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Holly vs the world

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hollyabroad

An Aussie traveling the world and getting her tourist on. A few home truths but mostly fun!!!

The Tourist

Monday 19th August – Wednesday 21st August 2019

The front half of my first whole week in London Town was spent being a complete tourist and ignoring the fact I now live here and at some stage will need to earn money.

Unlucky for Kyles, she was up bright and early Monday morning and off to work while the Geordie and I each claimed a couch and binge watched Mindhunter… Ashes and birthday recovery, don’t roll your eyes Mum!!!

Finally the Geordie and I we got off our arses on Tuesday and decided to get our tourist shoes on, with a dear friend leading the way, let’s call her Sheila.

Sheila had plans to take us to an epic brunch spot, being secret squirrel about the location, Nora and I just followed like sheep. I tend to be a sheep a lot in London. The day full of shits and giggles started with pranking the Geordie on the tube. While he nodded off with no idea where he was or where he was going, Sheila and I snuck out of sight, his face when he opened his eyes and we were gone was priceless…. maybe you had to be there…

Verging on hangry Holly territory we arrived at our final destination and by gosh it was worth the wait!! Am I the only one that didn’t know there’s a Little Venice in London??? Was way too hungry to take a pic of my food but just imagine a 5 star brekkie of eggs, bacon, avo, sausage and mushrooms, yeah I was hungry… and a Bloody Mary of course, they are becoming a brunch essential… once again can feel my mum rolling her eyes…

After stuffing our faces we wandered through Little Venice, I love all these little surprises in London. Canals with house boats, gardens everywhere, how does anyone diss London??? Ok, I may sing a different tune when I’m freezing my arse off in a few months but for now the sun is shining and London is putting on quite the show.

With Sheila once again leading the way through canals and over bridges we found our way to the Freize outdoor sculpture exhibition in Regent’s Garden. Hmmm, I’m not quite sure how to describe this one… interesting??? I’m obvs not an art aficionado but I just didn’t get it. Yeah, they were kinda cool, had names I couldn’t pronounce and descriptions I didn’t understand. Maybe this Aussie bogan just isn’t cultured enough! Still had a bloody good time wandering in the sunshine, cracking dad jokes and posing with my favourite number…

Why was six scared of seven?? Cos seven ate nine…. hehehe…

So after feeling sufficiently cultured and with a Geordie that had a thirst to quench, we hit up Camden markets. I visited this awesome place over Christmas and it hadn’t lost any of its charm. A soft serve, bubble waffle and cider or three later, we made our way to The World’s End. The all time best pub I’ve ever been too. Just too cool for school. Heavy metal sound track, my kind of art, funky interior and ribs n wings to die for. Check out the cocktail names, too funny! Yeah, I could live here!!!

After an eventful day doing the tourist thing, it was “home” to Brixton. Sainsbury‘s pizza for the second night in a row but you won’t hear me complaining!!

Wednesday was another more productive day in the tourist stakes. Once I was fed… Somehow I let the Geordie convince me he knew an awesome lunch spot, cos let’s be honest, by the time we got our arses moving it was way past breakfast, even brunch. On the way to said secret lunch spot, we stopped by and said hi to queenie at Buckingham Palace. Apparently Nora had an open invitation for tea and a crumpet but unfortunately she wasn’t home that afternoon. A secret squirrel tells me when the flag is at full mast, queenie is home. Maybe the Geordie wasn’t as welcome as he thought…

So we walked, and walked and walked, we walked for so long I thought I’d made it to Scotland. The poor Geordie got to experience a hangry Holly first hand. I must learn to be patient, when someone makes me wait for food it’s usually worth it. Points to the Geordie, fried halloumi and chips aboard an old ship docked on the Thames opposite the London eye, with a gin bar. Dude knows me well. Might have to start using his real name.

The highlight of the day and the reason the Geordie travelled all the way to London, besides the pleasure of our company, and the Ashes, and Corfu… a Jack the Ripper tour. Having sufficiently stuffed our faces at 4pm (yes, I somehow waited that long for food!?!?!), we met Kylie for a coffee in White Chapel. Didn’t realise she hadn’t had dinner and the said coffee joint only served… you guessed it, pizza. Poor love had to eat pizza for the third night in a row. Enough about food, onto the main event. Thank God for Wikipedia, besides knowing Jack the Ripper was a serial killer of prostitutes back in old London Town, I surprisingly knew not much. Somehow I hadn’t watched the Johnny Depp movie. Quick – go read Wikipedia now… I had to…

So in summary, they never worked out who Jack the Ripper was, he grusomely stabbed and cut open women and displayed their organs along with their trinkets in locations all over London. Plenty of theories about who he was, the Queen’s physician (?!?), a polish butcher (makes sense), an educated upper-class man, no one ever suspected a woman could commit the murders. Interesting, had they not seen Killing Eve?? Maybe not. Credit to the tour guide, a charming English lass armed with a handheld projector, throwing up images of locations and autopsy pics on street walls. With dire warnings of the gruesomeness of the autopsy pics, I expected, well more grossness. Pretty sure I’ve seen worse on NCIS. Anyhoo, awesome tour, interesting history and worth the couple of hours. The Geordie was enthralled and had a tick on his bucket list. You’d think with a stomach full of fried food and stories of a serial killer rampant in my new home town I’d have trouble sleeping… slept like a log, maybe I subconsciously knew to bank up the sleep hours ready for Corfu!!!

P.S. Stole these pics from the Geordie…

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Happy birthday to me!!!

Sunday 18th August 2019

All credit to Kylie, I was quietly trying to ignore my birthday as I do every year but the lovely lady organised a birthday/welcoming party of her nearest and dearest to help celebrate my day. We also let the Geordie tag along. We still can’t seem to shake him…

After Facetime calls from home, smiling like I hadn’t just drank Connor out of all the gin in England, we headed off for our afternoon destination, the Mercato Markets. Like me, you’re probs thinking markets aren’t really where you’d expect to have birthday drinks, am I right?? Once again, the Brits kick our arse when it comes to markets. Add a gin distillery, a brew house, an epic beer garden and food stalls from every corner of the globe and you have the Mercato Markets. Bloody brilliant place to spend a birthday, even for a grinch like me!! And there were ribs, which after bacon are the easiest way to make me happy… my birthday in summary: eat, drink, laugh, repeat… fingers crossed for many more birthday repeats to come!!

