot and flew Qantas, the letter I have from my University asking for leniency RE weight of luggage, doesn't have any effect.

Anyhoo, thankfully, I was nowhere near the Tsunami/Earthquake that happened the other day. I left Jakarta three hours before the ground shook again. Some of my office friends said they felt the shake on Level 23 of the Jakarta Stock Exchange. I am not sure how well I would have coped had I been there......

Right, time to go and keep pretending to be a tourist!

Last Day (Pretending to Work)

2006-07-16T06:20:00.000+01:00

Still Workin
Originally uploaded by adelvice.

I'd like to pretend that I wasn't just posing for this one, but then, that would be lying.

Indian MTV

2006-07-16T06:18:00.000+01:00

I just flicked on TV to get my sporadically required fix of Indian MTV, and by some bizarre coincidence (or tasteless joke), or cultural quirk, they are screening India’s best ever “Rail” tracks. Given what happened in Mumbai this week it seems like a strange choice of special feature, but I am not sure whether I am more surprised by the fact that there seems to be a genre of music in India devoted to music about trains. I just watched two film clips- one with a Bollywood star who I see every time I turn on the channel, running along the roof of a train, and another one with some happy looking guy hanging out the side of a train and smiling at all the girls picking tea. Of course, I can’t understand anything that they are singing about, or what the VJ’s are saying, but if anyone can provide an explanation on this apparent love affair Indian MTV has with trains I might be able to go some way toward actually understanding why the hell they would be screening this crazy stuff in the same week that a bunch of trains got blown up. Aku lagi bingung.

Anyway. I had my last day in the firm yesterday, and was kinda sad to finish there. The people have been so absolutely lovely, from the “office boys” to the partners, they were all very welcoming to me, as well as patient and kind. I got some good feedback on my project from my Supervisor – it is going to be made into a guide for the office on Broadcasting in Indonesia, and apparently I even get my name printed in it, which is kinda cool. It is tradition in Indonesia to buy cakes, or noodles or something on a special occasion like birthday, last day or whatever, and I bought some nice sponge cakes from a shop nearby. It was amusing to see some of the lawyers that I had never seen before emerge from their offices to eat it. Hehehe!

I then had dinner with my fellow “magangs”, that is interns, as well as Ryan and Rizky, at my favourite restaurant so far in Jakarta- the Italian restaurant Trattoria at Pondok Indah. It is the closest service I have come to that is reminiscent of Australia, and even better, they give you free appetizers and a chocolate liqueur free for dessert. I had warned them all that the dinner would be “Australian” style, i.e. I would not be paying for their food, because for that kind of function here it would also be usual to pay for your guests. However when the bill arrived and for the 12 of us who ate the bill was like about $120 including wine and beer, I decided to bring out the card and pay for everyone. Being on occasion a bit of a dunderhead, I didn’t realize that they didn’t accept credit, and ended up looking silly because I only had enough cash to cover about a third of the bill.

Luckily, one of the partners had showed up late to eat dinner on his way home (which by the way was also cool because it was just us interns there) and he put in another third of the bill, leaving the rest to be split between the others. In true Indo style, or perhaps true Australian style, the Indonesian’s left leaving myself and Ryan (mate from Yogya who is also here) to sit at the bar and drink a quiet beer. We started talking to the owner of the place and the chef, who from the looks are maybe a tiny bit older than me – and they gave us some more free beer. I highly recommend that place to anyone who comes to Jakarta. Fabulous food.

So we finished the beer and went on to that old favourite bar of mine Second Floor. Ryan and I got another beer, took a seat at some random table and within about 10 minutes were drinking Chivas Regal…..gratis. Rizky showed up a while later and we hung out with his friends, who were also buying us drinks. To cut a long story short, I had a headache this morning which is from a combination of over-consumption and hitting my head on the sink in my bathroom before I went out yesterday because the electricity was dead and I am unco.  I stayed in bed for a long time today feeling sorry for my head and watching the Lost marathon, and now I am about to go out and watch Rizky’s band one last time.

