back.

Hello Internet, it has been a very long time. I'm not sure whether to be sorry about that or not, but by way of an excuse, it probably has something to do with spending my working days with words.

I promised a friend very early this year (or very late last year) that I would do another of my New Year's lists, and well, better late than never.

I decided on only two resolutions this year, but important ones. They both stem from the same belief - that you can't change the world, but you can change how you live in it. Maybe I'm just getting Kantian as I grow older, but I've decided that you can't really judge most actions by their possible results - you really just need to think about what is the most ethical way to live and hope that everyone else does the same. It can get a bit overwhelming, because trying to do the right thing can feel like a drop in the ocean, but I've decided that opting out on those grounds is really more of a cop-out. How can you hold theoretical beliefs on what we all should do, if you're not willing to see them through yourself? How can you benefit so much from your place in the world when you're not willing to give a little thought to what you should do with it? And look, I can't be perfect, but I can try and make the world I live in a tiny bit better, instead of a tiny bit worse. Maybe this is all an exercise in pointlesslness, but at least it's something.

So:
1. Reduce my greenhouse gas emissions by 10% in 2010.

Honestly - I really don't understand why we're still arguing about climate change. Every single single scientific institution of international standing agrees that climate change is occurring, and that we have caused it. Yeah, there are individual deniers, but you know what? I'm going to go with the scientists on this one.

(Incidentally, it makes me utterly rageful when I talk to someone about this and they say something like 'yeah, that's what they say, but why was this winter so cold then?'. Right. Well that proves it then. Please directly pass 'Go' and collect your PhD in Climate Science.)

Now, if that's the case, we should be doing something about it, right? I've gotten pretty disheartened by leaders who don't do the right thing, and people who are wilfully ignorant because it's more convenient. So I'm doing what I can.

Which is this - reducing my my emissions by 10%. This is a manageable amount, and an appropriate amount if we want to continue inhabiting this planet.

You can read more here and here.

(As another aside - I kind of love this quote from the last link above, about politicans arguing about climate change and doing nothing: 'Unless there is a radical change of plan ... world leaders will not only be discussing the alignment of deckchairs on the Titanic, but hotly disputing whose deckchairs they really are and who has the responsibility for moving them. Fascinating as this argument may be, it does nothing to alter the course of the liner.')

2. Give a proportion of my income to help fight poverty

I've thought about this for a while, and I've just never gotten around to it. Inexcusable really, but now's the time. And it's not even that hard when you think about. What good reasons are there for not sharing your relative wealth with those who can't even afford to eat?

And then I read Peter Singer's views on it all, and as ever, the man convinced me. He's just so damned logical! Did you know that extreme poverty could literally be wiped out if the top 10% of U.S. earners gave a proportion of their wealth away? That is freaking ridiculous. It would be a significant proportion for sure, but still small enough that they could continue living in the lap of elegant luxury. They wouldn't have to give up their yachts or anything.

And if that's true, then if all of the world's 'regularly' well-off people (i.e. those that can spare the cash for a coffee every day) gave a very small proportion of their income, then we could achieve the same result. Extreme poverty is literally a fixable problem.

For me, this means giving away about 1% of my income. That is extraordinarly do-able!

You can read more about it all here and here (and it is very interesting too).

====

Perhaps there is an ulterior motive for me writing this all on the Internet. One further conclusion that I've come to recently is that it's important to challenge people's beliefs if you think something is important. I find this really difficult to do - I was brought up to be polite, never to imply that someone might be wrong, to believe that it's ok for people to have their own opinions, regardless of how misguided they may be. Well, I'm not so sure about that any more. I will never aim to be rude to people, and it sure can be hard to talk people out of their comfortable bubbles; however, I've also come to the conclusion that it's really not okay to ignore dangerous thoughts, just out of a fear of being thought 'impolite'.

So here you go, Internet, friends. These are things I think are important. I would really like it if you would have a serious think about them, maybe read the articles I've linked to, and consider making my resolutions yours too. And you know what? They're easy things. Cutting 10% of your emissions might be as simple as turning off all your blinking electronics at the powerpoint when you're not using them. And 1% of your income? You won't even notice it, and you might like the warm fuzzy feeling.

End proselytising.

====

Just two resolutions? Did I say two? umm...well (surprise surprise) there's actually a few more than that. I can't think of them all off the top of my head, but here's a few for posterity:

• wear a wider range of my clothes - stop wearing the same three outfits because they're comfortable and no-one sees you most of the time anyway, while lots of lovely clothes languish in the wardrobe because they're too dressy or too wacky
• start running again (again)
• become a mostly vegetarian (again)
• cook at least one new dish per week
• visit Sydney
  
• be more pro-active about wordsmithing.

Hmm. Can't think of any more. I'm sure there are more. I might update this list at a later stage.

====

Review of last year's resolutions:

1. Play music - find an orchestra, join a band...whatever. Don't let it slide more. 90%
I joined a band or two and did a bit of teaching. Tick. Now working on actually practising.

2. Watch 1 French film per week 10%
Yeah. I maybe managed 5 French films. Lame.

3. Improve my skills in a visual art (perhaps take a drawing class?) 30%
I took a class or two, no drawing classes.

4. Become a morning person (get out of bed) 5%
I begin to wonder if this will ever happen. Actually I watched this documentary about how more people have heart attacks in the morning, so maybe I should hope it doesn't.

5. Get back to running - 5k before my birthday 20%
Well, this patently didn't happen before the deadline. But I have started again, so that's something.

6. Write one short story per month 0%
Strike out. I did do a bunch of voluntary and fun non-fiction though, so not a total loss I guess.

7. Be more pro-active about being social 55%
I did make a bunch of new friends last year, though I'm not sure being pro-active had much to do with it.

8. Learn to drive a manual car (REALLY this year) 60%
This is another one where the deadline got me. I have started, though.

9. More books/less screens 55%
There are still too many screens, however, there are also more books.

10. Continue to take photos as if i were not in my hometown 55%
I kept this up for a while, and then lost momentum. Time to start again.

11. Continue to cultivate an independent sense of style (even though it's harder here) 12%
Yeah. It's harder here.

12. Become a mostly-vegetarian 70%
I did pretty well on this one, fell off the wagon, and now I'm mostly back on it again.

13. Strike 'should' from my vocabulary 30%
Honestly, mostly I forget. But I think this might be one of those ones where just thinking about it is half the importance.

14. Begin learning another language (Japanese?) 0%
Strike two.

15. Limit my usage of the word 'awesome' to only those situations which truly warrant it. 51%
See item #13.

Average score: 29.53%.
Let's be honest - this is not great. But funnily enough, 2009 turned out to be another one of those years where heaps of life-changing stuff happened. I moved (more than) a few times, got a new job (the first step in a career I'm actually interested in), got a new boyfriend, saved up enough to buy a sweet sweet ride (and one or two other beautiful investement-y items). So in light of the context, maybe 29-odd-% is not so bad. And looking at that list 18 months later reminds me of a few things I might like to have another crack at. So I think I'm ok with it.