So now to the serious stuff. Taking stock of your life on your birthday can be dangerous, or fulfilling. I’m somewhere in between. I’m now hitting late thirties and in all honesty, I’m not in the place I thought I’d be. And I don’t mean the UK. I’m not embarrassed to admit that I wanted the fairytale life. Meet the man of my dreams, fall in love, have a family, travel and just be overwhelmingly happy. There’s a reason all the fairytales finish with the man and woman falling in love then the line “they lived happily ever after” thrown in for good measure. It’d be too scary for little girls everywhere if they actually showed you all the bumps in the road and curve balls between falling in love and the happily ever after. I am lucky enough to have been in love, honestly and truly three times. One died and the other two just didn’t want the same things in life. People have different fairytales. Am I hopeful there’s more love in the future?? Yes and no. I would like for it to happen again, there’s no better feeling in the world than holding the person you love, ok maybe having kids feels better?? And bacon with avo is pretty damn good…. I’ve already been lucky enough to experience all that, possibly more so than other people have so I’m not holding my breathe for that feeling again. I’m not going to revolve my life around finding my person, I’m going to revolve it around me. Sounds narcissistic, I know. And I have been told lately that I make everything about myself, character flaw. I guess what I mean is that my world is going to revolve around being happy with who I am, where I am and being alone. If someone comes along and adds to that happiness, then great but I’m not counting on it. So yeah I’m getting older and the fairytale hasn’t worked out how I thought it would, but maybe I’ll write a new fairytale for little girls, one that says you’ll fall in love, you might lose the person you love but you’ll be ok. Love the person you are and surround yourself with people that love that person too. Do that and you’ll live happily every after. Cue the line “And SHE lived happily ever after”.

Yeah, that was a bit lame but whatevs… it’s my birthday and I can be lame if I want to…

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Aussie, Aussie, Aussie!!!

Thursday 15th August – Saturday 17th August 2019

Well, well, well… wake up on your first day of a new chapter of your life, in a new country with all the hope and opportunities laying ahead… you’d expect one to leap out of bed with anticipation and excitement… not lay in bed til midday watching The Bachelor and eating leftover pizza… one isn’t me! The only thing that got me out of bed in my jet lagged state was the imminent arrival of the Geordie, otherwise known as Pattie, otherwise known as Davie, otherwise known as Nora…

I’m trying to remember what we did that Thursday but all I remember is somehow making our way to Garrick Theatre in the West End to see Bitter Wheat, a play about I don’t know what cos I fell asleep starring John Malkovich, one of the most epic, amazing, brilliant actors of our time, if you don’t know who he is then we shouldn’t be friends. But then I did fall asleep on the legend so I’ll forgive you! There was also a seafood feast before but pretty sure I just ate bread, don’t ask me, I don’t remember… the only thing I recall is the sore neck at the end of the night from falling asleep in my lap… the show was Malkovich impersonating the Harvey Weinstein story, apparently it was real good…

So Friday, a distant hazy memory of not so quite awakedness… there was bacon, at a really cool place in Clapham. Hmmm, what else?? Bacon always tends to take the starring role. Oh that’s right, there was an epic Bloody Mary with vegemite and bacon in it!! The Geordie was there too dealing with my jet lagged sparkling personality.

With an epic Ashes day looming, it was time to get our Aussie on. Of course I could have brought my Aussie bandana, Aussie flag or Aussie bikini from home but no, they are packed in a box somewhere! Between following the Geordie around while he searched for cricket outfit (?!?!?), I managed to find three cheap as chips Aussie rugdby tops, we can wear them to the cricket right? Same same??? The Geordie obvs loved the tops…

With a house full of guests on a Friday night, Kyles was obvs excited to head out and enjoy a night on the town. You can imagine her dismay to find a Geordie and an Aussie fat arming it on the couch when she walked through the door. Not even Korean fried chicken from UberEats could turn that frown upside down. Don’t blame her though, we were pretty damn lame! First Friday night in London and my eyelids were needing toothpicks to stay open.

Onto the main event. The Ashes. Six months in the making, a random ticket draw later and Kyles and I… failed to get tickets… luckily for us and not so lucky for Adam Tanshevcholovamolotov who couldn’t make it so we got one spare, then bless Pete, he couldn’t make it either so Kyles and I were in!! One of us was excited beyond belief to be going to the most iconic cricket stadium in the world to see a legendary battle fought throughout the ages, the other just hoped there was gin. Tough decision which one I was!!!

Thinking back on it cos there’s no way I could have written this on the day, it kinda feels like magic. I grew up idolising my grandad. He was a strong, fit, caring and amazing man. And he loved his cricket. In the days of Ponting and Bevan we would watch the one day internationals on the edge of our seats when Bevan would smash a four off the final ball to win the match. And while I wasn’t a big fan of test matches, i was a 14 year old girl with the attention span of a toddler, his absolute admiration of the Ashes elevated them to legendary status. He would explain to me the strategy, the rules of the gentleman’s game. Thinking of those days makes me smile. My grandad is no longer with us but walking up to Lord’s in my Aussie colours I knew he’d be proud. Believe what you will, I could feel him with me.

After a bakery stop to meet up with our fellow Aussie Melsey and stuff our faces with sausage rolls, the Geordie was well and truly outnumbered as we made our way to the icon. The crew were already sick of my overexcited selfies but kindly obliged for the 100th time as we rounded the corner of the stadium…

So the one thing the Brit’s have over the Aussie’s when it comes to cricket, besides Root who would soon become my favourite player, I am a British Citizen after all… the thing they have over us is that they let you take drinks into the cricket, and not just water. Everyone is allowed a bottle of wine, a couple of premixers or lagers. These Brit’s now how to do cricket.

And finally I was into the home of cricket. Ain’t fake smiling in this one…

Or this one…

Before taking our seats for kick off, I mean the first ball, we just happened to find a gin bar and all kinds of gin goodness, fever tree and Connor… this is Connor, he was to be our bar tender for the day… we had no complaints, dude poured a good gin…

And finally, up the mighty staircase to a view to behold, Lord’s… it was ok… understatement of the century…

Unfortunately, Kyles and Melsey managed to bag seats together, the Geordie and I were each on our lonesome, not that I minded. Quiet time to take in the sights was kinda cool.

After a few overs it was gin o’clock. After being able to relocate next to Nora the rest of the afternoon consisted of sunshine, gin and checking the real “football” scores. Unfortunately it wasn’t a good day for Port and only a half decent day for the Aussies.

One of my highlights of the day was being able to hit a cricket ball on the ground at Lord’s. And by ground I mean grass, on the outer, not on the actual grounds with 100,000 people watching… still cool nonetheless, reckon I got a few sixers…

Another highlight, food court cricket. What is that you say?? Give a bunch of larikins a green bin, a bat, a ball and you got food court cricket. And then out came the sandpaper!!! The thing I love about aussies is our ability to ourselves shit. It was all fun and games until a Sheila hit Kylie smack bang in the chest… but she took it like the tough Aussie she is, the gin’s Connor had been dealing out may have helped with that…

Although the rain may have ended the day prematurely, only by about half hour though, it was a day to go down in the history books. Well mine anyway. Chatting to people in the crowd, seeing the Aussies hit fours (no sixes) and seeing Steve Smith nearly get a century, out on 92. Tough luck, but then he is a cheater so not feeling so bad about that one.