I fly out of here Monday morning (I lost my paper ticket at the office– so I have to practice the dramatic “Oh dear I must have left it at home” thing), after I stop off at the office one more time to say goodbye to the head of the firm, an Aussie, who was in China last week. I will then be arriving in Yogya midday-ish, dropping off my bags at a Losmen (cheap hotel) in the tourist area, and get to Immigration so that I can get my exit permit within the week and head to Bali to join Alana.

It’s all action. I am gonna do Yogyakarta like a (budget) tourist this time. See all the things I missed last time, and see how things are going after the earthquake.

I am not exactly sad to be leaving Jakarta, I think it would be hard not to look forward to less traffic and fresher air. However, I could easily have stayed here longer if the opportunity had arisen. I have really liked my kos, maybe because I haven’t been in it a lot (I still haven’t really met anyone else who lives here, I have come to the conclusion that they are either ghosts or werewolves) but having cable has been fun. I will be very unhappy not to be able to watch Lost, Project Runway, Rockstar Supernova and CSI whenever I feel like it. On the other hand, perhaps I should stop rotting my brain and start reading, or having intelligent conversations, or pondering on life’s mysteries.

Ok, enough, rambling rambling rambling. See some of you soon, and others of you sooner.

Burn Your Rubbish

2006-07-09T06:11:00.000+01:00

How is it that I once more sit writing this blog post in my kos, having just eaten pop-mee and watching the Crows play again?? And this afternoon I will once more be going shopping…. Weird.

Anyways, am about to enter my final week of my time in Jakarta. I gotta heap of work to finish before I finish my internship, which I have a feeling is going to entail several later than usual finishes. But the good news is, there is a silver lining on the horizon – very soon I will be in Bali/Gili Islands getting a tan, so that I don’t get back to Australia and have to face your incredulous questions about where I have been living because of the enduring whiteness of my skin!

So anyway, today I am going to tell you about something that amuses/dismays me everytime I ride along Jalan Casablanca on my way to work on the back of the motorbike with a scarf tied around my face to block the pollution.

Jakarta has some of the worst air quality in the world, it also has some of the worst traffic in the world. The government, having in it’s wisdom decided that these two things may actually be connected, in an effort to ease the congestion in the CBD, implemented a law that says that between certain hours of the day any car on the road must have a minimum of three passengers.

Ok, cool. But because some people just couldn’t care less about complying with the spirit of that law, that is by organizing for example (shock horror) ‘car-pooling’, a few enterprising young souls realized that they could earn some spare cash by standing on the side of the road, and jumping in the cars of the law-breakers, earning probably the equivalent of a dollar or less, and then jumping out when the risk of the driver getting a fine has passed. It looks to me like the kids who stand on the side of the road, and who by the way are probably homeless/unemployed/orphaned or all three, have regular “customers” who pick them up everyday. Good on the kids I reckon, but in the meantime, absolutely nothing is being done about the pollution problem.

That is one thing that gets to me about Indonesia. Everything comes wrapped in 27 layers of plastic, people look at you like you have three heads when you say you don’t need a plastic bag, and the idea of throwing rubbish in for example, a bin, as opposed to the street or a public waterway, is quite a foreign concept. Burning rubbish is also contributing like mad to the poor air quality. Even many of my exceptionally well-educated friends that I have met through the internship don’t quite get the idea of taking care of the environment. Nonchalance about the environment is systemic, endemic, epidemic, call it what you will. Sadly, the Western world can put their shopping in recyclable “green” bags as much as we want, but while this kind of ignorance prevails in the developing world, it seems hard to see anything improving. Of course, this is all anecdotal and based on observation only, as opposed to facts and statistics, but I am pretty most people who have lived here will understand what I am saying. And my the way, I don’t attribute blame toIndonesian people generally. In the absence of a government that prioritises the environment, and strong civil society with influential and well-resourced NGO’s, it is probably not surprising.

