Christmas strikes again

Banter on the flight to Lanka,
before the hysterics started...

The ‘Air Asia’ logo looks back at me as we sit waiting for the plane to refuel so that we can jet off to sweet home Sri Lanka, via Male the capital of the Maldives. It’s Boxing Day and no one’s really ‘with it’ just yet. I stumbled in with J at 4am, giving us approximately 3 hours before the shrill piece of cake compared to the UK. Opening your eyes from under a heavy 50tog duvet, the ringing of that annoying alarm you’ve been conditioned to associate with wake-mode and just… darkness. It has to be done fast, like ripping of a plaster, you know the hairs are going to be pulled out regardless, why make the process slower than it needs to be? The alarm rang and it was time to up and go/ moan and deliriously pack my bag that was brimming over with piles of crumpled up clothes – organised mess I like to call it, something a fair few students/ teenagers seem to understand. I wiped the sleepy dust out of my eyes, dad had already given us the wake up call but I knew my alarm would give me another 15 minutes. I could never really understand the concept of being able to ‘chill out’ when you know you only have a few minutes left… I get that bodily sensation of every cell pumping itself up until I can’t take it anymore and my legs swing themselves around until I’m standing vertical on the floor, having transitioned away from peaceful slumber and a comfy bed. Waking up in Asia is a

A lovely catch up at KLCC with H and K <3

A and I <3

I arrived in Malaysia to the warmth and sunshine just over a week ago, how time flies eh? – If I got a pound for every time I said that I’d be a rich girl. Despite the short time, I feel like I’ve covered most bases. Getting back into the humid rush of the tropics, emotions running rampant and jet lag greeting you in waves. Seeing family and being the ‘child’ again after having had complete independence – not having to do all your washing up or share cupboards or fridge space, having your clothes washed for free and family dinners! Clicking with old friends after years of no contact and feeling like you’ve all just returned from a very dense spring break. How do you catch someone up on what’s been happening for the last 2 years of your life? Is it the bad times that stand out, the magical moments, the spiritual awakenings or just the present state of being? I like asking people how they are at the time because that’s all that really matters, of course the experiences and the stories are what got us to this point, but we all have so many and why waste energy dwelling in the past, when it’s the moment you have together that makes another story for the next person. Walking through pavilion with red eyes at midnight, indulging in rich, creamy ice cream, lunch with H & K - 2 old friends from The Overseas School of Colombo/ Sri Lanka who I share a 3 – year catch up with whenever we’re in the same place, shisha time, pool sesh’s, delicious meals out, beer towers, swims, yoga, presents, Malaysian grass and booze.

Christmas morning came around and we cuddled up in dad’s bed to open our stockings, which were hilarious. You know your brother’s reached puberty when he starts pulling out face wash, deo and blemish sticks. I on the other hand got chocolates, lingerie and… a grinder? Love you Santa.

KL crew's first night out :)

The first night I was back I saw J again, after 6 months of long distance, having been through the hardships of longing and lusting we finally got to experience the initial moment of locking eyes, without having to be on Skype. Feeling that familiar, overwhelmed, ecstatic and confused sensation all in one go, do you kiss or hug or talk?! My eyes streamed and heart pounded as we embraced for the first time in too long and just held on as tight as possible for a while, wondering whether it was real or not. The last time we’d seen each other was 6 months ago in that very spot. It felt like the time that had lapsed had been a different slice of life– I’d lived mine in Bristol and he’d lived his in Aus, different people, different experiences and yet here we both were, back at square one, something we understood together again. Do you know the theory that we exist in multiple universes simultaneously as the same person, but in infinite possible situations. Like the butterfly effect, when one tiny thing changes, the rest of the story does too – if every single possibility was to happen at once, our reality now/ perception of what we see is one of those possibilities because of the way the human mind has learned to conceptualise time and space. We think of time as linear and progressive, when in actuality it’s one point in space and that point symbolizes everything that’s happening at once, hence the importance of ‘presence’. We spend so much time planning our future or worrying about our past, but if we died in 2 minutes, none of those thoughts would be significant if we hadn’t taken the time to live those 120 seconds to their fullest – YOLO I believe is the expression? Haha, sorry…