After such an epic day and to avoid a crowded as hell tube, we tried our best to hit up the local St John’s Wood (yes, that’s the name of a suburb 😂😂) but we were done, once again to Kylie’s dismay. Saturday night and the Geordie and Aussie just wanted fried chicken and couch time. I was still jet lagged, not sure what his excuse was…

So homeward bound, KFC pick up on the walk home and what should have been fried goodness on the couch was disappointment on the couch, KFC is not the same here, so much oilier and where the hell is the chicken, think I just ate battered bones… anyhooo… they don’t call it dirty chicken for nothing…

Until next time, bucket list item ticked and one hell of a start to my life in London. I think it was when I was climbing the stairs at midnight that Kyles called out Happy Birthday wishes… that’s right, I’m now one year older, ugh….

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Hello old chap

Wednesday 14th August 2019

Well, 29 hours of flights and connections plus over an hour in a cab to Brixton and I’m finally here, London baby!!!

As far as flights and travel go, have to admit, I had it pretty damn easy! After a teary farewell at the airport and a blubbering download of emotions on the Sydney flight, I encountered my first travel fail. Open my earphones case to find it empty. Hmmm, probs in of the hundred boxes I packed. Guess I’ll just have to indulge in some duty free shopping, if I must. The flight into Sydney felt like a fitting farewell to Australia, clear blue skies with views of the Harbour bridge and opera house, with Hugh Jackman’s rendition of I Still Call Australia Home playing in my head. Am worried I may have sung a few lines out loud… for someone that loves her home country so much, kind of an oxymoron that I was so excited to leave it!!!

In typical Holly fashion, I was prepared with my to do list at Sydney airport, which I’ll admit was mostly shopping. A stash of MAC makeup and gin later I decided to indulge myself in a new set of AirPods, my last splurge before I hit the ground in London jobless and homeless. Shopping done and I was headed for the Qantas lounge. I may have left packing, canceling health insurance and finding a job to the last minute, or not at all, but the thing I did organise was my freebie Qantas lounge access via my credit card, priorities right!!! A comfy chair, lemon tart and a vodka later, I spent the next few hours burning my ear off chatting to friends for the final goodbyes… well, not really goodbye, just see ya later alligator.

And now for my second travel fail, where the hell did I leave my brand spanking new AirPods?? Bananas. Searching every pocket of every bag and jacket and they were gone. Somehow between charging them and moving seats between toilet breaks, I’d flushed $230 down the toilet. With high hopes that an honest person had handed them into the lounge reception, my faith in humanity was restored. AirPods safely returned… or were they??? More to come on that one…

As much as it’s humanly impossible to sleep sitting upright on a plane, even after sleeping pills, I still love long haul flights. Binge watching movies and people bringing you food and drinks with absolutely no guilt associated with the utter laziness. Except for the hulk of a Fijian dude sitting next to me, it was smooth sailing through to Singapore with a pit stop to stretch the legs. After searching again for ciggies for Pattie with no luck, I found some empty seats to lay down, listen to music and chill. Hand in my jacket pocket to grab my AirPods and shit, I pull out two pairs of AirPods. Crap. I just stole someone’s AirPods. Is it stealing if you really didn’t mean to????

Back on the same plane, same seat, same hulk and I’m finally London bound. Sitting down I can smell it, the hulk must have ran a marathon cos he’s smelling not so delightfully like BO, even worse than before. Oh no, wait…. maybe that’s me??? Hmmm, let’s just say it’s the hulk… But smells aside, the hulk is awesome, hardly spoke a word of English but got me water while I slept and made sure I got ice cream while I was dozing… nice hulk!

More food, more movies and no sleep later and we’re within spitting distance of London. Excitement is at an all time high. Somewhere in the back of my mind I’m aware this isn’t just a holiday, I’m MOVING to London. Hmmm, future Holly’s problem…

A big bag of fruchocs later and it’s touch down in Heathrow, give or take circling in the sky for an hour. Feeling all up myself for having a British passport and expecting to breeze through customs, little did I know the Poms had introduced new rules since my last visit… aussies, kiwis, and all European passport holders could now “breeze” through the egates. Ugh, not so easy breezy, the line for people from timbuck two is short as hell and all us snobs are stuck in the long long line. Patience is not one of my virtues…

Having heard about the “heatwave” London had recently experienced and having packed for summer, you can imagine my surprise to walk out into rain, pouring down, gloomy AF rain. But in all honesty, I was ready to dance in the rain like a crazy person, so happy to be in the mother country and starting my new life. Or next chapter, still really love all those in my old life!!

Somehow I lucked out and bagged the best cab driver in all of London. Took me past Kylie Minogue’s house in Chelsea, little did he know she wasn’t my favourite Kylie in London… showed me the AFL goal sticks in Clapham Common, gave me tips on the “mad” places to party at night and most importantly, got my jet lagged arse to what would be my new home for as long as Kyles, Sean and Kam would put up with me cramping their style.

Hugging Kyles and seeing her gorgeous smile was exactly what my sanity needed, along with a shower cos geez bananas I smelt ripe, and not in a delicious cherry ripe kinda way!!!

Kyles being the bestiest bestie ever was working from home so I didn’t have to stand on her front porch and cry til 6pm. My challenge was to keep myself busy and eyes open til at least a normal bedtime and not fall asleep in my dinner at 4pm like Christmas Day. So how does one keep busy in a jet lagged state?? Sew buttons back on jackets, go shopping, open a bank account and bacon, all the bacon… and zucchini fries, and chicken and cheese… all while Kylie worked, she hardly got a look in for the food…

Come night time and in a zombie state, it seemed like a good idea to do facial masks, moisturizer foot socks and gin… just can’t recall if I have a face mask on in this pic or whether this is my face after about 50 hours of no sleep…

So life in London starts, equal parts excited and nervous for what is to come. But life is what you make it, either going to love it or hate it, the choice is mine.

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Going, going, gone…

Tuesday 13th August 2019

It’s a weird feeling packing up your life and moving to another country, on the one hand it’s exciting, a massive adventure of who knows what the hell will happen. On the other hand, it’s sad to say goodbye to the people you love and to close the door on what might have been with people you leave behind. For me especially, it’s a fresh start. I’m leaving behind in Adelaide a lot of love but also a lot of heartbreak. In Adelaide I’m a daughter, sister, aunty, friend, marketing manager and widow. In London, I’m nobody. And somehow that feels damn good. I get to rewrite my story. Or more so, finish the chapters that came before and start a new one, with hope that the story is just getting better and I’m one chapter closer to my happily ever after. Not necessarily with a knight in shining armour but with myself.

And that’s my why. If you have a minute, watch the TED video from Simon Sinek called start with why. Yes, it’s marketing blubber but what it comes down to is everyone and everything finding their authentic why, their reason for existing, their purpose. I’m on a mission to find me, I mean I know where I am, sitting on a plane, no need to send a search party, but I want to take some time to find my inner light again, I feel like it’s been on dim for so long. There’s been some moments this year, one especially where I felt my light shine again, I know how good it feels to be in a moment and feel love and happiness. I want more of those moments. And I know they need to come from me, not rely on someone else to make me feel it. And yeah, maybe I could have done that in Adelaide, but I know I needed to step out of my comfort zone and find me through meeting new people, exploring the world and taking pleasure in the wonders of life. Ok, that’s enough blah, blah, blah for now, I’m sure there’s plenty more where that came from!

