Barcelona - day 1

So we had a pleasant few days in Lisbon. Really pretty town and we were in a great location too, Baxia-Chiado. We were pretty spoiled for choice with the restaurants and food everywhere, especially digging into the egg tarts around Belem (called pastel de Belem), it is also the place where explorer Vasco da Gama once set off for India. Our hostel was really nice, even the fact we were sharing with a weird dutch-mexican guy whose name was actually "Evil" (or at least to us sounded like that).

R and I got haircuts from a salon called Hairport... and unbelievably it was only 28 euro for the works. Have had to pay for a boring hair cut in Aix and it was over 30... bargain. My hair was cut shorter, with a fringe that basically, according to the girl that cut my hair, makes my face look like a love heart. Not sure if I have cutter´s remorse but I heard on the grapevine that hair styling is known to be pretty avant-garde in Lisbon so I thought I´d get on the bandwagon and try it out.

Fast-forward to yesterday, we had our flight delayed twice and we were stuck in the airport waiting for our plane to Barcelona. The captain who eventually flew the plane said he had been flown up from Madrid just to fly our plane... right. The turbulence in the plane basically summed up our entire evening. We eventually got to the place I booked, which is nice and more of a hotel though it´s actually a university residence. I was told it was convenient for transport. What lies. The metro closed at 11pm, we had managed to get out of the room and were told to wander down an area called Fontana, according to the receptionist, there would be "a lot of good places to go eat and drink". No cigar. I know it´s Christmas but surely it shouldn´t be as bleak as the sight we beheld:

• Main excitement was a hobo forcing flowers into our faces
• Everything was closed
• The restaurants that were open were fully booked and we had a minimum waiting time of 30min
• The other contenders were a small kebab restaurant and some random german diner with schnitzel

As we were quite keen to get stuck into the Catalan fare, we held out and looked around. Eventually we stumbled across a tiny convenience store and R tried asking, using the spanish he knows, to get out bearings. Unfortunately, as the shop was manned by a mainland chinese man, there was a lot of confusion and I eventually had to step in as Mandarin seemed to be the only common language. I asked where the spanish restaurants were and where to eat and he said to hold on as he called a friend/see if this "place" was open. If that doesn´t sound dodgy enough, just wait till you hear what happened next.

His friend sauntered along and took us to this place. I made small talk, starting off with: so your spanish/catalan must be fluent by now. The guy said no not at all, I´m from Hang Zhou and I´m unemployed. Hm.

We went to the dodgiest greasy spoon restaurant ever and tried to stomach the menu. It was really gross, we were ordering the spanish things on the menu, even though it was a mainlander gig and hoping it would turn out ok. I guess I didn´t help by saying there might be a sedative in the food, for when they cut out our kidneys and we wake up in an ice bath. Grease, and not at all Spanish. Our mood was really deflated and we all left, our Christmas eve dinner so revolting we all wanted to puke.

Thankfully I had been uncharacteristically resourceful and ripped the inflight guide on Barcelona on our easyjet flight and they recommended a club. It was very similar to the Ivy in Sydney and we spent some hours basking on the couches, sipping cocktails and ringing in the new year. Every cloud has a silver lining.

We had a bit of a sleep in today, it was a real task getting home and I was so cold that once in bed, I was really tempted not to leave. It´s afternoon of Christmas day now, I have booked us in for dinner at a nice place now... and we will probably be out soon for some sightseeing, since shops and the like are all closed today, as it is a day of ´fiesta´.

Hope everyone has a wonderful Christmas! xxxooo

Faro + Lisboa

So basically Paris gets immobilized by snow. My sunday goes like this:

•  M and I up at 5am so we can get the 6.50am bus to the airport, Beauvais, which isn't even IN Paris
• The metro line 1 being stopped 
• Panicked call from R who pulled an all nigher finishing an assignment and who had the same issue at Cadet
• Catching a cab to Porte Maillot -sp?
• Told the bus to the airport had stopped running because of the snow
• Sharing a cab with some random norwegians to get our flight
• Hearing it was delayed and eventually the porto flight cancelled totally
• STRANDED ALL DAY IN THIS PIECE OF SHIT AIRPORT OUTSIDE PARIS
• Herded like cattle into buses to Beauvais because they CBB to get us back to Paris
• Eventually getting home at 10pm that night

We decided to stay an extra day in Paris and flew out yesterday when the snow stopped momentarily, to Faro, in the south. Grungy feel to the place, sudden rains and seafood. Reminded me of this place south of Aix, Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer and R strongly of Romania.