Before I boarded the plane in London, I wondered whether I’d run into anyone. It’s quite cool that as International kids we could be in any airport anywhere in the world and still see someone we recognize or know, standing right next to us. M from Alice Smith was on my flight so we chatted and caught up, the general theme being that going home was something everyone was craving. It’s interesting seeing how everyone’s taking Uni, A lot of people seem to take a while to find their feet, including me. You’re thrust out of this spoon fed, easy going bubble of fun, expat living, cheap food, taxis, free drinks, great clubs, shitty music… to independence, bills, cold weather, reality. Of course that’s slightly cynical and there’s a lot more to it than that, a lot that’s beautiful and life changing and fun. But for the sake of argument, it’s a big shift that involves big emotional turnovers leading to this suffering in the form of disorders, drugs or disease. My heart goes out to all those having a hard time <3

On the other (slightly less depressing) hand, it’s great hearing stories from those that are loving life. R’s living it up in Sweden surrounded by beautiful, blue eyed blondes, C ‘s experiencing her love for Bushduf’s in Aus and H has her head firmly on her shoulders with a great group of friends in Holland. It’s also great being able to give that experience to each other – a drunken night out on Changkat full of laughs and dancing, being 19 and walking into our old hang out spots while you feel the evil eyes of 14 year olds wondering who you are and what you’re doing in their space… as you look back wondering how old they are and remembering the days when we were them. A meal at 3am at Nasi Kandar where the common favorite is roti Cannai and Milo ice, £2 for something that takes 5 minutes top to inhale.

Family at christmas

Last night after a huge Christmas dinner of turkey, duck, roast potatoes & all the trimmings, a stodgy Christmas pudding, apple crumble, minced pies and large glasses of baileys, R and I were planning on finding someone to rub our tummy’s for a bit before we became mobile enough to walk/ go out. We held our food babies and reveled in the satiation of stuffed-ness. You know food comas are a real thing right? As you’re eating your body releases dopamine, a hormone responsible for states of excitement, ecstasy, happiness, that’s followed by the slow release of serotonin and melatonin – the hormones released when one goes to sleep hence why you feel sleepy after a meal. The Spanish have it right with siestas – when I bought that up over summer my cousin suggested that that’s the reason things don’t get done fast enough there contributing to why they’re in such a bad way, economically. I can’t imagine London chilling out enough to stop everything and sleep for a few hours after lunch; you can’t even walk slowly in London without feeling out of place. A nap?! Pshh. If only.

Jack and Jill :)

So with our full bellies, my red drunken face and a Christmas spirit, we took the bus to KLCC and walked over to Changkat to have a couple of happy hour drinks with the upbeat Aussies J and J. Joined later by other friends we moved from one bar to the next, from Sambuca to long islands to beer to cider. We sat in ‘fish n chips’ a bar down the road, with the first man sitting down ironically chowing down a plate of fish and chips – good advertising. J got up to break the seal and came back chucking a live lobster on the table that crawled around frantically as we all stared in amazement at what had just interrupted our conversation. ‘Cannot lah! Cannot!’ the waitress squealed as she looked over our shoulders at the live sea creature, pulling The chef out of the kitchen after a few minutes, to put the little guy back in his tank. Causing more trouble J and J disappeared for a bit to say hi to a few other friends at another nearby bar, Healy Macs. We soon ran into them, ripped Calvin Klein shirt, hyper demeanor and wide eyes at having sprinted away from a bouncer that had obviously woken up on the wrong side of the bed and hurled a few punches before realizing he wasn’t going to get them. We thought we’d get out pronto so off to J’s hotel we drove, clambering up to the rooftop to spin around in awe at the panorama of KL on Christmas night. The orangey glow of city lights added warmth to the scattered skyscrapers. We lit up and exhaled, talk going from small to medium to deep deep down into the depths of the ocean. Enigma codes, fractals, human perception, the creation of math, 3D printers AH brain-ache. I sat hours later on the same side of the table as R facing the fluorescent, empty hallway of lights and sipping on a Milo panas (hot chocolate) just absorbing our flow.