Right now I’m sitting on a plane, Sydney bound then onto London Town, with a quick pit stop in Singapore. Really didn’t read those flight details carefully! So let’s start at the beginning, why would I choose to be jobless and homeless, pack up my life and leave all those that I love?? …Ooo, this is harder than I thought to write… maybe the better question is, why not?? There’s the saying “Life is short”, but think about it, life is the longest thing you’ll ever do. I’ve never been content to sit in one place and do the same thing over and over again. That is after all the definition of insanity, doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result! Life threw me a curve ball a few years back when Brett died, but in all honesty, my head and heart already weren’t in a good place when that happened. It’s taken me a lot of time to deal with his sudden death, trying not to blame myself, accepting that sometimes you never get a final goodbye, a chance to tell someone you love them. That is life, and it’s not fair… a hard lesson to learn, but to every negative, there’s a positive, it’s the natural order of things. Yes life isn’t fair, but life can also be bloody mind blowing amazing. The feeling of falling in love, the feeling of hugging someone you love and feeling like your heart will burst with how much you feel for them (Marcus and Annabelle, I’m looking at you!), and then the feeling of love hugging your parents goodbye at the airport, seeing their eyes well up with tears, the feeling of being that loved is like nothing else in the world. So yeah, life isn’t fair but when you’re surrounded by that much love, does it matter?? OMG, it turned into another blah blah blah moment… the tears are running down my face and the dude next to me is giving me awkward sideways glances… on a roll so may as well keep rolling… if only I could remember where i was going with all that blah blah blah… hmmm, oh yeah, why am I doing this?? That’s right, life isn’t fair, but when you’re surrounded by love, take the turd, roll it in glitter and make life one big adventure. So that’s my why not. Life has been a turd, travel is my glitter. Plan on finding my inner light again and becoming a disco ball… hehe.. that went downhill quickly!!! Now I’m laughing at myself and I think the dude next to me is questioning my sanity…

So now I’m London bound. Between the tears and laughter there’s a big smile on my face. I’m excited, not nervous at all, I know that the next 18 months will be what I make it. There’s no such thing as fate, things happen because you choose them to. Everything that’s happened in my life is a result of choices I made, in hindsight some weren’t so great, would like a rewind button for a few but they have all led me here. Sitting in seat 24A, drinking my bad coffee, sun shining through my window, and writing like a know it all. But in reality I’m Jon Snow, I know nothing.

Oh yeah, the story on how I got here. It’s no secret I love to travel, it’s my glorious addiction. There is so much of the world to see and experience, I want to go everywhere and do everything. And I’m going to spend the next 60 years doing it cos I plan to live to well over 100 and by then will have a robotic body that allows me to galavant around the world like a 19 year old. Ugh, sidetracked again…Before heading off to spend last Christmas in Europe with my bestie, I decided to sell my apartment in Prospect, take the $$$ and spend from March this year to Jan 2020 traveling. Few curve balls along the way… apartment didn’t sell, fell in love and got my heart broken but I sill ended up on the same path, albeit the “travel” turned into “live” and the 9 months into 18 but all in all, same path. Luckily for me I’m the daughter of a pom so was able to get my British passport. Few hoops to jump through, having to travel to Melbourne to get my British citizenship because I’m an old fart born before 1983, but if you read my blog from my Melbourne trip, you know I had a blast! So now I’m a certified scone eating, tea drinking Brit. Except when it comes to sport, I’m 100% Aussie.

Being a Brit, I’ve got free reign to live and work in the Europe, until Brexit ruins it for me. So the plan is to spend the next month traveling and working on me. Inside and out. I feel best when I’m fit, not a bit pudgey like I am now from way too many farewell drinks and dinners. Wouldn’t take a single one back though, except maybe the 2am Macca’s run. I plan on joining the F45 cult and becoming a fitness fiend. But balancing that with Pilates and the thing I’ve never been able to master, meditation. How the hell anyone can get their mind to stop running at a million miles an hour is beyond me but apparently it’s possible. Being able to turn off the endless chatter in my head at 2am would be a good skill to master. I’m also going to take the time to focus on what makes me tick, besides bacon and gin. And most importantly, work on rebuilding my confidence, to silence the voice in my head that tells me I’m not enough, a voice that got louder from spending too much time caring about what other people think. It’ll be hard, if it was easy everyone would walk around in a bubble of super self awesomeness. I don’t intend to be an egotistical twat, but just to accept who I am and when I meet people, be confident that I have something to offer, friendship, love, kindess. We’re all our own worst judges, I wanna start giving myself more than a 5 out of 10. Wow, this whole post has turned into a sermon, so not about the impending adventure!?! Instead an insight into my inner psyche, hope you’re not scared!!

Now onto the adventure bit!! I’m lucky to enough to have a bestie living in London, the fabulous Kyles so going to crash with her for as long as she can put up with me (ugh, inner voice telling me 5 minutes, shush), then wanna housesit people’s pets as a way of getting free accommodation, but also to figure out what parts of London float my boat so I know where I wanna live. And plan to do some temping work to meet people, and most importantly earn some $$ cos in this world only love is free, and even then… In just under 4 months I’m USA bound to meet the fam in LA then head to Canadia for a white Christmas with my Canadian family who are equally as awesome, then off to Mexico for a wedding. So much adventure already planned I’m doing a happy dance, well not literally, the dude next to me might throw me up out the window… so when I’m back Londonside in Jan 2020 I’ll be looking for a more permanent job and somewhere to live for the next 12 months to come. Sounds like a plan yes??? Oh, and then I’ll be back in RADelaide in Jan 2021 to spend 9 months doing my thesis for my Psychology honours, then I’ll defrost my eggs and have some babies. Easy peasy.

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Epic fails

Sunday 16th June, 2019

Ahhhh, Sunday mornings, check out planned for 3pm so had a lazy sleep in, watched some Netflix on my phone, things people without kids do on a Sunday morning. What a nice surprise it was when I got a reminder from the Air bob host about 11am checkout. Fark, I had 45 minutes to shower, make beds, wash dishes, tidy, put rubbish out and of course run to the shops for replacement Ferrero’s!! Must have conjured some super powers, I was done and dusted in one hour flat, can’t say I was looking my best at the end of it but I was out the door and that’s what counts!! Well, getting a good Air bob rating is what counts!

