People always ask me why I've come from sunny Australia to cold, grey London. I always tell people I wanted new challenges and to have Europe on my front door step. When I arrived I compiled a list of places which I wanted to see - Stockholm, Dublin, the French Riviera, Cinque Terre, Copenhagen, Croatia, etc etc.
The last couple of trips I've done I've had the pleasure of being able to travel with a companion. So it was great to be able to head out to explore the world again on my own - the lone traveller and his own two feet. Being the control freak I am and having little time to prepare for my trip, I decided to take the easy option and visit an English speaking country on my list. There were plenty of cheap flights to Dublin, and scored a 1 pence flight from Dublin to London! Unfortunately taxes and charges and everything else added to the cost, but still, better than paying 30 pounds for a flight.
As usual I was way too early for my flight from Heathrow, only to find my Aer Lingus flight (yes, I deliberately chose to fly the Irish flag bearer) sitting on the tarmac for an hour while the congestion cleared. I was non-plussed really - I just sat there and contemplated life and listened to the sweet sounds of Irish accents waft around me.
On accents. I just love the Irish accent. Their rolling "r" sound and the melodic sing-song is enough to make you swoon for hours. Though, I can confirm that "northern Ireland is more sing-song than southern Ireland". On the flight, two Irish lads sitting next to me were having a quiet conversation of mostly swear words. Amusingly, the "f this and f that and she's a f-ing b*" discussion sounded so friendly and upbeat with their Irish accents you could be forgiven for thinking that they were talking about the posies of flowers they were going to give to their mums for Christmas.
When discussing this with my flatmate, I have since been advised that my accent has gone slightly English. Aghast at this thought (but secretly pleased at my incredible assimilation), I asked her for proof. Apparently when I had been on the phone to the plumber (my tap broke), all my questions ended with a downwards inflection. I pondered over this on yet another delayed train journey. When Aussies ask a question, the inflection goes up. Asking "would you like a cup of tea?" in English English ends in a downwards inflection. And apparently my inflections are now heading south. Admittedly, I do mix between the two - when introducing myself as an Aussie I do nasal it up a bit. And when talking to the Brits my modulation is increasingly "how now brown cow".
As is the manner in which I speak. "How bloody bizarre" is now replaced by "how very odd". "How are you" has been killed off with "Alright?". And "that'd be great" chewed up and spat out with "I should be most grateful". Yes, I should be so grateful that this brown cow is slowly turning into a ponce.
But back to Dublin. After getting an enormous green stamp in my passport, it was off to wander the streets. Dublin is an incredibly compact city. After walking for about 2 hours, I had done the complete circle and thought to myself "what next?". So I ended up backtracking and going into a few buildings such as the National Library and wandering around the very pretty Trinity College grounds where I felt like an interloper amongst the young crowd. I tried to get into the Irish Parliament, but to my annoyance discovered that you could only visit by appointment. So much for open democracy. I visited the National Photography Gallery where they had an incredibly beautiful exhibition of B&W photographs done by an Irish photographer. Pictures of the most mundane things like the wood planks on a jetty can be absolutely magnificent in black and white.
By happy coincidence, my old mate from Uni Liam, happened to be in town as well that weekend and we arranged to meet up for a bite to eat and a drink. At dinner I had an Irish stew which Liam seemed to enjoy more than I did, and I had my first Irish Guinness! It's probably not something I would ever choose to drink again - a very heavy and creamy lager, but I was glad for the experience. We wandered around the rather touristy Temple Bar area which is a series of cobbled lanes of arty shops and pubs blaring out quaint Irish music. We ended up at a nice bar and had a yarn with the friendly barmen and was introduced to the rather mellow Kilkenny lager which was more to my liking.
Back at the hostel in my 12-bed dorm without the usual necessities such as lockers or having more than 1 shower or toilet for 12 people, I met an American girl who talked and talked and talked at me for over an hour. She was lovely, but I barely had a chance to open my mouth to ask what her name was. Upon meeting nameless American girl from San Francisco the next morning at breakfast I was relieved to find that her chatter was drowned out by a very loud and most unbecoming Aussie surfer girl who was such a "get-up-and-go-and-get-my-vegemite-true-blue-bonza-she'll-be-right-hooley-dooley-maaaaaaate-no-worries-sheila" that I almost renounced my upwards inflection right then and there. It was almost as bad as the Aussie bloke who was parading around his "CATS CATS CATS CATS CATS" scarf around Dublin airport. Dude. There is no need to parade around your allegiance to Geelong.
My final hours in Dublin were spent wandering around O'Connell St, reportedly to be one of the widest streets in the world. There was a street market down one lane where all I could hear was market stall proprietors yelling "forrrr for a tenerrrr". Sorely tempted, I stopped myself from buying 4 tins of chocolates for 10 euros which i would have needed to lug all the way back with me. I wandered by Dublin's largest cathedral, the Christ Church, but decided that I only had the funds to pay for entry into one church. So I decided to go into St Patrick's given its famous Irish namesake. There wasn't anything particularly special, but it was nice and peaceful. Lunch was an expensive affair where I gave up from trying to deal with the cold and found a crepe shop where I settled in with a 5 euro crepe (oh my lorrrd!) and a copy of The Irish Times. Bliss. Nothing better than hot food and a broadsheet newspaper at a communal table - in other words, no lonesome table for 1.