Bright and early on xmas morning

Christmas night <3

Time was ticking, 8 days had already gone by, I still hadn’t packed, showered, been home or hydrated
after our night of drinking, I could almost hear my alarm going off already, ugh get us home! We all hugged tight and said our indefinite goodbyes to each other, getting into a RM10 taxi for my last ride home in however long it would be. It’s a scary thought not knowing what the future holds isn’t it? But at the same time, like the ‘simultaneously infinite existences’ that I mentioned earlier, there are also infinite possibilities of what might happen in our future so we can only really flow with it and see where it takes us. Right now I’m being taken back home to the country I lived in for the longest, to stay in our friends fairytale wooden/ glass house in the rubber plantations, a hippy eco-village for New Year, a dive and surf in backpacker central/ Hikkaduwa and some family/ friend time at good old Galle fort. How I miss it so. Merry Christmas everyone, live up the last few weeks of 2013 before the post-crimbo diets begin ;)

Recipe of the day: Christmas Pud
http://www.deliaonline.com/recipes/cuisine/european/english/traditional-christmas-pudding.html

Shutting the suitcase

Obi-1-konobi

My fairy lights add a warm glow to the old white walls of my new bedroom; a light pink rose garland is strewn across my desk and Marilyn Munroe winks seductively at me with her scarlet red lips next to Einstein's multicoloured 'imagination' poster.. To the left Bob & The Rolling Stones exhale a sexy breath of smoke that finds its way around the crystals on my (broken) fireplace, add a hippie sarong or two a touch and a delicacy is born. I've just moved into my first house! Built in the 1800’s, 5 bedrooms, a little garden and a shed soon-to-be converted, I’ve found my home for the next year. The characteristics of the house are what make it cozy; a lovely stained glass window welcomes you at the entrance and little detailed carvings on the edges of the doors catch your eye as you walk through. It’s the first time I’m not living out of a suitcase in a long while and although travelling gives you a sense of liberation from order and routine, having structure return is invigorating. One room-mate N has already moved in and we get along like a house on fire, the rest of the girls are to come gradually over the next few weeks, allowing the family to grow and the house to become a home – though the process wasn't easy, the product was worth it.

N & I had our first night out in Briz on Saturday with old friends from KL and their house mates.

Getting lost - Pre’s – underground raves – deep house – new friends – Bristonian accents – steep hills – chilly nights – warm onesies. On our way home before we the 'lost' part happened, we somehow bagged ourselves a free taxi ride with a sweet lady going in our direction and a frantic 19 year old that was on the run from a gang of boisterous youth. We got a mouthful of the town and its music in one night and fell asleep under warm duvet’s with smiles on our faces. Getting lost in this City is something I anticipated but the hilly roads, was not. If you have time to explore, getting lost is no burden, it gives you a chance to take in the multi-coloured houses, quaint cafes, scattered posters advertising gigs, vintage/ charity shops, restaurants – it never ends. Take London, shrink it, add an influx of rastas, hippies, wind and posters, raise some of the roads and add a farmers twang to the accent… and you've got Bristol. I feel really lucky to have moved from London to Bristol and not the other way around, as from what I've heard it can be a rather overwhelming experience.

First night in the hoouse

A shit picture but the clearest rainbow I've ever seen

London was great while it lasted, once you've got a knack of where to go, who to go with and how to get there it’s a wicked city. I changed charities due to ethical reasons and ended up working as a fundraiser for ‘Care International’ - it was an enlightening experience indeed. Every day you were posted in a different part of London/ England with different members of the amazing campaign group P2P. We’d meet, travel, change and disperse for the next few hours, trying to get as many sign-ups as possible and reach our target (10 a week). If you got over, you’d get a bonus, if you got consistently under, you’d most likely be fired. Fundraising involved thick skin, a big & enthusiastic personality and a strong sense of willpower; hence most fundraisers ended up being boys for one reason or another (I think it’s because they had more of an upper hand when dealing with abuse). The abuse was not something I expected; racist, ignorant, screwed up and untrusting people – you’re interacting with every member of the public so you see and respond to it all.
Fundraising in poor areas was never fun, if people couldn’t even afford to pay their rent or buy their kids cereal for the day. Those were the people I felt most inclined to talk to, as giving a bit of your energy to someone who just wants to be listened to, feels far more beneficial than getting their bank details because they like… your legs? I guess that’s a plus too. It was interesting watching the guys on my team sign up girl after girl who fell into their flirtatious traps, and realizing, that’s what a lot of sales is about – attracting someone to the product, yes. But you have to get their attention first right? So girls usually sign up boys and vice versa.