So what now? Feeling like a packhorse with a backpack, shopping bag and handbag I decided a chill day with a whole lotta nothing would suit me fine. And since I’d killed all hopes of it being a healthy weekend as soon as I set my eyes on Meatball, I did the unthinkable… cheesecake for breakfast!!! Well, wouldn’t say it was unthinkable… I had thought about it 100 times while trekking down Acland St past all the bakeries! Mmm, polish baked cheesecake and a coffee…. Brrrrr. No, that’s not the sound of yum, rather of disappointment… In another first, I left food on my plate. And not just any food, CHEESECAKE!! Tasted like sugar and lemon had an ugly child. How did they go so wrong? Even my Philadelphia packet cheesecake taste better, maybe I really am sick??? Maybe my expectations were too high, they usually are… but when you see this you expect delicious am I right???

Now in a minor grump on account of the crappy cheesecake, I realised I still had the Myki card in my purse, not returning that to the host would definitely be a -5 star rating. Lugging all my crap back up the road to the Air bob, somehow it felt like it’d multiplied in size and weight. All I bought was one pair of shoes and one jacket, must be a record for Melbourne!! But anyway, Myki returned, now what??? I had thought to ride the roller coaster at Luna Park but with a stomach full of lemon sugar and carrying the weight of a small child I thought probs not, so instead wandered the Esplanade on a sunny splendid morning looking at the pop up markets… trying my best to be in a mood as splendid as the day itself… failed.

What the hell is wrong with me today? Not enjoying the markets either?!? Someone got out of the wrong side of the bed this morning… Mind you, this is always the crappiest day of a trip, not just because it’s home time but rushing to check out, having to lug crap around so not being able to do anything overly useful. Determined not to waste my last hours I found the sure fire thing to make me happy: The Espy, beach views, fried chicken, gin and tunes… did not disappoint, I’m easy to please!! And even better, the toilets at the Espy are next level gorgeous. Still love nice toilets, I’ll add that to the list of interests on my Tinder profile…

So in my chill state at the Espy I had time alone with my thoughts, which can be dangerous but in this case, positive and reflective. I realised that the thing I love about cities, is getting lost in the crowd. Being anonymous. Amongst the hustle and bustle, no one really cares who you are or what pain you carry. You can be anyone and the truth is, no one actually gives a shit because to them, you are no one and not in the cool Arya Stark faceless man kind of way. I like being no one, no expectations, no demands. Hmmm, it started positive…

With time up my sleeve, I did a triple check of the Skybus timetable, all on track to catch the… oh wait, double fark… that’s the weekday timetable… now, take a minute to picture me legging it through St Kilda, in the rain, with three bags, umbrella, in boots, and with a belly of chicken and gin, and that gross cheesecake still lingering… yeah, I’m sure it looked as good as it sounds… managed to get to the Skybus stop with 2 minutes to spare, thank my lucky stars for triple checking. Feeling relieved, I took my seat, dripping in rain and sweat only to watch as the bus spent the next 20 minutes doing the rounds of St Kilda only to end up at a stop just outside The Espy… you have got to be farkin’ kidding me… how I made it around Europe in one piece is beyond me… out of practice… at least the ride is pretty…

The saving grace in all the bus drama and nonsense, USB charging docks on the bus… buzzinga! If only I could plug myself in, exhausted, wet and just kinda over it, charge needed, or gin, or chocolate, or all of the above…

After what seemed like a tour of The Block properties, past The Gatwick and that big black box one, finally at the airport and quite frankly too bloody tired to care about stuffing my pockets with my crap to avoid the 7kg Tiger carry-on limit. In a stroke of luck, Tiger don’t have a mandatory weigh in, rather a harmless looking woman wanders the crowd looking for people that may have been trying to push the 7kg limit with a suitcase the size of a small country. I think she took one look at me with my rain infused poodle hair, running eyeliner and wet boots and either felt sorry for me or saw from the look on my face it wasn’t worth messing with that one!! Little column A, mostly column B…

Finally boarding time, once again the plane is parked in the middle of a runway and Melbourne’s farewell was much like its welcome, wet!! Love you anyway Melbs ❤️

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Warriors and wizards

Saturday 15th June, 2019

When warriors and wizards beckon, you skiddadle! Up and onto the tram in lightning speed, only to realise there’s a tram that goes directly past the National Gallery, my destination for the morning. Oh well, nothing like a walk to build up an appetite… for warriors. First time warriors have won out over bacon, actually, first time anything has beaten bacon, I think I’m sick…

So maybe this tram detour was a good thing, time to stroll along Southbank, smell all the yumminess from the restaurants… I think bacon is winning again… but in an effort to be on time for the session, my stomach takes a back seat for possibly the first time in my life and I’m wandering up to the gallery spot on 11… how is it I’ve been to Melbourne a zillion times and never seen how magnificent the National Gallery is?? Possibly because I’ve been too consumed with football or shopping, or maybe because I’m now at an age where I’m appreciating culture…

Heading into the exhibition I smugly thank my lucky stars I bought a ticket online and didn’t have to join the massive cue. Then around the corner, oh, another massive cue of smug peeps just like me. Cue to buy a ticket, cue once you have a ticket, and another cue around the corner to enter, lucky I’m not impatient…

Not sure if it was the wizarding world beckoning or just a general lack of interest in old bowls, the first room of the exhibition was a bit of a snooze, except for this dagger, wonder if it’s Valyrian steel…

But the next room is the money shot. The terracottta warriors themselves. Not sure what I really expected, knew there were only 16 on show but maybe I expected more of a cultured display, if that’s even the word?? Each warrior had its own pristine white mirrored display case, which had some epic inception type reflections, but they seemed a bit, lonely?? Maybe that was just my reflection. Nevertheless, they are magnificent. The expressions on their faces, their different hairstyles and moustaches, each serving a particular purpose – an archer, a warrior, an official, a swordsman, even in terracotta it was clear that back in the day you were one thing. Your role defined who you were in the world and how your life would be. Sometimes I wonder whether being just one thing would be more freeing than trying so hard to be so many people – a daughter, sister, aunty, cousin, friend, marketing manager, traveller, psychologist, widow… but maybe I am just one thing, I’m Holly. Ok – not sure how I went from warriors to defining my life but anyways… these dudes were impressive, I could imagine that in their thousands lined up they would have been quite the sight. But somehow there’s also a sadness to it all, how many people gave their lives to make these warriors? Certainly all the craftsman that got locked in the tomb so they wouldn’t share the secret of its location, and the concubines that had to be buried with the king for his afterlife… we certainly do live in a very different world to when these dudes were created. Grateful!

Teamed with the exhibition of the warriors was the art of Cai Guo-Qiang, a contemporary Chinese artist… may have had to google that one!! Not a massive fan of contemporary art, or possibly just don’t even know what it is. But wow, the first room looked a little something like this…

All these starling birds hanging from the ceiling to look like they are flying together in a murmuration – that phenomenon when they seem somehow connected, change direction together, seem to know exactly what one another are doing. Go google it!! And yes, I had to google to remember it was called a murmuration… The birds weren’t moving but still spectacular, even more so given the birds weren’t painted but covered in paint from explosions, hard to explain, you had to see the video!!! All the other pictures from the artist were colour explosions on canvas, didn’t quite wow me like the starlings but each to their own.

