Madalinemmmbop's whirlwind in Disneyland

Super Marriott Land

2007-04-05T10:09:00.000Z

For a leaving present Caroline, a good friend of Duncan's, bought us possibly *the* best thing. A Marriott hotel gift card, charged with 350 big ones. To be redeemed at any Marriott hotel in the world when we fancied a good night's sleep and a proper wash.

So, on arrival to India The Duncs and I decided to try our luck with a night at the Mumbai Mazza. And we weren't disappointed.

For those of you not in the know, the Marriott is fancy pants. It's kind of up there with the Hilton and the Mal Maison, but it's my personal fave as it was our place of choice for a very over priced glass of vino after a hard day at Sugar. "Shall we go for one in the Mazza?" we'd say. And end up staying for more. Then pay about 100 quid for the privilege. But you can't put a price on feeling fancy.

So there we were, in the reception of possibly the nicest most expensive place to stay in the whole of Mumbai, surrounded by filthy rich Indian business men, in our flip flops and grubby shorts and massive rucksacks. I'm not sure what people made of us but had anyone asked we would have told them we were New Money. We decided that Duncan should be Myspace Tom, and I his very lucky girlfriend.

We were booked in for one night on the fourth floor in an executive suite. Not too shabby for Sam and Duncan. For Caroline's money we got the nicest room in the world ever - massive flat screen TV, DVD player, huge comfy bed, bath, robes, toiletries, mini bar, complementary fruit and cookies. Then we got to use the executive boardroom which meant as much free fancy food as you could fit in all day (I managed to fit in quite a bit - see, a larger stomach IS beneficial when it comes to free stuff.) Followed by unlimited wine and cocktails and cheese in the evening. Then there was the free internet. Another of my all time favourite things.

The rest of the perks were as you'd imagine. Three swimming pools. Free newspapers that hung in a fancy little pouch from your doorknob in the morning. And the biggest buffet style breakfast you've ever seen.

So what did we do? We took advantage. We swam, ate until we felt sick, surfed the internet, supped Merlot and then tucked up in our huge bed and watched Pan's Labyrinth. And it was exactly how my life was meant to be.

Full moon on Monday

2007-04-02T08:07:00.000Z

(I know, I know - it's Blue Moon on Monday, but it would have been a journalist's dream.)

Right, so this is Haad Rin beach on the island of Koh Phagnan:

And it's this beach that, on a monthly basis, attracts thousands apon thousands of party goers to celebrate the full moon.

They all pile on to the beach:

Paint their bodies with copious amounts of glow in the dark paint (thanks for that, Duncan):

And drink lethal cocktails by the bucket:

I went. I didn't want to. I had fun. I didn't want to. I felt terrible the next day. I didn't want to.

Anyway. I'll leave you with a picture of me and Evo having a vodka and lemon shake pre-party. A picture of Tom and Duncs looking hot pre-party. And a picture of the moon during the party. And then we'll never speak of that night ever again:

You'll find me in da club

2007-03-30T07:26:00.000Z

Some guy has left a comment on this picture on my Flickr account saying that it looks crazy beautiful. It does, doesn't it? And it would have been, had we not have been staying in Club 18-30's hell.

After Koh Samui and living la Vida loca with the lovely Lady Boys we had a horrendous journey over to the island of Koh Pahgnan. Everything that could go wrong did go wrong and we nearly missed the boat. We didn't though. We managed to *just* make the rocky journey. And I managed to *just* make it to the bathroom to throw up when we got off on the island (it was projectile and through my nose too - first time ever - high five!)

So, we're here for the Full Moon party on the 2nd. Although I'm being a party pooper and don't really want to go. I'm so over going out these days. What's that all about? BUT we'd managed to book ahead and get the last 2 rooms at Coral Bungalows (apparently THE place to stay on the island, just a few minutes walk from the action) and the others are totally up for it, so I'm going along for the ride. YAY!

Coral Bungalows. It's got a pool. It's got an amazing bar and restaurant on it's own beach. It's got clean, private rooms with hot water. It's also got about a thousand townie yobs that I spend my whole life trying to avoid.

Don't get me wrong, I'm very happy for these people to enjoy themselves getting wasted 24 hours a day, being loud and obnoxious, having Chinese symbol tattoos etched on to their permanently semi-naked bodies and fornicating until the early hours of the morning in the pool (after the debauched pool party on Friday night - which I didn't attend - the pool was shut for 2 days as they scooped vomit and who knows what else from the water) just as long as they don't do it anywhere near me, thanks. It's one of the reasons I left Bournemouth and the soul reason I'd never go on a Club 18-30's holiday (we'll ignore the fact that after next year I won't even fit in to that age bracket.) Call me judgemental. Call me a snob. I really couldn't care less.

Anyway. Apart from the hideous people (who I'm sure are very nice people inside) and the fact that poor Duncan got tonsillitis and had to have a massive injection in his bum we're on a beautiful island for 4 days. And I got a jacket potato shaped like a silver swan. See, it's not all bad.

Dude looks like a lady

2007-03-29T12:53:00.000Z

Lady Boys. We love them. And just as well because Thailand seems to be crawling with them. What's that all about? I'm all for someone being who they feel they want to, or need to be. But it seems that here there's so many. It must be quite a lucrative business. Anyways.

Darren, friend from London who we met up with in Bangkok - keep up, came to join us for the night on Koh Samui so we decided to make a bit of a night of it. Little did I know...

It started with drinks on the beach where Tom's current squeeze (a sweet Cambodian girl called Tick) bought us all blue shots:

It then continued at the local Lady Boy cabaret show which was UNREAL. The best gay (are they gay? WHAT ARE THEY?) cabaret show I've ever seen, and honey I've seen quite a few:

Then this happened (be warned, some viewers may find the following disturbing):

Yes, that's right. Tom and Duncan got up and joined in with the show and they were incredible. Let's take a look at that again (sorry Duncs, I couldn't not show them):

To say I was proud of them for getting up there is an understatement. They were both amazing. But to see Tom up there was super impressive. Until 2 weeks ago he was a self confessed homophobe and said that he'd feel uncomfortable going to such a show. How a few days with Sam and Duncan changes things! So yeah. Amazing. We laughed, drank and hung with the girls after the show:

Then, as if all that excitement wasn't enough, we headed in to town for a bit of a dance with the local gays at Male Box. Is it any wonder I've been single for years?

Koh Sam(ui)

2007-03-27T12:32:00.000Z

According to the Lonely Planet, Koh Samui is much like "a beautiful woman who wears too much make-up." So Duncan cleverly re-named it "Koh Sam." Really darling, you should work in newspapers.

It was the next island on the list, so we headed there after saying goodbye to Dan and Sarah (see you in Essex, my lovelies.) It's a bigger island with roads and cars and stuff and I immediately hated it. A few hours later I loved it. Can we see a pattern emerging here? Someone doesn't like change.

Checked in to a wicked cheap, clean, fancy, guesthouse with AC. It's all about the AC these days. Eve and I had our own room to do girly stuff in (we hired a DVD player and watched Sex and the City) and the boys had the room next door to contain the testosterone.

Hired a jeep for the day and drove around the island checking out waterfalls, seeing elephants, photographing strange statues, picking up puppies, visiting a mumified monk (I'm not even kidding. He wears shades because his eyes melted away) and (the best bit) trawling the shops for fake designer knock offs. Yes people, we found them. Exactly what we were expecting in Bangkok. All here. On the island. Whatever designer knock off you want - you can get it. And man, are they good?

I couldn't afford it, but it would be rude not to come to Thailand and not get a bag right? So I got a beautiful real leather Mui Mui handbag for next to nothing. I know it's a goody because my beloved Sugar Fashion Stylist Charlotte Kewley sports a real one. That's right. Girls, look what you've done to me! I remember a day when I was more than happy with my rucksack that was held together with safety pins. Not anymore. I'm all about the (fake) labels. I make myself sick. But I look great, so that's all that matters.

Pure Shores

2007-03-26T09:44:00.000Z

Everyone who's been to Thailand has seen The Beach. And those who have seen it ALWAYS claim the book's better (I hate people that always claim the book is better btw - if you know the book's bound to be better, don't bother watching the film. You make people like me who don't read and enjoy being spoonfed by a big Hollywood movie feel inadequate.) I haven't seen the film. Nor have I read the book. So I don't know which is *actually* better. Although my money's on the movie. Obvs.

Anyway, in the movie (see what I did there) Leonardo DiCaprio is doing a spot of travelling in Thailand like me and Duncs, when he gets told of this secret, paradise island. So he visits it. I'm not sure what happens next. And I don't really want to know because I do planning on watching it now I've been ON SET.

The beach that they used is on a small island just off Koh Phi Phi, so the six of us hired a boat for the day and did a spot of island hopping and snorkelling. And it was amaaaazing.

The water was clear, the sea life was close to that on the Great Barrier Reef and the sun was mighty hot. The sand on 'The Beach' was white and silky as you'd expect, although sadly there was loads of rubbish. But that aside we were spoilt with utter beauty all day. The boys even felt the need to jump off a rocky cliff edge. The girls didn't.

Poi-O-Pop Fever

2007-03-24T12:22:00.000Z

Poi. I hate it. Sorry. Why do beautiful, romantic, deserted islands compel people to spin strings around their heads? And THEN light them with fire? It's attention seeking and you could have someone's eye out.

As expected, the beaches here are littered with people who are practising Poi. And they all look like idiots.

That said, the few that can really, really do it properly are amazing. Some of the kids on the island put on shows at night that, even to a Poi hater like myself, really are magical. So, here's an idea all you festival and beach Poi wannabes. Practise in your garden until you're as good as them. Only *then* do it in front of others. It's annoying.

Phi Phi

2007-03-23T09:25:00.000Z

On our arrival to the island of Phi Phi I was moaning. The accommodation was grotty and expensive. The weather was horrendously hot - and then pouring with monsoon rain. And the sea was laced with tiny stingers that pinched at my fresh sunburn from the boat trip over (see above.) The whole place just didn't agree with my (who'd have guessed) pre-menstrual disposition.

After a few sharp email words from David Earl I opened my eyes and found myself pretty much in paradise. Koh Phi Phi is beautiful. No cars, stunning beaches and, perhaps the best bit, Dan and Sarah from Sydney.

Dan and Sarah are my favourite memory of our time in Sydney. They were the two core members of Crew 1702 and are the sweetest, blondest things you'll ever meet. So Duncan and I were pretty excited to learn that they were also on the island. We were even more excited to learn that *their* accommodation was FAR from shabby and involved a swimming pool. Get in. And that's just what we did.

So we caught up with them, had a fancy dinner on the sea front and then hit the buckets. If you know anything about Thailand you know about these buckets. They're a plastic bucket (gasp, no way!) with a bottle of whiskey, a can of coke and a couple of bottles of Thai Red Bull in it. Except the Redbull here gives you a lot more than wings. The stuff sends you completely loopy. It was brilliant. Until the next morning of course.

Feeling Krabi

2007-03-21T09:15:00.000Z

Krabi. There's nothing to say about the town of Krabi really. Except you can be HILARIOUS and call it Crappy. We got a bus there, expecting to want to stay for a whole day, but on arrival all agreed that one night would be more than sufficient. It's dull, my friends. Unless you like rock climbing. Which I don't.

I did, however, meet an Alsatian named David Beckham at the tourist information place. Yes. That's right. Full name, David Beckham. Nickname, Ham. I think this was (easily) the highlight of my stay in Krabi.

Chang chang chang-it-ty chang shoo-bop

2007-03-19T04:48:00.000Z

There's 2 Koh Chang islands in Thailand. One of them everybody goes to. The other, nobody goes to. Apparently the latter is a hidden gem according to a couple that Eve met, who made her promise not to tell too many people about it. Whoops.

So, with this information, we decided to head off, ignoring the normal backpacker route, and investigate.

It should have taken 10 hours from Bangkok. It took 21. So by the time we *eventually* got dropped off on a deserted bit of beach we were all hoping it was going to be worth it. We weren't disappointed.

There's NOTHING there. A few basic shacks on the beach which were as cheap as chips and a few hippies who seemed to have been marooned there for months. And then it's just you, the people you're with and the ocean. For this reason, if you're thinking of going, only consider it with people you won't end up killing and who you don't mind being very close to in a little hut on stilts. We stayed 2 nights. Any more and we may have ended up like the aforementioned.

The girly show

2007-03-16T05:36:00.000Z

A nice Thai lady wrote these signs for us. Without using her hands. Mmmhmmm. That's right.

We felt we couldn't really let Bangkok pass us by without a visit to one of the infamous red light ping-pong shows. So we went. It was expensive to get in. It was expensive to have a drink. And in all honesty, it was a bit un-inpressive. Although Tom seemed to enjoy it...

So basically, whilst the rest of us were doing our GCSE's these girls were learning how to fire darts and pop balloons, blow out the candles on a birthday cake, write messages and make origami hats - all without hands. You know what I'm saying.

I was unsure about going, expecting it to be super seedy. But it really wasn't that bad. It was actually a bit boring. Plus the girls who were performing looked uninterested and like they'd rather be elsewhere. I'd like a little more enthusiasm from someone pulling razor blades out of themselves, please.

But we had a laugh and Eve and I did the whole looking-unimpressed-but-secretly-wondering-how-easy-the-tricks-might-be-to-recreate thing that I'm sure all the girls in the audience were doing. Not that any of the guys noticed.

Thai me up

2007-03-15T05:58:00.000Z

Bangkok. It's nothing like I imagined. To be fair, I've never really sat and imagined what I thought Bangkok would look like, but everyone always goes on about the Koh San road and stuff, so I had an image in my head. It was totally wrong.

We left Siem Reap in a small, rust bucket of a van (think the A-team) which managed to cram 31 people in - and all of their rucksacks. It was extremely hot and uncomfortable. And that was before we got on the pit-holed road that takes you up to the Cambodia/Thailand border. It was the bumpiest, dirtiest, most uncomfortable ride ever. And it went on for hours. Still, crossed the border with no problems, changed buses and then a few hours later rocked up in Bangkok.

It's like LA. Well, it's not really. But coming from under developed Cambodia it is. Really tacky, loads of neon, banging bars, thousands of tourists and crawling with cockroaches. Plus is stinks. I remember someone once saying to me that Bangkok smelt like tramps, and I'm afraid to say it does. It's not nice.

Checked in to a small guesthouse where Eve and I splashed out on a room with air con and then hit Burger King. Wandered about for a bit, down small winding passage ways. Stroke stray cats. Dodged cockroaches. And that was our first night in Bangkok.

After that we didn't do much really. Trawled a market looking for knock off bags for Mrs. Gavs but left empty handed and disappointed. Checked out a huge Buddha where I was asked to cover my shoulders as I was being completely inappropriate (do they not understand that strap marks are completely inappropriate?) And met up with Darren, our friend from London, for a fancy Thai meal which was ace.

But no bags or fake sunnies or Luis Vuitton wallets were bought much to our disappointment. I went to Bangkok and all I got was this lousy fringe.

Ankor What?

2007-03-12T12:07:00.000Z

It's no surprise is it really? You know, that I'd never heard of Siem Reap or Ankor Watt - one of the ancient wonders of the world. But it's not in the top seven wonders, so I can't be *that* much to blame, right? Right.

Yeah, so, Siem Reap is in North Cambodia and is home to a whole load of ancient temple ruins. The main one is Ankor Watt. Basically, you buy a day ticket for $20 or a three day ticket for $40, hire a Tuk Tuk driver for the day (chips - $10) and then scoot about the different sites. And I have to say, it was pretty impressive.

All the sites are much of a muchness really. Really grand. All falling down. Lots of steep steps. Amazing carvings. That kind of thing.

We wandered about in the sweltering heat, stopping literally every 20 minutes for yet another bottle of water (it's hotter than the sun here) until we came to the penultimate site - Tomb Raider. It's where Angelina Jolie came to film one of the movies (it's all about her these days, isn't it?) and it's by far the most amazing. There's trees growing up through all the ruins and stuff. It was magical.

The final site is the biggy - Ankor Watt. Ta daaah! But to be honest, I'm with Angelina and prefer the other one (just one of the many similarities between herself and myself.) Yeah it was massive and grand and impressive - but it lacked character and charm and well, after a whole day in the baking sun we were all a bit tired, filthy and over it.

But it's another one to tick off on my 'Wonders of the World' list. Nearly done all of them now, haven't I?

Boredom in a boat

2007-03-10T05:25:00.000Z

With Tom in tow we decided to head up to a town called Kratie where you can witness - first hand - an endangered species of dolphin that live in the Mekong. Gasp!

I wanted to go, mainly because in our heads we'd created the fact that you could actually swim with these dolphins (which, for the record, don't really look like dolphins - their faces are all round and they have massive smiles. I didn't really like them if I'm honest.) Of course, you can't swim with them. No one ever told us you could.

So we got a six or so hour bus to the town (where there was nothing but pyjama stools) and paid through the nose to go to some rapids to swim in the Mekong (it was a few pebbles and it was filthy - Eve and I didn't go in for fear of contracting Denghi Fever) then for the dolphin watching boat tour extravaganza. We went about two metres away from the shore and saw about three dolphins pop their heads out, miles away. They were blatantly animatronix.