M and I <3

There were a few interesting experiences, watching the mentally ill man rock back and forth on a wooden park bench nearby. His eyebrows would rise up and down in an anxious fashion, almost in time to the light pattering of the pigeons feet that held up the fragile grey bird frantically pecking for crumbs in front of him. We continued with our day and at the very end while we were packing up, he made his entrance. Standing in front of us he took his position and shouted ‘You all make me sick! I’m part of the council and we all agree you should f**k your mothers and go to hell etc etc etc’. Woah! What a long order. We looked at him and smiled with compassion, the boys put their hats to their chest ‘have a good day sir J’.

10 years on

As you walk past another person do you ever get that uncomfortable feeling of ‘what do I do?’ Are they far enough away for me to smile at them, do I say something or make eye contact? Watching children go through this thought process is really interesting. Mums and dads rush past me as their kids are the ones that want to talk and interact. ‘Come on!’ Sorry we don’t have time’ she brushes past me with 3 kids on tow, they look back at me and smile, not fazed by the rush but caught in the daze of the grown-ups busy afternoon. ‘I want to give to charity!’ The little girl turns and shouts to me. I love that pure compassionate intention that’s so common in children; of course, kids are shielded from half of what charity’s become, and what money means now but that’s not the point..

So charity work was good hours with good people and good pay. Inbetween was social time. A weekend in South London at a beautifully modern 7 bedroom house that belonged to M’s godmother. M and I had grown up together in Sri Lanka and hadn’t seen each other in years. It’s funny looking into someone’s eyes when you’ve known them for so long. Seeing stories rush back at you that had been tucked away in the back of a room and taken over by spi

ders and cobwebs. So we spent a luxurious weekend opening pandora’s box of memories with the scent of flowers wafting through the air. Another glass of nostalgia was enjoyed in Gordons Wine Bar with B. over a platter of French cheese. As though catapulted through time, my last night had arrived – I invited over those 5 special friends and we sat on the trampoline and chatted, laughed and drank, with a duvet to keep us warm. Leaving that morning did not go as smoothly as anticipated, I got my train times wrong and proceeded to run around London with the heaviest bags I have ever carried and no right hand man to help me out. I felt less sorry for myself when I arrived huffing and puffing into my carriage on the train to Tisbury. A man in a wheelchair rolled over my feet as he tried patiently to maneuver himself into a good position, an 80+ year old sat next to me uttering dry complaints about the weather and then to top it off a pregnant woman with her 2 year old ran in flustered about having just left her whole handbag in the coffee shop. What a funny bunch of people we were.

Living in the clouds

 A yummy lunch at Aunty M’s, a speedy drive into Bristol and a manic Ikea shop. I stood still and just took in where I was, this had been a long time coming. Fairy lights up, music on, friends over – a good first night in Bristol and my own bed to snuggle into, I can feel a good year coming on.

Recipe: Vegetable curry

http://www.bbcgoodfood.com/recipes/3084674/pea-and-new-potato-curry

We wave with a smile

Our lovely crew

As I sit on our little mini van basking in the Laotian sun that proves quite a contrast from the cold misty weather of Sapa, the northern most point of Vietnam, I smirk at how different the cultures of the east and west really are. The locals wait patiently as we sit and moan about how long it will take to get going again, we've been on the road since 7pm Wednesday and its now 1pm Thursday. In Asia things don't run in a logical manner.. meeting up at 10 usually means 10.30 give or take .. in psychology we call it Confucian dynamism, in the east they think short term whereas in the west it's the opposite, an easy example being escalators.. in London you stand to the right, in Malaysia you stand, everywhere. the easiest way of adapting is to just go with the flow of things and not let it get to you, or you just end up an angry foreigner that just provides more entertainment for the locals, and more frustration for us.

The charm can be shown through the youth too..