I probably legged it through the contemporary part of the exhibition quicker than a normal joe blow but time was ticking… mapping my way to Princess theatre, I coincidentally had to go past Hozier Ave again and that adidas jacket that I still had very strong feelings for… I was kinda cold, and didn’t bring a jacket today on account of all the buttons falling off my other one, damn those $$$ jumping out of my purse again but it looks good and winter is coming…

So finally back at Princess theatre there’s a few other lucky punks lingering but arriving at 12.25pm as the box office opened worked in my favour and I was first through the door, lucky I didn’t wait til 1!! I was a lucky punk today, scored a ticket to parts 1 and 2, woo hoo, cost me a small fortune but experiences are worth it, and adidas jackets…

So by now you’ve probs noticed a severe lack of bacon in my day, and coffee… finally tickets in hand, it was food time. Funny how even though I can be rushing somewhere a million miles an hour, I can still take note of yummo restaurants and somehow without a map find my way back, maybe a not so bad sense of direction after all, at least when it comes to food!! The place I noticed in my mad dash, MEATBALLS! Kid you not, what it’s called! Knew this place couldn’t disappoint, how do you go wrong with meatballs?? Well, if I’m cooking maybe but just forking out dough this time. By golly, it was heaven on a plate!! Keto diet firmly out of the window, it was pork and fennel meatballs in a home style Italian sauce with fresh parpadelle pasta, basil and Parmesan…one of the yummiest things I’ve ever eaten in my life!!!

And then, it was wizarding time!! I don’t hide the fact I’m a massive Harry Potter fan, never too old for magic! My ticket was in the Grand Dress Circle so the bit right at the top but could still see everything. Obvs no pictures allowed during the show and they are pretty adamant you #keepthese rets from the story so won’t spill!! Set looks like this and let’s just say, there’s moments where I did truly wonder if I was seeing magic!!

Part 1, although a little slow at the start while setting the scene for 19 years later, it ended in a cliffhanger which made part 2 all the more exciting! First part was a bit over 2 hours, understand the two part thing now!!

So, with just under 3 hours to burn before part 2, being kinda tired from all my “legging it” and still kinda full from meatballs I had no desire to do anything overly useful, with a Starbucks right in front of me, seemed like a good option. Comfy seat, good coffee and power for my phone. Got two out of three! And some down time to blog. Somehow, probs due to the lunchtime carb overload I was kinda hungry again so was on the hunt for cheap n healthy, and close!! Once again, I somehow recalled the Grill’d I’d run past earlier and strolled on over. Have to say, while it turns out a low carb BBQ brisket burger (with bacon) and zucchini fries ain’t cheap or overly healthy, damn it was good!

And yet, still I had another hour to waste and more power needed, and not the football kind, they lost. So back to Starbucks to try my luck on an Almond latte, had been trying to get on the almond milk bandwagon unsuccessfully so far… and with a coupe of Splenda sugars in there, ain’t half bad!! Took the same seat, plugged in and hey look, there’s my water bottle I left last time! Good to see the Starbucks staff are diligent with their cleaning up! Don’t mind me, I’ll just blog away…

So in what was a pretty awesome day so far, my only conundrum was that with an iPhone 7, you can’t charge your phone AND listen to music at the same time as they use the same jack. Serious design flaw. But when that’s the worst thing to happen in your day, pretty bloody good!!

And back to the theatre for part 2… May have had a little stitch from climbing all the stairs with a belly full of everything, but wow, just wow. The effects were amazing, the story bloody brilliant and the whole thing, well, magical. Loved delving back into the world of Harry Potter. Surely they can make this story into a movie?? So many parts I loved but I had to solemnly swear to #keepthesecrets… just get yourself to the theatre and see if for yourself!!!

Wrapping up at the theatre at 10.30pm, I did have an invite to a friends gig in Clifton Hill but feeling exhausted from all that magic, I trammed it back to my Air bob and raided the hosts stash of Ferrero Rocher, she did say to help myself to anything?? But one Ferrero in and I’ve regretted not heading out. Could have done with some tunes and a couple of gins to round off an epic, massively enjoyable day!!!

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Keep calm, I’m a citizen…

Friday 14th June, 2019

Mmm, don’t you love those days where you wake up and there’s no urgent place to be, no one hassling you, no alarm interrupting the peace?? If you have kids you probs haven’t experienced this for a very long time, but this was my Friday… while everyone worked away, I slept in, woke to panda eyes and nothing and no one. Ok, now it’s getting a bit sad…

After the aforementioned sleep in, some sense of urgency kicked in and I wanted to be out and about, or was it just a stomach screaming for bacon?? On the recommendation of a good friend, I headed to Degraves St in the city – mastering these trams, even got off at the right stop, and paid for the trip this time…

Two things I love to do, I love to eat and I love to people watch, brunch on Degraves St was the best of both worlds! One of Melbourne’s bustling laneways with eateries smack bang down the middle for nosy people like me to sit back and watch, eat, and hoover coffee. Controversial, but is it possible Melbourne has better coffee than RADelaide??

People watching in Melbourne, love it because like London, they just don’t give a fuck. Sneakers with jeans, leggings as pants, wanky hairstyles and curled mustaches. They are who they are, good for them! I really should stop caring what people think about me. It was my New Years resolution after all, which probably destined it to fail… What I’m really noticing are couples holding hands. Maybe cos I’m a desperate single loser or maybe because I appreciate love. It’s refreshing, gives me hope that one day I’ll walk down a bustling lane way holding the hand of the person I love. It’s also confusing me that it’s 11am and it’s full of private school kids, that’s an epic amount of school fees going to waste… Geez I’m showing my age…

Oh my gob, check out my brekky omelette, is there anything better than the oily sheen of melted cheese and bacon?? Ok, maybe world peace but anyway… yummers…

So after divulging in two of my favourite loves, I google the crap out of what to do in Melbourne without spending any money. There’s an exhibition of Terracotta warriors at the National Art Gallery, my heart momentarily misses a beat, is it free??? Nope, just smart advertising, which I fall for and book a ticket for the next day… missed those dudes when I went to China… and now for free entertainment… street art, I’m in. And in a convenient twist of fate, the number 2 place in Melbourne is quite literally within eyeshot and the number 1 place 100m down the laneway, winning!!

Unfortunately the pesky business of well, being open for business means the street art on the roller doors down Centre Place isn’t overly visible, but still a kool kat laneway…

The 100m walk down the laneway to the number one place somehow ended up 500m for me, did I mention my serious lack of any sense of direction? My detour did take me past Federation Square, I still don’t get it.