Took a cityrail deadringer to Lisbon. In a really sweet hostel. Every cloud has a silver lining. Food is very cheap here, as is booze. M has done some retail therapy already, really the best place to do it.

Montpellier

This weekend I got out of the bubble of Aix-Paris-London and did something exciting and new. I decided to venture to Montpellier with a few friends I have met on my exchange. Despite my train being delayed twice due to, as the SNCF says: "unfavourable weather up north" I managed to get there in one piece on a cold and exhausting Friday night.

We got to check out the night life (seedy bar, complete with a bear and a twinkie; circling us on the dancefloor) and the beautiful christmas lights. Much like Aix, Christmas markets are a big thing for Montpellier and vin chaud, churros and pretzels were being sold like hot-cakes.

Walking around at night near Place de la Comedie

Montpellier by day, plenty of classical style architecture around

Fondue restaurant with their "biberon" (baby bottle) specialty glasses

All in all a very pleasant weekend with art galleries, long walks around town, rich food (we rolled home fuller than googs with cheese and chocolate fondue) and wine.

My love affair with vin chaud

I am becoming quite hopeless at updating. I sort of figure that when on facebook, people get a good enough glimpse of the happenings of my life.

Christmas markets have sprung up all over Aix. My dad and E had the chance to come down and check it out the first weekend they started. I must say I have been giving the hot wine stand a good patronage... I just love it. I feel like Nigella Lawson now with all the food innuendoes but it ACTUALLY is love in a cup.

Some photos! Of random things/people.

The start of C.Mirabeau and the decorations

With a leopard print brolly and my new wellies! Very happy =)

 

Some father-daughter time in Aix

A Roman Holiday

For those that have my facebook, you have surely seen facebook updates about my little trip to Italy. Actually my first trip to the boot-shaped nation. It was brief; for starters. I got to Rome Fiumicino airport on Sunday evening and was flying out by midday on Tuesday. Not enough time to do much more than marvel at some of the architecture and moan about the state of the weather.

It pissed with rain. All day. The one full day I was there.

I did take some good pictures but generally the weather put a damper on things. That and perhaps the very suss service apartment we booked last minute. Somewhat better than the ill-advised stay in a love hotel in Taipei I had once but not good. I was with my mum and brother and to give you a picture of what it was like, my mum stepped on a rusty nail and was concerned about tetanus.

None the less, I had pizza. I had pasta. I had gelato. Veni, vidi, vici -- as far as the food is concerned.
I was somewhat glad to get back to France, I was pretty sure I'd eventually roll back, bloated by all the carby food. I must say it felt weird to be in a similar language but suddenly deaf and dumb. I was also insanely thirsty all the time and very glad to have juice without sugar, as in Italy practically everything was loaded with it. Still, my interest in Italy is whetted - but I think to really have fun, I'd go somewhere a bit off the beaten track next time.

Remember

Pre-November chills. Bad news from home. I am trying to pick up the pieces and move on. Thinking of anecdotes to remember my grandfather by.

David Smyth

(9 February 1922 - 22 October 2010)

"What is a hormone?"
"It is is a chemical released by a cell..."
"No, it's a sound from a brothel."

"No love, I don't need any sugar. I am sweet enough as it is"

Grandpa: "I need a woman with a sense of humour. Sadly my wife [grandma] was not like that"
Me: "Well you went for her anyway"
Grandpa: "I was looking at other things at the time"

"Julia Gillard, oh what a voice. I feel sorry for her boyfriend"

My grandfather was a real joker. This may come across as inappropriate but he really was hilarious. He will be missed.