And since it is nearly the end of 2010, how am I doing with this year's list? Well. Really? Pretty abysmal. Which is totally unacceptable and inexcusable, since I set myself Important yet Achievable goals this year. Still, there is time to work it. And I have always been a bit of a last minute girl.

Resolution #1 - well, I'm in a rather inflexible living situation at the moment, and I'm pretty conscientious about emissions wastefulness already, so this is proving a challenge. I'm sure the re-vegetarianism is helping, and I am growing my own veggie garden. Maybe I have already made 10%, but I feel in my guts that I should be trying harder. I think the best thing I could do would be to start riding a bike, but honestly - I'm really scared I will fall off and badly hurt myself. This is a painfully true but still crap excuse. Time to try harder! It is lovely weather! Get it together, Emily!

Resolution #2 - I started off trying to put aside a little each week, but somehow it kept getting sucked into bills etc. I am getting a goodly tax return though, so this will be done in a week or so. I am not giving myself a tick yet, because it should not have taken me so long to get around to it; however, I am confident it will indeed happen and soon. The challenge will be to plan better for next year.

As for the other resolutions, well, I'm not doing so good in general honestly. I am doing a lot of stock-taking right now anyway - I am not feeling very happy and I feel that I am stagnating. Having gotten closer to figuring out what I do want, I have gotten too good at convincing myself that it is unattainable, to the point that I don't even try any more. It is time to start making plans again, and more importantly, taking action again. This applies to the small things as well as the big ones, but mainly to the big ones. I have an abiding fear of realising at age 80 that I've wasted my life, but I seem to be doing a good job of letting that fear push me in the direction of making it a reality. Time to wake up!

====
Gosh. 2000 words. How is it that I can dribble on about navel-gazing, but writing about something that people might actually be interested in still feels like the words are my teeth and I am pulling at them?

This is not a very exciting place to end, but this is it I suppose. I wonder if this will be the end of this blog altogether?

Just in case here is a picture. This is all of the drinks I tried from the Asian grocer in 2009:

talking more rubbish, disguised (poorly) as navel-gazing. You've been warned.

Hello internet, long time no words. It's getting hard to do this introspective stuff now that more people are reading. People I know in the flesh. It was easier when I could just talk about what city I was in this week, and it was easier when this was largely anonymous, but I think the navel-gazing is one of the more useful things I get out of dribbling along here, otherwise all these thoughts are just transient and there's nothing to make me remember them, let alone to hold me to them. I hope you'll bear with me...but if not, you can sneak out now and I'll never know.

Someone asked me about my New Year's resolutions, and whether I was going to rank myself on last year's, like I did the year before. Well, I only had one resolution last year, and I'd say I did about 95% on that one, so that's not bad, hey? You don't get to know what it was though, sorry.

I only made the one resolution last year, because I knew I was going to do a bunch of stuff I wanted to, without having to make a list, or even plan it much beyond 'get on a plane, and see what happens...'. I did achieve a lot in 2008, though I would not say it was a good year. In fact, let us be clear: 2008 was mostly pretty dreadful, but that's not to say I'd trade it in. I'm just trying very hard to remember that it was unfun and to take what lessons come from that, rather than getting sucked in by the revisionist synthetic happiness that my brain's now manufacturing. You know, it's hard to tell people 'oh yeah...Paris sucked'. Because more often than not you get the look that says 'Really? That doesn't sound right. Are you sure you weren't just doing it wrong?'. And then I feel like apologising for being a failed bohemian. Well, whatever, sometimes it's as hard to go against the grain as with it, and I'm fighting to hold onto what was real about 2008. 'Fighting to hold onto what was real...?'. My God. Did I just write that? I can be so pretentious sometimes. Anyway. What is my point? Hmmm. Despite 2008 being largely a sinkhole of blergh, I did achieve a lot and without resolutions. I moved overseas, lived in a city where I knew no-one, learnt another language to a practical standard, saw a fair bit of the world, worked out what I want to do with my life. So I guess I would count 2008 as an 87% successful year, even though I would probably give it a 20% on the happiness-o-meter. But that's ok. It's not all beer and skittles.

And now, despite being unemployed, single, poor and generally not having most of the tangible things I'd like, well, I'm a lot happier than I have been for years. I'm not putting the big stuff in my resolutions, because it'll either happen or it won't, and I doubt a January list is going to help it along. Beginning again is refreshing, but also a bit terrifying. It's nice to have a clean start, but there's not a lot to hide behind, so every knock-back is a bit of a blow to the old self-worth. I've got a couple of things in the pipelines, which is exciting, but generally I'm peeing my pants because if they don't work out it's not far back to square one. Lord I hope they work out. I hate square one. But it's only just February, and hopefully by 2010 I've got the big things sorted out - a job, a career, a home - and I'm still happy like I am now. I'm working on it but I don't think I can plan it. So I'll get back to you on all that next year.


And in the meantime, to keep me honest, here's (most of) my 2009 resolution list of the littler things:

1. Play music - find an orchestra, join a band...whatever. Don't let it slide more.
2. Watch 1 French film per week
3. Improve my skills in a visual art (perhaps take a drawing class?)
4. Become a morning person (get out of bed)
5. Get back to running - 5k before my birthday
6. Write one short story per month
7. Be more pro-active about being social
8. Learn to drive a manual car (REALLY this year)
9. More books/less screens
10. Continue to take photos as if i were not in my hometown
11. Continue to cultivate an independent sense of style (even though it's harder here)
12. Become a mostly-vegetarian
13. Strike 'should' from my vocabulary
14. Begin learning another language (Japanese?)
15. Limit my usage of the word 'awesome' to only those situations which truly warrant it.

Yeah, it's kind of a long list, and that random commenter from a few years ago would probably tell me I should cull it to something more manageable. But I'll be happy with a P1, and being at square one for now at least has the advantage that it will be easier to compare a few steps forward come 2010.

in need of some pithy motivational speaking.

I've been putting off writing here for a while now - like so many things lately I just don't seem to be able to find the motivation. I lay everything out in baby steps ahead to make it easier for myself, but when you can't bring yourself to take step one, then it's a shaky ladder indeed you're building. In this case I've been planning to write a 'how I feel about being back' post to round off the travel writing, before writing anything else, and now it's been so long since I arrived I've forgotten my first impressions.

Let it suffice to say that I don't regret coming home. The orange blossom smells good, the coffee tastes good, and the sky is the right colour again. I have the strangest feeling here, like I'm the only one for whom this year has passed. It's as if the rest of the world works on Narnia time - 9 months living in Europe feels like I've missed a week here. I'm (mostly) glad for the time I spent overseas, and the things I did and saw, but it feels like I'm back where I'm meant to be, and it feels better.

This is not all I wanted to say on that, but now I am at least on rung one of my ladder.

===

I am giving a lot of thought at the moment to careers/directions/big-life-decisions etc. It's nice to be in a position to 'turn over a new leaf' so to speak, but I also wonder if this is the type of stuff better left to the subconscious, because all this time on my hands is doing my head in. (Clearly, otherwise I'd do something about the amount of cliches in this paragraph).