Ok, enough ranting. One thing I realized the other day is how little I have mentioned the importance that music has had for me while I have been here. Right now I have a minor obsession with Gnarls Barkley, who I saw on MTV two weeks ago (that song Crazy…) and as yet, have been unable to find the CD. I bought the new Keane album the other day though, and that is very good. What else have I been listening to here?? Madonna-Confessions on a Dance Floor (yes I am a remarkably daggy Madonna devotee, still), Peterpan – Alexandria Soundtrack, Jamie Cullum, Neil Young and James Taylor, Tiesto, Pete Murray, m-FLO, Joanna Newsom, Kanye West- Late Registration (I still can’t get sick of that hip-hop masterpiece), Ween, John Legend, Goodnight Electric (of course), Kyoto Jazz Massive, Radiohead (of course), a Coldplay MP3 CD that I bought and has about 200 songs on it, and Nihtin Sawnhey! And a heap more of course, but there are some of the particularly important musix that now have memories of Indonesia embedded in their choruses and hooks. ;-)

Anyway, I’ve had my whinge. Time to go an upload this baby onto the blog. And if anyone can tell me more about Gnarls Barkley I will be, forever in your debt. Oh and btw, I am going to add a link to vimeo to my blog soon, which will let you see my video’s. I haven’t made many, but now I can share them I will make more. Sip!

Child Squeezing in a Capital Market

2006-07-07T12:18:00.000+01:00

Am at work, its Friday night, and I think I am about to turn off the lights and leave at the conclusion of my third week here. This is notwithstanding the fact that half of the firm is stuck in a professional development seminar about capital markets, and from the sound of their laughter, something about the purchase and sale of shares is tickling their sense of humour.

Am going to see Goodnite Electric later on tonight with a bunch of work people. They all just got bonuses (well the Associates did) so apparently I will once more be getting my drinks bought for me which is always nice ;-)

Anyway, this week have been up to my elbows in Indonesian Broadcasting Law, and I can’t resist but share with you this little gem from a translation of a law relating to broadcast advertising;

Article 46 3) e) – Commercial advertisement broadcast shall be banned from exploiting a child aged less than 18.

Ok fair enough, but the elucidation of this article then goes on to say........

“Exploiting a child shall be, for instance, the act of employing, using or squeezing a child in order to obtain personal, family or group gains.”

Employing, using, or squeezing. What the hell does that mean?

So all ye exploitating “child-squeezers” out there beware, no broadcasting of such abhorrent behaviour shall henceforth be permitted in Indonesia.

And for your information, the correct translation is something along the lines of blackmailing.

Will write more on Sunday!

Be Patience Darling

2006-07-02T08:08:00.000+01:00

I received the above message in an SMS from my fellow intern Amel this morning. Don’t you think that’s a motto to live by? Be patience.

Anyway, handed in two pieces of work to my supervisor this week and haven’t heard anything back yet, so I am going in to ask him on Monday. I hate not getting feedback. Even if he says “that was rubbish, do it again” it’s better than hearing nothing.

Aside from work this week I did some pretty cool stuff.

On Monday I went and watched football at a bar that was absolutely chocca-bloc full of Aussies. On reflection, probably not the safest place to be in Jkt. I don’t think I will go there again. A) It was an average bar and b)if I am going to hang out in a bomb-target there are plenty of better ones in Jakarta. Hehehe. (Mum, Dad- I am being deliberately provocative- santai! Relax!) Anyway, bad result- absolutely unbelievable finish. But if we had made more of our opportunities when Italy went a man down, we wouldn’t have lost like that. And by the way- how the hell did Harry Kewell get gout? Can someone please explain that?

On Wednesday I caught up with my Japanese friend Kenta from Yogya. He is also doing an internship up here. We went to my fave Japanese restaurant so far in Indonesia- Sushi Groove in Setia Budi. It was another one of those occasions that freaks out Indonesian’s- one of the “why the hell are those to foreigners communicating using our language” moments! Anyway, Kenta is a champ- we had a good conversation about whaling- and agreed to disagree, with respect to each other’s points of view.

On Friday, I finished work at about 8pm and was invited by several colleagues including 2 of the partners to go to a bar to watch the Germany v Argentina match. Little did I realize I was the only girl, until one of the Associate’s friends showed up. Meanwhile this bar was like a relatively high-class escort establishment- i.e. not somewhere you go for a girl’s night out! I had been warned it was a bit seedy, but in the end it didn’t matter. The rule is if you go out with the partners they have to pay, so I got to drink a couple of glasses of lovely Western Australian Cab Shiraz. If you had asked me 6 months ago if it was lovely, my answer may well have been different- however given the fact I have hardly drunk wine here my palate is back to basics I think. Aduh.