It wasn't worth it. I've had a massive whale pop it's head up in front of me for a stroke for cheaper. This was rubbish. BUT the actual taxi journey to it was amazing, and for me worth every penny of the entire thing. Passing all the little huts on stilts and the unique Cambodian countryside was heart stopping. Karatie you're forgiven.

Pyjama-rama

2007-03-09T05:08:00.000Z

The thing that I love most about Cambodia is that women and children wear their pyjamas ALL DAY. They work in them, have lunch in them, play in them - even ride motorbikes in them. It's ace.

All the markets sell them and they're amaaaazing. Kind of like the Paul Frank ones you'd get in the UK for about sixty quid - but these ones are a couple of dollars.

So we joined them. We only bought the pyjama shorts, mind. But clearly we look like the mutt's nutts.

Guess who's back, back again...

2007-03-08T11:54:00.000Z

Remember Tom everybody? Duncan and I first met him at a hostel in Rio, then we bumped in to him in New Zealand only to discover that Eve also knew him - having met him independently in Guatamala or somewhere. Anyway, we hung with him a bit in Sydney and now he's here! Like Eve, he couldn't get enough of Sam and The Duncs, and flew from Singapore just to travel up Cambodia and Thailand with us. Yay!

So after sniffing us out in Phnom Penh, I acted as his official tour guide around the Killing Fields and then took him to get trigger happy (what *is* it with all our friends?) He also chose to lob a hand grenade. This is the moment the clicker went off when you release it. He thought it was going to explode early and wet himself. How I laughed.

Violently Happy

2007-03-06T11:53:00.000Z

This is Eve. Shooting. She looked far too happy about it for our liking. She shot an AK47 and a hand gun at the local shooting range. And she didn't do too badly, managing to get one of the targets through the head.

I didn't like it. I've never heard anything so loud. And that was through the (incredibly sexy) blue ear muffs. I ran, squealing from the room. It's the second time I've had a gun in my face. Only this time the handler was a lot prettier. With better nails.

Most Haunted

2007-03-01T11:51:00.000Z

The next place we headed to was Kampot, a small town about 3 hours away. There were no buses going that way, so we had to hire a cab for the journey instead, but for about two pounds per person for a door to door service, you can't really complain. We did complain though, we were blatantly being ripped off.

Anyway. Kampot. Dead as a dodo. There's nothing going on here, although Duncan and I spent a nice hour or so wandering around the hot, dusty, dusty streets. It felt good. We were the only foreigners around and attracted quite a lot of attention. We checked out the local temple and the river - and, yeah, then we were done.

The guesthouse was super nice though. We had a nice clean room, with towels and a fan *and* en suite bathroom for - get this - 50p a night each. I think it's our cheapest accomodation yet. No Star Movies though.

So, the thing that everyone comes here to do is Bokor Station. It's this big hill, in the tropical forest that the Khmer Rouge used to inhabit. Right up at the top is an old palace, a derelict guesthouse, church and post office. The Rouge captured the people of the village, took them to the guesthouse and slaughtered them. Only recently has it been really safe to go up to the top. The Khmer Rouge were still hiding in the trees right up until 1993, capturing people that drove up the road.

It takes about 3 hours to get to the top on the back of an open top jeep. The dirt track up is terrible, having been all ripped up by tanks, and Eve and I had to hang on whilst being thrown about as our seats had no backs. It wasn't the height of comfort.

Anyway, when you get to the top, you're in the clouds and there's all this eery mist hanging about the dis-used buildings. The guide told us that the guesthouse was haunted with the souls of the people that had been murdered here, and you'd be totally excused for believing it and getting the serious creeps.

Looked about there for a while, had some lunch, kept an eye out for the wild tigers that live in the forest and then had the uncomfortable jeep ride down (the next day I felt like I'd been spanked by a large plank of wood.) An hour long boat trip down the Mekong finished the day off nicely, although we'd been told that we'd be able to swim. We weren't able to swim. We were a bit miffed about that (it's hotter than the sun here.) But all in all, a sore yet fun day.

I don't think you're ready for this jelly

2007-02-28T11:48:00.000Z

The jelly being this jelly fish that stung me on my right boob. And no, I wasn't ready for that.

So yeah, there we were at the beach, Sihanokville, South Cambodia. It took us about 5 hours to get there from Phnom Penh and was exactly what we expected - a beach, loads of kids selling beads and fruit and stuff, loads of mosquitoes, loads of amputees and not a lot else. It was great for a few days though. Any longer and we would have been bored out of our minds. What am I talking about? We had Star Movies in our room, we would never have been bored.

Other than being glued to the movie channel, we topped up our tans on the golden sands (when I say 'topped up our tans' what I mean was I got so burnt that Duncan described my nose as looking like plastic), had our nails manicured by the local women (I had mine done twice in 2 days - I get to look pretty AND help the local economy), played with the beach kids in the sea and drank Long Island Iced Teas. It was great.

The sea was perhaps the warmest sea I've ever been in. It was like walking in to a tepid bath. So we happily spent ages in there. That was until my chest started throbbing and I looked inside my swimming costume and found said jellyfish nestled there. I've never been stung by a jellyfish before and it really wasn't pleasant. And no, I didn't do what you're meant to do.

The other thing that we spent ages doing was watching all the old, wealthy Western men buy the young, pretty Cambodian women. It was the same in Vietnam, and I'm sure we'll see it in Thailand. It makes me feel a bit sad but, that said, the women seem to be quite happy in rinsing the men for as much as they can. I'm just thankful that I don't have to pretend to be in love with someone for a better life.

And yeah, that was about it with the beach.

Don't mind doing it for the kids

2007-02-27T05:50:00.000Z

When we initially planned our trip Duncan and I were bursting with ideas of how we were going to heal the world, make it a better place, for you and for me and the entire human race. We were going to work at an orphanage in China, do conservation work in the jungle, help out at the children's safe house in Brazil and teach English to whoever needed teaching. To date we've done a big, fat nothing which makes us both feel super bad. So when we passed a sign asking for volunteers to help out that afternoon with the local street kids - doing art and stuff we jumped at the chance.

This whole place is heaving with children. They wander around all dusty and dirty, trying to sell you snide copies of books and grubby postcards. If you want a book, it's okay to buy them (Duncan and I got a photocopy of the India Lonely Planet - okay, so it's piracy, but it saved us money and gave some people dinner that night) but you're told not to just give them money or treats, as this encourages begging. But it's hard, hard, hard not to.

So the programme is set up to play with the kids, in a field for about an hour and a half. Silly games like tag, singing songs with actions like "this is the way we wash our face", doing puzzles, colouring-in and just generally allowing them to be children for a short time.

I was really nervous. I've never been that great with children, unlike Duncan who has a natural gift, and I nearly turned back a couple of times on the walk there. I'm so glad I didn't.

It was amazing. Amazing. Us and about 40 local kids. Lovely kids. Naughty kids. Kids who were desperate just to play and jump all over us. There was one little girl who Duncan and I loved especially. She sat quietly with the two of us, holding our hands and was just perfect. I loved her. Plus she had amazing hair. I'm thinking if I adopt her, I can just use her hair and not buy any more from the hair shop in Shepherd's Bush. She gets a better life and I get natural hair on tap. Everyone's a winner. (You know) I'm kidding.

After helping out, the kids now recognise us on the streets and just want a ruffle of the hair or to cheekily put ice down our t-shirts. One little boy, another favourite of ours, is about the same age as one of my nephews. He's sweet and funny and loveable and cheeky and everything a little boy of that age should be. He also sells his body to make money. It makes me cry just thinking about it. I wanted to take him home and love him and never let anyone touch him ever again. I've never, ever had a maternal instinct. I have an over-whelming one here.

The Killing Fields

2007-02-26T05:48:00.000Z

So having known nothing about Cambodia except for the Angelina thing I didn't have the first idea about The Killing fields or anything that had gone on in this country up until the year I was born. But Eve said she wanted to go to the site of the Cambodian genocide and because it meant another ride through the city in a tuk tuk (love it, don't I?) , I was in.

So, there were these guys right who called themselves the Khmer Rouge. They decided, in a kind of Hitler-stylee way, that Cambodia needed to be full of equal, hard working, everyday people - and any sniff of intelligence was seen as a threat to the country. So, they went about detaining and mass murdering anyone who had been educated, anyone who could speak different languages, anyone who was intelligent (at this point in the story Duncan assured me I would have been fine) - they even captured anyone who wore glasses as they thought this was a sign of knowledge (the joke being, if it was a sign of intelligence, they would have just taken their glasses off.)

They detained thousands of people, and children, in hideous conditions. Tortured them. And then murdered them 15k away in a field, often by beating them to death to save money on bullets. So that was the story.

The actual fields were as you'd expect. A grassy area with loads of pits where they'd dump hundreds of bodies, without heads and stuff. And in the middle of the field is a cabinet full of thousands of skulls and shredded clothing. Yes it was grim, but didn't really move me. It's hard to relate to something that is so alien to everything my life has always been.

We then went to S21. The detention centre. An old brick school, where they kept the people and tortured them. For every captive that they murdered they took a mug shot - and pictures of them being tortured. It was hideous. Thousands and thousands of photos. It was sick.

The conditions - brick cells and shackles - were unbelievable (although the women got cells with doors so, although they were being tortured and murdered, they could wash in private - cheers then.) I crumbled. It was really very upsetting.

Needless to say, we got the tuk tuk back in silence and got drunk.

Back to basics

2007-02-25T05:44:00.000Z

I can tell you one single thing about Cambodia and that's that Angelina Jolie (Pitt) got her son Maddox here. If you'd asked me three days ago what the capital was I couldn't tell you. And if it wasn't for the fact that I'd got to Cambodia on a bus from Vietnam I wouldn't even be able to show you it on the map. (Okay, even though I did get here on a bus from Vietnam I'd probably *still* have difficulties showing you on a map.) So the last few days have been a real education for me.

So yeah - there we were on a small, cramped bus from Ho Chi Minh City to the border. It took about 2 hours to get to the border, and then about 3 hours to get across it. Eve had outstayed her Vietnam visa, which we were told wouldn't be a problem. Sure, it was no problem for the men at the border - they saw it as the perfect opportunity to rip her off, and demanded more dollars "for drinks." (See above - Duncan demonstrating the drinking of a Cambodian beer, much like the ones we assume the border guards purchased with Eve's money.)

From the off, Cambodia feels different. We drove through countryside for miles passing nothing, except a few little houses on stilts and kids lassoing cows in fields. It reminded me straight away of Africa. The rawness. The nothingness. The bare beauty.

Another 3 hours and we were in the capital - Phnom Penh. So yeah, I now know that this is what it's called. I still don't know how it's pronounced. My blood ran cold on arrival. I'd had a quick read of the LP and magpied that there's no taxis in Cambodia. Only motorbikes. So I'd gone a bit mute, bricking the thought of getting on the back of one of the mopeds at night with my massive rucksack. But a barrage of arrow prayers rustled up an amazing luxury tuk tuk which we rode in authentic style through the city to the dark and shady lakeside, the backpacker's choice.

Checked in to a wildly basic guesthouse. No cable TV with Star Movies here guys. In fact, no clean sheets (this is clearly it - I've escaped without scabies for far too long) or shower here - just a bucket of cold water to wash with. I love it. We're taking it back to basics, just like Xtina. Keeping it real, just like Jodie Marsh. That's right.

Miss Saigon

2007-02-20T14:56:00.000Z

She's back.

Look who we've run in to in Ho Chi Minh. It's Evo!

Sam and Duncan's NYE Spectacular

2007-02-16T14:45:00.000Z

Anna and Jodie eat your hearts out. Duncan and I have celebrated two NYE's in the last 2 months. Two. Surely that makes us best?

It's Lunar New Year here in Vietnam and boy do they take it seriously. The actual, hard-core celebrating lasts for 3 days but most people have a two week holiday. Or more. There's flowers everywhere and the city is over run with pigs. Foam pigs. China pigs. Paper mache pigs. It's rather like being in Auntie Rita's bathroom.

We flew back to HCM City and after a very wet-eyed farewell to Cat, Bonnie and Ady (guys, I miss you thiiiiiiiiiiis much) it was time to see the "new year" in. But what's this? Cat's left both Sam and Duncan with a stinking cold? That's right. Duncan and I barely managed to tear our sick butts out of bed for the midnight countdown and fireworks. But we did it. However, we were back in bed within the hour with that annoying 'Happy New Year' song by Abba, running around our heads. And a Happy New Year to you too.

Roses ARE red!

2007-02-14T14:19:00.000Z

Valentines Day.

I have a love for Valentine's Day that rivals the love for my birthday. Thing is, the love for my birthday lasts the entire day (and quite often the entire few days leading up to it, and the entire few days following it also.) My love for Valentine's Day last until about 9.35am - and then that hideous feeling sets in. I never get anything. Well, that's not true. Last year I got a card from my ten year old nephew. Which was amazing. At least *he* loves me. And the year before that I got something from Duncan. Which was also amazing but clearly because he knew that a big fat nothing might actually tip me over the edge and make me do a Britney.

This year I didn't have to worry about no one loving me. I had four people to love me. All day. The five of us spent the day on a romantic boat trip to nearby Cham Island (not so romantic on the way over - I nearly lost my breakfast.) We wandered around the sleepy island town, sunned ourselves, ate freshly caught fish and then snokelled around the stunning, untouched bay. It was actually perfect. Confirmed.

And if the day wasn't romantic enough, it was topped off by a red rose from Bonnie and Ady (they snuck out to the market and bought us each one.) So that's two roses in under two weeks. You guys should come out more often.

(BTW, David - that card wasn't from Sienna Miller. Close though.)

Marble Mountain

2007-02-12T13:44:00.000Z

There's not a lot of time for anything in Hoi An. After breakfast there's a three course lunch to have, and then a few hours after that - there's dinner. I know. I told you. I love it here. But with the fear that I might not be able to get home without booking an extra seat, we decided that we should get out and do something. So we went here. To Marble Mountain.

It does exactly what it says on the tin (don't you just HATE people that say that?) It was a mountain. Made of marble. But it's pretty cool. It's actually more like Swiss cheese than marble - full of caves that you can crawl all the way up to the top and peek out over the sea, pagodas, temples and tranquil gardens. And in the main cave, the light streams in and hits Buddhist monuments. It took my breath away... until Ady's camera started croaking like a frog everytime he took a picture (Duncan had tweaked the settings), which completely ruined the moment - especially for the dude who was having his daily prayer.

So yeah, a lovely morning was had by all and we still found time to get in some lunch en route (course we did) before heading back in to town for our cookery course. Get this, I can now whip up fresh Vietnamese spring rolls, fish cooked in banana leaves and a squid salad. So in case anyone's interested in how those wife skills are coming along - bring on the husband. That's what I say.

Tailor Made

2007-02-10T08:56:00.000Z

After a few days in Saigon, you're ready to get out. Don't get me wrong, I love it there, and as it happens we're back now, but with any city it's a bit bustly and fumey and sweaty for those who like to lead a Five Star lifestyle, daaaahling. So we jumped on an internal flight and found ourself in Hoi An, a stunning riverside town somewhere up north.

We all loved it. Straight away. It was untouched and so charming. Little, dusty winding streets. Tatty old boats on the river. More cheap, amazing restaurants than you could point a jostick at. And lovely, lovely people.

So, I didn't know this (quelle surprise), but Hoi An is home to all of those tailor shops that everyone always goes on about. Even the dogs wear tailor-made clothes. A fiver says you know someone who has "had a replica Armani suit made in South East Asia in about an hour that fits like a glove for around two pounds." Well this is probably where they had it done. I hate clothes shopping, I find it completely soul destroying, so when Cat and Bonnie went in to one of the many tailor shops on our street armed with shirts and dresses that they wanted copied my heart sank.

Anyway, peer pressure got the better of me and I decided to give it a go, figuring that all I had to lose was a couple of American Dollars. I pointed out a skirt in Vogue that I liked, with a top in Cosmo and told the lady that I wanted a black fitted dress that looked something like the two combined, but with a full, 50's style skirt. Fully lined. Had to be flattering. And had to cover the knees yet not look frumpy. I was quietly confident that she'd never do it.

I returned the next morning to find the dress that I've been looking for for years. It fits perfectly. And I think it looks pretty good (although - dur - I didn't take a picture of it, so you'll just have to wait.) Decided to have about five made in different colours, then thought better of it. I never wear dresses anyway. I'm not about to start. Not until I can paint all day in my country house and have lots of Golden Retrievers and can be like Auntie Rita.

Cat got an entire wardrobe made, and Bonnie had a few fitted shirts done. Ady had two shirts tailored in about six different shops. Spot the gay man. All of them looked amazing though. And the whole, entire lot came to about the price of one dress in Topshop. Kerching.

Delta Good(rum)

2007-02-09T08:09:00.000Z

Still happy.

Today rockety rocked. We took a tour (of course we did) up the Mekong Delta river (I think that's what it's called) and it was pretty spesh.

Got picked up at 8am from the hotel (not so good seeing as Duncan and I had hardly slept on our harder than hard mattress - soooo not used to anything other then Five Star these days - plus my colon was in turmoil from the severity of the night before's hot food) and driven to the Delta river. There's something special about this river. It's, like, the largest one in Asia or something and stretches all the way up through Vietnam, Cambodia, Laos and Thailand with people living on it and stuff. It's famous for the floating markets which unfortunately we missed. Because they start at 3am and finish at 7am. I know. What the?