The Mistral is beginning to chill

It's the middle of October and it's feeling as cold as Sydney/HK get in winter. I hear it may actually snow, which is rather magical. I have been living in my suede jacket and a number of scarves I have kindly been given for my birthday after my one and only scarf was stolen at a house party we held for a neighbour's birthday :(

Quite a lot has happened, some things I remember and some that are a little foggy. I celebrated my birthday on the 2nd of October in both Aix and Paris, which was very memorable, especially nearly missing the train back to Aix. I literally hopped into the train as the doors were closing. Most people would have shat their pants at that point but look at me, cool as a cucumber.

What strikes me about reaching a milestone in a foreign country is that all preconceptions you would have held about your birthday and social events seems to disintegrate. It's always a case of last minute plans, hoping people will turn up and generally hoping for the best. But I had a lot of fun and am very fortunate that I have met so many lovely people in Aix who were willing to dress up in theme and proceed to spend a sloppy night out at IPN.

The following weekend I was in London and it was a case of seeing things I had seen 10 years earlier with fresh eyes. I got lost in the tube and strolled around Oxford Circus (classier than the Sydney street of the same name), Portobello road and a bunch of other markets, taking in the different smells. Hemp, glass beads and string spilling over in Camden town; sweetmeats and cheeses in stunning rows in Harrod's; rusting metalwork and leather goods in Notting Hill.

Now anticipating R's visit this weekend to Aix. Hopefully we'll hit up Marseille on the saturday if we aren't too tired, as aside from the airport, I have yet to really visit it.

Life in the land of calissons

This has been an interesting month.

• I changed my SIM card and kept a low profile and yet Aix is so tiny that I needn't have bothered, saw the unspeakables again
• 2 squatters in the apartment
• 1 mouse in the apartment - we called him Marcel, after the viral video "marcel the shell with shoes on"
• I have been missing asian food so much so at least once a week have been cooking either 麻婆豆腐 or chinese chili eggplant
• I have been learning russian in french
• I have met some truly lovely people
• I have had crises with friends and have walked on eggshells
• I have become stronger as a person
• I have found secret shortcuts that halve my time traveling to the fac everyday
• Sexytits is the bar of choice
• The pole in IPN has been flogged by yours truly
• I have fallen in love with Aix

<3

Arles and Carmargue

Timetabling is very annoying but I think through all the chaos, I have some direction now. Hoping to still take Russian although I know people say that is a tad ambitious.

Friday the uni organised a bus trip to Arles and a few small towns in the Carmargue (Les Baux, St-Maries-de-la-Mer) and generally, despite it being a grey morning everyone seemed to be in good spirits. I did get a freak out meeting this over-enthusiastic American student who I suspect may be in one of my classes... she had already received the reading list and was promptly reading all the books before class started. I feel like the next two weeks I need to chop and change my classes - can't commit to anything yet, especially if I can avoid it, reading Proust in French.


Arles inspired Van Gogh, it is also where he cut his ear off. The story goes he handed it to a prostitute. Poor woman. A new story emerged that it was cut off by none other than fellow artist Paul Gauguin during a drunken fight; this cover fabricated to save his (Gauguin's) reputation as an artist. Regardless, I can see why Van Gogh would be inspired. It's right next to the Rhone river and there are several Roman ruins side by side with Gallic architecture. It's pretty stunning and was perhaps more so in his day.

Night outs this week. I have tried Vodka jet, which tastes like mouthwash. I went to the ladies night as I did before, met someone from Perth, it tripped me out. Last night there was a lot of rose wine, a lot of Usher pumping in the underground club and generally the same hot mess of sweaty bodies. I actually needed to squeeze past this guy and he was drenched in it. Persistence continues however there was a lowlight this week, someone ACTUALLY fulfilled the stereotype and ponged of garlic. Despite the free beer, I am getting a little disenchanted and know next time to offer a mint to the offending party.

