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Oh Sahara! (Morocco day 7 & 8)

Friday 4th October – Saturday 5th October 2019

Today was the day I knew I’d be pinching myself a million times over, today we were going to the Sahara desert. The bloody Sahara!!!!! Never thought in this lifetime I’d be lucky enough to see the Sahara, something I’d heard of as a child but never thought I’d see for reals. Feel like I need to break into a chorus of thanks to all the people who have given me this wonderful life but they know who they are and hopefully I have thanked them enough! In case I haven’t, THANK YOU!!

Usually a BOTB call for 6.45am would fill me with dread but when you’re Sahara bound, pretty sure I bounced out of bed. Or just wasn’t as grumpy as I usually am!! Brekkie, packed and BOTB to a gorgeous sunrise that unfortunately doesn’t look as pretty out of the window of a bus!

Being desert bound, as expected the countryside got a little less green and a bit more, well, deserty but by gosh, still as beautiful as ever. To keep us entertained, it was once again Abdul the legend up for the act. Now I can’t exactly pinpoint when he became a legend, it was the little things he did like learning our names, his dad jokes, his funny laugh and his Yallah, but mostly it was his passion and love for his country. Having a tour guide who takes pride in showing you his homeland makes a tour one thousand times more enjoyable!! Anyhoo, our first stop on our looooong trip to the desert was a little village that looked like it belonged in Switzerland, not Morocco! A little alpine village that served as Morocco’s ski resort. Yeah I had that screwed up confused face too, Morocco has ski resorts???? Turns out to get to the Sahara you gotta go over the Atlas Mountains and not just one set, gotta go over the Mid Atlas Mountains and the High Atlas Mountains, I guess they couldn’t think of more imaginative names for them?? So our stop in Ifrane, the mountain village introduced us to something new in Morocco, the cold!!! Having been over heated most the trip it was nice to feel the cold mountain air, for about 5 minutes til I was over it and ready for the cosy warm bus again. Explains the lack of pictures…

Quickly BOTB and we quickly left Switzerland behind and was back in desert looking Morocco. Then out of nowhere, the hills started to have Arabic writing on them. Like big enough that if I read Arabic I’d know what it said. I’m still confused how the hell they do that. Abdul explained they did it with wheat but please tell me more, how do they get the letters so big? How do they mark it out? How do they get it so perfect??? If I wasn’t on a plane i’d google it and tell ya…

The legend explained the writing says “God, motherland and King”, very patriotic. Not a message from the aliens as I was starting to think! More gorgeous countryside and it was time for another pit stop. Just a petrol station, no Switzerland this time. They did however have a range of treats not found in the land of kangaroos, like ketchup pepitas and some weird arse flavour of Monster energy drink. Neither were good. Now I mentioned the trip to the desert was long and while I can’t recall how many hours, something like 7 sounds about right. Luckily Morocco has plenty to keep us entertained along the way. Like this pretty dam just in the middle of nowhere, being as beautiful as ever.

And this massive army base just spouting out of the desert again in the middle of nowhere. Maybe it’s where they keep the aliens??

Then my personal favourite, pulling up into a valley of palm trees. The location on my picture says Aoufous, so let’s go with that. This time we managed to get Abdul to star in and join us for a few snaps, gotta put a face to the legendary, wait for it… Abdul. Also managed to have some fun ourselves. Most fun was still had by Abdul who managed to get a piggy back from Aleesha back to the bus!!

At this stage, it was only just hitting lunch time, although somehow we were already three meals in?!? Our lunch stop at a cafe by a pool was lovely and all but we were all just getting antsy for the desert. Sahara where are you already?? I know good things come to those that wait but I’m not well known for my patience!! Finally, Abdul announced that we are close to our hotel that’s rated 1,000 stars. Yeah that’s code for sleeping outside! I was expecting tents pitched, sleeping on the floor, being kinda cold and uncomfortable but being ok with that because it was the bloody Sahara!!! Boy were we all surprised to get to the place where we were “camping”. Air conditioned main lobby, beautiful gardens, pool, WiFi and most importantly, real beds!!! We were glamping to say the least! Proper rooms with walls, they may not have been out of brick but there were walls and doors and real bathrooms and showers. To say that we were all relieved is an understatement!!

Unloading into our “tents” it was a quick change of clothes to ready ourselves for our Sahara camel trek. Yeah I could hardly believe I was doing that either!! In the hotel lobby Abdul and his cohorts helped us wrap our scarfs into turbans then it was out the back of the hotel to meet our rides.

Upon getting to “camp” we’d had a glimpse of the dunes but it wasn’t until we met our camels that the absolute gloriousness of the Sahara desert was upon us. Massive dunes and a blue sky that contrasted with the red sand so beautifully that we were speechless. Well, we were, the camels not so much. They like to chat!! I hadn’t ridden a camel for a while, not sure I can even recall when I last did, only to know that I have and the getting up and down is quite the carnival ride. Kyles of course in her perfect desert outfit did it with grace, I may have yelped…

Now some how I was lucky enough to be at the front of our camel line, if that’s what it’s called, so I could take in all the glory of the Sahara. I really can’t explain in words how beautiful it is only to say you could not wipe the smile off my face and every second was a pinch me moment that I could hardly believe I was lucky enough to behold. Beautiful, glorious, amazing, stunning, wonderful, not enough words to describe.

After trotting along for about an hourish, being quite comfortable I might add, we stopped at our destination to watch the sunset. I thanked Marlboro for lugging me along, couldn’t have been easy!!

Remember the gorgeous sand dunes I mentioned earlier?? The top of one of those was where we could watch the sunset. My unfit meatball body was not ready for the hike up the sand dunes, the worst torture imaginable on unconditioned thighs but like hell I was going to miss watching the sunset over the Sahara!! And by god, running up Everest would have been worth it for these views!

I think you can agree that the desert is so stunning that I’m forgiven for the ridiculous amount of selfies! It was a once in a lifetime (but hopefully not!) experience so there is no way I don’t want all the pictures as memories for when I’m old n grey and in my rocking chair. After having indulged in all the selfies and pics to last a lifetime, while also taking time out to appreciate the sunset and miraculous place we were so lucky enough to be, there was the getting down to deal with. Some chose just to take their chance and run, those of us with shonky knees chose the slow and sturdy way!! Ads was one of the fast arse ones with his Spider-Man legs which meant he was able take a shot of us snails on the way down, there we are!!!