Today's been eventful already, we've haggled our way through immigration (arriving just before my visa expired).. Paying all the 'additional' fees for stamps, visas, passport photo's etc. I laughed as I watched an Israeli and a Korean bartering over the rates for money exchange from Vietnamese Dong to Laotian Kip.. Yesterday I remember opening my money bag (that I thankfully still have) and feeling the stress of being down to my last 3000 dong, equivalent to less than $1 :s. that's what makes travelling with a group helpful, borrowing a few pennies here and there in the most dire of times. So we're down one (Jd#2), the musical, vegetarian dentist with the Jew fro that added light and laughs to the group, the dynamic ever-changing. 

Since my last post a lot has gone down, this time it's been slightly less 'fear and loathing in Vietnam' as my dad described it. We left Hanoi, bellowing out 'Adele' with a heavy heart.. And began our adventures in 'Cat Ba', the island adjacent to Halong bay. Our first dinner didn't prove to be too successful as they managed to get everyone's order wrong, despite pointing to the 'Vietnamese writing on the menu. So we resorted to banana pancakes at one of the 3 other restaurants on the strip. That night the boys got their drink on and we listened to the Welshies trying to say the longest city in Wales 'Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch' Give it a go, it's not easy even for a Welshman. The next morning was an early start, well 9am but still, we're teenagers. J and I were the only ones to set our alarm so hung around for the crew to prepare themselves for a day of motor biking to the national park. After breaky and fixing our faulty helmets by tying the straps together with pink ribbon, we were off. B's exhaust pipe coughing out clouds of smoke into anyone trapped behind him turned into a mission as we overtook, lagged behind and continued the cycle until we got stuck behind a local bus that made the exhaust seem like a breath of fresh air. We arrived and our fitness levels were put to the test as we hiked up, up and up to the peaks of the national park.. The smokers of the group puffing away in regret. We finally reached the top, climbing up a rusty piece of construction that read on a sign board 'Danger no climbing' (woops) but the thrill of the landscape was indescribable. We climbed down the rusty stairs and puffed some flower fumes before listening to Angus and Julia stone's 'big jet plane' that we felt was appropriate for the scene as our minds flew high above the mountains of Cat Ba; the misty weather adding to the surrealism of it all. Jn. Gave a few of us a geography lesson using palm leaves to teach us how Britain was divided.. Something I felt I should know being part British.. Well by blood. We descended and got back on our bikes to find a spot to eat. Hearing a yelp on the way and turning to see a dog fly across the road as b. had accidentally swerved the wrong way and hit it straight on.. The shock passing through us all in waves until the view took over again. We stopped to admire the beach at a little cove and take a few group snaps before a delicious dinner and drinks on our rooftop. J. And I had our own room with 2 double beds and an en-suite bathroom for the first time, for a 'hefty' fee of $4.50 each a night that sent thrills through us both.

J and I

The next day was Feb. 14th so we all had a lie in for the first time. And after the girls were ready and the boys were fed up of waiting for us, we had a group breakfast and discussed the days plans of kayaking through the caves that are meant to be one of the 7 wonders of the world. We'd organised a game of 'Secret Valentine', similar to 'Secret Santa' and guaranteeing everyone a Valentine and a pressie, with the budget of $1 each. I had Jd. #2., the one whom I described earlier, and decided to get him a cucumber (veg), toothpaste (dentist) and chocolate (love), with a printed photo of our crew from the day before. Asking for a cucumber proved to be ridiculously hard as making a phallic shape with my hands didn't get me the right responses.. But I eventually found one. The next step being to find a printer; this mission resulted in meeting the entire population of Cat Ba as everyone's printers were broken or ink-less; but hours later my mission was complete and we all conjugated for lunch to exchange pressies.. Everyone's was creative and funny with a few exceptions. As we waited for the food our 'Stomp' sessions began and we used chopsticks, cutlery and bottles to create (what we thought) was a harmonious orchestra of sound.. We went to buy bottles of water after lunch and my tummy churned at the thought of them re-filling the mineral water bottles with tap water and just re-sealing the lid.. And we wonder why everyone keeps getting tummy aches. Items on the menu cause the same reaction.. Ostrich, hedgehog, crocodile, turtle, you name it, it's there. I'd try a lot of it but ethically that's not what they're bred for so it's not really OK  It also helps knowing what 'cat' and 'dog' is on the menu to prevent mishaps (after speaking to a friend that lives in Hanoi and finding out that her 'well fed' cat dissapeared only to be found on someone's plate hours later sent chills down my spine :s).