Turn the corner into Hozier Lane and quite literally walk into people stopped taking pictures, my bad for looking at the walls instead of where I was going, sorry to the 5 Chinese tourists I just tripped over… but if you saw the sight, you’d understand why! An explosion of colour, personality, art and statements all over the walls. Now this is my kind of art gallery!!! Pictures really don’t do it justice, I’m sure the pictures on google are 100 times better but here are my faves, of course the Posty one being my absolute fave, now have a picture with the man himself… kinda…

Amongst all the colour, school kids and tourists, is one store that’s a teenage boys wet dream, Culture King. I don’t feel cool enough (or young enough) to go in but what the hell, not caring what people think right? 10 steps in and I fall in love… with a quilted black adidas jacket, I have a feeling this “free” street art adventure might be quite costly… I resisted the urge to drop a small fortune on love and exited stage left, not before making a note to google the jacket one line…

So the reason I came to Melbourne in the first place was to get my British citizenship, with the 2pm deadline on my mind, I knew it was one appointment I didn’t want to miss so I wandered around close to the British Consulate on Collins St… is it my fault that a pair of Tiger sneakers jumped onto my feet and the $$ out of my bank account?? I blame the consulate for being too close to shops… I may have already stalked the shoes online and planned to buy them as my European wandering shoes anyway… they are very cute, hiding those ugly feet…

So wandering up to the consulate, it hit me like a sledge hammer, I’d bloody forgot to bring the oath I’d printed out, now sitting securing in my backpack back at the St Kilda Air bob. Crapola. Hopefully they accept new age millennials that read the oath on their phone, and look mid to late 30’s… arriving at the consulate, which looks nothing like the commanding British embassy I had imagined, just a boring old office building, there’s signs on the door directing you to enter via the side Alley. Huh?? Am I at the right place? And then I see them, the “Free Julian Assange” protestors I’d blindly, and ignorantly just walked past. Am I really that consumed in my own world that I didn’t see them? There were police and everything!! Maybe I am more of a narcissist than I’d ever realised… while I’m sympathetic to their cause, I once again turn a blind eye and head down the side alley, funny how turning a blind eye when convenient seems to be done by most people these days, myself included. Maybe instead of not caring what people think, my New Years resolution should have been to advocate for something?? There is that age old saying after all, “if you don’t stand for something, you’ll fall for anything”… Citizenship, get your head in the game Holster, and there I am being a knob and referring to myself in the third person AGAIN!!

Pulling a sneaky and heading down the side alley I finally found my way to the small group of people waiting to bend the knee to the Queenie… and there amongst the group was a super prepared angel who’d printed multiple copies of the oath, god I love a perfectionist, always prepared, she even had a citizenship binder with all the forms and research! Let’s call her Angela.. Angela also had to fly in from Adelaide for the ceremony, however she did it the hard way and caught a red eye this morning and is back home tonight, apparently has kids that need watering or something… Angela was nice enough, passed the time chatting about her son’s desire to be a pilot, he’s 4. Kid knows what he wants to with with his life at 4 and I’m still trying to figure my shit out!!! I do wander how hard it would be to become a pilot, imagine if I could just fly myself everywhere, all over the world?!? Thanks Angela, you might be my angel in more ways than one… Finally, shrouded in security, ok, just one dude, we’re escorted upstairs, signed in, ID checked and taken to our ceremony destination. Hmmm, apart from the ridiculously gorgeous view over the city, it literally looks like a leftover office with a picture of the Queen on the wall and a British flag standing proud. Hmm, not all the pomp and ceremony I expected. The lady running the show, let’s call her Daniela, cos that’s her name, apologised for how basic the ceremony is, apparently they lack budget, she has a glorious Italian accent so she’s forgiven. Why an Italian is running a British ceremony is have no idea but play along. An overly informative dude, let’s call him Douche, informs Daniela that when you get your Australian Citizenship you get champagne and a Buffett. Shut up Douche, I’m on Daniela’s side, after all we’re probably related…

In what was scheduled as a 3 hour appointment in my calendar was literally done and dusted in half hour, with time to spare for the granny of Douche to tell us how when she got her Australian Citizenship in 1929, they just posted you the certificate in the mail. Geez bananas, how old are you Granny Douche?? So the ceremony itself literally requires you to stand up in front of everyone, recite the oath, sign a piece of paper then smile for a selfie with Queenie. Unlike the prepared Angela, I’d only glanced at the page with the oath, while the others were affirming their allegiance, I realised that there were two versions to choose from, one where you swear to the Almighty God, and another where you just swear, and not in my favorite F word kind of way. Dilemma, to swear to God or not?? I’ve been steadily on the fence regarding my beliefs in God for the last few years, I have questions that I can’t seem to find an answer to. But like when I’m at church and there’s the conundrum as to whether to take communion or not, I choose to be safe rather than sorry. Until I choose to say without question I don’t believe, I need to have faith. So in 15 seconds flat I’ve bent the knee, signed away my heritage and become a Brit. I surprisingly feel quite chauffed, so I break out the scones with jam and cream and ask the crowd if they fancy a cuppa??? Only joking, was proud, just not cool enough to pull that off, am tempted to speak in a British accent the rest of the day but that’d make me a knob right???

With an extra two and a half hours up my sleeve, I was curious. Curious as to whether I could leg it to the Princess Theatre and snag a ticket to the sold out Harry Potter and the Cursed Child the next day, I wonder…. in another stroke of luck, the theatre was only a 10 minute walk away, Melbourne is willing me to have a great time!! Arriving at the theatre and seeing all the Harry Potter paraphernalia, my heart yearned for a ticket. I’d checked for tickets online a second after my flights were booked but it was already sold out. In my search for tickets I read somewhere that if you’re lucky, you can snag a ticket at the theatre box office, the question was, are you feeling lucky, punk??

Lucky is apparently not my middle name… the lovely young lady at the box office had no tickets for sale but gave me the tip to come back one hour before the performance started to see if there were any available. Hmm, have to return at 1pm Saturday, lucky I’m a prepared Angela and booked my terracotta warrior ticket for 1pm tomorrow. Bananas. Seeing if I was in fact a punk, rang the National Art Gallery to see if I could change my ticket to an earlier session and what do ya know, lucky is my middle name! Booked in for 11am instead. Melbourne loves me.

With time on my side, I wandered the laneways and somehow (ok I know how) ended up at Bourke St mall, spot of shopping wouldn’t hurt right?? I had only bought one pair of shoes and it’s Melbourne after all. Lucky for me all the jeans in Zara were made for dwarfs (or fun size people if I’m being politically correct), pissing me off enough to give up on shopping, really hate shopping in person anyway, much prefer the excitement of buying online, opening the package full of hope, then it not fitting…