Meanwhile, I'm reading Michael Pollan 'The Omnivore's Dilemma' which is simultaneously a dry hard slog, and incredibly interesting and enlightening. I would recommend it, but probably with the proviso that you either have a lot of time on your hands or are happy to read it at the rate of a few pages a day. Or you have a more than passing interest in food and agriculture.

One of the things Pollan discusses is how (American) farming practices have changed to reflect the need for industrial efficiency over other criteria. Farms have changed from small affairs, cultivating a number of different crops and animals, to extremely large mono-cultures. The latter is more efficient at the most basic level - growing more per acre than the former and for less money. This is, until you factor in things like soil and animal health, nutrition, transport, subsidies, (oil-based) fertilisers, antibiotic resistance, environmental and public health, and global stability. The big-scale farmers themselves are less and less important or skilled, but on the other hand there are many more employment steps in the chain from production to plate. More diversified farms are arguably less 'efficient' as they require more initial manpower and cannot be replicated on a large scale, but because they require fewer inputs, and don't degrade the resources that they have (in fact quite the opposite) they are significantly more sustainable. In the sense that they're not doomed to collapse.

Traditional investment logic would tell you the same thing - diversify your investments and prosper in the long term. Stick to just one thing and you're in a precarious position.

It's a pretty universally applicable concept: 'Don't put all your eggs in one basket'.

So why is it that at an individual commercial level we feel the need to do exactly that? We go to work, we do something very specialised, most of us don't enjoy it very much, and we look forward to going home at the end of the day and doing something else. Industry decrees that, as a whole, the system is more efficient by assigning one task to one person, one cog for one job. In theory by becoming extremely good at that one thing, we are more efficient. But does it really work like that? Most people waste a lot of time at work distracting themselves in an attempt to force variety into their day. At a macro-level it's a well oiled machine but at a micro-level in reality we're checking our email 15 times an hour and playing typeracer. And how exactly does that translate to productivity on a macro level really? Or does it only work because of all of the things we can't or don't count?

We've come to believe that if we're dissatisfied with doing just one narrow task, it's simply because we have not found the right narrow task: our 'passion'. That once you find it you will be completely fulfilled doing nothing else for 80 hours a week. But is that really true? I don't know so many people who live like that. Most (educated, happy) people I know find their jobs satisfying-on-balance at best. Those who do love their jobs seem to do so because they have personalities inclined to focus on the good elements in their lives, or because they're fortunate enough to have a challenging and varied role, rather than because they are the lucky few who've found their calling. I've no doubt that there are some people who live the dream - they keep the myth alive after all - but I imagine that they are the minority. Most people seem to get by with a balance of liking elements of their job, and recognising it as a means to an end.

I spent at least ten years of my life working towards a career in one of the most highly trained and specialised fields around. If I hadn't changed direction, it probably would've taken me another five years of hard work before I actually had a chance at a stable job, if I ever got hired at all. And this in a field noted for its 'passion' but nevertheless ranked 2nd highest (after flight-traffic controllers) for stress, and lower than prison guards for job satisfaction. What was I thinking? And why do I still feel like a failure for walking away?

Okay, some jobs require specialisation simply because it takes a long time to become very skilled at something very necessary. I'm pretty happy that my anaesthetist took 12 years training to be really good at his craft, and it would be a bit of a waste having him spend 25% of his time sending patients off on the Good Ship Lollipop, and 75% of his time doing random other stuff. But not many jobs require such high levels of training, and nor, would it seem, do many people have the capacity to achieve them.

I don't think we were built to live like this. We've evolved the way we are because to our genetically-identical ancestors, being good at a number of tasks was an advantage. Those who had the ability and inclination to do a number of things (hunting, gathering, building fires, behaving socially, creating tools etc) had a distinct advantage over those who were really good at say, 'information architecture' (what even IS that?) but not much else. Oh hello Mr Sabre-Tooth Tiger, I'm just integrating your database with...*chomp*. Is it any wonder we don't enjoy working like this?

So why is it that we each accept the premise of industrial productivity over individual gumption, whereby faulty number-crunching translates to overall efficiency and high salaries at the expense of job satisfaction? Capitalism only measures currency, not happiness, and it delights in large-scale measurable systems. To get us on side, it sells us the dream of finding vocational bliss by marrying skill and passion. If you're doing it right your mistress will be a hefty salary. That's fine, and if you've managed to achieve it I applaud you, but what if you don't like your job? You'll think it's because you're in the wrong field, not because you're a rounded person being squished into a small square cubicle.

And where does that leave me on my job quest? Do I only feel like this because I'm Gen Why (or whatever the flip they're calling us these days) and my attention span has allegedly been ruined by computer games? I'd like to spend my working time enjoyably and efficiently - I don't want to waste my time any more than my employer does, and I think for me, like most people, that means doing a variety of meaningful tasks. And hey, I'd like to be paid a reasonable sum for doing my job well, because I've swallowed the rest of the dream at least; I'd like a house and a garden please, and I wouldn't mind an iPhone either, while you're at it.

But that's not the name of the game: it's employability vs balance, and as I read the job ads, I find myself continually berated for being well-rounded. 'A jack of all trades and master of none' - that's me. Except it's actually more like 'pretty good at many things, intelligent, reliable, helpful, practical, adaptible and with decent packaging, but not extremely specialised' which apparently is not so a much selling point for potential employees as it is for, say, Swiss army knives.

So here's my real question: what happened to the dream of the Renaissance (wo)man?

compiling her favourite photos.

considering herself, at home.

Ah, London. I worked out that in the end I've spent almost a month in London this year: enough for it to feel familiar, enough to feel almost-at-home, like a visitor not a tourist. Still, becuase I've got a pattern going here, more dot-points (sorry Kate) and then finally some words about this city. K? K.

• Thursday: to London. Yo! Sushi @ Paddington station. Went to Oxford St, fought with the Apple people again, Primark, the Gap. Collected the rest of my luggage.
• Friday: Boden shop morning, Jermyn st (tie). Helped Nhan to the airport with her luggage (novel to be on the other side), Mozart's Requiem at St Martin in the Fields.
• Saturday: Flamingos 6 floors up, Kensington High St, Hyde Park (Albert Memorial, Diana Memorial, kids soccer), Harrods (madness and the Laduree for one final macaron), the British Museum (saw the Rosetta Stone, gave up on the crazy crowds in exchange for truffle cake), the Mousetrap, Avenue Q (most excellent, a real highlight!).
• Sunday: Windsor Castle (better than Buckingham or Versailles, collections like a storybook), coffee w Sarah.