But it was back to London on my 1 pence flight where I had to keep telling myself that for one pence I would be able to put up with the rude Ryanair staff. Of course, the Ryanair gates were in the old basement of the newly refurbished Dublin airport, and of course Ryanair "forgot" to load the catering trolleys on to the flight. Not many happy campers on that flight.
And talk about stamina. Upon landing at Gatwick it was straight on the train to head north to Camden to celebrate David's birthday. Alex was there too which was great, and we had a nice Indian meal with David's friends in Kentish Town. By then I was knackered and had no energy for another Kingfisher beer - so it was back down south to home.
I'm off to see my family over Christmas (not in Australia though, so you'll still have to visit me here), so I've come to the end of the road for my 2007 blog. In December 2006 I would never have thought that I would be sitting in my lovely flat in London writing about my travels to Dublin. With all the usual ups and downs and one step forward two steps back, I'm optimistic for a great start out of the blocks in 2008.
Hoping that everyone has a wonderful and safe festive season. And now, given how little money I have, I am now going to make my lunch for tomorrow. Gone are those hot lunches at the Rialto - in comes the salami, cheese and rocket baguettes. Alright, the baguettes are slightly more expensive, but at 30 pence you can give me a bit of credit. What a bloody difference a year makes for sure.
See you in '08.
Tuesday, 18 December 2007
Sunday, 9 December 2007
the acceleration
The rush towards Christmas becomes more hectic each year. There's always Christmas drinks and parties and get-togethers. A celebration of the festive season and a celebration of the fact that we've all survived the year and can enjoy some time out with our families and friends. A time to look forward to barbecues in the sunshine. Of sitting in the sun with a nice breeze and a glass of chilled white wine. Of thinking of what presents you're going to give. And receive of course. I just need to remember to practice my "I'm very pleased with this shit that I got for kris kringle" face.
This Christmas I'll be meeting my family in Thailand for a short holiday. Not quite the white Christmas I was looking forward to, but some sun and sand will have to suffice for now. What a shame. I mean, really.
It has been a bit of a wild ride the past few weeks. I said goodbye to the Ministry of Justice to start a new post at the Health Professions Council. Just as I was getting comfortable at the MoJ and enjoying the company of my colleagues, off I went again to start afresh. And to have all the stresses of trying to make a good first impression and learning new processes and names. I don't shy away from the fact that it's been heaps stressful, but I figure if I don't drop dead now, that I'll be able to handle far bigger stresses when I finally push everyone else off the corporate ladder so I can enjoy some time being the big cheese and earn mega-bucks and act like I'm superior to everyone else.
My first week at the Health Professions Council has been interesting in a myriad of ways, and so far the people have been pretty friendly with the new interloper. I've already been out for drinks twice, and whether that's indicative of me turning into an alcoholic or something far more sinister bubbling below the surface, I won't speculate. Two points of order, Mr Speaker. I've enjoyed for the first time in my life having a tea-lady in the office who makes me a cup of tea at 10am and 2.30pm every day. I could get used to this. But then, my brother has had his own secretary from day 1, so I guess I have some way to go to catch up. The other great thing is that people play their i-pod in the office, and while I'm not usually a fan of music at the office because it can be distracting, I'm liking that I can listen to music I would not hear of ordinarily.
Went to check out Oxford last weekend which was a nice little breather away from London. Oxford is a grand old dame of England, with uppity old buildings and the like. Beautiful in the sunset, not so beautiful in the drizzling rain. I learnt some interesting things on the "official" tour, such as Oxford University not having one single campus, but a university having a multitude of colleges. The guide pointed out that people wearing "University of Oxford" tees are less likely to be students at Oxford as students' allegiance is to their college first, rather than the whole institution. I wondered how I would have turned out had I managed to study at such an exemplary institution where you have 1:1 teaching in your subject. I'm not sure how I would have coped with such intensity, but the chance to talk about politics for hours on end would have been incredibly inspiring. Understandable then how important Oxford is in terms of its prodigious output - Prime Ministers, literature, scholarly thought.
Little wonder I didn't graduate from Oxford. Poor old Melbourne University is perishing in its own thoughts of me being a member of its alumni.
My parents sent me a care package in the post this week. I was thrilled that in the package was a pile of newspapers with all the analysis of the Australian election. I know i labour on politics a lot in my blogs, but I've come to realise how much my interest in politics forms such a part of my life.
He says the man who would never dare to run for public office himself.
This Christmas I'll be meeting my family in Thailand for a short holiday. Not quite the white Christmas I was looking forward to, but some sun and sand will have to suffice for now. What a shame. I mean, really.