And then, in the continuing theme of being given little choice as to whether I will embarrass myself in front of my colleagues, I became a cheerleader for the firm at an inter-law firm tournament. Every year 15 law firms across Jakarta take part in a sporting tournament, and yesterday morning was the opening ceremony as well as the opening of the women’s futsal tournament. I have already uploaded the relevant photo’s. I even suited up for futsal however because I hadn’t trained the coach wouldn’t play me. Nice waste of time!

Last night (Saturday) I stayed home- I can hardly believe it- but at 7pm I thought “I will just have a little nap” and then woke up at 10.30, ordered McDonalds home delivery (shame on me- but it’s so easy!) watched England lose on penalties and then fell asleep again.

Which brings me to today – it’s ¾ time in the Crows v Geelong match – the first Adelaide Crows game I have watched all year – I am typing this blog – eating Pop-Mee that is, instant noodles (I swear – I usually eat more nutritional food!) and then I think I am going to head out with my pal Riri to the Zara sale. Jakarta shopping is seriously fabulous. And I love Zara. It has to come to Australia soon.

Speaking of coming to Australia soon. At this point in time looks like I am coming home late-July. And after that, who knows???

pompompompompom

2006-07-02T07:58:00.000+01:00

pompompompompom
Originally uploaded by adelvice.

As you can see, i am not averse to embarassing myself, especially where there are pom-poms involved!

Kulcha

2006-06-27T06:51:00.000+01:00

Well that football game last night was extremely disappointing- possibly the worse way to lose. But the following email to "Crikey" today made me laugh:

"A Crikey reader writes of the football: I am bereft. The only brighter point was walking home with Fed Square attendees last night past the art gallery when I overheard this sensational exchange: Fan 1: "Let's go to Lygon Street and break things." Fan 2: "No look, let's just break something at the gallery – there's a Picasso exhibition." Fan 1: "Mate, I reckon he's Spanish." That's Melbourne – passionate about footy but at least our hoons have kulcha."

Hehehehe. Does anyone even read this thing anymore btw??? Yuk! Commentlah!

Miss Jakarta Contest

2006-06-25T08:22:00.000+01:00

Miss Jakarta Contest
Originally uploaded by adelvice.

As well as running counter to many of the feminist principles that I hold close and tight to my heart, this was also very embarassing. This is me with fellow interns Jesse and Amel.

Oh and BTW - I had to get a new phone number- so for those of you who love me- here it is : +6281385385861

A New Groove

2006-06-25T07:34:00.000+01:00

It seem to me that no matter where in the world we find ourselves, it is human instinct to start carving out a little niche, a little routine, and a little zone of predictability. After just over a week here my little niche is well and truly carved, and the pace at which it has happened has given me an insight into what my life here would be like, if for arguments sake, this internship became a job.

I was pretty stressed and anxious before moving up to Jakarta, just because it was a big change from the happy little life I was living in Yogya. However, the instant I moved into my kos, the anxiety dissolved and I realized that I had been worrying subconciously about the fact I had nowhere to live. As such, surprisingly, I was not that nervous on my first day when I took the lift up to the 21st floor to start work.

The office is I imagine, fairly typical of top-tier legal offices the world over. Because the Indonesian firm I am with is linked with the international firm who authorized my placement in the first place, they are forced to work to international time keeping standards and meet monthly billable hour targets set in the States, but as consolation they receive their wages in $US. I have absolutely no doubt that they are working far harder than lawyers in the vast majority of other law firms in this country.

I have been assigned to a Partner who is American but has lived in Indonesia for over 20 years. He is a nice guy, even if he has loaded me up heavily with work, but has given me quite a bit of responsibility for a memo that that has been a long time in the making. My task has been to plough through an enormous folder of law (about 30% not yet translated into English i.e. in Indonesian) and check that it reconciles with what has been written in the memo and then make sure that all the various parts of the big fat thing don’t conflict. That was a nice baptism of fire for me.