But the tour was great. We were ferried about, drinking coconut milk from coconuts, visiting markets, watching them make coconut candy, trying honey green tea, eating incredible food (Elephant Ear fish), rowing down winding passages in tiny boats, being pulled by horses through villages and holding a MASSIVE python (felt right like Spears, didn't I?) It was ace. And all of it in the sun. It was a totally rotten way to spend the day. Reverse!

The heat is on in Saigon

2007-02-07T03:29:00.000Z

I mentioned it was hot, right? I kind of underestimated just how much. It's ROASTING (not complaining. Honestly not.)

So we polished off all the fanciness of the Windsor Plaza in style by way of a two hour, complimentary, buffet style AMAZING breakfast, a final dip in the pool, a touch more MTV (I'd forgtotten how much I loved Michael Bolton - is that wrong?) and then we ventured out. Into Ho Chi Minh. And man, was it hot? Deffs.

Checked in to our new hotel (not Five Star. What were we thinking?) and then walked in the blistering heat to the Botanical Gardens (slash) Zoo. It was a nice day out. Saw some nice animals. And some even better animal topiary. Love a bit of topiary. Out for dinner (a really hot shrimp soup followed by a really hot green curry followed by a really hot wake up call...) then hit the sack.

Still blissfully happy. That's 2 days in a row now. It's practically unheard of.

Goooodmorning Vietnam!

2007-02-06T03:28:00.000Z

It's *finally* happened. I'm out of cold, phlegm covered China and in the lap of luxury. I can't remember the last time I was this happy. It's truly amazing.

So yeah. What can I say? I think I've already established that I have the best friends in the world, but they just got better. Ady, Cat and Bonnie are here and if that in itself isn't good enough, they're paying for Duncan and I to laud it up in Vietnam's fanciest Five Star hotel for 2 nights. I'm talking bath robes and hour long, full body massages. It's UNREAL.

Don't get me wrong, I totally prefer a skanky hostel where you get to meet other travellers who haven't washed for weeks, but I can totally put up with this for a while. It'd be rude not to, right?

So yeah, met the guys at the Windsor Plaza Hotel (it's got 25 floors, a nightclub, about 5 restaurants etc, etc...) and it was totally emoshe (*finally* more people who abbreviate all words in a completely annoying way) and after the hugging and the catching up it was up to the 25th floor roof terrace bar for drinks and then a three course meal at this amazing French restaurant (on Ady, Cat and Bonnie.) I had my first ever oyster, which made me feel fancy, and loads of amazing wine now that the Straight Edge rubbish is totes (annoying right?) over. And then I got given a rose. Because I'm a lady. A lady that stays in Five Star hotels. It was great.

So yeah, amazing.

The whole of day two was spent in the hotel. I know. I know. But I don't care. Loads of sunshine and swimming in the pool (plus meeting loads of Western couples that are here with the cutest Vietnamese babies that they've just 'picked up' from orphanages. So it's decided. I'm getting one from here. So much easier than getting one from the womb.) Then it was time for my massage...

So the massage. I loved it. All good for me. But Duncan and Ady had a completely different experience. The men's massage area was on a different floor to the women's and now it's no surprise why. They both got offered a "special massage" which Duncan found hilarious and Ady found mortifying. He did a runner.

Out for dinner in Vietnam city centre which is mental. Think Beijing but swap the push bikes for motorbikes. There's 4 million of them. How d'you like them apples Katie Melua? It's mental. They cram so many people on. One went past with 5 people on it, and the person in the middle was holding up a baby. Nuts.

But it's busy and colourful and dusty and hot, hot, hot. And our friends are here. Life really couldn't be better.

Rock bottom

2007-02-02T07:12:00.000Z

My restored faith in China didn't last long. For the record, I'm well aware that I sound like a moany, spoilt child. I am also well aware that I am extremely lucky to be travelling the world and visiting amazing countries like this one. I really, really am. But unfortunately China and I are not getting along. We've tried. But we don't like each other.

The main problem is I'm sick again. First it was a sore throat. Then it was a week of running to the toilet whenever I ate anything. Now it's a stinking cold. And it's hardly a surprise. The people here think nothing of clearing their lungs out and spitting everywhere. This is actually why they all wear those little white SARS masks. Also, the toilets I've been using all look pretty much like this. In fact, this is one of the better ones. Usually they're 'decorated' by people who have a problem with their aim.

As you all know, I'm a fan of long, baggy, tatty jeans. Fellow long, baggy, tatty jean wearers will know that when it rains your trouser bottoms get thirtsy, and drink up the puddle water. They can sometimes absorb to the knee area. It's annoying. Now, have a think. Squat toilets + people that fail to use it properly + long, baggy, tatty jeans. It's no wonder I'm unwell. Trendy, skinny jean wearers - China's all yours.

So yeah. I feel low. And I feel cold. And I feel vulnerable. And I feel sick. And I haven't felt this down since I got my period and had to answer the call of nature in a dingo infested bush on Fraser Island.

If I was on my own I would have changed my flights and left for Vietnam already. And if I wasn't meeting Ady, Cat and Bonnie there I might even of changed my flights and gone home. So it's a good thing I'm not on my own (bless you Duncan for putting up with me) and that I am meeting Ady, Cat and Bonnie in Vietnam. In four days. And counting.

I'm down, but I'll come back brighter.

Hanging tough

2007-01-29T06:40:00.000Z

Ni hao. As already mentioned, once you've done the main stuff in China (Wall - tick, Square - tick, pot noodle - tick, tick) it feels like there's little else to be here for. That, of course, is a ridiculous statement. China is huge and I'm sure has a lot to offer a lot of people, but lack of time coupled with limited train tickets (Chinese New Year is next week so we can't get *anywhere* in a hurry) means that we can't do much. At all.

So after much discussion, we overnightered back to Beijing and then got straight back on a train headed for Datong, a tourist-free town with the promise of a hanging monastry and some caves.

Checked in to a weirdo hotel (think The Shining) and met Sophie - a sweet, ditzy girl from Devon who accompanied us to the famous monastry. This is what it looked like:

This is what it felt like:

Built right up on a cliff face about 2 hours bus ride from Datong. It was cool. And crazily dangerous.

The next day was my favourite. The buddhist caves. Basically there's a whole load of little caves (45) all carved out of a mountain. So what? Well, in these 45 caves there are over 52,000 buddhas to be found. And it is AMAZING. Seriously, it's the only thing worth going to Datong for. Maybe even the only thing worth going to China for. It blew my mind.

Some of the statues are the size of an office block. The others the size of sparrows. Others are so worn away, they resemble ET. All are pain stakingly chipped out of the rock and are amazing. Just amazing. But if you are ever fortunate enough to go, don't bother looking for the 'secret' bit of the Great Wall which the Lonely Planet claims is 15 minutes walk from the entrance to the caves, just lying around in a field. "You can't miss it," they say. You can, and you probably will.

Warriors come out to play

2007-01-27T06:10:00.000Z

(I know, I know - there's a red line through it. I like it like that. It's 'arty'. Like that car advert they used to show in the cinema. Remember that one Duncan?)

The Terracotta Warriors. Now, correct me if I'm wrong mum, but didn't 2 of them rock up for some exhibition in Bournemouth when I was a kid? Didn't we go and see them? And didn't it turn out that they were fakes?

Anyway, because these are the real ones, Duncan and I felt we kind of *had* to go and take a visit. So, we took an overnight sleeper train (plush) down to Xi'an. Xi'an is WAY better than Beijing. It's completely different. Everyone there is really young and trendy and sporting wicked, futuristic haircuts. It's the way we like it. All our friends are cool and trendy and good looking, and quite frankly Duncan and I don't like to be surrounded by anything less. So it was a welcome change.

However, the people there were obsessed with us. It was how I imagine Victoria Beckham feels. They ran to shop windows as we passed, pointing and giggling. They even stopped for photos with us. It was great. It's exactly how I've always imagined my life being.

So. The Warriors were as expected. Loads of them, all put back together, all different, all in rows. Don't get me wrong. They are amazing and the whole idea behind them I find phenomenal (you know the story right? Some king commissioned a load of people to create a whole army to guard his grave. There's shed loads. Each one unique. It's quite something.) But when you're finally faced with them it's kind of like "oooh, cool! Wowser! Shall we go and get some lunch?"

(Here I am with lots of older men. Just the way I like it. Just call me Anna Nicole.)

But I really enjoyed it. I did. And it was fun getting there and back on the local buses (travellers, say no to organised tours.) A good day was had by all.

Summer Lovin'

2007-01-23T07:59:00.000Z

It's bad, isn't it? But I'm a bit over China already. After doing the Wall, the Square and the Forbidden City there's really little to do in Beijing. Apart from freeze. Which we're doing well I might add. Anyway, as we're stuck here waiting for our Vietnamese visas we need to make the most of it, so we jumped on a little local bus (Ni hao!) and took an hour journey to visit the Summer Palace.

I was convinced it was going to be snoring and look exactly the same as the Forbidden City. But I was so wrong. It was spectacular (Duncan's new favourite word). So as I understand, the Summer Palace was a place that was built outside of Beijing for the rich and royal folk to hang out in when the heat got too much in the summer. It's a park, basically, full of beautiful temples and caves and gardens and winding steps and paths and Budhas and a massive, massive lake. And it's exactly how you imagine China to be. Really oriental and charming and pretty.

Of course, we weren't exactly escaping the hot, hot heat of the summer so we'd timed it to get there for sunset which, over the frozen lake was pretty erm, spectacular. I loved it. And it totally restored my faith in China. Well done China.

The Great Wall

2007-01-20T03:15:00.000Z

'He who has not climbed the Great Wall is not a true man' - Mao Zedong.

Get over yourself, Mao. Clearly you have no fear of heights.

I've always wanted to see the Great Wall of China. I think that when we were booking our trip it was one of the only things I said I wanted to do (I know, I know, I claimed that apart from the big JC and holding a koala there was little else. I lied.) But when Duncan expressed an interest in doing the million mile hike to it (of course he did) I figured I'd be making my own way there.

So I opted for one of those touristy trips that they tell you to avoid in the Lonely Planet because it's padded out with a load of other things intended to get you to spend cash. To be honest, it didn't really bother me. I got to see loads of other stuff (which I'll gloss over in a minute) and amongst these was The Wall.

When we rocked up at the foot of the wall in Badaling I have to be honest, my blood ran cold. I hate hiking and treking and slogging it up steps and the look of it was pretty horrendous. But as I started trotting up the steps it wasn't bad at all (it's surprising what you can do without altitude.)

So there I was. All alone. In the freezing cold. One glove on to avoid my hand freezing to the rail. Quiet. Exhilerated. Me. On the Great Wall. Excited about reaching the top and getting to see it snaking off in to the distance over miles of mountains, like you do in the postcards... And then it happened. My legs went to jelly and the fear set in. I stopped a few times, and then tried to push on, but I physicaly couldn't. The thought of coming down the steeper than steep steps was way too much for me. So I bailed.

Of course, I'm gutted that I didn't get to see the wall in all it's glory. But at that moment the fear was so much, that I don't regret my decision. You see, a single trip on one's tatty, baggy jeans and you're history. Allen Carr says about fear: The bird that doesn't jump gets eaten. So I jumped. It's not that great anyway, let's face it. It can't even be seen from space. That was a myth. Fact.

The rest of the day was spent bussing about to see other typical Chinese things such as watching workers carve the precious stone Jadeite into amazing sculptures:

Watching similar workers painfully glue copper shavings on to Chinese vases (it takes them months to finish just one):

Visitng the Ming Tombs:

Seeing how they open oysters and crack out fresh water pearls (surprisingly this was probably the thing I most enjoyed. And I got to keep the pearls - bonus!):

And finally, visitng some ancient Chinese doctor who can tell you everything that's wrong with you by just checking your pulse. Seriously, he was quite something. He outed one woman in the group for having just one kidney by just sniffing her, practically. I didn't have my free consultation. I'd rather not know. Thanks all the same, doc.

噢哦噢哦::中国小女孩

2007-01-19T10:23:00.000Z

郝妮. 我们在中国. 我不明白的事. 所以这样的:从珀斯飞香港. 不抖动. 香港飞往北京. 不抖动. 艾伦尔,难怪大家都装. 所以唉,一切良好的飞前,然后--我们. 中国第一件事是上午06时,在寒冷侵袭我们. 这有点像从热休克身体、热点热珀斯. 第二件事给我们打(非常接近),约100万自行车. 香港机场与市中心之间胡同我要算两次点火米即多达我比她好. 事实. 报到.睡过. 起身. 然后等待兴奋的邓肯醒醒所以能去探索. 这就是我们应做的事,以后我们也穿上了衣服**我们拥有一切,因为它的所freakin'冷. 我心肠北京. 直截了当. 对,是灰如预期. 不错,这就有点肮脏如预期. 是的,人们到处吐痰如预期. 但这种神奇的魔术,你能感受到来自客,只是走在街上. 小红灯笼在线路上,疯狂车手垃圾繁忙道路和周围的孩子就溜冰冻湖泊. 令人震撼. 第二天,我们没有什么东西,你必须做的一切是在北京对近在咫尺. 因为我不懂历史, 政治或任何真正重要的东西我只叫他快步沿着邓肯背后问题大半天. 天安门广场-大. 无聊. 冷. 但显然有很多深入. 紫禁城-再次大规模. 载荷典型、建筑物和木屋中寻找龙/狮球在事物的嘴巴. 有些真是美丽. 它涵盖一些脚手架. 一切真是寒冷. 产成品一天喝绿茶和吃了不起,了不起食物的方式便宜筹码--筷子. 我现在亲. 你要,否则你挨饿. 我学到很快.

Now you know how I feel. We're in China. And I don't understand a thing.

So it went like this: flight from Perth to Hong Kong. Not a jitter. Flight from Hong Kong to Beijing. Not a jitter. Allen Carr, no wonder you were loaded. So yeah, all good on the flying front and then - there we were. In China. The first thing that hit us at 6am was the cold. A bit of a body shock from the hot, hot heat of Perth. The second thing to (very nearly) hit us, was about a million bicycles. Between the airport and our Hutong downtown I must have counted twice as many as Katie M. Which means I'm better than her. Fact.

Checked in. Slept. Got up. Then waited excitedly for Duncan to wake so we could go exploring. And that's what we did, after we'd put on *all* of the clothes we own as it's so freakin' cold.

I hearted Beijing. Straight away. Yes, it's grey as expected. Yes, it's a bit dirty as expected. And yes, the people spit all over the place as expected. But it has this amazing magic that you can feel from the off, just walking down the street. Little red lanterns line the pavements, crazy cyclists litter the busy roads and kids skate around on frozen lakes. It's amazing.

The following day we did the stuff that you kind of have to do in Beijing which is all on our doorstep. Because I know nothing about history, or politics or anything of any real importance I just trotted along behind Duncan asking him questions for most of the day.

Tiananmen Square and The Gate of Heavenly Peace - massive. Boring. Cold. But a lot went down there apparently.

Forbidden City - again massive. Loads of typically Chinese looking huts and buildings and dragon/lion things with balls in their mouths. Some of it was really beautiful. Some of it covered in scaffolding. All of it was really cold.

Finished the day off drinking green tea and with a trip to the 'best' Peking duck restaurant in town... Duncan and I were both sick in the night. Bleurgh.

(For those of you who do very little at work and kill time on the internet - amongst others David Earl this means you, checking your emails whilst you should be teaching children, shame on you - why not copy and paste all of the Chinese above into the Google language translator? The direct translation made me laugh. In fact, scrap that. If you want to kill time and laugh check out www.catsthatlooklikehitler.com. It's way better than my blog. )

Big trouble in little China

2007-01-18T01:36:00.000Z

Duncan and I are in China. And it RULES. However, what *doesn't* rule is the internet sitch. Apparantly after some fire in an internet cafe a little while ago, loads of places have been shut down so the internet is hard to find. When you DO find it, it's slow as slow can be due to some earthquake a few months ago that ruined all connections. Or something.

So that's why there's no pictures or info on here yet. So you'll just have to wait to see Duncan and I struggling with chopsticks, in Tiananmen Square, checking out the Forbidden City, dodging the many bicylces on the streets (so you were right, Katie Mellua, now shut up and go away), being heroes on the Great Wall and throwing up after our Peking duck experience. It's all going off here in Beijing. You'd better believe it.

West is (so not) best

2007-01-14T10:35:00.000Z

It's our last week or so in Australia and when we booked our mammoth trip back in January we had a spare flight, so we whacked it in to finish our Australian tour on the West coast, in Perth. What a mistake.

I don't think I have any pictures of Perth (I nicked this one off Flickr - sorry to whoever took it.) And there's a reason for this. It's rubbish. There's nothing going on. The supermarket shuts at a 5 on a Sunday. And if you're the wrong side of the train tracks you'd be forgiven for thinking that you were in deepest, darkest Texas. The people are strange. It's weird. And I don't like it.

That aside, the YHA hostel is pretty nice and it has a pool. And yes, the weather is STEAMING. I'm brown, brown, brown again. So it's not all bad.

Anyway, Duncs and I took a 6 hour bus down the coast and spent a few days in sleepy Margaret River. That was nice. Except there's NOTHING to do there except wine tasting. And because I'm not drinking, we didn't do any of that. We just lay by the pool.