"The oracle said wander"

I think I ought to start calling my blog posts by other name to make it a little bit more coherent than Aix 1... numbers ascending. So today was perhaps the closest I have gotten to actual classes. I tasted French university administration and to tell you the truth, I don't want another bite. Think running around aimlessly, filling out stacks of pointless forms and reading fine print. All for someone who won't say exactly it is you need to do or how to get from A to B.

It's orientation week for my university and yet no mention of anything to expect. Or directions for those lacking it, such as myself. I left the apartment before 9am, for the seminar at 9.30am. I got to the actual university after 10.30am. It's a smallish city. The reason? My faculty is perhaps the hardest to reach and despite asking fellow pedestrians, most had no idea where it was. Makes sense, I am on exchange for arts, most students at the uni tell me it is a forgettable and particularly ugly building housing many bull**** degrees.

I eventually got help from a 70 year old man who was sauntering along with a friend, I ended up getting frog-marched up the road with a running commentary of the fabled Mistral. That is the local name for the gale winds that make Aix, and Provence, a wild country upon the onset of winter. I laughed that back home no one would be complaining about rain, but it's impossible for them to understand. Weather in Provence is beautiful year-round, and they aren't trapped in an eternal drought like Oz.

In other news, persistence - a good trait? I have had to block calls all weekend and generally keep a very low profile to detract some unwanted attention. Not the first time this has happened, nor I doubt the last. I have dyed my hair a few shades lighter (though to be honest I don't see much improvement) and cut it for good measure. I shall embrace the Jackie-O sunglasses in weeks to come. Until then euro (s)trippers, stay naughty and get into that booze, assessment time is nearly over.

Non sequitors - Aix

It is the magical hour of seven minutes to 6am.

Quotes of the evening: "Where are you from? Wow, you don't dance like an asian. You dance pretty well"

Ouch, for all my asian brothers and sisters out there.

Aix

What a week it has been since I got here! Amazing food, wonderful people... and a war against mosquitoes.

Clubs in Aix are ... moist. First night I was taken out, it rained. Southerners are not used to the rains at all, and they have a reason to I suppose, it's lovely weather all year round. Running on cobblestones in torrential rain at 2am, not a fantastic idea. In heels no less.

Neither is wearing the same heels while hurrying home for that eight o-clock walk of shame. Masochist? Perhaps. I took my heels off once and glass cut me. Lovely.

I tried Pastis, the drink of the south and have decided it tastes like toilet water.

Last hours in Paris

Yesterday was my last morning in Paris. I was somewhat sad to leave, I can't lie, despite the fact my bank card feels raped, it really is an awesome city. I also encountered my first rude Parisian. See, I feel as though the kind dwellers of Paris get a really bad rep, and maybe this reputation just gets spun out like crazy by everyone elsewhere. My father being a strong believer that there are french people and then there are Parisians. I was finding the latter to be very nice and helpful. This was however until I met this ticket seller in Gare du Nord metro.

Seller: Don't give me 20 euro, I only have coins to give you change with
Me: Madame, I apologise but all I have is this 20 euro note
Seller: I don't care. Use your credit card.
Me: pulls out mastercard. Instantly gets denied in the machine
Seller: I bet you did it wrong do it like this
*card gets denied again*
Seller: wtf is wrong with your card
Me: this is why I need to pay with cash Madame

I was already really late to meet some friends at this point and stressed/tired under the 10kg+ of luggage on my back. So I did the unthinkable. I accidentally "Tutoyé"[d] her. Blog readers who don't know French, that means I accidentally stopped using the massively polite second person form of address and used the more colloquial one.
 
I should have said, since she was a particular bitch:

« Avez-vous des pièces madame? » (have you got any spare change in coins?)

Instead what came out of my mouth was this. Reserved for only people you know.