The cool thing is that I am actually lumped in with the Indonesian interns who have all recently started in the firm (however their terms are for 3 months plus) and so I kind of had an instant support network of fellow travelers in the office. It has been very interesting to get to know some of them over the past week (and last night), and has reaffirmed my suspicion about this country about the way money flows to money. All the interns are from very wealthy families have grown up in the best districts of Jakarta and I am sure have never had to cope with the day to day struggle to make ends meet that most other Indonesians endure. That said, they are all good people and they have been very welcoming of the random white girl who showed up to their office. They also find me hilarious because I go to work at the Stock Exchange on the back of a motorbike (I pay the guy about $10 a week to pick me up from my kos and take me) whereas as they all come in their own cars, or with their drivers.

On Friday it was Jakarta’s 471st birthday (or something) and also the firms 17th birthday, and so there was a bit of a function put on at lunchtime (we get lunch free every day but this was a “special” lunch which was kinda gross) which entailed each of us new kids putting on traditional Betawi (original Jkt people) dress and being interviewed as part of a “Miss Jakarta” contest in front of all the employees of the firm. We each also had to dance in the Betawi style with one of the Partners, which was very embarrassing as I had never seen the Betawi style until I entered the room where the party was happening. The whole thing was conducted in Indonesian and although I can usually understand everything that is being said, the Jakarta dialect is very different from the Central Java dialect and combined with the fact that they were speaking at a million miles an hour, I had very little idea what was going on. So that was a good way to impress my colleagues. Wearing strange clothes and a blank expression.

A couple of things about the firm- the owners are both women (which I think is unusual even in an Australian context…….) and the business of the firm is conducted predominantly in English. This does not however, mean that I can get away with speaking only English. Because people know that I speak Indonesian and it is a novelty for them to hear an expat using Indo in the office, they insist on speaking to me in Bahasa. Which is good really and means that even if I don’t improve much this month, at least I won’t be going backwards.

Some other observations- there is a secretary in the office called “Candy Baby Joy Christie Wawaruntu”, Indonesia has a “Department of Manpower” and there is no such thing as a professional ring tone in the office- I have to laugh every time I hear the house music ring tone of one of the particularly serious partners.

Anyway, that’s the first week- it was pretty full-on- I can’t believe I forgot to mention the working hours- I start at 8pm and finish between 7pm and 10pm. A lot of the new kids brag about pulling 2am finishes, but I have seen their productivity levels after 6pm and the way they drop dramatically, so I am not going to be busting my *something* just to look like I am staying late. I would rather get my work done and leave, than hang around trying to look busy! This rule will especially apply on Monday night, as I refuse to sit and watch the Socceroo’s in the staff kitchen or while sitting in my kos, so I am going straight from work to seek out some compatriots to share the love with.

Ok. I am going shopping. Sampai ketemu lagi.

Gotta Kos, Seentha Office, dAH bANkrup!

2006-06-18T10:36:00.000+01:00

Ok so am 15 hours, a world cup game and a nervous tummy away from starting work. My first few days in JTown have been interesting and expensive (mum- please bear in mind when you see my credit card statement that I have been buying work related clothing! except for the one drink at the four seasons where i was caught embarrassingly short on cash!!! :-) !!)

anyways, flew in to Jkt with Sam and Lauren (yes Heights people- Lauren Carter) and that was good cos it took my mind of feeling sad about Yogya and being nervous as I was around people excited about having a debaucherous Jtown weekend.

On Thursday we traipsed around in a million cabs looking for a hotel for the first night which was a pain in the proverbial. Something hilarious happened- we went to one hotel in Chikini and were rejected because they have a rule about unmarried opposite sex people staying in the same room. It was pretty hilarious. We ended up falling back on the Lonely PLanet option which was mediocre but was run by a very nice man who taught us how not to get ripped off by taxi drivers.

Anyways that night we went out to Plaza Senayan- a playground for the rich and ridiculous (one of many in this city) and all got haircuts. I needed a business-y style cut and wasn't prepared to risk my locks at Johnny Andrean- Indonesian wide chain cutter- so paid for a haircut that worked out to be about $A35. My Ibu Kos will hopefully never find out- she freaked when I paid $8 in Yogya- most Indonesians pay $1 or less. Anyway, we did that, then went out to the wine bar Vin+ and drank some Aussie red then watched England play in the bar Second Floor.

The next day I had to look for a kos, and made the mistake of waiting ages to start doing it. I fortunately came across the nicest taxi driver, certainly in Jkt and possibly the world, who then drove me around for 4 hours. All the places recommended by work unfortunately were full, although all proximate to the office- it's a shame, one of them was next door to the Iranian Ambassador's Residence.