So anyway, we've been all like "it's cool, it's only for a few days and then we fly to China on Monday where it's cheap and we can be proper travellers again, whoopee!" That was until Friday, when we got an email from Ady asking if we'd had any problems getting our visas for Asia. Visas for Asia?

We need visas for Asia?

We need visas for Asia.

Yep. You've guessed it. We don't have visas for Asia. So we spent a stressful Friday in sleepy Margaret River, phoning the embassy, changing our flights and kicking ourselves that we now have to spend another 2 days in rubbish Perth. But it's all sorted now. Kind of. Tomorrow we'll get our visa and Wednesday we'll be on our way to China. All minus 8 degrees of it. Ouch.

In the meantime, the best thing I've got out of Perth is this book by Allen Carr. I was reading some book on how women are competitive (it wasn't telling me anything I didn't already know) but swapped it when Duncan magpied this at the hostel. I read it in a matter of hours. It's BRILLIANT. Allen Carr tells me that my fear of flying is totally rational and anyone who claims that they've never been a tiny bit fearful of flying is either lying or a fool. Ha. He then went on to rid me of my FOF (Fear Of Flying.) Bring on the flight to China on Wednesday. I've clearly been brainwashed and am totally up for it.

Neighbours, everybody needs good neighbours

2007-01-05T10:16:00.000Z

There was a time when I, like everyone else, was obsessed with Neighbours. I come from one of those families who (quite rightly) sit down and eat their evening meal around the table in the evening, so they can discuss what happened during the day with their family members. That was until I hit 15 or something and obviously threw my youngest-child-only-daughter power around and persuaded mum and dad to watch Neighbours over dinner. The chat stopped and we all became more interested with who Mrs. Mangle was annoying than whether or not I was going to pass my G.C.S.E's.

Anyway, during our three days of Melbourne fun with Mark, he'd scheduled in a surprise trip to RAMSAY STREET! That's right. It's filmed just 30 or so minutes away from his house. I nearly wet myself with excitement.

So the trip kicks off with a bus journey to Ramsay Street (an actual cul-de-sac where normal people live) and on the way you get to choose an episode of Neighbours to watch. I *really* wanted to see Bouncer's Dream (the one where Bouncer the dog eats some magic mushrooms and has a dream about Mrs. Mangle) but they didn't have this one. So we lumped for Scott and Charlene's wedding ("Suddenly..") Then we went to Erinsborough High School. This is me there. I'm practically Ann. Although I'd prefer to be Flick.

Then it's a wander around the street for the neccessary photos, before hopping back on the bus and watching another episode (this time - Helen Daniel's death. Hannah martin, aka Button, claims she'd noticed her grandmother was dead but didn't want to say anything. Well done then.) But perhaps the most exciting part of the whole thing was that we got to meet Libby Kennedy. That's right. Libby Kennedy. She's not in it anymore, which I thought was a bit of a gip, but seeing as I stopped watching it years ago and wouldn't know any of the current cast members this suited me just fine. Don't even pretend you're not jealous.

Food Fight!

2007-01-04T00:39:00.000Z

So after our sad Sydney farewell, we got on a 17 hour bus and headed down the coast for Melbourne. That's right. We could have spent about a fiver more and got a 2 hour flight, but these days it's all about saving money.

Anyway. Who was waiting for us in Melbourne? Mark was! Mark, for those of you not in the know, is our dear friend from Brighton. I think the last time I saw him was at my pink birthday party/gathering in London a few years back. The year that Duncan surprised me in front of our guests with a dead fox. I get the feeling Mark - who is a massive animal loving, vegan, environmental warrior - didn't really approve. But he smiled anyway, because he's like that.

So yeah. We spent three amazing days with Mark and his sweet housemates Jill and Shelley. We soaked up beautiful, colourful Melbourne, checked out some art galleries, read comics, ate loads of organic stuff, wandered around eco sites, dipped in the sea and watched Labyrinth ("and should you ever need us...")

It was the best three days I've had since being away... I promised Mark I'd say that, and I'm a lady of my word.

So long, farewell, auf wiedersehn, goodbye

2007-01-03T00:22:00.000Z

The fat lady has sung on our time in Sydney. Boo to her. Who invited her anyway?

That's right, the time has come for us to pack up our stuff (how an earth did I get everything in my rucksack in the first place?) and move on to Melbourne. If I'm honest, Duncan and I are both dragging our heels a bit - and if we weren't so excited about meeting Ady, Bonnie and Cat in Vietnam, we'd stay longer. Who'd have thunk it?

Had a bit of a get together down at Side Bar to say goodbye to all the amazing people we've met. And they all came. It was quite something. Duncan honey, we *are* popular. Plus, get a load of this, I was stone cold (Steve Austin) sober. That's right kids, my feet are still firmly on that wagon (even though it was my leaving party and hours before Daniel and the flatlettes had given Duncan and I a huge bottle of vodka and a bottle of Baileys.) What was more sobering though was the state of Eve. She was enjoying herself to the max (nothing wrong with that, lovely girl) but I'm glad I stayed on the pints of water and can remember saying goodbye to all the incredible people I've spent the last couple of months with.

I spent the end of the evening sobbing uncontrollably as the time came to say goodbye to the kids from Harbour Street flat. Especially Dan who I am so fond of. Oh yeah, and that Rachael girl that Fran introduced us to. She triggered the tears (you witch, making me cry at my own party.)

So yeah. That's that. Haven't worked or partied or done half as much as I'd wanted to, but it was great.

Livin' on the edge

2007-01-02T05:27:00.000Z

I'm practically a member of the LostProphets. I've gone Straight Edge for a month. That's right. You heard. Did I say I was going to try this before? I think I did. But I guess the start of January is as good a time as any to try something so ridiculous...

But hang on. What's this? Tonight is my last night in Sydney. So we've just been over to the flat to see the guys for the last time. They gave us our Christmas presents as we haven't seen them since Christmas Eve. A bottle of Vodka for me. A bottle of Baileys for Duncan. Great. Then tonight it's our leaving drinks. Everyone's coming out. Great. Mine's a soda water.

Where's your head at?

2006-12-31T05:11:00.000Z

Sydney. New Year's Eve. It's, like, the best place on the planet to be. Right? Right. I think I'm correct in saying that it houses the largest firework display in the world, so being here for the big NYE is pretty spesh.

So what did I do? I missed the whole thing.

Basically, ages ago we heard that Basement Jaxx were playing at a festival called Shore Thing on Bondi. It was part of the reason we planned to be in Sydders for New Year. We LOVE the Jaxx. Duncan and I saw them at the Wireless festival in Hyde Park last summer and were blown away. Anyway, tickets sold out in an instant. When we got to Sydney we heard that a second batch of tickets were going on sale, so we queued for ages - and didn't get any. Boo.

So, hope for the Jaxx were dashed. Eve was gutted (they're her fave and the main reason she'd agreed to come and meet us) and everything else was either really expensive or sounded rubbish (Judge Jules? No thanks.) That was until 2 days before NYE. Eve and I were in reception, dancing to Basement Jaxx on the radio and giving it the whole "Boo! This could have been us at New Year!" when someone over heard us and said that they were desperate to get rid of two tickets. B-b-b-b-b-b-bingo bango!

So $150 dollars each later (eek) and Eve and I had our NYE wish come true. We were Bondi bound. On the actual day people were up at 7am to head down towards to quay and stuff to wait for the fireworks at midnight. Nutters. People don't even wait that long to watch a Bon Jovi concert. By 9am there was something like 10,000 people waiting to get in to the Botanical Gardens. Blurp.

Anyway. Pottered about in the day. Had a sober conversation with Dave, which ruled. Went over to Pott's Point and had a lovely lunch with Adam and Amanda Fry (used to work with them both at Sugar, didn't I?)

Next, had a few drinks with Eve, Duncan, Jenna and James on the balcony and then it was time... headed off at 8.30 for Bondi! How excitement. You'd think, wouldn't you? Except for a) by the time I got to the bus stop I was desperate for the toilet and the public one was out of order b) there were LOADS of screaming 15 year olds all drunk and going the same way as us c) after waiting for the bus for, like, ever we realised that the bus to Bondi had been re-scheduled for a different stop d) I had no idea where this stop was e) when we eventually found the stop the bus took ages f) when the bus finally came along all the 15 year olds boarded and spent the entire journey singing "where's your mo-bile?" and "show your red-pants" and other 'hilarious' variations to the "Where's your head at?" tune g) I sat in vomit on the bus and got it all over my wrist. So yeah. New Year's Eve didn't start with a bang.

The set up at Bondi was pretty amazing though. It was like a proper festival on the beach and once I'd got through the gates, used the loo and bought a Redbull it was all good. Rockety Rock. At midnight we got fireworks too, although not as spectacular as the main ones I fear, and then the Jaxx came on! Whoop! It was amazing. Eve and I hugged each other and danced and squealed - and then turned around to find some bloke urinating all over the backs of our bare legs. Nice. Welcome to 2007.

The set wasn't as good as when I'd seen them in London, but it was still a pretty cool way to see in the New Year. Seeing the gorilla was my favourite part. I got very excited. Where's your head at? I'm still not really sure.

Bus back was mental. There were hundreds of people waiting to get back to the city. Sucked to be us. But eventually an empty one came past at about 2.30am and we piled on, with Tom from Brazil. All good. Back to the hostel. Drank champs until 6am and then decided to gate crash the bar Duncan was working in. So that's where we went, and danced to RnB until 8.30am. Kriss Kross'll make ya Jump Jump.

So yeah. That was New Year's Eve. Bit gutted that I missed the display. But I guess I can come back and do that anytime. It was good, man. Happy New Year.

Come...come...come in to my world...

2006-12-28T06:31:00.000Z

It's just suddenly dawned on me that apart from the odd picture of the Opera House, which let's face it we've ALL seen before (snoring!) you guys have, like, no idea of where I am. Or what I see everyday. Or where I eat the 5 dollar steaks. So here we go. Samantha Wood, this is your (current) life...

Our road. Pitt Street.

The hostel building from a distance. It's like Buckingham Palace, right?

The MAZE hostel.

Global Gossip next door where I use the internet. I'm there now.

World Square, over the road, where we do our shopping.

Coles. Our supermarket in World Square.

Gloria Jeans. My favourite coffee place.

Hot Dollar where you can get anything. Rather like G&T's. Plus home of "The Surprising Leg."

Scruffy's where we go at 5am for a final drink or eat steak for $5.

Oz Turk. Best kebabs in the world. Even better than Turkey.

And finally, Paddy's Market where everyone goes to get anything.

Christmas Day, Christmas Day...

2006-12-25T00:45:00.000Z

...what do you do on Christmas Day?

I wake up early and rub my eyes. I open my stocking with big surprise.

And shout hip hip hooray!

I didn't do any of the rest of the song, apart from "I eat some turkey, pudding and pie - and shout hip hip hooray" but that was a bit later. And I didn't actually shout hip hip hooray.

So yeah. I'm lying there, fast asleep on Christmas morning and my phone starts going off at, like, 10am. I pick it up sleepily and guess who it is? Evo. At first I don't really get what's going on (Christmas Eve was a big one, okay?) and then realise that she's here, in the kitchen and that I should have been up at 8am to greet her. Whoops.

Hot foot it in a haze down the stairs with a stocking for her, and one for Dunners, that have been stashed under my bed for weeks. Along with the parcel that rocked up at the Maze for me from the lovely David Earl. And there they are - Duncan and Eve, sat in the kitchen. And immediately it's like old times. Hip hip hooray!

Open our presents. Eve got a load of things from her mum. Duncan got a parcel from Mooms with bits and pieces in - and some body wash for me. Thanks Mooms. Duncan got me a T-shirt I'd seen ages ago and loved. It says "My parents beat me and I turned out okay." I normally hate joke t-shirts but found it funny. Because it's true. (I'm clearly kidding. I never needed a smack, I was such an angel...) He also got me a Bundaberg Rum beach towel to remind me of Australia. Bless him.

So then I open the parcel from Dave. I can barely contain my excitement. I love post and he'd sent it to the Maze ages ago. Inside was a My Chemical Romance mug (because he knows I'm ROCK), a snowman finger puppet (so I don't forget what snowmen look like), a Sidney snake finger puppet (to scare away the deadly spiders) and an AMAZING letter. I loved it. But my favourite part was the Dave-made card which had a picture of me on the front. Dave - you're a creative genius and you made my day. Thank you.

I'd sent Dave a parcel too. I can tell you what was in it because I told him when I called him later on Christmas day after too many glasses of champagne (mum and dad fyi, I tried to call you guys a few times but it wouldn't connect.) I bought Dave this fake, plastic leg that you trap in drawers and car boots and doors and stuff. It's hilarious. It's called "The surprising leg - so realistic, you'll be astounded." Duncan and I laughed for about half an hour when we saw it in the Hot Dollar shop. So I bought it for Dave as I knew he'd appreciate such a juvenile gift, and sent it. But on the custom's declaration sticker on the outside of the parcel, instead of just writing "toy" or "gift" I put "fake, plastic leg." So no wonder it hasn't turned up. Idiot.

So back to the day. Parcels were opened. Eve and I caught up. And then Jason came along, his normal stressy self, to set up the champagne breakfast and buffet lunch for the hostel. I helped as best I could, but Duncan took over - opening bottle after bottle of champs for everyone. It was great.

Stuck on a dress (I'd bought one for the day. I know...), grabbed some champs and the gift I'd bought them and made my way in the hot, hot heat over to Allen and Wendy Dodd's house. Originally when they'd invited me for Christmas day I'd declined, wanting to do the whole Bondi thing with friends. But as the day had got closer I fancied a bit of a family gathering, and so decided to take them up on their kind offer - and it was great. Allen greeted me with a stocking full of presents and a glass of pink champagne, and we opened gifts and chatted until lunch. Then followed the full festive food works with more wine and champs. Then we watched home movies of their kids growing up. It was like a proper Christmas - with Christmas hats and a gran and everything. I loved it so, so much.

Staggered back full, happy and tipsy in the hot sun at about 5pm and had to hit the sack for a snooze before being woken for some more drinks by Duncan and Eve. But that didn't last long. After a couple more glasses of bubbly and 'that' phone call to Dave, I went to bed again at about 8pm. But the day had been great. Hip hip hooray.

Christmas Eve

2006-12-24T07:42:00.000Z

It's Christmaaaas!

So, Christmas Eve was spent getting little presents for the crew at the flat (Sarah, Dan, Kisty, Kelly, Ryan, Jess, Lisa and James) and then getting ready for the Booze Cruise. To be honest I wasn't really feeling it, but because I'm on the Ent's team I didn't have much choice. Sucks to be me. Plus, I'd managed to flog about 40 tickets for the cruise, raking in the commission, so felt I should go and party with the poor backpackers I'd totally ripped off. Yeah, sorry about that guys - made a total mint out of you, didn't I?

The gang had all decided on going dressed as gangsters. I wasn't feeling that either so went against the flow and dressed as a punk as I had done for the Maze fancy dress party two days previously. No one gets it though. They just think it's me being me. I guess it kind of is.

So yeah. The boat was rammed and sweaty and rowdy and I felt like a sixth former again. I hated it. Until the free wine was flowing. Then I loved it, didn't I? So after that, four hours later, I nipped in for one at the Gaff (totally lost everyone) and then on to Milk (totally found everyone) where I hooked up with Duncan, AKA Harry Highpants (his work mates have called him this because of his Simon Cowell-esque work trousers. I love it.) We then hit Stonewall, the gay bar I can't believe I've only just been too (it was brilliant) where I ran in to this dude. Remind you of anyone famous?

Finally Duncan put me in a cab and paid the driver to get me home. Thanks, honey. And apart from ripping it up to some Christmas songs behind reception with Steve, Gordon and Jason - that was my Christmas Eve. And to be fair, it was pretty cool.

The Christmas bells are ringing...

2006-12-23T07:27:00.000Z

I love Christmas. I remember distinctly being, like, five or something and watching the BBC news on Christmas Eve at about 6pm after tea. They had this shot of a pair of Santa boots crunching along in the snow and the newsreader was all like "he's on his way kids!" It was too much for me. I had a fit - tears and everything. I was so excited. My big brother Dave had to carry me to bed.

And every year after that it's been pretty special. The year I got my first Carebear (Cheer Bear) in my stocking. The time I found the carrot I'd left out for the reindeers in the flower bed half eaten. Having to wait for all family members to be present to open our gifts - and being annoyed as both brothers were never in the room at the same time. Crystal Barbie. Crystal Ken. Christmas Eve, eating curry dip and onion rings with Paula. Christmas night, drinking vodka and erm, more vodka with Nat and Steve. It's all been so good.

But not this year. It doesn't feel like Christmas at all really. Don't get me wrong - I'm in Sydney, it's great, but it's a wee bit weird. As much as I love Christmas at home (see above) I have spent a good few years wishing I was somewhere else. Wondering what it would be like. And to be honest, so far it's a bit rubbish. It doesn't feel like Christmas because it's hot and I have no-one to buy presents for. Sucks to be me.

So to try and make ourselves feel a bit more festive we took these. It didn't really work. I just felt like an idiot.

Malcolm Smalley

2006-12-16T06:37:00.000Z

Duncan and I practically have our own language. I'm sure it's pretty frustrating for everyone else involved (did I say frustrating? I meant annoying) but that's what you get when you live in someone's pocket for six or so years.