It has been a bit of a wild ride the past few weeks. I said goodbye to the Ministry of Justice to start a new post at the Health Professions Council. Just as I was getting comfortable at the MoJ and enjoying the company of my colleagues, off I went again to start afresh. And to have all the stresses of trying to make a good first impression and learning new processes and names. I don't shy away from the fact that it's been heaps stressful, but I figure if I don't drop dead now, that I'll be able to handle far bigger stresses when I finally push everyone else off the corporate ladder so I can enjoy some time being the big cheese and earn mega-bucks and act like I'm superior to everyone else.
My first week at the Health Professions Council has been interesting in a myriad of ways, and so far the people have been pretty friendly with the new interloper. I've already been out for drinks twice, and whether that's indicative of me turning into an alcoholic or something far more sinister bubbling below the surface, I won't speculate. Two points of order, Mr Speaker. I've enjoyed for the first time in my life having a tea-lady in the office who makes me a cup of tea at 10am and 2.30pm every day. I could get used to this. But then, my brother has had his own secretary from day 1, so I guess I have some way to go to catch up. The other great thing is that people play their i-pod in the office, and while I'm not usually a fan of music at the office because it can be distracting, I'm liking that I can listen to music I would not hear of ordinarily.
Went to check out Oxford last weekend which was a nice little breather away from London. Oxford is a grand old dame of England, with uppity old buildings and the like. Beautiful in the sunset, not so beautiful in the drizzling rain. I learnt some interesting things on the "official" tour, such as Oxford University not having one single campus, but a university having a multitude of colleges. The guide pointed out that people wearing "University of Oxford" tees are less likely to be students at Oxford as students' allegiance is to their college first, rather than the whole institution. I wondered how I would have turned out had I managed to study at such an exemplary institution where you have 1:1 teaching in your subject. I'm not sure how I would have coped with such intensity, but the chance to talk about politics for hours on end would have been incredibly inspiring. Understandable then how important Oxford is in terms of its prodigious output - Prime Ministers, literature, scholarly thought.
Little wonder I didn't graduate from Oxford. Poor old Melbourne University is perishing in its own thoughts of me being a member of its alumni.
My parents sent me a care package in the post this week. I was thrilled that in the package was a pile of newspapers with all the analysis of the Australian election. I know i labour on politics a lot in my blogs, but I've come to realise how much my interest in politics forms such a part of my life.
He says the man who would never dare to run for public office himself.
Monday, 3 December 2007
the little things
Some things never change. The satisfaction derived from dunking Tim Tams into a cup of tea after arriving home from work (and now that I'm living in England, the satisfaction of doing that doubles automatically). Enjoying a walk in the cold air listening to music.
And new pleasures. Watching the Thames from my bedroom window. Choosing which museum to go on the weekend. Last weekend it was the Victoria and Albert Museum - a powerhouse in the breadth and depth of its design collections. Writing in my blog and thinking back to what I've done and where I've been. Playing pool with my cousin in Chinatown and giving puzzled looks to Chinese gang-sta boys running around with British accents. And receiving puzzled looks when these British Chinese boys hear our Australian accents. Sadly, my ability in ensuring the cue hits the little white ball at the correct velocity and angle has been found wanting. David 2. Taffy 0.
Of course, when you move to a new city everything isn't always beer and skittles. There are the days when I just want to close my eyes and wait for the blackness to recede. But the end of the blackness only shows you that there's no other option but to push on. As my mum said to me before I left: breathe. smile. relax.
In my darkest days there is the joy of having friends so close, yet so far away. Truth be told, I'm not sure if I would ever survive without technologies such as skype and messenger. Maybe Telstra was a force for good after all.
Of course, the thing that has changed the least has been my appetite for politics. I was insatiable in devouring news of the election. For the first time in many years I missed watching the ABC and the count, but had to make do with a radio broadcast on the internet.
Vale the Australian Democrats. Your scrutiny of legislation in the Senate will be missed by the Australian people. But it's time to open a new chapter for progressive politics in Australia.
It's time for the sun to come out.
And new pleasures. Watching the Thames from my bedroom window. Choosing which museum to go on the weekend. Last weekend it was the Victoria and Albert Museum - a powerhouse in the breadth and depth of its design collections. Writing in my blog and thinking back to what I've done and where I've been. Playing pool with my cousin in Chinatown and giving puzzled looks to Chinese gang-sta boys running around with British accents. And receiving puzzled looks when these British Chinese boys hear our Australian accents. Sadly, my ability in ensuring the cue hits the little white ball at the correct velocity and angle has been found wanting. David 2. Taffy 0.
Of course, when you move to a new city everything isn't always beer and skittles. There are the days when I just want to close my eyes and wait for the blackness to recede. But the end of the blackness only shows you that there's no other option but to push on. As my mum said to me before I left: breathe. smile. relax.
In my darkest days there is the joy of having friends so close, yet so far away. Truth be told, I'm not sure if I would ever survive without technologies such as skype and messenger. Maybe Telstra was a force for good after all.
Of course, the thing that has changed the least has been my appetite for politics. I was insatiable in devouring news of the election. For the first time in many years I missed watching the ABC and the count, but had to make do with a radio broadcast on the internet.
Vale the Australian Democrats. Your scrutiny of legislation in the Senate will be missed by the Australian people. But it's time to open a new chapter for progressive politics in Australia.
It's time for the sun to come out.
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