London is an interesting place and I'm not sure I can express my feelings about it properly to anyone but myself. One of my friend's uncle's lived there for 20 years, and he says that the only people who lived in London are the exceptionally rich, those who grew up there and have never known anything different, and foreigners who're still starry eyed and haven't figured that you can have a nicer quality of life by commuting. That seems a fair enough summary to me: there're bogans (chavs?) here when in Paris they'd be relegated to the suburbs, yet a good standard of living is incredibly expensive , and there are more Australians than in Hobart. Which all makes for a rather odd experience really: it's a huge city so there are always things to amaze; you never really feel like a foreigner, but never really fit in either. Constantly in London I felt torn between different parts of the world, and different parts of myself.





























The thing I liked most about London is how much of everything felt so familiar even whilst it was brand new to me. So much of our culture is based on the British, and so much of the British is based on the capital... Tube stops ring bells for Australian suburbs, familiar words like 'ta' and 'bloody' are used here easily though they cannot be in America or Europe, street names recall nursery rhymes, the architecture screams of a certain ABC cop show...





























What I gleaned most from London, however, was an understanding of why English people are as they are. Or maybe it's the other way around. English people are a bit dowdy, glum, and deadpan. A M&S sandwich represents a gourmet lunch (actually, they are quite good). There's a murder in London almost every day. The landscape reflects all this: it's grey, a bit grubby and it rains, rains, rains. But despite all this, there are wonders everywhere. Perhaps not around every corner - it's too big for that, but this city has nourished the English language's best writer, it has built (and, ahem, pillaged for) the world's greatest museum, its tube carries a billion passengers a year. London is quite literally, the centre of the world, yet somehow, like the people, this giant city just keeps calm and carries on, but always with a twinkle in its eye.

Bath-ing.

Here I am again: I find myself in an odd position - I miss the regular writing, but haven't been feeling like finishing off the last few trip entries as something about being at here has blanked out my memory for anything other than being home and content at last. So I'm in the position of wanting to write, but not being able to write because I don't want to write. Stooopid.

Anyway, I'm getting fed up with all the procrastinating, so here we go:

We visited Bath for a couple of days, before the final mad london-home dash. The day we arrived it was raining and horrible. We went for a quick walk before the weather finally got the best of us in the form of a very spectacular umbrella inside-outage. It was one of those giant non-collapsible golf umbrellas and it went WOOMPF and the fabric even ripped from the metal. I must say, for all that it sort of ruins the function of the umbrella, I kind of like it when that happens. You'll be trudging along feeling wet and cold and grumpy, and then all of a sudden there's nothing to do but see yourself as motorists must and have a little giggle. On this occassion we therefore abandoned the tourism and had a long warm dinner at a resto called The Circus.

Wednesday was yet another exercise in fitting as much in as possible to one day. We went to Bath Abbey which was quite pretty, but the thing I liked most about it were all the dedications to people all over the walls and floor. Entire flagstones were taken up by small font accounts of departed people's lives and personalities. It's a shame we've lost that and it has all been boiled down to the impersonal 'First Name, Last Name, RIP, Sadly Missed'. I'd like someone to write something long and poetic and insightful for me and the wind...

We went to the Roman Baths which were kind of underwhelming. The old baths themselves were nice, but the whole thing has been turned into a big museum about it all which I found massively DULL, unfortunately. The funnest thing was tasting the water in the Pump House afterwards, which fyi, is really impressively gross. No more whinging about Adelaide water. The funnIest thing were the signs impressing that the untreated water is dangerous to ingest and even to touch. I wonder if it was always so...I therefore wonder where the health benefits come in...

In the afternoon we hired a car (oooh how powsh dahlink, except it was actually only about two coffees more than joining a bus tour, with more flexibility and fewer socks and birkenstocks). We went to Stonehenge, which was really cool for about 5 minutes, before the cutting wind got to us. I think it would be more worth the visit if it was less of a trek, as it's pretty much how you imagine it. Although it's in a big field filled with sheep which is kind of amusing.

On the way back, we headed for the little village where my mum's family hails from. It turned out to be a REALLY little village (2001 pop: 45) - ie. if you weren't looking for it, you'd probably assume it was a large farm on the side of an 80km/h road hidden by a hedge. It had a letterbox and that's about it. Unfortunately we couldn't really see much, as there was only one access road, and it had a big sign saying 'private driveway'. Still, it was nice to go there, to take my molecules where they haven't been for a few hundred years, and the surrounding countryside and larger villages are ridiculously pretty. We headed back to Bath and had a very standard I-talian dinner.

Enfin, Bath is a really sweet part of the world, but is also sort of exactly how you'd picture it. Thus is is pleasant, but there are no real novelties or surprises. The best bit about this trip though, was that I found some boots. Ok, they aren't quite the magical boots of my dreams, but after 10 years of searching they were close enough to actually make a purchase which is really something. Brown soft leather, round-ish toes, some heel, well-shaped/non-cankle making, appropriate for office or eveningwear, no ugly seams in ugly places, not too cowboy/horseriding/femme fatale/biker/spaceman. Re-sult.

Amsterdamned.

Sometimes, things are better in theory than in practice.

Take for one, liberalism. In theory, I wholeheartedly support the idea. However, in practice, sometimes, the results are less than pretty. And that is all I have to say on that.

Take for two, our hotel. In theory it was uber-funky, modern and efficient. In practice it was gimmicky, annoying and uncomfortable. And that is all I have to say on that.

So Amsterdam took a little while to grow on me, but grow on me it did. On the first afternoon we went for a random wander with our little time, found the tourist-y areas (and as you imagine this ponder for a moment on the kind of tourism Amsterdam that attracts) and didn't like it very much. The one nice thing that we did see was the Bagijnhof, a serene little complex of old churches, houses and gardens, entered by a secret door.

The next day we got an early start after hardly any sleep (see theory vs practice). We jumped on a bus (which ended up being two busses, and join me, will you? in thanking the standard international deity that ALL of the Dutch, including the busdrivers, speak excellent English) to get to the Aalsmeer flower market, the largest flower auction/distribution houses in the world. The getting there was fun, as we drove through some cute suburbs, with sweet Dutch houses with colourful gardens, and driveway bridges over the canals between the footpath and the roads. The market itself was amazing with huge warehouses full of pallets and palets of flowers, all being hooked together and pulled this way and that by little men on industrial segway-like vehicles. The warehouses were so big that bikes were provided for workers who needed to get from one side to the other! The auction rooms (12 in total) were like large lecture theatres, full of buyers on laptops all focussing intently on the product being wheeled in front of them and the screens displaying the changing price. It was all very cool to watch; however, considering how much effort has gone into making the place tourist-able (purpose-built special walkways around the factory), I think they could really do a much better job, for very little more effort.

After this we headed into Amsterdam itself and went on a New Europe walking tour of the city. This, as always, was fabulous and really gave us lots of insights into the city, both as it is now and in a historical context. It presented the more controversial aspects of the city in an interesting and non-threatening way, as well as introducing the gentler and often more hidden side of the city. By the end I had totally warmed to the city, the gorgeous canals, the live-and-let-live character of the people, the crazy tilting houses (built on an angle to make it easier to get stuff through the higher windows), the polyphonic church bells, the lovely boutique shops (very welcome after city after city of chain stores), and the lilting language, which sounds like a cross between English and German, as pronounced by the Swedish chef. The only thing I didn't like in the end was the cyclists, who are totally, completely, utterly mad. They ride on the bike paths, the streets, the footpaths, the right way, the wrong way, through red lights, at pedestrians.