« As-tu des pièces? »

She went completely ballistic:
« C'EST QUOI ÇA?! qu'est-ce que vous avez dit mademoiselle? QU'EST-CE QUE VOUS AVEZ DIT?! JE NE SUIS PAS VOTRE AMIE. NE ME TUTOYEZ PAS »
(WHAT?! what did you say miss? WHAT DID YOU SAY. I AM NOT YOUR FRIEND. YOU CANNOT BE SO FAMILIAR WHEN YOU TALK)

I apologised profusely. Maybe if I had more than 2hrs sleep the night before I would have been able to avoid this mistake, one that I stopped making when I was about 16. I clearly messed with the wrong bitch. She finally gave me my ticket after berating me for over 10 minutes plus I suspect having a wank under the table since she ignored me part of the time and I didn't see her hands...

Walking away, I was sad I didn't throw the last word at her.
"Oui madame, vous avez raison. Vous n'êtes pas mon amie car mes amis ne sont pas aussi moches que vous, salope"

Google translate that one if you need to - it may not come out stellar. I think this may be one of my sincerest regrets in not getting the last word.

Paris

I have been wandering around like a waif, days have begun at 12pm and I have been sleeping in the morning. Cafe cremes, croque madames, sunglasses and walking down winding streets with purpose. It's like I am the star of a rip off Audrey Hepburn film.

Went and ate lunch at Pigalle and upon leaving the man working there said: arigato gozaimas. I couldn't resist correcting him: je ne suis PAS japonaise. He seemed moderately apologetic and I shouldn't really expect anything more. Ignorant fuckwits are everywhere, George st sydney is no exception.

Need to buy my TGV ticket to Aix. Have kept forgetting, which is easy to do considering I am still homeless.

Amsterdam/Paris

I had magic mushrooms for the first time and completely freaked out of my mind. It may not have been the greatest of ideas as my hosts were due to meet a dutch friend that evening and got me to come too. He was pretty straight laced and was the receiving end of many praises about my mum; what he must have thought about me I dread to think.

My mind became an ocean. They said that the hallucintions make you somehow learn more about yourself. I felt paranoia; accutely. People around me shimmered like an illusion or waves of heat in sunlight. I had to keep touching myself to realise I was still here and not drifting off into some abyss. When people spoke; it was like I was several leagues below the sea. What I can say is that it has given me a lot to write about; inspired me somehow.

I am now in Paris; staying at Montmatre. I walked around the basilique sacre coeur; had a man from guinea bissau stop me to make a bracelet for me, drank a strong coffee and checked out the Salvador Dali museum. No idea what is happening tonight; hopefully something noteworthy! To be honest; I am a bit jaded about Paris - to me; it is like any other big city. Sure it has charm but certain things make it hugely overrated, like the fact everything is so pricey.

Hamburg

Last night, euro(s)trip became just that. I was taken by my german friend to a strip club and  -- she needed to wind down and it was her other friend's idea anyway.

It was very moist. Male stripping novice with a body like a sweaty rock, looming over the table with fake dollar bills stuck to his abs.

Hamburg

German boys are shy. Much more shy than I thought. Apparently up north you need to sustain eye contact and a smile for 5 seconds or longer or they won't approach. Basically last night was a hot mess, I got circled, a la FEVAR club but no one came forward to dance. For shame.

Staying with a friend and fellow couchsurfer. It feels warm here despite the inherent gloominess of the weather.

On a side note, went to a sex shop, saw the fetish section. Apparently asphyxiated blow up doll costumes are in. Word. There are these little surprise sex packs. That include all sorts for 18 euros. I would be more tempted if it wasn't for the fact I have no space left in my massive backpack. Hobo life FTW.

Copenhagen

We woke up slightly sore on some slopey cushion's on a mate's dorm room floor. However I think this is far better than waking up finding valuables stolen so I took the pain in my leg in my stride.

We went to freetown Christiania, made like the locals... and had a milkshake. Lunch was a blur of happy colours. I got really really hungry afterwards though, which is quite possibly the worst part of traveling, needing to constantly spend money on food. I would report though that even at 7-11, Denmark has awesome awesome pastries.