Anyway roamed hi and lo, and after a lot of stress found the perfect place. However they couldn't give it to me straight away cos someone had put down a deposit. So I waited and then they called me back and said no it was definitely taken and I couldn't have it. I was very annoyed and stressed a) because it was perfect and I could have fitted half of yogya in my airconditioned hot water shower room and b) cos I had nowhere to sleep that night. Ended up going for option 2 which was at the time my distant 2nd choice. About $300 for the month, air con, tiny room, washing included and warm water. Turns out it was a good choice, I have cable tv in my room, free drinking water and a very helpful guy in the kos who is going to drive me on a motorbike to work and pick me up for $3 a day. He also set up my tv so that I can watch world cup! Woo hoo! So this is the reason when my first choice kos called me the next day and said "actually we do have a room we got it wrong" i said "no i am quite happy here thanks". oh and the other cool thing was, they reduced the rent for me in my kos to only $200 for the month because I am only staying 4 weeks. they were initially going to make me pay for the whole of july then took pity on me! for those of you who know about my dire financial situation and the fact I am NOT GETTING PAID while I am here will appreciate just how important that is!!!

anyhoo, thats the kos. it has worked out better, but the kos vibe here is way different to yogya, i have only seen 2 other people who live there- it's definitely a business type kos. oh and its mixed so there are boys and girls, and i can actually have my male friends come in my room without having to ask permission like in yogya- so thats nice cos my only 2 friends here are riskhy and ryan- who obviously are both boys.

so i have done a practice run up to the office, and it looks pretty plush. i went up on the saturday thinking i could get the elevator up, see the office and then leave stealthily and undetected. but my plan was foiled by the fact that two lawyers saw me gawking in the door! i went in and said hello, all in Indonesian, and said see u Monday and then left feeling stupid. Oh well, would have been stupider if I hadn't said hello.

Right, so this is already long enough, have to go home and read my Indo law book and try not to be too nervous about tomorrow and also think about watchin the world cup. am gonna be watching it solo in my kos.... bit lonely, but I would be an idiot to go out and watch it the night before starting work...... Come on Aussie! Post me some comments people!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Some Kind of Ending

2006-06-14T11:58:00.000+01:00

Well it's my last morning in Yogya. In about 90 minutes I will be leaving my kos for a flight to Jakarta and in 4 days I start work.

12 Hours Ago I finished a party with my kos family and the girls and they gave me a bunch of presents and all wrote really beautiful messages for me in a book. I had to give a speech which no doubt made absolutely no sense, but they all nodded and smiled so i guess they got the gist.

9 Hours ago I got home from final drinks at Bar Bintang with the crew who are still in Yogya (a lot of people have gone to Bali). Because the staff there know my name (shame on me) and I often joke about with them, they put on my favourite Bintang music namely Abbey Road by The Beatles and then my other favourite Bintang music 311! None of the heathens (!) I was with understood the magic of The Beatles so I pondered the longevity of that album while stirring sugar into my Lemon Tea. Yes that's right no beer for me. I start working on Monday gituloh!

15 Hours Ago I got home from the airport to say goodbye to Ben, who, in the next chapter of his ongoing story of impossible bad luck, broke his hand on Tuesday and was told by one of the Aussie doctors to "just go home mate" because of the seriousness of the break (on his right & writing hand) and the high risk of infection here.

36 Hours ago I had a hot shower at the Hyatt in one of the rooms of the AusAID staff- a theatre nurse whom I had never before met and who gave me use of her room for one hour while she had her final briefing-we then got taken out to dinner to thank us for our work. We are also getting some kind of letter acknowledging our contribution to the relief work, which will be on Federal Government letterhead and will no doubt be quite useful in the future.

So thats my last day and a half in Yogya. Too many goodbyes. And although I suppose it should get easier as I get older to say goodbye to people, I find terrifying the thought that some of the most interesting, intelligent and kind-hearted people that I now call my friends, by virtue of the situation in which we met, I will probably rarely see again.