BOM (got that one mum??) and we meandered back to camp as the sun sank into the dunes and the stars came out to delight us. Hands down that was one of the most amazing and memorable experiences of my life. Pretty sure that when life goes to shit in the future, I’ll be able to think of that afternoon in the Sahara and smile like there’s no tomorrow. Still can’t believe I got to do that and once again am grateful to those that helped me find my way to the Sahara!

Back at camp we were all high on the afternoon’s adventures (not the hash), the chatter and laughter amongst the group was infectious. But it was dinner time. After a day eating like a hobbit, I wasn’t overly hungry but the smorgasbord of food meant that of course I ate. I’m Italian, I was born to eat. Also English and born to whinge in case you hadn’t noticed!! Anyway, the yummy food of more than just tagine thank goodness was washed down with gin along with a side of gin… we were all getting into the party mood that night so when the drums around the camp fire started, we were our own tribe dancing around and laughing. I remember a lot of laughing that night, it’ll defs go down as one of the best nights of my life.

Once the band finished up, or escaped, not sure which, we were up to our own devices for entertainment. Of course I had a go on the drums, sounded like crap but who cares, fun is fun!!

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All danced out we gathered around to chill and reminisce. Which lasted about 5 minutes before a game of never have I ever started. There may have also been some hash from Chefs going around but what happens on tour stays on tour. Ask me no questions I tell no lies.

The next morning was heaven sent, not only did we have the most memorable previous day but we weren’t required to be human until 10am. For those who over drank, over danced and may have had a little chucky, the late start was a gift. Which literally only lasted until 10am cos then it was into our jeeps for a desert safari. Over hills fast and around quick corners all in sand is exactly what the doctor ordered after a big night…

But somehow the desert air cured all hangovers and at our pit stop in the middle of the Sahara, we were all smiles and once again in amazement at the beauty of the desert.

Special mention to Connor, Amy’s husband and half of the American travel blogging couple who went above and beyond to get the most epic photo. Here’s a video of how and the final pic I stole from their blog!!

Back in our landcruisers, cos they aren’t the same as jeeps, we trekked through the Sahara to a nomad village, one that allows tourists. This family lives on the plains of the Sahara, trekking to the closest town once a week for supplies, but otherwise self sufficient, building their oven in the earth, keeping animals for milk and probs dinner, no electricity and using what the great earth provides them. Now whether these guys actually did all that or were just set up for us tourists, who knows but it sure looked authentic!!!

After having some time to wander around the nomads living area, we gathered in a large tent for Abdul to show us how they make Moroccan tea. All the other places we’d had tea cheated and used a kettle. Here they boiled the water, let it stew, then reboiled and strained it, I think… geez bananas I don’t really remember and I couldn’t take notes while sitting crossed legged in a tent, I’m not like other women, I’m not good at multi tasking. We all got a taste and it was nice but in all honesty, I’ll stick to my western coffee, never have been much of a tea drinker. Back in our cruisers through the desert to our next stop at a renowned musical band. I remember Abdul explained they were quite well known but can’t recall how or why. Of course they got our hips shaking again and the abundance of my chebs meant I was pulled up again to dance, but managed to escape back to my seat to watch the others get into the groove!!

As good as the music was, it was damn hot in the room and not all of us were appreciative of symbols clashing and drums beating given the night we’d had!! I think Abdul got the message and herded us back into our cruisers heading back to camp. Of course it wasn’t just a normal drive back to camp, once again through dunes, past loads of camels and around desert hotels that seemed to spring out of nowhere!!

Back at the hotel and finally, after two non starters, it was pool time. Yes my bathes were overly revealing and I wore a gym top over them but who cares when you’re in cool waters in the middle of the desert. Probs would have jumped in with my pjs on if I had to. And with ice cold beers delivered into our hands while in the pool, it was the place of dreams. Ok I may be over exaggerating but after a hot day cruising the desert, it was pretty damn good. I think we stayed in until our hands and feet looked like 100 year olds then had a quick shower and back into the dunes to watch the sunset over the beautiful Sahara. While waiting for the sun to go down in all its glory, the amazing Emma got her sand surfing skills on, there were drinks and group pics and all the laughing!! Such an awesome group to hang out with!

Another dinner and more dancing around the fire, although not as epic as the night before, bit more low key but still awesome fun all the same!! With an earlyish bedtime, I laid in bed being grateful to be in one of the most beautiful places on earth with such an amazing group of people, it really did feel like a dream. Still does when I think back on it.

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Roots

Friday 20th – Sunday 22nd September 2019

Despite my smell the Geordie gave me a warm welcome in Newcastle, I mean the toon. Forgot they speak a different language and damn it, left my Geordie dictionary in oz.

If the Geordie was expecting a fun night out with Matilda he was a bit disappointed! I was rooted so room service and the first five minutes of the movie Dark Phoenix and I was out like a light.

Lucky for me, my Geordie friend, who has been mentioned before under many names, Pattie, Nora and possibly his real name David, is a good bloke and organized a weekend showing me my roots around England. The first stop was Askrigg where my Dad’s mum, otherwise known as Grandma, had family originate. The family also happened to be none other than those of the Terry’s Chocolates fame. Knew I had chocolate in my blood, explains a lot. I was kinda glad when the GPS of Nora’s Vauxhall, a kick arse car I’d never heard of, thought Vauxhall was just a tube station, anyway, GPS took us the scenic route into Askrigg, tiny tiny roads and gorgeous little villages. Nice for me who got to ooo and ahh at the pretty scenery, not so much for the Geordie who had to drive in a road big enough for one car, just, no idea what people do when someone comes the other way?? Driving into Askrigg poor Pattie had to deal with my millions of photos a minute habit but managed to navigate us to the town centre where I could jump out and explore. Such a weird feeling being somewhere you know your distant relatives walked the streets, drank at the pub, lived their lives. Really does make me want to go back and trace my grandma’s family history, ancestry.com here I come! After a pit stop at the pub of course…

BITC (hehe, that’s almost naughty but sure you have it figured out Mum), and we headed to Scarborough, a seaside town in Yorkshire where my Mum’s mum, the other grandma, went to boarding school. The English countryside really is gorgeous, different to Scotland but pretty rather than rough and rugged, and felt different listening to a soundtrack of Elvis and AC/DC rather than my hip hop and Aussie indie rock. Not complaining, love them too! The Geordie’s playlist of movie theme songs made me realize my head really was full, things were just popping out, like names of songs I knew but just didn’t know anymore. So is this what old age feels like???

Anyways, driving into Scarborough Nora had to put up with my ooos and aaahs again, especially when we rocked up at the hotel, a stunning old building right on the beach. Davie did good.

