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Showing posts from July, 2017

On one year

In 2009, I returned to Australia after my first time living in the UK. I was ready to leave London, ready to be back home in my beloved Melbourne. The pain of being parted from my parents and sister had been too much to bear. As had the woeful weather, the life-crippling salary and the constant battle with eight million other people. As much as I had enjoyed most of my time in Bath and London, February of 2009 was bitterly cold with a snow blizzard blanketing the city the day before I was due to fly out. I went to bed that night hoping my flight would not be cancelled. I was done with England. Or, at least, I thought I was.
It would be some years before I felt ready to return to the UK. Which I did, in 2013, on a three-week holiday. As soon as I touched down after that exhausting flight, I knew I had been wrong to stay away for so long. As I rode the Heathrow Express to Paddington Station, I revelled in how familiar everything was. When I arrived at Paddington, goose bumps covered my e…

On strawberries and screen and a new doctor

Sporting events and me? Not so much.
Sporting events, me and a jug of PIMM’s? Sounding a bit better.
Sporting events, me, a jug of PIMM’s and Roger Federer? I’m listening.
Sporting events, me, a jug of PIMM’s, Roger Federer and an announcement for the new Doctor? SOLD! Sporting events, me, a jug of PIMM’s, Roger Federer, an announcement for the new Doctor and finding out the new Doctor will be played by a woman? GET. OUT. SIGN ME UP. AM I IN HEAVEN?!?!
Big cities and big-ticket events go hand-in-hand. Melbourne in summer is all about the tennis and Grand Prix and music festivals, night markets and I can go on. But I must admit, the events during winter always made me more excited. Winter in Melbourne is the time when you spend hours going through the Melbourne International Film Festival (MIFF) guide, promising yourself you’ll only see five films and end up seeing at least ten. It’s the time when the NGV pulls out all the stops for their Winter Masters, leaving you equally awed and an…

On walking (a bit) of Hadrian’s Wall

There was a time, in what feels like another life, when I strapped a 15-kilo pack to my back and hiked across the Victorian rangers, ending at beach with glistening water and blinding white sand. It lasted thirty-three days and I took exactly two showers.
<pause for a shout-out to any fellow trekkers reading and remembering>
It was a time that I had no desire to recreate. Why be in the outdoors when you can be indoors? Why put all your belongings in a bag on your back when you can keep them in a house? Why eat dehydrated food when you can eat ANYTHING ELSE?!
But then ahem years went by and I began to think that the outdoors wasn’t so bad after all. And besides, if you can keep your backpack to a respectable size and weight, it’s almost an enjoyable way to carry around one’s personal effects. And so I turned my sights to investigating rambling walks in the UK. As regular readers will know, it was barely two weeks after landing that I embarked on my first such walk. So delightful! S…

On (not) Wednesdays