Yogya has changed in the last 2 weeks btw. Which isn't surprising I suppose. But where before I could walk the length of Jalan Kaliurang and not see another single foreigner except maybe the odd Australian, now I see one every 50 metres. There are also so many SUV's on the road now it is staggering, each with a little white sign in the window identifying it as the vehicle of a particular NGO. There are 65 NGO's in Yogya, all working hard, all distributing aid and providing medical care and logistical assistance, many creating dependencies and tensions within local communities which will be very hard to dissolve when the NGO's pack up and go home.
The dilemma for all time- how to do it all properly. And from 2 conversations I have had with different people since Sunday, the United Nations really has no idea either.

Ok, so I am off to J-Town to find if the streets are paved with gold and see whether people actually do wear 3 piece suits in 32 degree 97 percent humidity. And Dad, I don't really know anyone in Jakarta so I am going to have to find a bar or something to watch the game in, either that or watch it in my new kos........... Iii-aaa.

Ole Ole Ole Ole auss-ie auss-ie!

2006-06-13T04:56:00.000+01:00

aussie gila
Originally uploaded by adelvice.

What a win!

My third to last night in Yogya and what a way to celebrate it. After the game we proceeded to terrify half of Yogya by driving all the way to Bintang on the bikes with flags waving, engines revving in third gear and horns beeping. You bloody beauty!

We watched the game in a big outside bar with all our Japanese friends. They were understandably vocal for the first half and a bit of the match, but sat there in dismay as we proceeded to tap three into the net! Good sports however, and we all shook hands at the end!

Anyways, am leaving for Jakarta on Thursday morning and start work on Monday which is very inconvenient timing given the Australian match on Sunday night. Still having mixed emotions about leaving Yogya and I am feeling quite nervous at the prospect of J-Town minus the safety net that all us Aussies take for granted here, but it will work out fine.

And I apologise to anyone who sat listening to ABC this morning-turns out the interview I did was on Radio Adelaide. I was so damned tired however I have no idea how it was........aduh! Selamat world cup!

Flutterbies

2006-06-11T03:52:00.000+01:00

I might be going out in the field with AusAID tomorrow so am posting this now in case I can't later- but sometime Tuesday morning I am doing an interview on ABC Adelaide. It is 6am my time (rather inconveniently early given that Australia play Monday night). That's all I know.

And btw- am well aware that "rationalisation" is incorrectly spelled on my previous entry. Serves me right for trying to use 6 syllable words with a hangover and an enormous sleep deficit. Salam!

Stars Align

2006-06-10T11:58:00.000+01:00

It occurred to myself and my friends last night that it is only by a rare and rather fortunate twist of fate that one can sit, in a bar, in an earthquake zone, with an erupting volcano in the distance, with friends from all corners of the globe, drink beer, listen to Indonesian reggae and watch the World Cup. Some might call it an incarnation of their worst nightmare (hi mum!), I call it bloody cool.

Last night was a good night. Sad because it will be one of the last times I do that in Yogya, with that particular group of people (Turkey, Irelandia - you hear me?!) but also not sad, because if you have to leave a place behind, then this is the way you want to do it. Well, that is, excluding the thumping headache that I woke up with. Doing it all again tonight, but on lemon tea instead of Carlsberg. Eng-er-land!

Today I turned my bedroom into a little cinema for the kids in the kos. I had promised them before I left that I would take them to the cinema, but the earthquake sorted that one out, so the trade off was that I bought them a bunch of lollies chocolate and softdrink and we rented some films from the video shop and watched them on my laptop. Resa, Kotzar and Vikri- gorgeous little children who I am going to miss very much, at least for the next month while I am in Jakarta.

I am putting off going across the road to the supermarket to get a box to pack up my room because it is something I would rather not have to do. Alas, being overseas and living in Yogya is not the end in itself, it is the means, and now I its time pursue different means to move a little closer to the end. Does that even make sense? I am tired, and my brain understands it anyway......... it's my rationlisation of my situation to try and dull the blow of leaving behind good friends.

As for the chance to stay on here and work.... I have had a somewhat nebulous offer of work from a contact I have here. In Indonesia I feel that "somewhat nebulous" can be equated with what you and I know as "in-principle agreement"........ so will wait and see with that one.

Ok peeps, time to sleep sebelum piala dunia mulai lagi. That is before the world cup starts again.