While the inside was something of a rabbits warren, I would have been jealous had we been staying anywhere else. It just so happpened that we’d made it to Scarborough in time for the Geordie to watch the soccer, sorry I mean football (I really mean soccer!), his Newcastle boys were playing a team that was gonna whip their arses apparently. Leaving the Geordie at the local I headed right for the beach, oh how I’d missed the ocean. Corfu felt like months ago!!

Scarborough was so not what I expected! Yes the beach I knew was there, but the Ferris wheel and cliffs and esplanade with casinos I had no idea. Very cool surprise!

What wasn’t a surprise was returning to the Geordie at the pub to find a goalless game… I get how skilled the dudes are that play but no score in 90 minutes?!? I need more action in my sport. A few beers in and the Geordie was ready for karaoke. For the record, I will never ever be ready for karaoke. For a dude with a thick accent I can hardly understand, he does a bloody good Elvis! Some McDonalds later and we called it a night, there may have been quite a few gins and beers between the Maccas and night but anyway…

Up and at it on Sunday, I don’t know if I was more excited about the bacon at the buffet breakfast or seeing more of Scarborough. Can we just say equally excited??? BITC and hooning around Scarborough we found the convent my grandma went to school at, THE most beautiful church and cemetery on cliffs overlooking the ocean and a fort. Winning!!!

On our trek back to the toon, we stopped off at the other beachside vacation town of Whitby, conveniently minutes before England and Tonga kicked off at the Rugby World Cup! No complaining from me, getting chauffeured around England to all the places my family are from, dude can stop for as many games as he wants! But once again, did leave Nora at the pub while I explored the gorgeous Whitby. What a picturesque town, a seaside village with ruins of a castle on the hill (no time to trek to) but did make it to the lighthouses for gorgeous views over the cliffs, ocean and back into then the town. Surely this is more interesting and beautiful than rugby reet?? I mean there’s even a replica of the Endeavour, how does anything compete with that???

At least this time when I found the Geordie it was good news, the English were winning, which given that that it was now my other homeland, I was kinda happy about too. I think I’m finally getting the gist of rugby, and might actually know the difference between league and union, union is the one with the scrums right?? If I’m not going to have AFL on the regular for the next year, I reckon rugby is gonna be my game. Exciting, tough dudes and there’s no way they can go a whole game without scoring points! Ok, I’m on the rugby band wagon, but now the question is, who do I support in the World Cup?? Australia, England or Scotland? I think I’ll keep that answer to myself as it may get me into trouble!

BITC and feck, my train leaves in 2 hours and we’re 1 hour and 45 minutes away from Newcastle. Nora didn’t seem all that bothered, gave me some reassuring words in Geordie that I couldn’t even repeat if I tried… well actually, I did try a lot that weekend to speak Geordie but like all my accents, just kept coming out Jamaican! On the leg back to Newcastle, or maybe it was before, at some stage there was the discussion that I’d keep thinking about for days, and change my answer multiple times. So if you could go to the concert of three bands or singers no longer together or alive, who would they be?? It’s harder than you think!! After lots of back and forth, Nora and I both agreed that Queen and Elvis were on the list, his third was Sinatra and mine was The Beatles. Bloody hard cos that means other epic bands and singers like David Bowie, Jeff Buckley, Janis Joplin, and Amy Winehouse don’t make the list. And since we were on the topic, next question was what three people that have passed would you love to have dinner with? Not necessarily all at the same time… I think the question may have changed part way through cos the Geordie picked Nelson Mandela, Martin Luther King and the Dalai Lama, who obvs is still with us – my picks were Princess Diana, Mary Queen of Scots and Hitler. I know the last choice is controversial but as a psychology student, meeting someone like him that did so many horrid things, a conversation about values and morals would be out of this world, how he’d justify the atrocities he committed would be an interesting conversation. As would the conversation with all our other choices of course. In hindsight the dead people conversation may have just been a tactic to distract me from how close we were cutting it with time, it worked. At the station it was a quick good bye to the Geordie and I literally had 8 minutes to get into the station, find my platform and get onto the train. I made it in 5…. how I have no idea, a cross between running and shimmying through the crowd with a backpack, handbag and bag of other crap, mostly gin. Back in London, it did kinda feel like coming home. Mind you as someone that doesn’t technically live anywhere, wherever the roof is over my head is my home. But it’d only be home for one night, I’d booked a sneaky trip to Pisa and Florence the next day…

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Scotland lovin’

Tuesday 17th – Friday 20th September 2019

After 5 days of early wake ups for the bus, ok well 7am isn’t that early but early for me, I finally had a lay in and enjoyed every bloody second. I was exhuasted from the 5 days of eat, drink, selfie, BOTB, repeat… Today was going to be a chill day with my awesome friend Suz who was from Adelaide now, but Scottish and had lived in Edinburgh so getting an insiders view.

Casually strolling to brunch, an Adelaide institution I’ve sorely missed, I finally found a peaky to fit my head. I have an abnormally big head if you hadn’t noticed! And I’m sure a peaky has a proper name but now that Peaky Blinders is a smash hit, the hat they all wear is called a peaky by the Netflix addicted generation. Still not sure what I mean, check this one out:

Seeing the beautiful smiling face of Suz made my day! With all my adventures I’ve hardly been still long enough to miss Adelaide but seeing a friend that I’ve known forever gave me a rush of longing for my Adelaide life. I squashed the longing with a bloody mary and more haggis goodness with some avo thrown in for good measure. With full bellies we decided to take a leisurely stroll up to Arthur’s Seat, the highest peak in Edinburgh, didn’t look that high and the walking trail info said it was a relatively easy walk. Whoever wrote that lied… Sure neither of us were dressed for hiking and we were full up of bloody mary’s and avo but still, waaaay harder than Google let on but definitely worth it for the views over my most favourite city in the world. Being the thinkers we are, or possibility the drinkers we are, we came up with a brilliant business idea, a Prosecco and coffee cart at the top of Arthur’s Seat. Yes there was a little something of a logistics problem but after that hike I probs would have paid $30 for a Prosecco, oh wait, that’s what I’m paying on a normal day, damn exchange rates…

Well and truly having earnt a cocktail or three, Suz took me to “the” spot in Edinburgh for cocktails, the balcony of Harvey Nichols, the department store the next step up from David Jones. Sure the cocktails were £20 each, roughly equates to $40 Aussie but you only live once…

Having been a local for so many years, Suz’s cocktail tour of the best spots in Edinburgh was in full swing, we stopped off at a gorgeous building with a dome, not even Google can help me with the name, then onto a speak easy called Panda and Sons, that was beyond cool, hidden in a barber shop down some stairs and behind a bookcase, Edinburgh has it all!!