After the tour, we went to Pancakes! to have, you guessed it...no, wait....poffertjes! (Teeny pancakes!). Then on to Metz & Co, a super fancy department store with a cafe on the top floor serving average coffee, made worthwhile for the spectacular view of the city. We then aimed to fit in a museum before the evening, but didn't quite make it.

During the tour we were taken to La Place: Marche du Monde for lunch - a giant marketplace-like hall with any type of food you could imagine, from sandwiches to salads to soups to steaks to smoothies. You just pick up what you want, take it to the cashier and then sit down and eat it. The food so was delicious, healthy and cheap, that we went back for dinner.

And that was it for Amsterdam. Short, and sweet. (Except for the hotel, which was awful).

ambivalent.

I was kind of under and overwhelmed by Prague all at once. A lot of it was more beautiful than any other city I've visited - there are so many amazing buildings all packed into one tiny space. There were some pleasant surprises too; it is, for example, one of the cleaner European cities I've visited. But for all of this, I was hoping for something more, something a bit different than everywhere else, perhaps something a bit more... eastern... which I just didn't find. The Czech Republic seems to have modernised very quickly since the Iron Curtain lifted, and although I know I would've found it hard to deal with if it had been gritty and confronting, somehow it just felt unfortunately like more of the same (only surprisingly more expensive). (Which just goes to show how spoiled I am becoming, and I am sure I will eat my words when I am home, and every city no longer has a handful of cathedrals from the middle ages.)

On the plus side, we were staying in a wicked cool hotel, although possibly this added to my malaise - quite honestly I would've been happy to lounge around in there all day every day. It was brand new, but fitted out like the dream of the 60s, with both new and vintage furniture. They also had delicious breakfasts and afternoon teas, and a big big bath. Which is, when it comes down to it, really all I want from life: food and soaking.

We didn't manage to pack a lot in to the 4.5 days that we were there. Perhaps we needed a break, or perhaps we just didn't manage to get inspired by the city quickly enough...

On our first day we did a bit of aimless wandering, and had an average dinner in a fancy art deco restaurant. The next day it rained a lot, but we did a 'free' (suggested tip of AUD$20 per person) walking tour of the left bank of the city, including the old town square, the Charles Bridge, the pee-men, the Lennon wall and the castle complex, among other things. We also saw the 'pee-men' a totally bizarre sculpture of two men peeing onto a map of the Czech Republic. You can sms your name and the pee-men will pee it. So maybe not entirely more of the same...

The following day we did the 'free' tour's other leg: the right bank, where we saw the astronomical clock, the hall where Mozart premiered Don Giovanni, the 'New' Town, Wenceslaus Square, Jan Huss' statue, Kafka's house, and the Jewish ghetto, plus a bunch of other things I have already forgotten. We also went to a crazy shopping mall becuase I'd decided to use the delightful hotel bath to finally try out some Lush products, and we discovered why Prague is such an expensive city. Apparently since the fall of Communism the Czechs have been shopping mad (like, REALLY mad) and there are gigantic Marion-like malls dotted all around the city. Totally bizarre.

On Friday we saw the astronomical clock chime, had a long and seriously delicious veggie lunch at Lehka Hlava (I even had birch sap to drink. Apparently now I will never get kidney or liver disease. Al-right.) In the evening we went to see the Czech Philharmonic play at the Rudolfinium. This orchestra is apparently the 9th best in Europe (although I don't know where they get rankings like that from) and I recognised two of the basoonists names (Frantisek Hermann and Jiri Seidl for any other nerds out there) which is kind of nothing short of amazing. Well, anyway, again, I was slightly underwhelmed. I'd be willing to put it down to perhaps we had bad seats and the acoustics weren't amazing, but they sounded a little wolfish and just somewhat less than perfection (bearing in mind, still 9th best...). Although full marks to the brass, and the silky brilliant solo trumpeter.

On the way back from the concert we came across a man on the Charles Bridge playing the New World Symphony on glasses played with water. That was, for better or worse, a more magical experience than the orchestra. Even though techically it's not even the same universe let alone ballpark, this guy was playing the glasses like I would never have imagined, and also putting his heart and soul into it...I was spellbound...until he finished and started playing the theme from Titanic. Well, I guess you gotta please the crowds when you're playing for tips...

On our last day we crammed a few things in that we'd missed earlier: we went to the musical instrument museum which I'd really recommend to any musicians visiting Prague (if only for the white baby grand with disco-mirror tiles). We saw (half of) the Lebkovitz Palace - the former home of a Bohemian prince, restored with all its contents to its family after the Velvet Revolution. It's a simple museum but they have some incredible treasures - like the original hand-written orchestral parts for Beethoven's 4th and 5th symphonies. Butter my bum and call me a biscuit - I did not expect that when I walked in the door! We also had a bit of a poke around the rest of the castle grounds and visited St Vitus' cathedral (which has some beautiful newer stained glass windows) and saw the changing of the guards ceremony. It was all pretty fun, and really enlightened me to how ridiculously old Prague is (the area has been settled since the paleolithic age).

Now we're in Amsterdam - reached by sleeper train direct from Prague, via Germany. I'm not sure mum totally enjoyed the experience, but I had a ball, although not a ball I'd care to repeat in a hurry. Something about sleeping in a moving vehicle, watching all the towns go by and the landscape change, having a nice young man bring me cups of tea and make my chair into a bed, seeing the lovely formulaic German train stations again, all really appealed to me.

tasting Czech chocolate.

Kofila: Chocolate filled with coffee ganache, but in a cheap kind of way...

Flint: unexpectedly like a slightly nicer Bounty

Lentilky: Czech smarties!

Fidorka: choc/hazlenut wafer.

Margot: chocolate covered milky-way consistency marzipan. Grossness incarnate.

Not pictured: bratwurst flavoured chips. Nice one!

Not pictured: Becherovka - a Czech herbal liquor. As yet untasted.

Not pictured: Pilsener Urquell - the first light coloured beer ever brewed. Bitterer than you'd expect and not so nice, really...

Not pictured: Nogger - the Czech golden gaytime! I wonder what it means...

coaxed into liking Italy after all.

To steal a Chandler-ism, could Padua BE any different to Venice? There's none of the big famous stuff to see, it's not on the water, it's not 95% beautiful. However, there are also less than a billion tourists, it doesn't smell, the shops sell stuff not rubbish, the food is good, and wait for it, people are actually NICE.

Case in point, the nicest person we came across on our last day in Venice was a lady working at the train station. We actually commented on how nice she was, and she earned this praise by the lofty acts of saying 'thankyou' after we handed over our money, and by smiling professionally as she did it. No more. By contrast, the nicest guy in Padua gave us free plums becuase we only wanted to buy two, not a whole bucket. The rudest person we met in Venice on our last day there bordered on aggression, all becuase I dared to ask if I could exchange a pair of gloves for a more expensive pair. By contrast the rudest person we met in Padua...well...I can't remember one.