For example, if something happens to be really gross I'd be like "Duncan, it was totally 'in the state of Denmark'." And he knows what I mean. I suppose that one's quite obvious, right? (Hamlet. Act I, Scene 4: Marcellus says "Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.") But there's loads of others. We could have our own phrase book.

So anyway, Duncan worked with this guy called Malcolm Smalley in Brighton I think. And from then on, for some reason, if ever Duncan and I want to refer to something as being on the small side of things we'll call it a Malcolm Smalley. For example, if Duncan were to tell me he'd eaten a cheese straw at work I'd be jealous because I love cheese straws (of course I do.) If then he wanted to make me feel better by telling me it was a bit small so not really worth it he'd say "don't worry, it was a bit of a Malcolm Smalley." You dig?

We try and remember not to use this sort of language in everyday life, but it becomes habit. So when I was working at Sugar opposite the very lovely Laura Macbeth and she'd chat about her brother Malcolm who lives in Sydney I'd be like "What? Malcolm Smalley?" Just because in my head, these two words naturally go together. So from then on Laura and I would refer to her brother as Malcolm Smalley. You can see where this is going can't you?

That's right. I've spent a good few years sat opposite Laura talking about this brother of hers in Sydney, Malcolm Smalley, and the other night we hooked up with him! It was rad. We'd exchanged numbers via Laura and agreed to meet in the Green Park bar, where we were drinking with Adam Williams (also of Sugar fame.) But because I had no idea what he looked like every time a guy came in to the bar and had a bit of a look around I stood up and waved. I approached four different boys that night (unlike me...) and none of them were Malcolm Smalley. Finally he arrived, bringing Laura's best friend from Scotland Pammy who I'd already met in London a while back. So yeah, see above - here we all are.

Had a few drinks, a bit of a chat and an "isn't Laura just the best?" kind of gush. He then asked me if at work we all used to call Laura 'Lozenge', as if it was an obvious adaptation of her name. I found it a bit confusing, she's always just been Laura or MacB to me. So I traded and told him about the Malcolm Smalley thing. He didn't really get it either. But it didn't really matter. We had fun all the same.

Cos she's filthy, oooh, and she's gorgeous

2006-12-15T05:17:00.000Z

Meet Rachael. Our new BFF (that's Best Friend Forever, for those of you not in teen.)

She's basically Fran Babb's best friend. Now I (G)love Fran Babb, so when she said that her BF (Best Friend) Rachael was coming to live in Sydney and that we should all hook up, I kind of felt obliged. What would Jesus do? So we took her along to Indie Night about three weeks ago, and now we can't get rid of her.

She follows Duncan to raves. She stalks us weekly at Indie Night. She literally texts me daily just to see "what I'm up to" and she makes me go in to strip clubs in the afternoon as she enquires about waitressing jobs (yeah, right.) Fran honey - that wasn't the deal.

And the worst bit is that in about three weeks we're going to have to say goodbye to her. And it will feel a bit like missing a limb because she's become such a limpet. So Rachael, leave us alone.

(Clearly I'm hilarious. We ADORE her. Can you tell?)

Working girl

2006-12-04T02:36:00.000Z

So guess what? As well as being in at Smash Hits again this week (which is where I'm tip-tappety-tapping from now having just transcribed an interview with Australian Idol winner Damien - how excitement) I now have *another* job. That's right. At the weekend Jason (the events manager at the hostel) asked me to be his assistant. Get in.

Basically, the job involves working 9 hours a week. I have to chaperone The Gospel pub crawl on a Tuesday night, do the Bondi to Coogee coastal walk on a Thursday (groan) and then help Jason at the free Coogee beach BBQ on a Saturday. And that's pretty much it. Apart from be friendly and chat to people at the hostel yadda, yadda, yadda (which is why they approached me about the job apparently. Manageress Tiffany was like "I get this energy from you...")

In return I get MY OWN PRIVATE ROOM FOR FREE. I'm so chuffed. The aforementioned sweaty, stinking pitt of an 8-bed dorm that I had resigned myself to being in until January 3rd was really getting to me. Like really. Now I have my own cool, quiet, breezy room and it's lush. I've unpacked all of my stuff and finally feel like I'm living somewhere and can get a good night's sleep. I also get about 90 bucks a week, which isn't much, but considering I'm not forking out for accomodation and have nearly all my days free to freelance, it's all A-OK.

The only thing that saddens me is that Duncan and I are separated. Just like we were at John Menzies. It's cool though. In fact I kinda like it. Because I could spend every waking moment of the rest of my life with that boy (as you all know) but I love it when we email and text each other too and when we're in the same room every day and night (babe) there's no time to do that stuff as well. So now there's a bit of distance bewteen us (shar - like a flight of stairs) I've bought myself a mobile phone so we can keep in touch. You know, important stuff like "Just woken up. Come up and see me. Bring water."

Steak and Sydney

2006-11-29T06:54:00.000Z

So. We've been in Sydney now for over 2 weeks I think and I haven't blogged about any of it. Not because I haven't had time. I've had a whole heap of time I could have done it in. I just haven't really felt like it. You know, it's strange. I feel like I'm living here (which I guess I am) and I'd never feel the need to do an online diary at home in London, so I guess I haven't really felt the need to here. So, I've picked out a couple of highlights (Allen Dodd and Smash Hits) and they've got their own blog entry, but the rest I'll scramble in to one. Ready? Let's go...

We arrived in Sydney with the van. We were bang excited when we turned up and straight away drove over Harbour Bridge (tick) and snapped the Opera House (tick) and were then like "great - there's nowhere to park." So we headed over towards Bondi Beach and camped at a car-park at nearby Clovelly for 2 nights. So this was our bedroom...

...pretty nice, eh? Hmmmm. You'd think, wouldn't you? Until you get up at 3am to go for a quick wee outside the van (when you've got to go, you've got to go) and find a dodgement man parked up in a car next to you. Think he thought I was there for other reasons. Bow Wow. Anyway, apart from that it was all good. Who am I kidding? It was horrible. The van was cold at night and then like a sauna / light box from 5am. So I was glad when we gave it back on day three.

We then headed in to the centre of Sydney City to a hostel called MAZE. It's well named. I think it's fair to say that pretty much everyday I've been there now I've got lost. It's full of winding passages and loads of rooms which just seem to go round and round in circles. It's also full of cockroaches and grub. Anyway, it looked fun and was fairly cheap so we booked in.

There we met the Kiwis who we became firm friends with after dragging them along to Indie Night in Kings Cross. I don't think they really wanted to go. I think they were scared to say no. Anyway. This is them...

That's me, Tim, Ben, Carmen, Andrew and Dave. And we love them.

So that was Indie Night which has become my favourite night out on a Thursday (it's the new Friday.) We went the following week too with people we'd met there the first week (Ricky and Tracey) and Jason who is the events organiser at Maze. Here we are drinking champs, sweetie...

So apart from that, the rest of the time in Sydney has been spent doing these things:

a) Seeing Adam Williams who I worked with at Sugar. He's living here now. You know it, darl.

b) Hanging out at free BBQ's on the beach on a Saturday avo...

c) Recovering from another bout of tonsillitis. I got it bad. Had to see a doctor and then Duncan got it worse. I actually thought he was going to die. I've never known anyone so sick.

d) Looking for an apartment. The plan was to get one whilst here. They're quite easy to get for a really short time but it's sooooo hit and miss. For instance, our friends Ricky and Tracey have landed a plush new apartment for 6 weeks. Cheap as chips. Dishwasher, swimming pool, spa, sauna, gym. You dig? But a lot of them are one room, crammed full of people with a seedy, weird landlord. We've got until Dec 1st to find somewhere but it doesn't look hopeful. Failing that we'll stay at the cockroach-infested MAZE. If we do, imagine me in this squeaky bed until January 3rd...

e) Working. Not a Dolly Parton 9 to 5 but just a bit of freelance. Obviously at Smash Hits (did I mention that?) but I've also had a few assingments with That's Life! magazine. Think Bella. Think Chat. Oh the glamour! Anyway, they're paying me over $100 an hour so I shouldn't scoff.

f) Checking out the sites. Snapped this whilst taking the ferry across to Manly one night. The sites are everywhere. You don't have to go to any effort to see them here like you do in London, which is always a bonus if you're lazy like me.

g) Eating $5 steak. Wondered where the steak would come in didn't you? Yeah, so basically there's this Irish bar a stone's throw from the hostel called Scruffy Murphy's. It's 24 hour and the place everyone heads for in the early hours when the other clubs have chucked them out. Not that that's ever happened to me, you understand. Anyway, I discovered that they do an evening meal for $5. So we ate steak last night. And it was delish.

h) And finally seeing old friends (Kelly and Tom that we met in Brazil live here and Suzi, Minnie, Bex and Ben from South America also) and making new ones. Loads of them...

So that's my love affair with Sydney in a nutshell. I love it here. I do wish we had our own place as the grimey, hot hostel is getting to me a bit (there's no air con - the place is like an oven). But the city never sleeps and there's always a new person to make friends with. And more importantly there's cheap steak. Of course I love it.

Living the dream, just like Chantelle Houghton

2006-11-28T05:32:00.000Z

And on that note, now that Chantelle and Preston are married is she Chantelle Preston? Or still Chantelle Houghton? I'd find it confusing if I were her, being Chantelle Preston and thinking of my husband as Preston Preston, which I'm sure she would. Like if I were to marry Eddy (which is his surname, real name Ian - but no-one *ever* calls him that, BTW Eddy this is purely academic) I'd be Samantha Eddy but if people asked "what's your husband called?" I'd be like "Eddy" and they'd be like "surely that's odd?"

Anyway. Living the dream. Yeah. So, my childhood dream (apart from wanting to be a trapeze artist when I was about 5) was to work at Smash Hits. I'd look at the staff in the magazine and think they were way cool. I wanted to be that cool. So anyway, as you all know, I got to work at Sugar which I ADORED and it *did* make me a lot cooler - but inside me Smash Hits was the big one. I went for an interview there just after I started at Sugar. I didn't get the job. Sniff. Then, I was scheduled in for another interview a little while back and I reckon I had it in the bag. My application was out-standing. My main man JB was the Deputy Editor and my darling Mango, the Feature's Ed. That job was mine. MINE. That's if the whole magazine hadn't crashed and burned that very week.

So yeah. My dream of working for Smash was over. Smash Hits was no more. I felt it, like the rest of the nation. But I like to think I felt it a little bit more because I was never really a part of it like I should have been...

...until now. That's right. Smash Hits is still going in Australia. And I've done two day's work there this week. GET IN! Sadly, I reckon the writing may be on the wall for this one too. The team is only three people and the mag has just gone bi-monthly (erk) but it didn't make it any less exciting. I LOVED IT. I was back where I belong - transcribing Jesse Mcartney interviews, meeting tragic girlbands, writing the music review pages and checking out the screening for the Dixie Chicks Rock Doc (no-one ever told me they were so cool. I'm trading punk for country.)

And the best bit is that I think they loved me. They've asked me back next week. So the moral of the story kids, is to never give up on your dreams. If you want something that bad it'll happen. Bleurgh.

(Uncle) Allen Dodd

2006-11-19T06:27:00.000Z

It was always going to be a little odd meeting up with my original Godfather (Uncle) Allen Dodd, especially as I haven't seen or heard from him since I was about seven. But when I contacted him and said that Dunners and I were in Sydney, he seemed really keen - and super lovely. So on Sunday, we headed over to his flat in Darling Harbour and got whisked out for a fancy lunch with him and his wife Wendy. And you know what? It was a whole lot of lovely.

This man, although I don't really know him at all really, made a BIG impression on me when I was really little. I always remember him as being a really big character, really dashing and the best bit - he'd send me postcards from all around the world. He'd be away on business a lot and he'd ALWAYS remember to send me a card from wherever he went. It meant so much to me that I vowed when I left in May that I'd send my brother's kids that I adore a postcard from every country I visited, hoping that one day it would mean as much to them.

So yeah. He took us to his favourite restaurant right on the harbour where I had snails (first time in 28 years) and kangaroo (have it all the time, don't I?) And yeah, it was great. I also found out that he's this hot shot artist. I never knew. The paintings in his apartment blew me away. No wonder I always liked him. After all, I'm artistic - I must have sensed it.

That's when good neighbours become good friends

2006-11-15T06:12:00.000Z

It's true. I don't think I've ever met a nicer bunch of people than the Australians. It's almost embarrassing.

Let me tell you about Brodi. So when we were in Queenstown, New Zealand, we met an Australian surfer dude called Brodi. He was in the TV room of the hostel and I think I must have said about 2 words to him as I was way too involved with watching LiLo in Just My Luck (shocking BTW. Shocking. Mcfly, my friends, I was embarrassed for you.) Duncan and Eve went out with Brodi and the Scots for a few beers that evening leaving Anna and I watching more movies and apart from another 2 or so words in the morning, that was the extent of my friendship with Brodi. It wasn't the extent of Eve's friendship with Brodi, but that's another story...

So whilst necking a few beers that night, Brodi had mentioned to Duncan that if we happened to be passing his hometown of Newcastle in Australia, we should look him up. So we did. After we left the hot surfers in Surfer's Paradise (I REALLY didn't want to go) we checked out Byron Bay (raining = rubbish) and Coff's Harbour (boring = rubbish) and the next place on the map before Sydney was Newcastle. So we just turned up at 9pm on Saturday and called Brodi. What followed was 2 days of non-stop hospitality.

For starters, Brodi lives with his parents. Of course he does. He's 19. This had never crossed our minds. But they welcomed us with open arms giving us beers and sausages as we stepped through the door followed by beds, hot showers and towels (it's the simple things when you're living out of a bag, believe me.) We then hit the town with Brodi and caused quite a stir. Seems that the people of Newcastle LOVE the English accent and by the end of the night we were surrounded by about 15 people all wanting to talk to us. My ego loved it.

In the morning we were woken up by Brodi's AMAZING mum, Joanne. She'd cooked us a heap of breakfast. Brodi took us around the town, taught Duncan how to bodyboard, took us out with his friend Dana in the evening and then left us at his house the next day as he was off to watch U2 in Sydney. He told us to stay at his house as long as we liked. And he meant it.

So we stayed for a while with Joanne who insisted that I use her phone to do an hour long interview for That's Life magazine. Then we left. As quickly as we'd arrived. A bit overwhelmed at how amazing everyone we seem to meet here is.

One of my all-time favourite Australian people (apart from Jason Donovan) is my Auntie Gwen. She'd always feed me Lamingtons she'd baked in the school holidays (so of course she was a hit with me), let me stay at her house when my parents were away and was just generally warm and lovely. So really this should be no surprise to me. But it has knocked us sideways a bit. Not really sure what we've done to deserve it, but it's all good with me. I love it here. Lovely people, stunning men and sun. Why oh why would you want to live anywhere else?

Samantha's Paradise

2006-11-07T01:48:00.000Z

So after a pretty hectic return day to Brisbane (locating a Lonely Planet, buying a dictaphone and ear-bug - I'VE GOT MAGAZINE WORK ALREADY! - and picking up our Wicked camper van - the pink seat covers rule, but Buddy Holly? Really?) we set off at 6.30pm for Surfer's Paradise.

Got to Cheers hostel where they let us park the van outside and pay to use the facilities, which was all good. Then a rowdy bunch invited us down to the local club. I totally wasn't in the mood. Tired. Moody. Felt ugly. The usual. But as it was free entry and free drinks, we decided to at least check it out. And it turned out to be the best decision we could have made.

There we met Joel. A beautiful surfer (girls, seriously, when I say beautiful I mean beautiful - the sight of him with his shirt off at the pool the next day made me want to cry) who had a heart of gold. He started chatting to me outside and wanted to meet 'my crew'. Whatever it was about me and my crew (Duncan) he seemed to like, as he then took us to another few places and before the night had ended had insisted that Dunc and I stayed at his pad on the beach, instead of kipping in the van.

Joel reckoned we were "proper filth" and "totally sick" - both surf slang for "wicked" or "terribly nice" - and said that it was really refreshing to meet such nice, real people. Bless. Whatever, it suited us just fine. We got to hang at his apartment for 2 days with his wicked housemates (Wayne, Ben and Vicky), drinking beers, feeding wild parrots and generally just feeling spoilt. Gnarly.

ROGER BISHOP's mum

2006-11-06T02:14:00.000Z

Is amazing.

After our wet, sandy, stormy camping expedition she picked us up from the bus station in her home town Noosa, gave us the tour, made us lunch, dropped us at the beach, let us use her pool, gave us hot showers and a comfy bed and then took us back to the bus station in the morning.

So it's fact. The Bishops are the bomb.

Dingo-ing crazy

2006-11-03T00:51:00.000Z

So the story goes that in 1982 a dingo ran off with and killed Lindy Chamberlain's baby at Ayer's Rock. In my head I'd heard that the dingoes had actually nicked the baby and raised it as their own (I totally prefer this version, whether I made it up or not I don't know but it's the story I'm sticking to.) Anyways, after finding the baby's clothes neatly folded (dingoes aren't well known for their folding abilities here) Lindy was charged with the murder of her child. Yadda, yadda, yadda. Whether or not she did it, or the dogs did it, or whether in fact the dogs *did* actually raise the child as I choose to believe the fact is that dingoes are pretty dangerous and man, did we hear about it on our trip to Fraser Island.