The bar staff in Panda and Sons were super friendly and gave us some dinner recommendations, we ended up at a Mexican tapas bar for tacos and margaritas. Now I’m pretty sure the food was amazing and it wasn’t the cocktails talking but I can’t be sure… with time for one more round (ok maybe two) we found a back alley bar that felt like a Peel St in Adelaide local and enjoyed our last hurrah before Suz was onto the bus and back to her digs an hour or so away. It was one of those days that just makes you smile when you think about it and just made me fall in love with Edinburgh even more.

It was enthusiastic motivated Holly that booked the 6.30am train to Inverness the next morning, not the hungover realistic version. But after the 4 hour trek with WiFi I’d hunted down the best coffee and bacon in all of Inverness and made it my first stop. Called Coyote coffee for no idea why, pretty sure there aren’t coyotes in all of Scotland but who cares when there’s bacon. It lived up to the hype and served a brekkie photoworthy and most importantly yummo!! And true to form (well, that’s what the review said) the gentleman running the coffee shop was up for a chat and gave me some good recommendations for an old school bookshop down the road next to a church with a cemetery that had graves from those that fought in Culloden, top bloke!

After a quick bag drop at the Air BNB I was free to stroll around Inverness at my own pace, with no BOTB or time limits, did miss my peeps Peta and Robert though! While not the Inverness from Outlander, the disappointment of that revelation was long gone as I strolled through a gorgeous city of quaint houses, stunning churches, a beautiful war memorial and of course my fave, a castle!!

It was however the quote on the gravestone at the war memorial that stuck a chord with me:

“For your tomorrow we gave our today”

Really did bring a tear to my eye and take me back to Culloden, maybe if I believed in the cause that much I would have stood side by side with the highlanders, maybe if I’d been born in Scotland…

Wandering around Inverness, it’s one beautiful building after another, then there was this:

Pretty in its own way but just kinda stood out like a sore thumb to me. Especially when you compare it to the stunning Cathedral just up the road…

What did make me smile was all the chimneys, the obsession continues…

Finally making my way to the bookshop recommended by the Coyote dude, I walked through the doors and stepped back in time… even more if possible, Inverness already felt like a different age. Leaky’s bookshop was adorable? Not sure that’s the word, cute?? Actually reminded me of the bookshop on Never Ending Story, or was that the school library???

As promised, next door was another stunning church, and I don’t say another to be blasé , I say another in amazement. The cemetery and church were… I feel like I’m running out of words, I’ve already said gorgeous and stunning a million times, but they really were. Headstones dating back hundreds of years, the church had a beautiful heeby jeeby feeling, like it’d seen a hell of a lot in its time.

With the 5 something wake up call catching up with me, I headed back to the Air BNB for check in and once again stepped back in time… my room was from the 60’s, wall paper even on the ceiling, not complaining, I found it sweet, pretty sure I’d find a jail cell in Scotland sweet… but let’s not test that theory… I did manage to be useful and do a load of laundry at the local laundromat which was an experience in itself, but besides that I was completely useless the rest of the night. Maybe I needed it, especially given the gravitas of the next day…

The Thursday was all about Culloden. On my last visit I knew I’d be returning so saved the immersive visitor center experience for when I had all the time in the world to read and probs cry a little. Maybe there is something to that saying about the early bird and the worm because getting there earlyish meant not too many pesky tourists I refuse to be one of. The setup of the visitor center is smart, the British timeline of events down the left in red, the Scottish down the right in blue, this time you really did get both sides of the story, unlike my skewed version of Culloden. Dan the bus driver Man had told us a pretty damn good tale about Culloden, covering off all the important stuff. But I’m a nerd and love getting all the information I can about something, although I think I’m running out of space in my head… One thing that didn’t change in all my reading was my opinion of Bonnie Prince Charlie, still not a fan especially given that after everyone’s efforts to hide him from the British after the battle, with the infamous Flora MacDonald smuggling him out of Scotland by dressing him as a woman and passing him off as her handmaiden, people took risks for him and he rewarded them by returning to Rome and spending the rest of his life being a drunk and sooking about his defeat. Compare him to someone like William Wallace and he comes up very short in the balls department!

The main attraction of the visitor center is the immersive experience. I’d heard from Kyles how intense it was so thought I was prepared, not so much. You stand in a room with each wall a massive screen and before you know it, you’re right in the middle of the Culloden battlefield, with the British firing on the left and the highlanders charging on the right, brave men falling in the slaughter right in front of you. There’s a reason kids aren’t allowed in, so bloody realistic, intense is an understatement. Pretty sure I held my breathe the whole time.

Reading about what happened to the Scottish after Culloden was heart breaking. People even suspected of being a Jacobite were slaughtered, no questions asked. The Scottish folk were forbidden to wear tartan, speak Gaelic or play the bag pipes. Pretty much stripped of their culture, people even changed their names, removing the Mac part so as to not be suspected of being a Jacobite. I hate to say it but the British were ruthless, barbaric even. Historically they have slaughtered so many people and stripped them of their culture, all across the world. All in the name of religion, for the King, for ego. I get it’s the way of the world and many others did the same, the Romans, the Spanish, it was how things were done. In today’s world of media and constant scrutiny, people are being held accountable, which is a good thing but there are still certain politicians and leaders in the world being complete knobs.

Emerging from the visitor center overwhelmed it was good to take some time on the roof walk to find some stillness and let my brain catch up. The views over the battlefield showed why amongst all the rugged mountains and valleys of Scotland, this flat plain was the place the battle had to take place. The purple heather that covered the fields gave it a breath taking beauty that didn’t seem to be akin with the blood shed that had taken place. After a wander around I found solace in one of my favourite things in the world, hairy coos. Although they kept running away from me, my favourite things leaving, story of my life!

Having spent the morning with battles on the brain I kept the theme going and trekked out to Fort George, finally a place with fort in the name that actually has a fort!!! The walk from the bus to the fort along the shore of a loch, or maybe the ocean, was a welcome breathe of fresh air. And when you’re trekking towards an awesome fort on the horizon, there’s an extra bounce in the step. Now this is a bloody fort!!!!!

After being all forted out I made the trek back to Inverness, did a final wander around the city then called it a night cos annoying Holly last week booked another 6.30am train back to Edinburgh.