So back on the tram, got the number right, the direction wrong… take two and I’m going to the right direction back to St Kilda, and this time determined to get off at the right stop. Alas, I disembark a five minute walk from my Air bob and right in front of a kebab shop, yiros shop for those reading from Adelaide. Takeaway in hand, short stroll to the apartment and I’m in a very familiar situation, sitting on the couch eating dinner and watching You’re The Worst on telly… bad habits don’t die, even on holidays… feeling comfy and satisfied I contemplated for half, maybe one second, staying in rather then heading out again to a concert at The Esplanade Hotel. After that one second I slapped myself on the head and asked WTF? Live music by the beach, two of my favourite things, why wouldn’t ya? So with Silverchair cranking in my headphones, the albums of which have become my soundtrack for the weekend, I took a leisurely and kinda cold stroll through St Kilda, down the Esplanade, reminiscing about the last time I’d been at the Espy. Pretty sure I wasn’t even legal, after a footy match with my Dad and Blackie. No wait, I had been back but just didn’t remember much of it, oops. Last time I frequented St Kilda the hotel was shut for Reno’s, I’d heard about it all done up and hoped it hadn’t lost its old dive bar charm and turned into a hipster too cool for skool joint… I was half right. Still had some dive bar charm, but in a modern style that was looking all too familiar. Eh, still super cool and one of my favourite buildings in AUS. So the band that would be my entertainment for the night, Mansionair. How to describe their music?? Gets into your soul, epic vocals, floaty instrumentals, close your eyes and feel it. Not being able to find anything about set times, the ticket said 8pm. Not expecting any opening acts for a $30 ticket, I got to the Espy about quarter to 8 and headed to the Gershwin Room for the band. You know you’re a little early when the room looks like this…

Sooo, set list found. Support act at 9, main men at 10.15… hmmm, what to do at a pub to kill 2 hours… why hello gin!!!

Unfortunately the support act wasn’t my cup of tea but when Mansionair came on, uhh, the music made me happy. Live music, by the beach, with gin, happy place. Only one thing missing but that can’t be helped.

Have to say, while the music was magnificent, the crowd not so much. Didn’t make it through a single song without being pushed out the way by someone getting through, usually overly zealous young ones, drunk and trying to push to the front. You just don’t get this in Adelaide, once the music starts, people just stay put. It’s like an unwritten rule. No such rules in Melbourne, at least not to a sold out crowd at the Espy. Made what at moments was an epic experience, a really frustrating one. But anyway. The walk home was back into the Chair soundtrack, waking down the esplanade singing to Diorama, tomorrow will be a Frogstomp. Why hello Luna Park…

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Doin’ Melbs Han Solo

Thursday 13th June, 2019

So in the long winded process of getting my British Citizenship, which is a process of jumping through hoops if you’re born before 1983, latest hoop, going to Melbourne for the citizenship ceremony. Ok, shouldn’t complain, a weekend by myself just chilling in Melbourne, could be worse!!

In my never ending efforts to be a cheap skate, I booked tight arse Jetstar flight, knowing full well it’d probably be delayed, cancelled or just plain uncomfortable. And of course, they are stringent AF on their 7kg carry on so as a single female traveling to Melbourne for 3 nights… had to outsmart the 7kg limit.

Wanna hear my sneaky tips??? If not, then bugger off…

1. Most people save the best for last but this one is most important… wear pants and a jacket with pockets. Before the “weigh in”, pack those damn pockets! Mobile phone, earphones, makeup, gin, anything that fits in your pockets, shove it in there. Can save you at least 2kg!! Just make sure you’re not wearing those dumb arse women’s jeans with fake pockets…

2. This one’s the hardest, pick one pair of shoes and wear them. How you ask? Pick the comfy ones you can walk all day and party all night… these are mine… got my through 3 days at Splendour in the Grass, they can do Melbs…

3. Leave your purse at home. Get one of those nifty phone cases, shove your cards in there, do you really need the 100 cards and bullshit vouchers in your purse?? Probs not.

4. Pick a colour. Anyone that knows me, knows it’s go black or go home. Two pants, couple of tops all the same colour and can’t go wrong.

5. Reconsider pjs. Just wear your first days outfit to bed each night.

6. Pick one moisturizer. Another hard one. I indulge in moisturizer. One for day, one for night, one for the body, one for those special wrinkles. Grab your day one, does everything!! For reals.

7. If you’re going to Melbourne, make space for the umbrella. You know you’re gonna need it!! Kinda opposite to space saving but anyway…

So using my super duper tips, I clocked in at 5.6kg… space for shopping. Have a feeling that number of shoes may multiply, they are my Achilles heel, quite literally…

So in an absolute miracle, not only is my Jetstar flight on time, I bagged an aisle seat without dishing out $$ and arrived in Melbs as scheduled. Is someone messing with me??? This NEVER happens.

The thing I love about flying, time for nothing. Once you’re belted in, there is nothing else you HAVE to do. Sure there’s work that could happen, but usually no internet is a good excuse. No washing, cleaning, tearing down fences – nothing that you HAVE to do. God I love it. Used my god given time to get stuck into the book I’ve been hanging to read, The Book of Daniel, my teenage crush, the voice that shaped my teenage angst. Nope, not my first eyeliner wearing goth of a first BF, the one and only Daniel Johns from Silverchair. Reading through the beginnings of Tomorrow I’m taken back to those years of annoying my mum with the bass of Israel’s Son through to the years to my out of tone renditions of Miss You Love. Ok, right now, go listen to Israel’s Son from Frogstomp, Cemetery from Freak Show, Ana’s Song from Neon Ballroom, Across the Night from Diorama and Straight Lines from Young Modern and tell me they aren’t the most epic, amazing Aussie rock band of our lifetime. Note, Mum, don’t do that. I already know what you think!! Reminiscing is interrupted by the jolted landing of the magnificent Jetstar pilot, good to see some things never change…

The plane door opens and I giggle to myself, umbrella in hand and ready for action. Jetstar in their classy as always drop you smack back in the middle of a runway (kinda) and you always have to leg it to the terminal. Melbourne’s welcome of torrential rain made all those Jetstar cheapies kick themselves, except the Holster with her handy umbrella, hey maybe I’m learning something with all this travel. And maybe I’m a knob for referring to myself in the third person…

So in all my backpatting for remembering an umbrella I completely missed the fact that the Skybus was done for the day heading to St Kilda, my Airbnb destination. Ugh. Holster you knob x 2. So jumping on the Skybus to the city, I was feeling all London inspired with the double decker that appeared out of the haze of rain… when did double deckers happen in Melbourne?!? Anyways, having learnt from London, best seat, top floor and front row. View of the sites, when it’s not raining and look down over those weeney cars, when it’s not raining.

So if you haven’t figured it out by now, I have a terrible sense of direction. Ask Kylie, got her lost in Venice for 3 hours. That was fun. Also meant I got off the St Kilda tram 4 stops early and legged it for half hour through the rain to my Airbnb, or Air bob if you ask an iPhone. Kinda regretting that one pair of shoes cos these babies are well and truly wet. Don’t listen to my tips, I’m full of shit.

Through the rain and my soggy stomping, I did spy on Grey St the most magnificent apartment building, can I live here please??

So after a quick Coles stop to grab some salami for dinner, yeah I do that, finally made it to my Air bob. May have tried to open the neighbours door for about half hour but they didn’t seem to mind… A cosy little unit in St Kilda, perfect if not for the party going on upstairs, pretty sure there’s 10 elephants jumping up and down to some kind of satanic beat… at least there’s all the Netflix in the world to drown them out… bedtime and no alarm set, let’s see how this plays out…

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