We'd decided to nip up the coast from ROGER BISHOP's house and spend a few days camping on Fraser. It seemed a pretty good deal. You pay like 155 bucks and that gets you a night in a hostel at Hervey Bay before the island, 2 nights camping on Fraser with a four wheel drive and a group of people you don't know, and then a night back at the hostel to recover. It felt kind of like we were going to be on Shipwrecked and as I'm too old to apply for that now (TOO OLD!) it seemed all good. Just as long as you stayed well away from the dingoes. Da, da, daaaaah...

Bussed up to Hervey Bay and had to get up pretty early for our (mainly dingo) briefing. It took a couple of hours. How to avoid the dingoes (try and camp in the fenced areas), what to do if you saw a dingo (cross your arms in front of your chest - what the? - and remain calm) and what to do if a dingo attacked (forget being calm and fight back aggressively. Helpful.) Then we were put in to our group, given a massive van and a load of proper camping equipment (no Eurocamp tents with kitchens and bedrooms here) and let loose.

The island is just mental. It's all sand and to get anywhere takes ages and is pretty hairy. The roads aren't roads and loads of people get stuck in the deep sand. Loads of people also lose their lives. So Duncs and I were glad to be put in to a fun, but pretty sensible group of people. There was Tom - a 21 year old boy from Essex, Gillian and Gareth - a couple from Scotland, Inga and Thomas - a hilarious pair from Germany and Christine, also a German. All good. Of course, I was the oldest.

First stop was Lake Mackenzie a beautiful - BEAUTIFUL - clear lake with bleach white sand. It was something else. So yeah, the drill on Fraser is just to drive to a lake, strip off, dip, sunbathe and then get on to the next. Which is what, after the first stop at Lake Mackenzie, we did solidly for 3 days.

The camping was pretty mental, and to be honest I'm not sure I'm built for roughing it so much. We did well with putting the tents up and stuff (the first night we chose a dingo-safe fenced area, the second we just camped on the beach) but the thought of spiders and hungry, baby-raising dogs kind of ruins any chance of a good night's kip. And that's before the massive storm hit whilst we were sleeping on the sand, soaking us and driving crabs in to the tent. Caroline Corcoran, you would have HATED it.

But apart from that, and the fact that there's nowhere to go to the toilet let alone plug GHD's in, it was awesome. Lakes, natural Champagne spa pools (love champs, don't I?) and miles and miles of unspoilt beaches. And one dingo. One. Worth the worry then.

And I want, and I need, and I love - ANIMAL(s)

2006-10-31T05:04:00.000Z

Today was the day. After months, even years, of harping on about it I *finally* got to go to Australia Zoo. Home of the Crocodile Hunter. And guess what? Loved it, didn't I?

So yeah, when Duncan and I were planning our trip, he had a massive check list of places he wanted to go to and things he needed to do. Places that had stirred his spirit. Places he'd learned about when he was a kid. Places he'd studied. Places that were going to complete him. Me? All I really wanted to do apart from see the Big JC in Rio (done it) was meet Steve Irwin and hold a koala. And, in the words of Meatloaf, two out of three ain't bad.

Roger Bishop had chucked us on the insurance for his massive BMW so that Duncs and I could rock up looking the bomb. Which we did. And then it began. Hours and hours of animal interaction. Guys, I know how to have a good time.

Steve Irwin (God bless his soul) opened the croc show on a massive screen. From beyond the grave. I cried (right, it was emotional, okay?) but the tears soon dried as the whole stadium had to do a 'crikey-off', one side against the other. We won. For sheez.

Then we checked out Tasmanian Devils (old lady in ear shot: "they don't move as fast as the cartoon character do they?"), wombats (another old lady in ear shot: "the Wombles were wombats"), snakes, lizards, koalas, fed elephants, fed kangeroos and watched tigers splashing about in a huge tank. It was ace. Ace. Mo.

I'm a bit over koalas now. They're cute and everything and I was *totally* stoked to get my mitts on one properly, but as with men I'm fickle (right Ady?) and my new favourite is the kangeroo. Duncan and I spent ages feeding them in the park and apart from the one that hissed at me and went to claw my face off (never try and kiss a wild animal, Sam) they're wicked. Daddy, can I have one?

So after an amazing day (the only thing that could have made it any better was if Duncan had actually got to hold Bindi Irwin) we finished the night off at Roger Bishop's family Halloween party. Drinking wine, eating fine food and carving pumpkins. Did I mention he's a star?

ROGER BISHOP!

2006-10-29T05:50:00.000Z

Let me give you some background. Roger Bishop is a star. STAR. So much of a star that you can't just call him by his first name, you have to add the surname on too. In more of an excited-shout type way. I worked with him at Hachette and never have I met a man who would go so far (and beyond) to make everyone happy. He's quite incredible. And everyone - EVERYONE - loves him.

So when he said we should pop in on him in Brisbane, we were totally up for it. No sooner had we arrived - he gave up his bed for us, put us on his car insurance, took us out for lunches and meals and even sorted us out with a bed at his mum's place up the coast. And that's before the family shin dig. Just amazing.

Roger Bishop - we're having the best time with you. And as soon as you come back over to London give us a call. Our place has got your name written all over it.

Darling it's better, down where it's wetter, take it from me...

2006-10-23T00:57:00.000Z

Just look at the world around you, Right here on the ocean floor, Such wonderful things surround you, What more is you lookin' for?

Yesterday we went snorkelling over the Great Barrier Reef. And, yep - you've guessed it - it was UN.REAL.

Set off was pretty early and we were on the boat by 8.15am, popping shed loads of sea sickness tablets. They'd warned us that the ride would more than likely make us yackedy yack. Joy. I can't remember the last time I spewed on a boat but I wasn't relishing the thought in the slightest. As it was, my stomach was flipped no sooner had we got on board...at the sight of the young, hunky deck boy Jack. Grrrr. Believe me, they don't make them like that in the UK. So anyways, Dunc and I held on to our breakfasts and sat out at the back loving the wet, bumpy ride and (funnily enough) loving the view - Jack. (Swoon.)

An hour later we'd reached the reef, were wet-suited and flipper-booted and ready to rock. And man alive, was it amazing? Answer = it certainly was. We had two hours out over the first reef, but it felt like 5 minutes. I could have stayed there all day. It was just like being in Finding Nemo. Or The Little Mermaid. Or Sponge Bob Square Pants. Just incredible.

Now, I've done quite a lot of snorkelling in some pretty impressive places (the least impressive but perhaps the funnest being Porthscatho in Wales where cousin Kate and I would freeze ourselves yearly to oggle at murky, brown rock pools. I think we were more interested in the hot rice pudding and flake which always followed...) like Brazil and stuff. Saw loads of tropical fish there. Even a star fish. Ooooohhhh. Aaaaahhh. Yeah, all pretty cool. But this. This was just something else. It doesn't even slightly compare. Not slightly.

Whilst Anthony went diving, Duncan and I flippered along with bright green and purple parrot fish the size of Holly Dog, over masses of bright blue and yellow coral, swam down to see huge sea clams yawning, dodged a stingray, saw fish I couldn't have invented even if I'd tried and held a massive sea slug thing (think the Wichety Grub that Jordan gobbled up on I'm a Celeb, but the size of a cat) that had been plucked from the seabed by Jack (swoon.) Jack also grabbed hold of a shark - with his bare hands - so that we could have a look. Chicks dig dare devils. (Swoon, swoon.)

So after a buffet lunch and lecture about coral, fish and marine biology we jetted off to another reef and had 2 more hours there before heading back to land. Neither Duncan or I wanted it to be over - not ever - and I think we've decided that although it's expensive, we're going back out there for more of the same next week. It's topped everything I've done so far. Totally loved it, didn't I?

Up on the shore they work all day, Out in the sun they slave away, While we devotin', Full time to floatin', Under the sea, We got no troubles, Life is the bubbles, Under the sea...

Animal Lover

2006-10-22T09:51:00.000Z

My aim, whilst in Australia, is to hold or touch as many exotic animals as I can. And as you can see, I've been here less than a week and I'm doing pretty well. I'm practically Bindi Irwin (is it just me or does she look like something out of the Dark Crystal?)

Holding a koala

Holding a Tasmanian Devil

Holding a little croc

Stroking a (real) koala (seriously, look how happy I am about it)

Never smile at a crocodile

2006-10-21T09:44:00.000Z

I've had the BEST day. We spent the entire day at Hartley's Crocodile Adventure Park in the sun (which was good for my condition.) I got to see crocodiles feeding, crocodiles attacking, crocodiles hanging out and crocodile bags and belts (in the gift shop - I found this a bit weird.) I even held a baby crocodile and had a crocodile burger for lunch (I know. I like them. But I like eating more.) Then we went to a snake and lizard show, took a crocodile boat tour and..., wait for it..., STROKED KOALAS! Crikey.

No trial, just Tribulation

2006-10-19T10:08:00.000Z

I love Australia. Did I mention that? But I'm also super paranoid about the spiders. I might have also mentioned that.

So, after a day of sight seeing in Cairns we decided to head up to Cape Tribulation. Now, as nice as it sounds (it's the most North you can go without special wheels, and as delightful as she is - Deluxe Samantha isn't special enough - ha) this is the place where EVERYONE claims to have seen one of the massive Huntsman spiders. The ones that you can hear walking up the paths. The ones that if you stare at them lunge at your face. The ones that are as big as large cats. The ones that jump off shop roofs into your hair. Those ones. So, clearly I wasn't really looking forward to it.

Didn't see one though, did I? After all that panic, all that toilet checking, all those hours lying awake in my bunk - nada. Had nothing but a great time. Checked out all the beaches on the way up. Went on loads of walks through the rainforest. Looked at bats. All without the arachnids.

Burn baby, burn

2006-10-18T09:38:00.000Z

Love the sun, don't I?

We're off to see the Wizard...

2006-10-17T23:17:00.000Z

I've got S.A.D. That medical condition where your mood is controlled by the weather. It *totally* makes sense. I wasn't very happy in New Zealand even though it was stunning and super special. But as soon as I get off the plane in Cairns I'm all over it. LOVING Australia. Yet it's nothing special. Dave says that Australia is like Gwyneth Paltrow - pretty but bland. It's true. But..., it's sunny. And sickly hot. And tropical. And I love it. Of course I do. I'm S.A.D Sam.

It was a tearful fairwell. Saying goodbye to Welsh Eve ("Erm..., what's for tea?!") but before we knew it our two flights were done and we were being greeted by Anthony at Cairns airport. He's flown over to see us for two weeks. Of course he has. Everyone jets to the other side of the world to see Sam and Duncs.

Anthony, being the very organised chap that he is, not only had a plastic folder full of print outs and leaflets of stuff that we're going to get up to over the next two weeks but had already hired us some wheels. A camper van! And not just any camper van. It's called Deluxe Samantha. She's pretty special, although thinking about it now I'm not sure we're going to get on. If she's Deluxe, then what am I?

So yeah. Apart from constantly having that TERRIBLE Manics song going round in my head ("In Australia...") and having to come to terms with my new medical condition it's all good. All good.

"Class of Lady Lazer Babski 2006 - we did it!"

2006-10-15T09:31:00.000Z

Finally. We shifted the car. And kinda shafted some Irish dude. Sorry mate.

After 3 soul destroying days sat with the Lazer at an empty car market a lovely Irish guy called Kieran came in and just bought it. We had to slash the price considerably and despite the crack in the windscreen, the oil leak, the dodgement wheels, the about-to-die gear box etc..., he got a right royal bargain. Barge.

It was a *total* answer to prayer. With one day to go we were convinced we'd have to dump it. But we sold it. Sing hallelujah. Sing it, sing hallelujah.

It ain't over till it's over...

2006-10-14T06:01:00.000Z

...and it's very nearly over.

Duncan and I have spent the entire day sat next to LLcoolB at the Backpackers car market, Christchurch. We've already had to drop the price by $1000 and it looks like there'll be more dropping before our time in New Zealand's done. "You'll sell it for more than you bought it for," they told us in Auckland. "They'll be selling like hot cakes," they told us in Auckland. Whatevs. The truth is that no one here seems to be buying cars. And if we do manage to sell it (it's not looking good) we'll get a lot less than we paid for it, and that's before all the repairs are taken into consideration. Beautifuls, beautifuls, beautifuls.

Starry eyed surprise

2006-10-12T05:46:00.000Z

Ever since she got here Anna's been (some would say bleating) on about going to Lake Tekapo and checking out the stars. I'm not really in to stars. They're pretty and everything - and the ones I saw on the Bolivian salt flats will stay with me forever (seriously - the sky was more white than black, saw the milky way and everything) - but I'm no Patrick Stewart (Duncan, is he the right one?) But they all seemed pretty up for a night of star gazing, so I was in (practically a hippy these days aren't I?)

The drive to the lake was, again, pretty special. Check me out - loving New Zealand all of a sudden. Amazing lakes, snow capped mountains - the usual. And then we were there. In the middle of nothing. Literaly, a hostel next to the lake and nothing else. Took a drive up to the astronomy observation point which was on a hill overlooking a whole lot of nothing. The sky was massive, with really weird clouds hanging over a whole load of nothing. There was just nothing. Nothing. It was pretty awesome.

The wind, however, was stronger than anything I've felt before. It actually bowled me over. It was so strong that the star gazing was called off (still don't really get this - surely the wind can't blow the stars out of the sky!?) so, gutted, we had to settle for an evening inside playing Risk. This in itself was an education. I learnt that India is in fact BELOW China. So thankfully the evening wasn't a complete waste.

Who loves you?

2006-10-11T05:37:00.000Z

Ferg does.

So, forget the heart-racing outdoor stuff and the stunning scenery - the best thing about Queenstown is Fergburger. Fact. We were told about it by people we met in South America. Loads of people. They said if you're going to Queenstown, you *have* to have a burger at Fergbuger. So we did. And, hand on heart, I have never tasted anything like it. I think it's fair to say that it's the best thing I've ever eaten. And (quite clearly) I've eaten a lot of things. Can't quite explain what's so good about it - it would be boring to explain a burger anyways - but I had the Little Lamby (lamb burger, mint sauce - blah, blah, blah) and it was unreal. So unreal that we went back the next day. Badah-ba-ba-baah, I'm lovin' it. Aren't I.

Crazy Beautiful

2006-10-10T02:14:00.000Z

So the guys went off for yet another adrenelin rush. As if sky diving and canyon swinging wasn’t enough. Right, where the hell was I when God was handing out the passion for thrill seeking? On the internet or fake tanning no doubt. So yeah anyway, I went solo for the morning and took a drive. Solo dancing, on the loose - on my own. I just drove. And drove. And ended up in possibly the most beautiful spot I’ve seen in New Zealand so far. Not sure whether it was so beautiful because it was *so beautiful* or whether it was so beautiful because I was on my own (sorry guys - you’re great company but sometimes a girl just needs to be on her own - well, with Jason Mraz - with time to reflect.)

So yeah, there I was, on my own at Coronet Point (from what I can make out it‘s a redundant ski spot). Drove through the snowy hills, got out, crunched about on the snow. Drove through the snowy hills, got out, crunched about on the snow. Drove through more snowy hills, got out, crunched about on the snow. It was crazy beautiful.

It’s exactly what I needed. Exactly. This place *is* beautiful. I wish it hadn’t taken me so long to really realise.

Another day, another dollar

2006-10-09T04:17:00.000Z

That’s right people. Another day spent waiting for the garage to call. LLcoolB is sick. Again. This time it’s the break pads that need changing. Oh, and the windscreen wipers that need fixing after deciding to stop working this morning. Another 200 or so bucks. So that’s the back wheels, the new tyre, the wipers and the break pads. And that’s not even mentioning the large crack that suddenly appeared overnight in the windscreen. I can’t even bring myself to think about it. Not even sure whether we’ll even be able to sell it now with that bad boy in the glass…

…but as I look out of the window directly behind me all I can see are the mountains of Queenstown. Massive, enormidad mountains. Covered in snow. So yeah, if I lose a few hundred pounds for the privelage of being surrounded by such beauty for 6 weeks so be it. I’ve been a bit SA blind up until now, but it has been totally worth it. Like, totally.

Dunedin

2006-10-06T05:32:00.000Z

We haven't been out in ages. Ages. So we got ourselves to Dunedin - top student town - and did it properly. Drinks at the hostel, on to the The Cook bar (I must have been the oldest person there - where's my life going?) and then on to KC's where Eve and I danced until 7am (Mechanic Duncs left us in the very capable hands of the Auckland rugby team.) Sweet as.

Wired for (Milford) Sound?

2006-10-05T04:16:00.000Z

It’s meant to be one of the most beautiful places in New Zealand, if not on earth. It *is* beautiful. But it wasn’t all that. What I mean is - it was all that, it just wasn’t ALL that. You get me, right?

We arrived in Milford Sound at about 4pm after one of the most scenic drives we’ve had so far. Yeah, that was pretty spesh. Driving through beautiful mountains, snow, avalanche areas, streams and sun-streaked woods. Gorgeous. Checked in to the Milford Lodge which is like the only place to stay near the Sound and has nothing going on. Not even a television. No Neighbours. Once again. I have no idea what’s going on with Carl and Susan these days. Killer.