Ok so I wasn’t a fan of the early start but it did mean I had another half day in Edinburgh so went through my must do list for the gorgeous city. Still so much to see and do but the one I wanted the most was the botanic gardens. While I can hardly keep a cactus alive, I do appreciate a beautiful garden. After stowing my bag I legged it to the botanic garden. And by legged it I mean walked 40 minutes in over 30 degree heat up hills and around in circles cos we all know how good I am with a map. Did find a few places I thought could be my future home though…

After putting down a rather large coffee I literally got lost in the botanic Gardens, but what better place to get lost in aye?

Although wandering around a garden is delightful, anyone that knows me knows I’m a hot person, and not in the good looking way! I overheat ridiculously quick so after the mornings legging it to the garden and back into the main part of Edinburgh I was ready to just chill, quite literally, I went into Sainsbury’s and stood in front of the fridge! And since I was there, picked up a gin or two then went and sat on the grass in the square and did one of my favourite hobbies, people watching!

May have watched a little too intently because before I knew it I was running late for the train and had to run between the baggage stow and train, picking up gin, whiskey and shortbread on the way as presents for the people who were taking care of me. Felt so so sorry for the person sitting next to me on the train, I did not smell good. Was also feeling sorry for the Geordie waiting for me in Newcastle, he may wanna rethink the hello hug…

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Love it a loch

Sunday 15th September 2019

Oh thank you Skye for stopping with the sideways rain and showing us your beauty!! Too bad the gurgling in our stomachs from the lumpy cup of goodness was interrupting the pretty! BOTB for pickups and we ventured out to the middle of whoop whoop to pick up Robert from his BNB and I got why the taxi driver the other night was grumpy AF, but the middle of whoop whoop in Skye is bloody gorgeous, yeah Skye, you got me. Maybe my first girl can be Aurora Skye… you’d have to go all the way back to my travels to Finland to work that one out!!

Before leaving the gorgeous Skye, Dan the photo op Man made a few stops for pics so we could actually have evidence of being in Skye. Once again, beyond gorgeous scenery and Saucy Mary’s which I wish I’d visited. Just makes me smile when I think about how much I love Scotland. I have a UK passport so that kinda makes me Scottish right???

Over the bridge from Skye this time, Dan the sneaky Man didn’t mention the bridge option when herding us onto the Titanic the other day!?! Next stop was the most photographed castle in Scotland, Eilean Donan, we were about the add to that photograph tally… A quick stop for sweeping views of the castle and a million more clicks, it really is stunning and not a single picture I’ve taken even comes close to showing it’s real beauty!! Maybe google it, I’m sure you’ll find better pics!!

Bussing it over to the castle and somehow it is even more stunning. The castle is majestic and while I usually like them in ruins, this is definitely an exception! Wandering over the bridge, or maybe it was a moat?!? Anyhoo, in front of us were a bride and groom, what a place for wedding photos!! You might have noticed I was wearing long sleeves and a puffer jacket so spare a thought for this gorgeous bride, freezing for a cause!!

Into the castle and wow, views for ever over the loch and mountains, the old castle masonry, little windy staircases and gorgeous windows over looking the beautiful beautiful Scotland. I’ve changed my mind, I’m hiding from Dan the bus driver Man at Eilean Donan, so many little nooks to hide in, I’m sure no one would notice…

Leaving it to the very last minute to get BOTB, I was still testing out whether Dan the hopefully nice Man would leave anyone behind because been there and seen that!! He waited, bless, mainly because more than half the bus were a few minutes late back, you could spend hours at the castle so time quickly slips away. Maybe if I meet my Scottish Prince Charming I could get married at Eilean Donan too?? Or I could just marry a highland cow, probs more likely to find one that likes me!!

BOTB and Robert just casually mentioned that his friends who are also traveling through Scotland happened to run into some guy called Sam Heughan, was that the Outlander dude I’d been going on about?? He’d been at Culloden the previous day and was at Clava Cairn, both places we were going the next day!!! My golly was I a happy Holly!! I’d been going on about meeting my very own Jamie and now I had a chance to meet the real Jamie Fraser himself… mix of excitement and disbelief. Yeah I’m fangirling cos he’s one good looking dude and on one of my favourite shows but also because he’s one of those amazing human beings that works his arse off to support charities and use his fame to make a difference in the world. I admire those people. Anyways, fingers crossed I might find the real Jamie this trip, but really don’t think I’m that lucky…

Bless Dan the google Man who was trying to once again give us some tidbits of info about Scotland, my mind was still all about the Jamie!! He said something about beavers being reintroduced to Scotland, dams having holes, beavers take holes as an insult and filling them… did not make sense, my mind was still Jamie inclined. Points for trying Dan but the news of Jamie had spread to every female on the bus who was now either fangirling as much as me or getting a run down from the Outlander die hards on why they should be!!!

Maybe Dan the disappinted Man noticed he’d lost his crowd, or maybe it was planned, who knows but not too long after the Jamie revelation and beaver story we rocked up at the River Moriston waterfalls. A little trek down the road and we came across one of the best things I’ve ever seen in my life… a dog sitting in a chair just like a human being, just casually checking us out and wondering what all the fuss was about. So so bloody brilliant, that’s one hell of a guard dog!

Waterfalls beckoned so we left our new favorite dog alone to ponder his celebrity and headed through the forest to the waterfalls. Scotland really does have everything, mountains, lochs, waterfalls, forests, beaches and Jamie. Scotland is perfect. The waterfalls just added to this perfection.

Wandering back through the forest I came across myself, a native Holly bush. I knew I belonged here!!

Unfortunately our guard dog was sick of the paparazzi and had gone elsewhere, so it was just BOTB and onto our lunch stop at Drumnadrochit. I’d already decided this was the day I’d indulge in the infamous haggis supper. Deep fried haggis and chips, and yummers, I was not disappointed, and Robert was hella impressed with my new found love of haggis!

With only a short lunch break it was BOTB and through some beautiful hills, apparently hills and mountains have different names in Scotland depending on how high they are, it’ll go from a hill to a mountain at a certain height but in all honesty I was so blissfully haggised out I didn’t pay much attention to Dan the mountain Man. When he sushed down I cranked my tunes and what do ya know, my fave the Hilltop Hoods blasted, seemed appropriate so I did my nasty hip hop dance moves in my seat and snapped away at the beautiful scenery passing by in front of me. What the hell was in that haggis??