Walking around more, having coffee and what not, it seems to be the trend here, aside from bicycle riding to just sit in a cafe for two hours... walk a little and go to another cafe. I don't blame the people, it is so windy here, it's a great relief to have something warm in cold hands. We checked in to a dive of a hotel, since Copenhagen hostels are pretty much as expensive as budget hotels. It's alright, we were happy to lie on a bed. We planned to snooze for 30min but R and I ended up sleeping for over 2hrs. It's actually dark now, surprise surprise. We shall try to check out the nightlife tonight.

Off to Hamburg tomorrow afternoon!

Tale of two cities - Malmo and Copenhagen

We crossed the strait Oresund about three times last night. Basically we got in to Copenhagen, didn't look promising with its prices, so we heard that Malmo may be cheaper. So we took the half hour train ride back to where we were before, Malmo, trying desperately to find accommodation at 3am and trying to not get rolled.

Highlight: accessing the internet and making friends with a Greenlandic hobo who refused to let us leave until he showed us his home town on google earth. However, failing to type in the place and only typing earth will only get you so far.

Lowlight: it is so fucking cold.

We ended up sleeping on a friend's floor. Hoping to find a hostel for tonight before we leave to Hamburg. I am hoping, or praying, that today will be Copenhagen's time to shine.

Copenhagen

It is close to 1am, nothing is open and R and I are bedraggled in the train station.

Some friendly people around, one let me use their phone to call. Otherwise not sure whether to crash at a friend's dorm or to splash out on a hotel.

No dogs with cut-able tails.

Stockholm

Had fikka in the old town, Gamla Stan.

Vegetatian food in Sodermalm.

Stockholm has a really great vibe, despite perhaps the crapness of the location of our hotel, it is definitely a place I would return to.

Tallinn day 3-4

So basically we missed our ferry due to being in a sauna induced coma and generally shit time management skills.

• We hopped on a random bus because we walked for about 30min AWAY from Tallinn, by accident, and didn't need to pay since we were lost in translation by the driver
• Our CS host, being a complete legend, took us back for another night
• We smoked hookah and had more sauna
• Went to a reggae club and danced like the ceiling was burning
• Jumped on train tracks as a short cut
• My ribs hurt from the jump
• I got my very own massage. It was awesome.
• Our travel plans are yet again askew, E is going to London the minute we arrive in Stockholm
• I just realised that the pics I have on fb right now consist of about 1 tenth of what I took but cbb to update
• Easyjet can get fucked. Tossers.

Tallinn, day 2

So basically my life is a hot mess. And not necessarily in the good way, if that is possible.

• We got drunk by 2pm.We meaning R and myself. E had a kebab so he was considerably more sober than us two 
• Puking in the park
• Penis game in the old town
• Our host stripped and mooned tourists and I have photographic evidence if you don't believe me
• Passed out, first time it's happened in months
• Plans derailed. Tempers flared. All of us began to want to kill each other. E and R are Germany and France and T is Switzerland.
• We missed our ferry to Stockholm. Because we were too dopey after the sauna to get our asses moving when we had 20min to spare. LOL
• The seedy eurotrash club in Eurotrip (the movie) was not phoney. It was reincarnated in the shape of Hollywood club. "hollyvood cuuuub".
• Everything here is pood and it gives me the shits.

The end

Tallinn

We arrived in Tallinn, Estonia this morning. 6am to be precise. We took a bus from Riga in the wee hours of the morning. It smelled like piss and that was just the seats. I was wedged between 3 fat people including a man who seemed to become more and more naked as the 6hr trip progressed.

We are staying with a couchsurfer now and he is a cool guy. We have the attic and had a snooze after a much needed shower... going for about 24hrs without one, eww! Our host - like the vast majority of Estonians - has a sauna in his cellar. I forsee us steaming it up tonight, tipsy, before heading out on the town. This part of eastern europe is very scandinavian, which does not surprise as Helsinki is only 1hr away by car.

Night time in Riga

Latvian food is interesting. I guess it's in the same mould as all eastern european food: heavy. We ate wild boar and rabbit last night and were pestered by a bee again.