Anna and I got up pretty early the following morning as we’d booked ourselves on to one of the scenic cruises. Seeing as the drive to the Sound had promised us something pretty special we even splashed out on a more expensive cruise which gave us half an hour at the underwater observatory where you get to walk down under the sea and see stuff that only divers normally would. It was going to be stunning. It was going to be amazing. It was, infact, a heap of rubbish. The cruise lasted for about an hour and the best scenery was the stuff you get to see from the shore. The rest was Dulwich. Not even massive mountains. Just normal ones. With trees on. Plus the observatory was SUCH a let down. I was like, “erm, the stuff I can see is man made. I’m right, right?” Anna looked gutted. The guide looked totally miffed. But it was true. The fish and stuff were real, but there were window box type sea bed scenery which was meant to look all real, but it so wasn’t.

Top Milford Sound tip - save your money. Dodge the sand flies and go for a walk along the shore. It’s as good as it’s gonna get.

Freefaller

2006-10-02T06:47:00.000Z

I wish that I could fly, Into the sky, So very high, Just like a dragonfly, I'd fly above the trees, Over the seas in all degrees, To anywhere I please, Oh I want to get away, I want to fly away, Yeah yeah yeah, Oh I want to get away, I want to fly away, Yeah yeah yeah...

(I don't. Otherwise I would have done it too.)

Ice, Ice baby

2006-09-29T05:39:00.000Z

Alright stop, colaborate and listen.

Fox Glacier. A to the M to the A to the ZING. Evo Gavin and Anna heli hiked over the thing which, according to them both, was incredible and Dunners did a day trek. I did neither. Yeah, I know, thinking about it I probably should have. But it was well pricey and I'm saving those pennies for a koala cuddle in OZ. Outstanding natural beauty vs cuddle with grouchy, slightly vicious tree critter. I know what I'd prefer. Anyway, what I saw of the ice was beautiful and although my pictures aren't a patch on theirs (seriously, Google it), it's all good.

My week

2006-09-28T05:13:00.000Z

So basically, once again, we've had another packed week. And basically, once again, I can't really remember what we've been up to. But I'll try. And I'll keep it brief.

Whizzed through our last few days on the north island. Met up with Phil (Duncan's old workmate) and Rhona (brother Jon's uni friend) for drinks in Wellington which was acemo. Rhona had sent me a message suggesting that we meet for a drink in a certain bar at 8pm. I hadn't got the message. However, out of all of the bars in Wellington we just happened to be there anyway, catching up with Phil. At that time. She recongnised me instantly. I still look the same as I did when I was twelve. It's true.

So yeah, on to the south island where we met Anna at Picton. It was so, so good to see her. So good. But I suddenly got really emotional and homesick for my friends. The crew. The quizzers. How I miss you all. So much... I was over it pretty quickly though (don't miss you that much, do I?) and we headed off for a long, winding drive to Nelson. Yeah, and then it all gets blurry. Days rolled into week. You know how it is, when you don't have to get up for work. Ever. And all you have to concern yourself with is stunning, stunning scenery (it's all about the south island.) It's hard to remember what we saw. And when we saw it. You know how it is, right?

Seeing Red

2006-09-27T05:06:00.000Z

That's right. Anna Bandana's flown half the way around the world. Just to see us. Because she missed us so much. It's official - we have the best friends in the world.

Have I got news for you?

2006-09-25T01:12:00.000Z

It's not that I haven't been on the internet this week. I have. I've just been far too busy. Conversing. With a certain art teacher. So, inbetween doing that, here's what we've been up to...

Friday: Drove back to Auckland from Keri Keri so that Eve could get her hair done. As we hit town Lady Lazer Babski started to smell. Bad. Like it was dying. Figuring it was the brake pads that needed changing (those A-Level motor vehicle studies weren't a waste of time after all) we resigned ourselves to the fact that we'd probably have to cough up a fortune in the morning. Checked in to X Base hostel and got twisted (factor 8) at Indie night. Duncan finished the night off with his nose in a book about Disneyland. Eve finished the night off with her nose in the hot tub. I finished the night off with my nose in the DJ box. Rock. And. Roll.

Saturday: So, did I mention the Lazer's a heap of junk? No? Really? Took it in to the garage and whilst the burning smell is just a bad oil leak that doesn't need worrying about (erm, alrighty then) the ACTUAL problem is the back wheels. They were about to blow off. "You're driving around in a death trap," says the nice man who then explains that the simple choices are get it fixed, or die. For a tidy sum of three hundred dollars. Which also means no car until Monday. So we agree to get it fixed and are left stuck in Auckland. Which we hate. We eat Burger King and go to bed.

Sunday: Heard the terrible news about Pretty Alice's sister and so the day was pretty much a write off. There really are no words, Alice. I am so, so sorry. We haven't stopped thinking about you this week. Felt really rubbishy. Plus we were stuck in snoresville Auckland with no wheels. Just wanted to be at home, with my friends. But I wasn't. Boo. Watched Duncan spend a shed load of money (digital camera numero 3) and then hauled ourselves to the cinema to see Snakes on a Plane. Eve spent the entire movie convulsing next to me and admitted when we left that she has a snake phobia. It wasn't what she expected. Snakes on a Plane. Is it just me?

Monday: The Babski's better! Praise be! Picked up the car and got the hell out of Auckland. Hoo. Rah. Drove to the coast of Coramandel, or something, where we stayed in a YHA right on the seafront. With Miaowsens. Finished the night off with a trip to New World ("every moment red letter.") Our favourite NZ past-time. Fact.

Tuesday: Dunner's 27th birthday. On previous birthdays I've spoiled him. Johnny Rotten. It's true. A surprise treasure-hunt style trip to the Globe theatre, every games console imaginable, games, consoles, games, consoles - that kind of thing. So this year, when he's away from his family and friends and favourite places I got him...nothing. Not even a card. As well as being Journalist of the Year (still holding the title, people) I'm also Worst Friend of the Year. Sorry mate. So yeah, after I'd showered Duncan with a whole load of nothing we hit the hot water beach, a beach where you dig a hole and boiling water bubbles up which you then enjoy, spa stylee. Except we hadn't taken a spade. Or anything to dig with. So we nicked someone else's and pretended we'd done the hard work ourselves. Nice.

Headed off to Rotorua where whilst belting it along the road guess who gets a flat? So, did I mention the Lazer's a heap of junk? No? Really? Being a girl I just stood on the side of the road and whimpered (clearly those A-Level motor vehicle studies were a waste of time after all), Eve managed to point in a kind of I've-seen-someone-do-this-before kind of way and Duncan's gay. So we were pretty screwed. But Birthday Duncan managed to save the day and changed his first tyre. He's reported to have said "I now feel like a man."

Checked in to a hostel in Rotorua (which smells of egg), had a dip in the swimming pool (that's right), and then Duncan cooked us dinner (on his birthday. I truly deserve my award.) Finished Duncan's birthday night off in the Lava Bar, which was like being back at uni. Got hit on by some red-neck Kiwi. Duncan told him I was his sister to deter him. It didn't work. So we ended up going to bed early. Happy birthday dear Duncan, happy birthday to you...

Wednesday: Was a right sunny day, weren't it? Totally lusho. Duncan and I wandered in to town where we met a tiny dog called Cookie and I bought him a new spike piercing in a desperate attempt to redeem myself. That and some sweets. I think it worked. Then came the zorbing. You roll down hill in one of those hamster balls. Full of water. I didn't do it, obviously, but Eve and Duncan did. And they loved it. So that was all good. Plus we also ran in to fit Tom who we'd spent time with in Brazil. Turns out he knows Eve too. It's a small, small world.

That night (you'll like this, dad) some guy at the hostel gave us a trout that he'd just caught. But not just any old trout. A trout that was the size of 2 new born babies. Total. It was unbelievable. So I washed it, stuffed it with a whole load of lemon and herbs and garlic and stuff and baked it. And it was A-mazing. I was very pleased with myself. I can cook. So I ticked this skill off on my list of 'things I have to master before I get home to make me marriage material.' The next skill I have to master is how to make grown-up table talk. So I'm going to read Eve's Noam Chomsky book. They'll be crawling over themselves to marry me.

Thursday: More sun and I'm starting to like New Zealand a little more. A long drive via the coast and we arrive in Gisborne where our friends from Cornwall, Ollie and Sarah, have a house. Hot Cai (also from Cornwall) bleats on about this place ALL the time (top surf spot. Gnarly. Sick. Filth. And all that) so we felt like we should visit. Plus it's near where Whale Rider was filmed. And I loved it. From the off. Sat in the sun on the decking, drank some cider, played cards and ate a pizza. With Miaowsens two and three. Probably the happiest I've been in New Zealand so far. Amazing. Watched Ghostbusters and hit the sack.

Friday: Dragged Eve and Duncan up and over the hill on a mission to find Ollie and Sarah's house (sorry guys.) Found it. Posed outside for pictures. Walked. Walked. And walked some more. Lots of forrest. Horses. Beaches. That kind of thing. Felt really ratty (sorry guys.) PMT seems to come round a whole lot quicker whilst travelling (sorry guys.) Not a lot else happened in Gisborne. Ate some lasagne and watched Silence of the Lambs with a Canadian called Will. And that was that. But the tan's back. In force. So it's all good.

Saturday: Okay, so there's this town called Napier that was pretty much destroyed by an earthquake (or a fire. Or something) and the whole place was completely re-built over the space of, like, a year. In the 50's. Or something. (Can you tell I paid attention when I was being told about it?) So anyway, yeah, the whole town is Art Deco style. It's mad. So we checked it out. Felt like we were in Back to the Future. Plus all the kids (who happen to be hot skaters) have totally retro cars, like chrome Cadelacs. Yeah, I liked it. Could have spent longer there especially as the sun was beating down and the boys were easy on the eye, but we had to press on - Lake Taupo bound.

To celebrate our darling friends Mango and Shilpa's wedding in the UK (seriously dudes, you can't possibly imagine how gutted I am that we had to miss your special day) we went out for an Indian meal and raised our poppadums. Which was pretty good. Splashed out on naan and everything. The night was ended in the noisiest dorm room ever. Like nothing I could ever describe in words. The room was above a night club and my bed was actually shaking from the base. You know if you sit on a speaker in a club, that kind of sick feeling that buzzes through you? It was like that. We couldn't even hear each other talk. Until 3am. Not amused.

Sunday: So Sunday had been all over the news. Apparently the sun was due to be super hot and dangerous because of the ozone. Or something. (Maybe I should forget the Chomsky and just pay a bit more attention to Newsround.) So I slip, slap, slopped. I slipped into something a little more revealing, I slapped on some tanning oil and I slopped myself out on the grass at every given opportunity. Unfortunately I'm loving the real tan look. I'm sure I'll be a leather-faced Lennox by the time I'm 30.

Had a great day. Did loads of stuff. Checked out Huka Falls, went to a honey farm to watch bees do their thing (that was to pacify me), got ecucated at a volcano activity centre (that was to pacify Duncan), ate prawns at Prawn Park and then walked around a steamy geezer place called Crators of the Moon. It was meant to be just like being on the moon. Hmmm, yeah, that's right - with all that foliage. Just like it. But it was pretty cool all the same. We then hit the road for a 5 hour drive through the hills and volcanoes to Wellington. Sunburnt. And happy.

Can't you see that we're lucky like that?

2006-09-17T05:31:00.000Z

Maybe I was a little harsh. Like I was saying. Here's my week. In pictures...

A whole new world (don't you dare close your eyes)

2006-09-15T06:20:00.000Z

Julie Andrews can keep her bright copper kettles and warm woollen mittens (sap) one of MY favourite things is driving along on a sunny day, windows down, power ballads up and Duncan next to me for entertainment. It's always been a fave. Those drives from Brighton to Bournemouth ruled, and now we're doing it all over again. All day. Every day. And I LOVE it. So yeah, on one hand I'm pretty happy - happier than I've been for ages. But then on the other hand it's all a bit depressing.

South America's ruined me. There I was dreading it, thinking I'd hate it and now I just want to be back there. The stuff I saw, the things we did, the way of life - it just doesn't compare to anything else and really unfortunately clean, safe, quiet, wet, expensive New Zealand is baring the brunt of my SA sickness. Right, it's beautiful here. Beautiful. But it's just like being in Cornwall. I feel like I'm at home, just unable to see my friends. It sucks.

Saying that, we've done some pretty cool stuff already. Drove up to Keri Keri (Chloe and Justin's home) and hung out there for 3 days. Met a proper Mauri man called Henry - with a completely tribal tattooed face - who was perhaps the kindest, loveliest man I've ever met. Kinder than Father Christmas. He read our auras. He said Duncan was good natured with a bad streak (who'd have thunk it?), Eve's was orange making her lovely to the core and me... apparently I was too sick to be able to read mine properly. He said it was a bit of a fuzzy mess. But he *could* see my heart of gold shining through. Oh yes. Glad that hasn't been damaged. He also added that wherever Duncan went a guardian angel trotted closely behind. Mine was nowhere to be seen. Probably on the internet or fake tanning somewhere.

What else have we done? More waterfalls (not as good as Iguazu), drove along the 90 mile beach dodging the dangerous quick sand patches which was pretty cool (not as cool as Copacabana), sandboarding on big sand dunes (nowhere near as big as Peru), a boat trip through a hole in a rock (hardly Lake Titikaka), a visit to the most nothern point of the island (try the centre of the world for impressive), saw dolphins do their thing (which I LOVED but they just seemed arrogant and showy compared to the whales) and yeah, that just about brings us up to speed. I'm loving the supermarkets the most though. New World, which just begs to be sung to every time we go there ("every moment red letter") and Countdown. Hmmmm.

Got some pretty cool pictures which I'll litter this blog entry with when I have more time. The internet is expensive here. It was free at hostels in South America...

LL Cool B (Lady Lazer Cool Babski)

2006-09-11T06:06:00.000Z

This is Lady Lazer Babski. OUR NEW (Ford Lazer) CAR! Yeah, I know. How cool?

So after buying the car from the back packers car fair in Auckland in about 20 minutes flat, we headed to the hostel to pick up new friend Welsh Eve. Then we hit the road, 2 hours North to Whangarei. Driving again rules. It's just like being in England. You drive on the same side, everything looks the same and the weather is just as terrible. It rained non-stop.

Rocked up at a strange hostel which is basically just a comfy, big house belonging to a middle aged couple (and their Golden Retriever Sage, I'm happy) who let you crash. The man looks just like Noel Edmonds and his wife is called Noelle, which span me right out. For a while there I didn't quite know who was who. But it's cosy and warm and like being in a home, with a BATH and a space for Lady Lazer Babski right outside the front door. Perfecto.

Today it POURED. Lady Lazer Babski, who runs like a dream, also leaks like a nightmare so it was rather like driving around in an aqua park. But we checked out the local clock museum (how jealous are you?), waterfalls and both of the town's supermarkets (control yourself, green eyes.) So yeah. Pretty eventful.

Is it you or is it me?

2006-09-11T06:04:00.000Z

Lately I've been lost it seems
I think the change is what I need
If I'm looking for a chance, or to dream...

(Seriously, this was like the first road we stumbled on in New Zealand. What are the chances?)

Totally sick, dude

2006-09-09T20:00:00.000Z

I've got tonsilitus. Again. And a bad chest infection. I look, sound and feel like a donkey.

So yeah, anyway, after a final few days of shopping in BA, a tearful goodbye to Tristan, a run in with the Milhouse manager Manu and one last night of drum and base, we packed up everything and hot footed it to the airport on Wednesday evening. All bound for New Zealand. When I say we packed up everything, I clearly didn't. I'm minus the black Havianas Sugar bought for me as a leaving present. Guys, I'm GUTTED. I've worn them every day since my leaving party. That's like over 4 months. Not that I'm whinging about it. Much.

Yeah, so got on the plane on Wednesday night, travelled over night - and arrived in Auckland, New Zealand on FRIDAY morning. Weird. Thursday completely didn't exist for us. How gutted would you be if Thursday had been your birthday? Note to self, people: never fly to New Zealand the day before your birthday. It's not worth it.

2 days in and I haven't really been feeling New Zealand if I'm honest. But then I have been sicker than sick. Had to drag myself to the doctors yesterday. She grimaced at the sight of my throat, said that the chest was well on it's way to bronchitus and then asked "have you come from a malaria region at all?" Gulp. Fingers crossed all the (expensive) medication she prescribed me does the trick, otherwise she wants to see me again in 3 days. I KNEW I'd get malaria. If you know one person who'd be bound to get it - you could have put money on it being me. Guys, you should have ACTUALLY put money on it. (Mum and Dad, I'm sure I haven't really got malaria, please don't worry...)

Apart from that New Zealand is super, super clean and eerily quiet. The traffic's quiet. The busy streets are quiet. The kids are quiet. And if they had manky street dogs, I'm sure they'd be quiet too.

Holyland

2006-09-04T16:17:00.000Z

Right. Imagine Disneyland - minus rollercoasters - but still with the shows, the set, the characters wandering around, the lights, the music piped through the park etc... But get rid of Mickey Mouse and friends and replace with Jesus and friends. Yeah? Yeah. We went to the only religious theme park in the world. And it was amazing.