Padua is an old city, and it certainly has its pretty bits, but I would not hurry there. However, my top tip for visiting Venice now is to stay in Padua. Sure it'd be cool to wake up next to a canal, but staying in Padua would be a lot cheaper and a LOT pleasanter, and in our case we were staying on the mainland anyway as we literally couldn't find a hotel room actually in Venice proper. The train to Venice from Padua is 20 minutes and they go about every half an hour. It's not rocket surgery, folks.

Anyway, we just visited for the day to get out of horrible Venice. We were deciding between Padua and Verona and in the end chose the former, even though Verona was probably cooler, becuase Padua is closer to Venice, and we figured it would be less touristy which was why we were getting out of Venice in the first place. Heavens to betsy that was a horrible sentence. Sorry. I'm not fixing it though since I've already written it and you've already read it.

We headed straight past Giotto's frescoes (which are apparently the main reason people visit Padua) although we did (literally) stick our heads through the door of the church with the less interesting ones. (The more interesting ones involve a 4 hour wait and an airlock.) We wandered past the old Roman amphitheatre and found ourselves in the city, where a bunch of just graduated medical students were playing the fool.

Padua has some amazing fruit markets which we explored a little, and then headed for lunch in a place the Loney Planet suggested (hurrah!) which had a really delicious bean/pasta soup which I'm going to look up in the big Italian nanna cookbook when I get home. We did a little window shopping and wandered past the Basilica of St Anthony and tried to find the Donatello statue of a cat which proved difficult as it turned out to be a statue of a man on a horse with a name resembling the Italian word for cat. Der. It was nice but very high up and it was a bit sunny to look at properly. We did however find the Piazza in Padua which is the largest in all of Italy - it was really beautiful, with a dual circumference of statues, a moat around the outside and a fountain on the inside. I would've gladly spent the afternoon napping on the lawn there but Ma was not up for that idea unfortunately, and oddly there are no cafes on the square which perhaps I could have coaxed her into. On we went to the botanical gardens which are the oldest in teh world. Unsurprisingly then, they are quite small but laid out really interestingly, having grown from a very formal medical garden. They have a giant palm tree that dates from 1585(!) which inspired Goethe to a poem. After this, we had a little more Grom gelato, thought about braving the post office but decided not to when we saw the line, and then headed back to the train for Venice.

All in all it was one of the underwhelming days that funnily enough seem to be exceedingly the most enjoyable.

overwhelmingly underwhelmed.

First impression of Venice? It stinks like the sewage they pour into the canals. After 3 days my impression has softened a little to concede that in parts it is quite pretty, but it is still not going down as the highlight of this trip.

The first day went awfully - everything that could've gone wrong did (with the possibly exeption that I didn't die of a stroke on the plane like I thought I would). The short story: 2 hours in the airport trying to get on the bus which we were overcharged for and yelled at about, mum nearly got locked in the luggage compartment under the bus, the toilet in the B&B overflowed, on our hostesses' advice we got stuck in tourist hell for a few hours, on the way home we got really lost from the bus and ended up stranded in the dark in a carpark on the side of a highway. Yes, that is the short version. Venetians are the rudest people I've ever come across, and I can literally count the number of people who've so much as smiled at us on one hand. They range from agressive (the really bad) to just plain sullen (the relatively good). To top it all off my camera has fully packed up and (all of a sudden) refuses to even turn on. I think maybe it's just Venice working its magic. Now I am using mum's for the rest of the trip, and all my photos are turning out grey and out of focus. Urgh.

Yesterday we got out of Venice proper after not enjoying our first day's taste of it. We visited the island of Murano which was basically the same only a bit better because it was less completely overrun by tourists. We had a nice lunch in the sun on the canalside, wandered through the pretty backstreets a little, and after seeing approximatly eleventy billion shops full of tack, managed to find some nice locally made perfume bottles.

Somewhere in there we also caught the waterbus around the grand canal at sunset which was admittedly rather magical, although somewhat marred by the old English lady who kept elbowing me in the head.

Today we tackled Venice again, but this time wandered around the further edges where everything was less touristy. (Notice I say 'less'. It's still mega-touristy, just not Christmas-eve-in-Rundle-Mall INSANE like the middle). We had a few points of reference to visit (a gelati shop, a glove shop, a bead shop, the shipyards) of which we managed to find two, although we didn't really get that lost, I maintain it was more that things weren't where they were supposed to be. Have I mentioned the complete rabbit warren that this place is? It's nutso, half the streets don't have names just numbers and I don't even know how the posties do it. The gelati shop was very nice, but no better than Cibo, and I did buy some extremely lovely soft leather gloves. We also had a super delicious lunch (even after our hostess helpfully told us 'there are no nice places to eat in Venice') - I had black pasta with prawns and roasted tomatoes with a rocket/garlic/oil sauce. Nom nom nom.

Actually this trip is making me realise exactly how influenced Australia is by Italian culture. In some ways I feel more at home here than I have anywhere else because so much feels familiar, and I also think that the migrants must've brought the best of their culture with them (and left the tools at home), becuase every lovely thing I've had has been comparable to the best I've had at home. I am talking about food here again, of course...

There are pretty parts of Venice - it is admittedly awesomely cool being in a city with water instead of roads, and no cars at all, and many of the buildings and views are ridiculously sweet, with the candystriped pole boat parking bays, the painted walls, and the rooftop gardens. However, it's dirty, stinky and the people are totally repulsive. The hidden corners are lovely, and I'm glad I've seen it, but on balance I'm not sure the visit is worth the grief.

Tomorrow we're getting out and going on a day trip - maybe to Padua. Hopefully that will be better.

ready to go back to Lisbon already...

Day 1:
This afternoon I had my shoes shone. (Shined?). Mum's been on at me to do it since she arrived, since my beautiful brown leather shoes are looking a bit scruffy, after 8 months of travelling-walking. I've been resisting, partly I suspect, out of sheer stubbornness, and as a throwback to the only kind of teenage rebellion I have ever really exhibited (can I hear a 'get a haircut' please?). But I think it's been mainly because there's a sort of pride to be taken in scruffy shoes, shoes that have obviously seen a lot of road, shoes that could tell a few stories if they had the talking kind of tongues, and I was loath to erase that, in the same way that an oenologist wouldn't dream of dusting his collection. Also, I'm a bit pedantic about my shoes, and I'd rather they got a bit scuffed, than treated with some shiny-making, nice-smelling, leather-killing chemical concoction.

But wandering through the city on our first afternoon here we came across an abandoned stool and brushes on the footpath, and at the same time I tried to surreptitiously take a picture of the open bar in the traffic island with a few old men standing around having a late afternoon beverage. I guess I wasn't that subtle, because one of them wandered over and somehow I was having my shoes cleaned. He spoke no English (although I suspect he understood a fair bit), but somewhere in the long-jump pit between that and my complete lack of Portuguese we understood each other.