Though it being a Tuesday, we hoped to find an open club. Even the casino here was dead, perhaps not a good sign. Eventually we headed to a gay/sex club called XXL. Think chains, red walls, hairy "bears" holding hands. R and E were hit on badly by two Latvian guys pushing 40. One of them, claiming to be a doctor, told us conspiratorially that his "lover is 16... but he have big penis. Nyam nyam". Well we know who is the bottom in that relationship. Age of consent doesn't seem to be an issue.

Riga

Our introduction to Latvian driving, notorious for being the worst in the world:

Taxi driver: are you have fright of the speeds?
Us: no we're cool
Taxi driver: you are cold?
Us: no, we're ok

Then he hurtled at breakneck speed, using entire streets to turn and generally having a free for all attitude. Somehow, I don't feel so bad about my driving in Sydney any more. This guy was a fright.

Warsaw

Took a train to Warsaw today, 6am, Indian dude was flirting with his Polish gf, playing bongos. I got drenched walking in the park with R and E. We're couchsurfing right now, and it's awesome. Hoping to find one in Denmark still.

Prague and Krakow

This is our second day in Praha and this evening we are taking a sleeper car to Krakow, Poland. If I survived the Xinjiang sleeper once I think this one shall be ok.


The 25 to a room hostel was actually not too bad, a little rough around the edges but cannot complain about the cheap ass breakfast.

We walked our legs off yesterday and undoubtedly it will happen again, with added baggage. Joy.


Last night I broke my vegetarianism big time. With a meat plate that would put the behemoth servings in Lowenbrau to shame. We rolled out of the restaurant which was a nice little hole in the wall. I am typing this after a big breakfast, we will not be eating till dinner. Wonder how it will go. No more absinthe for us though; this is a repeat offence on my part, the drink and I do not mix. No fairies but we were drunk by 1pm. It helps when one of us has a birthday, as R did.

PRAHA

Yesterday would have received an award. AN AWARD FOR THE MOST TRAUMATIC DAY ever. Nearly lost my passport and would have been the star of my own horror story: Terminal 2 - Crazy Bitches in Praha.

But of course things ended up turning out ok... I just had a massive panic attack after not taking my meds and lacking days of sleep. Now I am in a hostel, still really unused to these european keyboards. So we are going out and about today, taking photos, should be good. I will also invest in one of those bumbag things for my passport. Fashion and style be damned.

Ed and i are in paris, walking...

Ed and I are in paris, walking in Vincennes, completely lost. I just saw quite possibly the classiest kebab joint ever. No drunks or hobos outside. In other news; I don't understand french keyboards...

Doha

I'm at Doha airport, Qatar. I feel a little woozy, not sure if it was just the flight or the fact I recently recovered from a cold. It was admittedly a very smelly and crowded affair, yet again I had the misfortune of being behind someone who reclined their seat all the way back.

Doha airport is like many of the UAE airstrips: huge, almost endless airconditioned palaces. Duty free shops with all manner of luxury goods piled high to the ceiling. Ostentatious little embellishments here and there but let's face it, I love it.

I have about 2hrs to kill. Free wireless here, some silly korean boys next to me watching some video and giggling like castrato.

Um... what happened to Denmark?

What indeed? Well seems like the brief interlude there will have to be cut even shorter. E has some business in the UK (sounds like an Italian job but I don't think it's quite so thrilling) so I currently see the mid-end of the trip spiralling out a little unpredictably.

But it's ok, I am the mistress of mishaps after all. We still don't have a place to stay in Denmark yet because the Morrissey-wannabe dude is probably too busy getting stoned to answer my couch surfing request. We plan on sleeping one night in an airport in Riga, Latvia. To save cash. Jesus we're cheapskates.

I'm indulging myself in a very girly way right now -- painting my nails as I type on the keyboard (I know, a travesty, but I also know you do it). This sort of pampering will be alien later on, I see myself looking utterly trashbag by day 3.