On our way to Loch Ness where every Man and his dog knows is the home of Nessy, the infamous monster, Dan the monster Man chatted more and this time it peaked my interest, love conspiracy theories about the Loch Ness monster!! First some basics, if you took all of the water from the lochs and lakes across the UK, it still wouldn’t fill Loch Ness, it’s a biggie. And now onto the good stuff, apparently a couple were travelling the road by Loch Ness and crashed their car into a tree, they claimed to the cops that a creature slithered out in front of them and into the Loch and so started the tale of the Loch Ness monster. Needless to say they didn’t do a breatho, good story bro!! But there is that one picture right?? Yeah, apparently it’s been proven it’s a fake, guess I won’t be getting that reward for finding the monster… Rocking up to where we would jump on board our cruise on the loch, I met the most gorgeous, sweetest thing ever… a baby hairy coo!!! Too cute for words, when I’m back in Adelaide one day I’ll be getting me a hairy coo and a border collie as pets, they can be besties, maybe I’ll get a kitty kat too…

At the visitor center for our cruise I stumbled across a fridge full of cider from Roberts home town of Durham, would have been rude not to partake…

Finally bundled onto the cruise and set off on the loch, 5 minutes in we hear the skipper over the speaker, he sounded like he’d just taken a big suck of helium and so started the giggles from the lot of us… no idea what he said, I’m sure it was important. Next up to take the speaker reins was an older chap who bless, had a tough crowd. When we turned the corner and he pointed out Boner Lighthouse there was no stopping us, tears and sore stomachs from laughing so much. Not just at the name but his descriptions of it “coming up around the corner” and so forth… ok, so maybe the highland hot chocolate and the gins from the bar we just happened to sit right next to had something to do with it. Nah, actually that dude was just a barrel of laughs especially cos he wasn’t even trying! Note, for those playing at home, a highland hot chocolate is not for the little tackers, has a shot of whiskey…

We calmed down for a couple of minutes to get some beautiful shots of the loch and enjoy the tranquil setting. Didn’t last that long because old man was back to his best, “the water of Loch Ness looks cold and dark, because it is cold and dark…”. Maybe you had to be there…

Having piped down somewhat, the cruise pulled up to Urqhart Castle and by god we were being spoilt with castles that day, in my element! Unlike Eilean Donan, Urqhart is a ruin but definitely just as majestic and beautiful!! In its hayday, it would have been massive and quite intimidating for anyone silly enough to try enter uninvited. Scotland always comes up with the goods…

Wandering around the ruins with Peta, apparently I missed quite a handsome dude looking my way, had to explain my priorities to Peta… Castles, hairy coos, gin then men… unless you’re Jamie then you go right to the top of the list!!! Anyhoo, having taken in all the sites of the castle we wandered down to the banks of Loch Ness and decided to go for a paddle, why the hell not? Maybe our yummy toes would entice Nessy to make an appearance?? Full credit to Peta who managed to get her tights off from under her jeans without even a slip of thigh, chicks got mad skills…

Dan the Loch Ness Man did mention the water was around 6 degrees, that was about right, between trying not to go arse up on the mossy rocks of the shore, I’m sure my toes were freezing off! No Nessy unfortunately, maybe our toes weren’t as tasty as we thought! We took our time to paddle and sit on the shore chatting, then realized we had 5 minutes to leg it up the massive hill behind the castle and find our bus in one of the thousand car parks, was hoping it was a case of Dan the patient Man… luckily we made it, mostly thanks to one of the older gentleman who was still off somewhere taking pics with his kick arse camera… Once all aboard it was onto Fort Augustus, a place that once again didn’t really have much of a fort, feckin forts, stop teasing me!! Somehow during the BNB drop off hustle I ended up being the only one staying at my BNB and it was like fate, the host had decorated the interior with a theme of hairy coos!!

Being our last night as a tour group we’d agreed to all gather at the Richmond pub for a last supper. Arriving a little late on account of my shite sense of direction, Robert, Peta and Dan the now one of us Man has saved me a seat. Chicken strips better than KFC and a few gins later, some how our drinks had taken on identities of their own… a gender neutral Tenant beer, a girly Rose wine, a manly merlot and a gentleman gin please!?! It was funny at the time and somehow the bar tender was in on the joke, at least we thought he was!! The people on this trip really were what made it so brilliant, I’ve mostly detailed the lives and times of Peta and Robert but Ardis and Michael the amazing photographer from the US, Roelene and Steve from South Africa, and Christi and Todd also played a starring role, as did Dan the Man who was now just Daniel, no longer having to be the man.

Needless to say, there were quite a few drinks, laughs and just straight out hilarious conversation! I’m pretty sure Michael’s pertinent question “Do you vacuum your pets in Australia?” takes the cake. And poor innocent Daniel took a hiding from Peta and I about his inability to pronounce a T, goes for all Scottish folk really. Peta was Pee-ah, can pronounce a T to start with but anything in the middle gets lost. The Boner lighthouse also came up in conversation which set us all off again. Did learn quite a bit of Scottish that night though, a Kirk is a church, they say tan it instead of skull, pee pee is a piss and chebs are those two mounds on a women’s chest… yeah, the conversation may have taken a turn for the worst!! No idea what Ned’s are, vaguely recall maybe it’s the Scottish version of a bogan??

Anyhoo, midnight rolled around and those still standing were eloquently kicked out, highly possible a certain someone had a bottle of gin in her room and the four of us Richmond Rioters ended up sitting on steps on the banks of the Canal having a few swigs, yeah, Robert, Peta, Margaret and Daniel, I’m looking at you. What else happened that night is most definitely a case of what happens on tour stays on tour…

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The cup, the Connor and the coos…

Saturday 14th September 2019

So waking up on what was supposed to be the most magical day of my Scottish adventure and I could hear it, winds trying to rip the roof off and rain banging on the windows. Wasn’t quite the hurricane Dan the joking Man promised but it was enough to mean all our days plans were going to be inside, or on the bus. No fairy pools, no outside hikes, no castles. Bitterly disappointed, had a little (maybe big) whinge to Kylie on Messenger and being the awesome friend she is she promised we’d be back, Scotland is our backyard after all. That put a smile on my dial!!!

While driving through sideways rain, Dan the Google Man told us a wee bit about the Isle of Skye. Main industries in Skye are tourism, which is surprising based on the friendliness of our inn keeper and waitress, the other is fishing, salmon mostly. All over Skye they have Salmon farms where they fatten up the fish then hoover the big ones up for eating. Not sure if it was the accent, I’m sure he said hoover, which put a visual in my head of a giant vacuum sucking up fish… huh?? How does that work??

Once there was a clearing in the sideways rain, we were let off the bus for a pit stop at a place I can’t remember where there was a gorgeous stream and bridge with magnificent views over the Skye landscape. According to Dan, sick of saying the Man, if you stick your head in the stream, you can talk to the fairies!?! Of course everyone volunteered Dan the fairy Man to go first and to his credit, in his head went. Apparently the fairies told him he was bloody stupid and it was too cold to be sticking your head in streams… at least that’s what I translated from his Scottish…

BOTB and I was kinda disappointed I didn’t take up the chance to talk to the fairies, so our crew of misfits and a few others we sucked in all agreed we’d do it on our way back… why the hell not huh?