'Can I take your picture while you're shining my shoes please?'
'No, you'll have to wait 5 minutes - I don't want you taking my picture while your shoes like this, I take pride in my work!'
'Um...fair enough...giggle...'.

It was definitely the best E2.50 I've spent all year, and not just because my shoes are looking better now than they did when they were new. This old man put on a great show - not a spectacle mind you - but he knew what he was doing, and did it well, cigarette firmly wedged in his shoe brush, at least when it wasn't in his mouth. I suspect he's not the most interesting guy in Europe, and certainly not the most beautiful, but (without being a complete middle-class twit, glorifying the working man blah blah) somehow he had more charm than almost anyone I've come across this year.

Why am I telling such a long story? Well, it's a metaphor for how I'm feeling about Lisbon right now. It's a pretty grubby city, and could use a serious bit of spit and polish itself, but somehow I like it here, I really really like it here. The weather's good, but not annoyingly straight-white-teeth, blonde hair perfect, and the people have been bend-over-backwards friendly, whether or not we speak the same language: our neighbour on the plane gave us a list of tips for things to see in Lisbon and made sure we got a good deal on a taxi; the taxi driver from the airport explained (in French) all the sights to us as we went past; the hotel receptionist suggested an itinerary for our few days here; the cafe waiter cracked a joke about how well we communicated despite the fact that I was forced to order in Portuguese (a language I literally speak 2 words of - the obligatory 'hello' and 'thankyou') because he spoke nothing but the native language; the Brazilian dinner waiter gave me his email address in case I ever visited his country and needed any tips. Jolly submarine yellow seems to be the colour of choice here, for everything from tablecloths to trams, and the tiling on all of the footpaths and some of the buildings makes me imagine the Moors who colonised this whole peninsula over a thousand years ago. The policemen drive around on glorified golf buggies and segways. Oh, and this is the home of the custard tart. What more could you ask?

Day 2:
Today didn't quite live up to day 1, but I suppose the wide-eyes couldn't last that long. This city built on 7 hills is gritty, and I have to keep reminding myself that the graffiti and grime, the people lolling about in the streets don't indicate dodginess like they would at home: Portugal has the lowest GDP per capita in western europe, but it's about 20 places ahead of Australia in the peacefulness stakes. Mum mentioned over coffee that she's been as relaxed here as she's gotten since leaving home - I think this is Lisbon. It's not very shiny, and there's no big 'must-see' destinations, but the people move more slowly, and there's more time to savour the sun and the matching yellow scenery.

This morning we hiked up to the Castelo de Sao Jorge - the old castle which dates from 6bc. It was a lovely tranquil spot, but I kept waiting for an actual building, rather than open ruins. Cue Tony Roinson. We wandered down through the muddled streets Alfama, historically the muslim area, and came across the starkly beautiful catholic cathedral halfway down. We wandered through to the Bairro Alto for a moroccan dinner and left rather quickly - I think it's the Hindley St of Lisbon, with all of the coolest shops, restaurants and bars, but with the same confronting first appearances. I suspect we won't go back, although I will always wonder what we might've missed.

The Portuguese language is still rolling around in my mouth and my head - it sounds nothing like I thought it did, but almost like Russian, and I can't understand the sounds of it beyond the numbers, although much of it looks familiar. It sounds less like Spanish than I expected, and in fact our crazy taxi driver told me 'the one thing you must know in Portugal - you must not mention the Spaniards!'. We haven't had any trouble getting around, and almost everyone speaks English, and of those who don't, a majority surprisingly speak French. Despite this, it grates that I am forced to follow 'olá' with '...um...do you speak English?'. I've been spoilt in Britain and France, and even Germany to a lesser extent; I utterly hate the feeling of being in a country where I speak and understand absolutely none of the language - I feel impolite, like a bad houseguest. Everyone, however, has been unfailingly friendly about it, and those who can't speak English just smile and nod at my awful attempts at menu pronounciation. Even that seems the way of life here: smile and nod and continue on with your day.

2nd and last day in Lisbon:
Right now I am in Venice and I have had the WORST day (good luck getting an Italian person to so much as smile at you!) so unfortunatley i'm not in a good writing mood, which is a shame because this lisbon post was going pretty well. But i've been so slack about these updates and i'm so behind that i thought it better to just get moving and finish it off.

So.

We navigated the post office, had lunch in a horrible tourist cafe, but made the most of it by ordereing the most random thing on the menu which was actually not bad - a banana and cheese toastie. We made a trip out to Belem and had the famous pasteis de belem - the portuguese custard tarts. These were incredibly and actually way better than at home, though essentially the same thing. The pastry was so flaky - almost like croissant pastry and almost burnt at the bottom making it all tasty-like. The custard was just set and still warm and you get little packs of sugar and cinnamon to sprinkle on top. So so yum. We bought 2 and then went back and joined the giant line for 6 more, they were so delicious. Whilst out there we also saw the monstery of jeronimos which was really lovely, and also had this great big timeline of the history of the monastery (over 600 years from memory) with another line showing the conurrent events in portugal and another with world events. It really taught me a lot about portuguese and world history in a very short time.

After heading back from Belem we went on a mad shopping trip to pick up a few things - i bougth a filigree peacock brooch which seems to be the thing to buy in portugal and up to this crazy shop we'd spotted earlier selling aprons. It was like something straight out of the 50s - kind of women's home goods, from babies clothes to deoderant to washing powder, and they had these awesome old cross over apron/pinnafore things like my mum's nanna (apparently) used to wear, and iv'e basically only seen on the crazy old italian ladies in my street (i think). Anyway i fully wanted one, and it was quite an experience finding the right size becuase the guy running the shop didnt speak anything but portuguese, but like everyone else in lisbon was so super friendly and between his portuguese and my franglais and a heap of smiling and laughing nodding and hand gestures and guessing we walked out with a couple of nanna aprons. What a souvenier! Then we went up the crazy lift from 1906 that lets you see over the city and had dinner where I *encouraged* mum to have the sardines which she enjoyed eating and i enjoyed watching because they had bones and heads.

Anyway, in conclusion Lisbon was excellent. I liked it as a city, but for me more importantly it really reinforced that all the cool attractions in the world are less important than friendly happy people, a lesson i'm unfortunately re-learning from the other angle here in Venice. Ah well, easy-come, easy-go...

(PS. sorry about my horrible spelling, punctuation etc etc blah. I amm very tired).

enjoying being a tourist more than a local.

What do I have to say about Paris that hasn't been said before? Well, probably nothing that hasn't been said before by at least one other person, somewhere, somehow, but maybe I have something to say that at least hasn't been said by me.

