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…
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….
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.
Holly vs the world 