Driving around the island, I think Dan the lost Man was going around in circles wondering what the hell to do on a day of non stop rain and wind. Being a good Scottish lad, we landed at a Brewery. Well, a shop for a brewery, couldn’t see or smell any beer brewing, just bottles and bottles lined up for the buying, so this is what they do with tourists on a rainy day. A tasting and a browse of a pottery shop later and yep, BOTB. This time saturated because only one minute in the rain was like having a shower full bolt while fully clothed. Next stop were some black huts from back in the olden day. You can tell how excited I was. Given my current saturated state, I chose to stay on the bus, along with nearly everyone else! Robert bless him battled the rain and toured the huts. The first pic is mine (looks welcoming huh?) and the rest I stole from Robert…

AOTB (work that one out!!) and we were headed for Portree, the main town in Skye. As per every town we stop in, Dan the tour guide Man points out all the good places to eat and the local attractions. Having been a shit tourist at the last stop, I decided I’d at least make an effort to walk up the hill to get a pic of the harbour and coloured houses. Thank the lord for Robert lending me his spare rain jacket cos this is what it looked like… you can’t see the rain but I think from the look on our faces you get the drift…

That lasted about 5 minutes until us three were back down the hill and into the pub next to where the bus was parked. And there we stayed until it was BOTB time. While at the pub though, we met a lovely English couple visiting Skye to take footage with a drone. They were loving the rain as much as we were! English dude ended up having some brilliant shots of Skye, Edinburgh and all over, check out Sky’s the Limit – Digital Aerial Imaging in Facebook, some epic pics!

So BOTB with the rain and wind still billowing, seriously it didn’t let up the whole day. But to my delight, there were lots of airey cooes… that’s what I heard first… then I realised Dan the doesn’t speak English Man meant hairy coos, which translates to hairy cows. Those gorgeous Scottish highland cows, with the long brown hair and horns. Would have taken a picture but the windows were mostly steamed up by now. You’ll see what I mean in future posts! To keep us entertained because we couldn’t see out the windows, nor get off anywhere in the torrential rain, Dan the storytelling Man told us a wee tale of the bad blood between the two clans that laid ownership to the Isle of Skye. The MacCleods and the MacDonalds. BTW, it’s Mac in Scotland and Mc in Ireland. Must mean the infamous McDonalds is Irish aye?? Back to the story. So to make peace between the MacCleods and the MacDonalds, which let’s just call the MacDs and MacC’s, they arranged a marriage between a top man from the McC’s clan and a favourite woman from the MacD’s clan. The idea would be they’d pop out a baby within a year, as agreed, and the Clans would live happily ever after. But it’s a tale cos obvs it didn’t go to plan! Instead, after a year or so and no baby, the lass from the MacD’s clan was returned with only one eye… in a cart pulled by a one-eyed horse, with a one-eyed carriage master and his one-eyed dog… yeah, apparently that was their idea of a joke and how to politely make it clear the deal was off. Strange sense of humour these Scottish folk… not sure if it’s my shit story telling or the fact we were so bored at the time, or Dan the funny Man’s Scottish accent but it was way more entertaining at the time… kinda sucks now… BTW, Mac means “son of”, a tidbit of useless information…

Given we couldn’t see out the windows and apparently there were no more tales to tell, I had a wee kip. It wasn’t til we were nearly back at the BNB that I woke disappointed I missed talking to the fairies, but apparently the wee stream Dan the fairy talking Man dipped his head in earlier was now a raging torrent that not even the fairies dare enter. Fair call. In what was already an wreck of a day, the windscreen wipers decided to give up battling the rain. Feck. Dan the bus driver Man managed to get us back to the hotel near our BNBs but had to call the boss and find out what the feck to do. A bus load of people to drop off and can’t see out the windscreen. So what do you do when you’re stuck on a bus outside a hotel – with a pub??? Robert the ringleader suggested there wouldn’t be many around so we could have a few quiet drinks, maybe dinner and his gracious BNB host would take us back later. Well, as soon as we opened the door to the “quiet” pub it was apparent it’d be anything but. The local football team (you know I mean soccer!) had won the premiership and were celebrating… loudly. We managed to avoid being noticed and play with a gorgeous dog but it didn’t take long for the attention to turn to the only two females in the whole damn pub!! Over came a few players, the manager and the cup of death… As Robert informed us with a scared look on his face, it’s tradition, you HAVE to drink out of the premiership cup otherwise it’s bad luck. I call bull… should have called bull louder when I saw the contents of the cup looked like this…

But there was a Connor factor, cute player who took a fancy to me according to Peta. Probs a bit young…looked like Klaus from The Originals if you’re into the vampire show. Definitely had the Scottish charm, think I’m just a massive sucker for the Scottish accent! A few more rounds from the cup later and we desperately needed some food to keep down the milky, lumpy substance from the cup…Connor and his crew invited us onto the next pub with them but one of us had better sense than that, not sure who. Don’t think any of us want to claim it. For a day hampered by rain and despite me sounding like a negative nelly this whole time, the day was full of laughs, some pretty sites and brilliant company. Life really is about the wonderful people you meet, and Scottish dudes called Connor…

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What’s the craic??

Thursday 5th September – Sunday 8th September 2019

When meeting someone, I know within the first 5 minutes whether I like them or not. I do the same thing with cities. Judge mental fuck I know. But it’ll help you understand how within 5 minutes of getting off the train in Belfast, I knew this was my kinda city!! While waiting for Kyles to finish work, thought I’d leg it around to the botanic gardens, just a casual stroll along the river… see why I liked it so quickly??

About half way into stomping down the river way, low and behold, Kylie was going to be back at the hotel in 15 minutes… the hotel which was 5 minutes away from where I was 20 minutes ago! All good, get those steps up and work off the gin that would inevitably be consumed later…

Finally joining Kyles at her accommodation, I was well and truly pooped, as was she but we were both of the mind that if we sat down we’d never get back up so instead it was a freshen up and hit the town scenario, for a quiet one of course… Quiet was redefined that night to a delicious dinner at a fancy restaurant followed by epic dance moves to an equally as epic Irish band. Cotton Eye Joe cranked in a pub in Belfast and not a person stood still… or they weren’t standing still in our eyes due to the gins we were drinking?!? Being with Kyles, you always meet people, she’s the friendly one, I’m the grumpy sheep. We met some dude that looked like Grey Worm from Game of Thrones, a British boxer, a lightweight one by the looks of him… met a gorgeous couple from Scotland who were having a weekend away from the kids, that chick could rip up the dance floor!! And we met other people, this chick and those dudes, hell knows who they are, also managed to get an awesome pic of the band…

Throughout the night as my camera roll tells me, we found the most stunning street art on random walls and alleyways, Belfast was quickly getting into my top 10 of places I love, and the Cathedral Quarter where we partied one of the best!! And kudos for the best pub in the town being called The Thirsty Goat!!