It's T-minus 5 days to go till I fly to Paris and there is still loads to be done. I had a brief scare this morning -- or rather, anxious parents did -- because of pretty dire cramps the night before. But rejoice, it isn't appendicitis, which would have been a really crappy note to begin the trip on (pun, intended).

A little whiny voice at the back of my head is telling me to start my arse moving and pack. It's sort of tinny like a mosquito and I am ignoring it for the time being. I will regret this later.

The hitlist

Voila my amazing pixel art skills (not).

So this is where we'll be going, approximately, complete with a small pixellated Tegan riding a baguette (fitting as we fly to Prague, numero uno from Paris).

Before I'll even have time for a café crème we'll be swept away in 6 hours of madness.

As I write, I'm in the process of finalising accommodation. I just sent an email off to a lady who politely asked whether I'd like a private room or to be part of the fray in the 25 person dorm. Obviously the prospects of sleep seem dashed but I'm sure I'll meet some crazy people, hear some sex noises and may be collateral damage when someone smokes a bong. But it'll all add to the experience I want: seeing the rougher side to travels.

And yes I've already been asked if I've designed the toe tag for the morgue but in reality I don't think couchsurfing is as dodgy as it seems. I've planned for 3-4 places within the hostel visits for this experience.We'll see if I end up in a body bag. Otherwise, no judgments people!

The fabled VISA

So I find myself - quite late in the day - applying for a six month Visa at the French consulte. Just my luck to have chosen to do an exchange with a university in Southern France, where they are notoriously slow at everything. As Peter Mayle put it, people from Provence say "I'll do it by the end of the week", which in fact means you'll be lucky to see it done in the next two months.

Anyway, I walked doggedly up to the consulate, they even had a special room with a sliding door for you to sit and wait your turn.

The following dialogue is an example of the sheer bitchiness of the consulate. This chick was definitely a HKer but her imperious glare spoke Gallic volumes.

Lady at counter: "I need your birth certificate"
Me: *presents the original document*
Lady at counter: "No, I want a copy"
Me: "well... you could photocopy it"
Lady: "no. you do it" // aka. "COMPUTER SAYS NOOOOO"

NB: I am fairly certain I saw a photocopier at the back of the office. She just couldn't be bothered to help me.

I didn't argue with that attitude. That woman meant business. But I spent the next half hour running around trying to find a photocopier in the vicinity. I forget to mention this was in a tall office building attached to a mall, so aside from barging into random offices, I was hoping and praying there was a copy shop.

The photocopy god answered my prayers. I got her my birth certificate. And my heart began to sank with the realisation that this woman was a Hong Konger, not a French bureaucrat, so what she put me through wouldn't even compare to what happens in France.

Planning a getaway

I have been -- in all honesty -- looking ahead to my semester exchange abroad with so much enthusiasm I make a child with ADD look subdued.

Coming into my third year at uni, with things beginning to drag as well as my own fair share of dirty laundry I felt it was about time to have a change in scenery, for a while.

At the moment, I am at the final stages of planning the trip before semester starts: I've bought the tickets, I've researched the destinations, I've even contacted couchsurfing hosts in the keen expectation that if I send enough emails out, I'll be able to stay with someone.

Our trip will start in Prague -- the day we fly into Paris, bedraggled, we only have a few hours to lock stuff away in storage before we have to hop on that flight. Then, we'll drift towards Poland for four days, spending half the time in Krakow -- the other half in Warsaw. Following that is Riga, Latvia and Tallinn, Estonia; our own taster of the Balkans.

Somehow -- I've heard there is a boat that takes you from Estonia to Scandinavia, where one is head to head with drunken Swedes -- we'll end up in Stockholm. Hopefully none the worse and no one eventually kidnapped (sorry, I couldn't resist), we'll head on to the lovely Danish city of Copenhagen before my fellow travellers and I part ways. I'll spend the remaining few days in Holland, where I shall be soaking in the many sights...


Of couse, every seasoned traveler knows that whilst you may organise your trip to death, it rarely plays out according to plan. I hope it'll be a crazy excursion and be sure to give updates as to how the best laid plans have, perhaps, dissipated.