I wasn't really looking forward to coming back to Paris given my negative experience living there, but I was happy to come back because I knew it was somewhere mum really wanted to see. What I certainly wasn't expecting was to actually find myself on arrival with a feeling of returning home. I actually felt like I was showing Mum around my hometown, which I suppose I was in a way, since it was the first place I was really forced to strike out on my own, and although I certainly don't know the place as well as i know, say, the Australian national anthem (ahem...), I got a real kick out of being able to navigate the metro effortlessly, being able to walk around at least certain areas without reference to a map, being able to point out monuments and places with certainty, and knowing where they lie in relation to the whole.

I also remembered how I used to eat there in courses - salad for dinner, and then 7 tiny desserts: cheese, yoghurt, fruit, mousse, chocolate. It sounds nuts, but it actually ends up being quite light and balanced as it's like an inverse pyramid.

It was also really gratifying to be in a country where I could communicate with everyone, and have a sense of achievement about it. I am really enthused now to go home and continue improving my French, as well as maybe to pick up another language or two, whereas when I left 'for good' I just felt burnt out and frustrated. This time I got a real sense of exactly how quickly my brain is taking in new information in that language now - would anyone like to know the word for 'waterproofing spray'? Anyone? I not only learnt it but also retained it.

I always said that Paris is a better place to visit than to live. I think I proved this true by having a much better time as a tourist than I ever did as a local. And in fact, the only horrible moments we experienced this time around were navigating 'living' issues rather than 'visiting' issues (hello, landlords!). And this time around I got to see almost all of the things I regret missing out on the first time - although of course in a city as big as Paris there's always more to see and do.

I left this time feeling that I'd actually benefitted from my time there, and although I don't feel the need to go again, if I do it'll be like visiting an old (if somewhat cantankerous) friend.

coping better now she has internet again.

Right. So I've been internetless for the past couple of weeks, and before that I was very lazy about actually writing something about my sporadic 3 weeks in London/Oxford/Stratford/Paris. So in an attempt to catch myself up I'm listing everything that I can remember that I've done, and I'll actually write about it all hopefully at some point when I have time.

London:

When at Gus':

• Portobello Road Markets
• Walked through Hyde Park from Oxford St
• Italian dinner with Gus
  

At Nhan's:

• Chachamoon cheapo Asian dinner with Nhan & Sim, bar afterwards
• Visit to Shoreditch for painting, magic sparkly cupcake
  
• Day at Grenwich: through tunnel under the Thames, cool coffee shop/record shop, danced on the Meridian, John Harrison's Clock (tiny compared to earlier attempts - like a big fob watch), laksa in chinatown
• Crazy broth making with Nhan
• Walk with Emma through oxford circus, leicester square, the river, westminter abbey, coffee
• Coffee with Sarah, visit to Harrods, laduree macarons and Maison du chocolat freebies, wandered kensington, asian dinner
• Noel Coward show with jonny and emma ('brief encounter')
• Indian dinner with Gus
• Primark experience with Nhan
• More broth with Nhan (sour cabbage soup), ice/coffee
• Big day: Camden markets (gumboots), burrough markets (wild boar sausage sandwich, fancy coffee, lovely gelati [bergamot and something pink]), columbia road again, spittlefields markets (closed), bricklane for overpriced indian meal and desserts, Sim's house for sex & the city dvd with Jac.
• Colunbia rd again - finally bought print. Peche mignon again (yum), notting hill with school friends - gail's for coffee and flocked wallpaper. Lamb shish kebab and delicious grilled haloumi for dinner, gok wam on telly
• Walked from notting hill to nelson's column for dinner with emily from primary school - wahaca mehican, and south african cider
• Merry Wives of Windsor, queeen's walk, big ben.

To Edinburgh (previously covered).

Back to London:

• Catch up with school friends - more yummy mexican.
• Tate Modern
• Brunch with alice - fancy yummy
• Catch up Sarah again

With mum

• Peche mignon for lunch
• Big walk: london bridge tube, burrough markets (closed), globe tickets, tate modern 5th floor iew, blackfriars bridge, st brides fleet st (publishing exhibition basement and roman walls), the strand (crazy monument with dragon, royal courts of justice, fancy bank), st pauls

To Oxford:

• wandered around the high st
• museum of natural history
  
• lunch with J&E at the vault, & coffee at the place
  
• history of science museum (eintein's blackboard)
  
• magdalen college
• exeter colege
• beer at the tarp
• dinner at the eagle and child

Daytrip to Stratford-upon-Avon:

• coffee with sarah
• holy trinity church (shakespeae'res burial)
• river walk
• lunch @ courtyard
• shakespeare's birthplace house
• more fancy cheese from the nice place
  
• high street
• new coat
• drink at the dirty duck (actors' photos)

Back to Oxford:

• Blackwells bookshop
• Bodleian tour
• Lunch J&E in covered markets (salad)
• Coffee
• Blenheim Palace (marlboroughs, spencer-churchills), fancy gardens

Back to London:

• Tower of London (crown jewels, murdered princes)
• Westminster Abbey service (Victoria piece)
• South bank, dinner wagammama
• Portobello Rd markets (shut), new shoes, notting hill
• Globe - Merry wives again - got to stand in the middle
• Nhan - chachamoon cheapo asian
• Carnaby st, liberty shop, apple shop, dad's shoes
  
• Kew Gardens
• Buckinham palace tour, banquet setting, royal icecream
  
• walk to big ben, downing st, nelson's column, whitehall, oxford st, new suitcase

To Paris:

• Big walk around Marais, Notre Dame, the islands
• Met Sasha: hotel de ville, pain au chocolat et banane, walk around islands (little pointy garden), falafel lunch, walk to les halles, st eustache, rue montorgeuil, past the louvre, up champs elysees, laduree macarons, past arc de triomph, through my old neighbourhood, strawberries, noisette, tube home. Picnic dinner with french 5 part dessert: 2 cheeses, bonne maman yoghurt, chestnut mousse, chocolate, nuts.
• corned beef sandwiches from the place opposite L'as du falafel, bought magic shoes, did this massive walk from Sacre Coeur down to the Mosque for mint tea, via Montmartre, a lovely lolly shop, cute arcades (one just for old stamps and postcards), the Palais Royale gardens, the Louvre courtyard, the pont des ARts, the Institute Francaise, teh 6th, a 2nd century amphitheatre (with men playing boules).
  
• Champs Elysees, dealt with bank (hurrah!), my old neighbourhood, went to resto on near Courcelles (good potato gratin), sat down for Marriage Freres cup of tea. I had white tea with agrumes in a pretty glass teapot and an extra pot for hot water. Went home early as I was coming down with a cold.
• Louvre, then the Bon Marche, Mamie Gateau for cake and Cuisine de Bar for lunch. Still sick.
  
• Went to Versailles - a billion tourists. Opulent inside, nicer gardesn. Quick trip to Musee d'Orsay.
  
• Orangerie, Amorino gelati, Berthillon sorbet (2x), antique musical instruments shop (rue du pont louis-phillipe), Sainte-Chapelle, more falafel, Notre Dame treasury, picnic in Champs de Mars (proper champagne) and blue Eiffel tower.
  

Caught up. Sorry it's a bit pants. Something with actual content coming soon. I hope.