Basically, you walk through the life of Jesus, go to various shows like Creation, the nativity and the Last Supper, eat food that they would have eaten, listen to music and watch dancing like they would have and all that kind of stuff. And the best bit? A MASSIVE Jesus that, twice an hour, rises up from the hill whilst Hallelujahs ring out all around the park. It was so tacky. But we loved it all the same. Amen.

The Falls

2006-09-03T23:27:00.000Z

So, they´re one of the ancient wonders of the world: The Iguazu Falls. We´d always planned to go, whether it was going to be from the Brazilian side or the Argentinian. Got our malarials and everything. However, clearly I was far too busy stuffing all-you-can-eat meat and following art teachers around in Brazil to even contemplate the trip. And for a moment there, after an impromptu decision to go 10 hours out of the way on our tight schedule to visit Mendoza, it didn´t look like it was going to happen in Argentina either. But we gritted our teeth, sat out (quite literally) the 40 hour bus ride and went for it. And man, I´m glad we did.

It had been suggested that maybe it wasn´t worth our while as the Falls are currently pretty dry, although I didn´t really notice. To me they were just incredible, and the perfect cure for the hangover I was suffering after a night out with a bunch of 18 year old boys (seriously, I´m starting to feel so old) the night previously. The roaring sound, the spray on your face and the way you can´t even see how far they go down from the mist was breath-taking. The only thing that slightly ruined it was the fact that we´d randomly got Geri Halliwell´s Look At Me stuck in our heads (ba bada bada). I blame the malarials.

We then took a little trek through the tropical woods surrounding the waterfalls (just because my legs haven´t had enough mosquito action.) There´s signs everywhere to watch out for racoons - they do and WILL bite. Allegedly. In the posters they´re made out to be right sneaky, grabbing your food if it´s on show etc.... Anyways, we didn´t see one. That was until Duncan and Tristan had gone off to do a steep bit of trekking and I decided to wait for them (hate trekking, don´t I?) With that 2 massive racoons started chasing me down the path. For some reason I was convinced they were going to try and steal my camera (they´re tree rats Sam, of course that´s what they were after) so I ran, screaming to the boys. By the time I reached them there were about 12 racoons in single file, just ambling off in another direction. I guess they weren´t chasing me at all. Plus I missed the perfect, up-close photo op. But I´ve avoided being mugged in South America for 4 months now, I wasn´t ready to chance it.

Thank you for being a friend

2006-09-03T23:12:00.000Z

This is Friend. We first met him after an internet session at Iguazu. He approached me on the street with a slice missing from his side, a gammy eye and doing a weird gurning of the chops (I think he was just smiling) and followed us all the way back to our hostel. The next night, after Duncan had spat a chunk of steak in to his pocket at a fancy-pants restaurant (where are your manners babe?) who was waiting for us at our hostel door? Friend! Duncan gave him the spat out piece of meat and I have never seen anything like it. Friend literally span in a circle with glee. Round and round. Then he slid down on his front paws and growled a thank you. I swear it. Anyways, after our 2 days at Iguazu we were leaving with our bags and who randomly came to see us off at the bus station? You´ve guessed it. Friend! He was pretty spesh and out of all the street dogs we´ve met - even the clothed ones in Bolivia and the shoe-wearing ones in Brazil - he was naked and the best.

Lately...

2006-09-03T22:50:00.000Z

...we´ve been spending a LOT of time on coaches. So yeah, it was 20 odd hours to see the whales (which as you can gather was SKILL), then we did 24 hours to Cordoba (where we visited more art galleries than I did for my art GCSE, A-Level, Foundation and degree combined), followed by 10 hours to Mendoza (for more art galleries) and topped off by 40 - yes people, that´s right FOUR ZERO - to Iguazu Falls (which was totally worth it, see above.) That´s a total of (drum roll) = a whole lot of hours. It´s been great. Tiring. But great. Although I feel like I´ve been chaperoning a fortnight-long date.

Here´s a brief run-down in pictures:

Have you heard the tale, of Sammy and the whale...?

2006-08-26T00:34:00.000Z

We went whale watching. And it RULED.

Decided to ditch BA after far too little sleep. Felt it was time to do something constructive and see what daylight in Argentina looks like. So, we got a plush 20 hour bus (like seriously plush guys - cama seats, pillows, blankets, meals, movies, champs - I´ll never take the Megabus again) south to Puerto Madryn to see the whales.

Rocked up and wandered down to the beach where you can actually see them from the shore. We were excited. We ooohed and ahhhed and took loads of (what we thought at the time were amazing) pictures of the black slithers quite far out that were whales. These pictures soon got deleted.

So yeah, the actual boat trip (the following day) to hang with the whales was beyond incredible. About five of us, in a tiny boat on the sea rammed with them. Amazing. They come right up to the boat, so you can touch them, and just stick their (ugly, lumpy) heads out of the water to have a look. Then they swim right underneath the boat and pop up the other side, just looking and blowing water through their spouts. They´re massive. About the length of the number 73 bendy bus in London. And the width of I don´t know what. Just incredible.

Plus one of them, who liked us the most, did that whole jumping out of the water thing that you only ever see in National Geographic. All 40 tons of it. That´s heavier than me. It was pretty special. The splash, the noise, the way they can lift themselves out of the water. Just immense. After that we checked out seals, elephant seals and penguin nests. We were 2 weeks off seeing the penguins and killer whales, but after our morning it really didn´t seem to matter. We were all completely blown away. Even Duncan rated it in the top 5 things we´ve done, and he hates animals. Plus for that moment I finally really let go of any concern that I´ve done the wrong thing in ditching everything and coming away. When do you ever get to be face to face with something so amazing? Hardly ever. Fact.

Pacha

2006-08-21T23:30:00.000Z

I wouldn´t be seen dead in a super club like Pacha back home. Not nearly enough Kylie. And waaay too many posey types in sunglasses (it´s a NIGHTclub. Take them off.) So I did kick and scream a bit. But everyone was up for it, and after a few bottles of red with Joe, Ronan, Nora and Disco Dan it was pretty much a given that I´d be going too.

And guess what? Loved it, didn´t I?

Danced like a mad thing until about 8am when the others hit the after party (wish I´d gone) but had to sub a cab for Joe and Mole who were out of cash. Got back to the hostel, necked a couple of coffees then took myself to the club over the road that was still banging (at 9am on a Sunday morning. I mean, what the?) Danced on my own to some trance (seriously, what´s THAT all about) until some French guy called Sebastian (who smelled like sick, nice) gave me a wake up call that it was probably time to go. So, that´s what I did.

Nightcrawlers

2006-08-19T16:21:00.000Z

This place is mental. You think about looking for a restaurant for your evening meal somewhere between midnight and 1am. Then after your amazing, massive steak is all washed down with the House Red at about 2am it´s back to the hostel for drinks - maybe a bar, and then hit the first club at 3ish. It was a dance music this time, and by the time we got back breakfast was in full swing, so Dave and I tucked right in. It was proper filth.

Other news. Tristan´s here, which is rad. We had Dave and Dan´s eat off. Dave won. I had my hair cut. Cheap as chips. And today I´m spending my birthday money that Duncan collected (thanks again guys) on having proper hair extensions. Get in. Apart from that, no-one really sees daylight here. So there´s not a lot to tell. Push it, let´s push it, push the feeling on. Push it, let´s push it, gotta keep moving on...

BA, baby

2006-08-17T01:55:00.000Z

Argentina´s going to be the death of me.

EVERYONE´S here. It´s like a travelling reunion. Big Dave, Suzi, Dan, Australian Chris, Louisa, Joe, Ronan, Nora, Marcin. It´s mad. We´re in the hostel that never sleeps (Millhouse) and were still up drinking beer at 9am this morning after a mental night on the tiles (I´m sorry, did I say I hate drum and bass?)

D is for duck monster...and Dave

2006-08-17T01:20:00.000Z

You still here? So yeah, there we all were in Paraty a charming little town with cobbled streets and loads of character. Got there at night and checked in to a hostel with Dave and Mark, and ran in to Jonty and Maccin who we´d met on Ilha Grande. Add on Edd who we´d met in Rio and chuck in Gigi, a sweet, crazy Italian (the hips never lie) and we had the crew. Roasting weather, a day out on a private boat (more swimming in crystal clear waters with tropical fish - snore) a trip to a surf beach and a night out in the centre which was littered with authors and book-types (got in at 6am after dancing with Dave in the dingy Irish bar) and that was Paraty. Yeah, loved it didn´t I?

And then there were three. Me, Duncan and Dave headed off for another island. Ilhabella. It was a bit rubbish if we´re honest - really expensive, hard to get around and the worst bit was the boys making me do an intermediate hour long trek to a waterfall (guys, it was pants) where I got bitten to shreds (again) and didn´t even have a dip because the water was stone cold Steve Austin. But I laughed. Hard. For the entire time we were there...

Dave fell in love with us (clearly) and changed his plans so he could tag along to Sao Paulo. We fell in love with Dave (one maybe more than the other) and were glad of his (hilarious) company. Spent 2 nights in the city, wandered the streets, went out for dinner, did our best to dodge the duck monster and met up for drinks with Mark. Then came the emotional goodbye at 1am. All too quickly. And I´ve been blue (dah ba dee dah bah dah bah dah bah dee) ever since.

Living on the island

2006-08-17T00:42:00.000Z

So, the last week and a half have blended almost seamlessly into one tropical beach-type holiday. After one final night of carnage in Rio, we ditched it and headed to Ilha Grande with Chloe, Justin and Yelena - a small, perfect island a couple of hours away. What followed were a handful of days of sun tanning (right, I´m officially brown and it´s NOT FROM A BOTTLE), white sand beaches (Lopez Mendes, one of the best in Brazil allegedly), boat trips and dipping in blue lagoons. Yep. I know. It ruled.

That was until a shrimp pizza on Justin´s birthday landed me in bed for 48 hours with food poisoning. It was far from pleasant for all involved. It was messy. I was ill. And ashamed.

A sad goodbye to Chloe, Justin and Yelena - and then we were on to the next. Mark, an actor who was once the murderer in Midsummer Murders (he´s grappled with John Nettles, don´t you know) and Dave a high school art teacher from London. Duncan and Mark indulged in hot, sweaty treks around the island (no thanks) whilst Dave and I sat out our last day on the beach. Then the three of us headed off to Paraty for the lit festival, daahhling.

Oh brother!

2006-08-02T15:54:00.000Z

So, last night I was full, tired and definately NOT up for any kind of going out. But the boys at the hostel somehow persuaded me to hit a club with them and at about 1am we headed out. Got stopped on the way by police (with guns, of course) who searched us thoroughly for drugs. Which was horrible. Then got to the club to find it was trashy dance music. Which I hate. So that was even more horrible. Plus we´d missed any kind of discount entry as it was so late. So yeah, I wasn´t really feeling it. That was until I got inside the stinking, sweaty dance hell and the first person I clapped eyes on was AMIR.

Being the youngest in the family, I never had the pleasure of having my own younger brother. So I had Ash´s (my best school friend). I´ve grown up with Amir. I adore him. But he´s always been, like, nine or something in my eyes. Anyway, ´nine year old´ Amir looked after me all night, muscled men who bumped in to me and even insisted that him and his friend accompanied me home in a cab, even though I´m pretty sure they weren´t ready to leave. Bless you Amir. It made my week to see you and I can´t tell you how proud I am that you´ve turned in to such a lovely young man. And where did you get those muscles? You didn´t have those when you were at Summerbee Infants.

We´ll have a gay old time

2006-08-01T14:47:00.000Z

It was gay pride on Copacabana beach. Of course it was.

Duncan and I went along. Of course we did.

It was just like being at home.

City of God?

2006-08-01T14:28:00.000Z

Had an insane day. Insania. Did the Favela tour - the slums which surround Rio (where the film City of God was filmed). Man, I have never seen anything like it...

Okay, so the tour kicked off on the back of a motorcycle taxi which, for the record, I HATED. I´ve never been on one, I´ve never wanted to, and I never want to again. The guide had told my driver to go slow as I was petrified (seriously, I´ve never held on to a man so tightly in my life, and that´s saying something), which he did until he got to a point where we could no longer see the guide, and goaded by his Brazilian biker pals - put his foot down. Horrid. Anyway.

Off the motorbike, shakey legged, we walked down through the filthy, winding, steep, rat-infested, corrupt slums. Insane. The guide (Luiz) walked upfront and every now and then would shout ¨no photos¨ - and then we´d pass the main drug dealers and gang members who were all carrying massive guns. Machine guns. Solid gold guns. Guns. Guns. Guns.

There are three main gangs that run the Favelas and there´s a guy who stands watch at the entrance all day, everyday - ready to let off a firework if the police invade to warn the drug barons. Often it ends in a shoot out, and people get shot. So yeah, I was pretty frightened (and have no photos of them, as I wanted to keep my life for just a little bit longer) but it was good to see. If good´s the right word. The poverty that these people live in was really moving and I left feeling pretty lucky.

Happy birthday. To me.

2006-07-28T18:05:00.000Z

I love my birthday. It´s my favourite day of the year, with Christmas Eve a close second. Why? Because it´s all about me. However, I was a bit troubled about it this year. I know, I know - I´m in Rio and all that, which is amazing, but I couldn´t help but think about what I´d be doing if I were back home (drinking cheap wine in Mr. Feenies after work with Corkers, heading to the Ghetto with Ady and the gang to dance with trannies and then taking Friday off work to recover with Dunners. Perfection.) But none of that happened.

Instead, I got to hang out with the big JC. Apart from hold a koala, it´s been the ONLY thing on my check list of things I really want to do this year. So yeah, pretty spesh. Woke up with a bit of a hangover after a few too many unexpected cocktails the night before (Duncan had left me in the hostel bar to ´go and do something quickly´- he took ages. 6 caprhinas later...) and spent the morning feeling old and rubbish. Duncan then presented me with a card covered in messages from all my friends (he´d emailed them all and then copied all of the messages out, hence being ages the night before.) Thanks guys. It was awesome. And thanks for those who sent him money to get me presents, I am so, so touched. An avacado and some olives for my breakfast (I can do what I want) and then we headed off to see the big JC and watch the sunset over Rio from the Sugar Loaf.

Then the party started. Free drinks all night from Leo in the hostel bar, followed by all you can eat meat buffet with new friends Chloe, Justin, Edd, Matt and Jack finishing off with drinking and samba in a huge club down town. I might be old, but I´m lovin´it.

Who made heaven a place on earth? (cringe)

2006-07-20T16:10:00.000Z

Just had four of the most amazing days of my life. Although at the time they just sort of happened and at some points were extremely cold (minus 20 at night - Dad, that counts as freezing, right?) and were also pretty uncomfortable. But yeah. Amaaaazing.

We took a four day desert tour kicking off with the salt flats.

Miles and miles of blinding salt. Salt. Salt. Salt. And you know how I love salt. I was in my element. So yeah, mucked about and did some `small or far away´ pictures (how very original.) Wandered around the cactus island. Chased vizcachas. Explored rock forests. Saw flamingos. Blue lakes. Green lakes. Red lakes. Llamas. Geezers. Dipped in hot springs. Balanced on the top of canyons. Splashed in rivers. Clambered around a train graveyard...

Urgh - it makes me feel a bit sick thinking of all the things we saw and did, and all I can do is list them. Unless you were there though (which you weren´t) the pictures say it all. So check, check, check, check, check it out.

At the Copa, Copacabana (Copacabaaanaaah...)

2006-07-10T21:55:00.000Z

So I´m sat on the cliff top looking over Lake Titikaka, from the Bolivian side (we crossed the border with no problems.) The lake is the bluest thing I´ve ever seen - apart from the sky which doesn´t have a single cloud in it. On the horizon are snow capped mountains, the sun is beating down and the pink flowers to my left would make my Barbie pink room in West London look positively dull. Yet I´m not overly moved. How bad is that? It´s the kind of stuff I´m faced with everyday here, and it´s as normal as seeing Costcutter on my way to work. I guess when you´re surrounded by such outstanding beauty it becomes hard to really appreciate. I keep trying to open my eyes a little wider, really take it all in - but it´s just sat silently in front of me, as if my body can´t quite believe it´s real.

Spent one night on the Isla Del Sol - although again, the half hour walk up the steep Incan steps to get to the town nearly finished me off - and then the boat back to sleepy, hippy Copacobana. Which I LOVE. Bohemian people litter the streets making earings (cool), cars get blessed with flowers and beers twice a day (weird) and street dogs wear clothes (as it should be). It´s just like heaven.

Pushing the boat out

2006-07-10T21:13:00.000Z

Right, my Dad always told me off whenever I´d say I was `freezing´. He claimed that I didn´t really know the meaning of the word. I was cold, yes. But freezing, no. Well Dad, you were right. Because now I TOTALLY know what being freezing feels like. 10 hours on a night bus from Cusco to Puno. That´s freakin´ freezing. The windows were thick with ice inside it was so cold. And guess which idiot had worn her shorts for the ride...

Arrived in Puno. Freezing. Got a taxi to a nearby hostel. Freezing. Climbed in to bed and slept for a few hours. Still freezing. Then we set off for the floating reed islands on Lake Titikaka. Man, I LOVED THEM! They´re these little sets of islands that are made entirely from reeds and people actually live on them. It was tourist city, which was a bit of a shame, but beautiful - and as we got a ride in an authentic reed boat the sun set over the lake. Loved it, didn´t I?