Needless to say Friday was a little slow, well for me anyway, Kyles had to get up and work but my planned day of “see all the things” turned into sleep and annoy Kylie. We did manage to fit in an afternoon tour of the Crumlin Gaol… now me being a bogan Aussie kept pronouncing it as it looks but apparently you say it like “jail”, whateves, not my fault they can’t spell…

To alleviate the amount of nothingness done in the previous 10 hours, we decided to walk to the JAIL and by god, I’m glad we did, we literally stumbled across the most amazing, beautiful church I’ve ever seen in my life, lost for words… photos don’t do it justice!

So finally making it to the JAIL after a coffee and taxi ride, we were at Belfast’s number one tourist attraction. Eh, it was kinda interesting. The room where they hang people, hidden behind a bookcase, opened in dramatic fashion by the tour guide, was interesting but mostly confronting. Can’t imagine how it’d feel to stare at the noose to soon be around your neck. Sure the dudes (all men) were murderers but still, no matter how horrible your morals are, surely this would suck arse… anyhoo, there was a section of of the jail we couldn’t see because it’s reserved for weddings… morbid much??

The really cool part of the tour, in addition to the helicopter, was the tunnel from the jail to the court house, looked eerie, felt even stranger when hearing the stories about people walking the tunnel to their fate…

After having a “quiet” one the night before, we attempted to do a quiet one for reals. Wandering the streets and taking in even more beautiful murals, we stumbled into a Whiskey shop (of course!) and Kyles being the friendly chick she is got us recommendations for dinner. The Cloth Ear it was, the Irish certainly know how to name their pubs! By god, the deliciousness of their beef and Irish ale pie was drool worthy, so so delicious, surely this was what the dudes at the jail ordered for their last meal??

As delicious as it was, I do remember Noel saying that the real Irish don’t put beer in their food, they drink it… so maaaybe, it was a tourist trap meal but who cares, tasted AMAZING!! Also what came back to me during the day, the good ol’ Irish lingo!! “What’s the craic? is the Aussie equivalent of “whats happening?”, and the best one, eejit, wander what it means??? Say idiot with an Irish accent… there you go!!!

Believe it or not, we did somehow have an early night?!? Knowing we were about to embark on an epic day trip around Northern Ireland was pretty much the only reason to justify being in bed by 10pm on a Friday night in Belfast.

Our For The Throne trip around Northern Ireland is worthy of its own long winded, over explained blog post so check that out… I’m gonna skip ahead to Sunday afternoon once we got back from Winterfell…

After dropping off the hire car, we had six and a half hours to see and do everything in Belfast… easy peasey! First stop, the Titanic museum, Belfast is after all the place they built the unsinkable ship and used to be the hub of ship building in Europe. The oldest shipbuilding company in the city went into receivership only a few days ago, pretty darn sad…

So here’s where I be a complete AH and say I wasn’t a massive fan of the Titanic museum. Like it was interesting reading about the history of shipbuilding in Belfast and going on the cool carriage ride but when it came to the Titanic info, to be honest, most of it I’d already read about. And here’s my confession why, I may have been a little obsessed with the movie when it came out and Googled everything and anything about the Titanic. And I’m really good at remembering useless facts. The one thing which made the visit worth it, an immersive tour of the ship, three screens – left, right and front, taking you through a tour of the decks of Titanic, that was pretty wow.

Titanic museum done and dusted, Kyles and I who are nothing if not efficient decided the hop on hop off bus was the best way to take in Belfast in the remaining 5 hours before we begrudgingly went back to London. Our hoppin tour took us past Parliament House, the Opera House and possibly a second Parliament House?!? Which is interesting because I swear the hoppin tour guide said Northern Ireland don’t actually have a government at the moment! So here’s what I’m ashamed to say I didn’t know before going to Ireland, well kinda knew but not really, Ireland isn’t one country, there’s the Republic of Ireland which is the southern half, where Dublin resides, its own country, own government, own citizens. Then there’s Northern Ireland which falls under British Empire rule. Maybe it was just me that didn’t know that… also didn’t know that Northern Ireland had a massive wall built to separate the Nationalists and Unionists, who are they you say?? Trust me, Google was my bestie on this trip!! The Nationalists are a political movement, who are mostly Catholic, who say that the Irish people are a nation and want the creation of a sovereign Irish nation-state on the island of Ireland, including both the republic and Northern Ireland. On the other hand, Unionists, who are Protestant, favour the continuation of a political union between the islands of Ireland and Great Britain. The wall is supposedly a peace wall, built in 1969 following The Troubles, to minimize violence between the nationalists and unionists. If like me you don’t know what The Troubles were, do a Holly and make Google your best friend, really interesting reads. The song by U2 Sunday Bloody Sunday is named after the worst day in the three decade war which was The Troubles. Also some good doco’s on YouTube about it. Wish I knew more about the history of Ireland before I visited so I could have really understood the murals and sentiment of the different areas.

But a lesson to be learnt, walls don’t achieve anything, when have they ever in history??? Build bridges not walls, yeah, I’m with you on that one. The area where part of the old wall once stood is full of incredible murals and strongly political messages that hail back to the The Troubles. The wall itself is covered with what some would call graffiti, I’m calling it wall art, with people writing their own personal messages. To be honest, neither Kyles or I could think of anything to write befitting of the significance of the wall… and we didn’t have a texta.

After taking the time to reflect on the the importance of where we were standing, we quite literally had to leg it through a questionable neighborhood to jump on the last hoppin bus, which took us on our last grand tour of Belfast, and by gosh, she’s a pretty city!!!!

When you’re in love with a city and have had an epic time with a bestie, leaving is always sad, but thinking about our Ireland adventure makes me smile, so many good memories. You know what else makes me smile?? Guinness! Proud to say I ❤️ Ireland and I ❤️ Guinness, it especially goes down mighty well when your plane is delayed by 2 hours, thanks Jetstar, I mean easyJet, not my fault their logo looks exactly the same…

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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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