Our makeshift cover for the secret valentine pressies

We then proceeded to have the best valentines night so far, creating our own little rave on our rooftop bar. I began with J and Jd#2, having a deep and meaningful on our views on love and marriage, with strong and opposite opinions on both sides, building up a realization that  the belief system of marriage is partly based off of the insecurity that without the papers, the legal benefits don't present themselves, and there's a fear that the other person won't stick around forever because they're not legally bound to. But that's for another time.

The 'long' boat ride back to Hanoi

Valentines night

We left the convo and joined the rave, 'ring of fire' our notorious drinking game took off.. And before long, clothes were off, tables were broken, the elevator stunk of urine and the managers son was bawling his eyes out because a couple had broken into the shrine room for a quickie (it wasn't us, don't judge). As one of our group sayings go, 'shit escalated, drastically'. The morning rush was hectic, drunken stumbling to breakfast, to pay for the damage, pack and jump in the bus to take us on our 'boat cruise' to Hanoi. We jammed on the front of the boat, with the huge limestone formations (one of the natural wonders of the world) protruding out of the water on either side of us. T and Jd#1 knocking back Saigon beers at 9am to deny their hangover. We learnt not to expect anything from 'good boat deals' as the short cruise (that we'd expected to take us at least 3/4 of the way) landed us in a tiny mini- van with our luggage on our laps, for 6 hours to Hanoi,  as it rained cats and dogs outside the window. 'ALL DAY BABY, ALL DAY', 'FOR THE BOYS' and 'THIS IS FUCKING AWESOME' was all you could hear from the non-stop energetic and quite pissed Jd#1 sitting at the back of the bus. I could only laugh as Jd#2 became more and more irritated as the hours passed and 'full volume' on his ipod no longer blocked out the sound.

We arrived back in Hanoi eventually, reclaiming our passports in relief and being greeted by familiar faces on the 5th floor, our hang-out spot. I finally managed to buy some fake A&F flip flops and later joined the group, turning around to see a familiar tipsy 16 year old who I'd coincidentally lived in India, KL and Lanka with... 'It's a small world after all' ringing truer and truer. We bar hopped for free promo cocktails and landed ourselves in a club at 11.30pm. When the witching hour arrived (12pm) and the police did their rounds, the music stopped and all of the drunken dancers crouched low to the ground in silence as they passed before the volume was revved up again. The end of the night required a kebab pit-stop.. Conveniently situated right in front of the hostel and proving to be quite successful as the prices had risen by 50% in a week. We stumbled into the dorms singing out our catchphrases to the 2 members that hadn't come out, before the growls got too intense and we happily passed out under clean sheets.

Above the clouds

The next day we explored Hanoi and the boys went to the gym (ha). The rudeness of the Vietnamese was exemplified as I was pushed out of a shop with a bamboo stick and rammed in the foot with a motorbike because he was too impatient to wait for me to move. Juices and kebabs lifted the mood and then synchronicity took place as we went back to our hostel and engaged in interesting conversation. With perspectives from a physicist,  a mathematician, a yogi and a historian we understood how the root subjects all explain every aspect of the world from a different perspective, the details are too complex for writing but I'm sure everyone can relate. When our brains were exhausted, 'Looper' was the chosen film on the big screen, so we all dossed on bean bags before our 'last supper' as a group of 10, at the Indian restaurant nearby. Cutting it close to catching our 12 hour sleeping bus to Sapa, the hill country of Vietnam. On the bus 2 of our boys graciously gave up their seats for 2 girls and slept on the hard floor under feet and snores, with no signs of gratitude from the girls.. But they survived the ride, tired and grumpy.

Sapa greeted us with a spectacular view, the hotel we dropped our luggage at was above the white puffy clouds, the sun shining on the mountain peaks. I zipped up my hoodie, pulled on my backpack and we made our way to the breakfast buffet that awaited us as part of the package that we'd paid for. A couple we met at breakfast was telling us how lucky we were that the sun was out as they'd experienced a 3 day trek of mist and rain. We counted our blessings and sat down to relax before our full-on day of trekking. After hot showers and clean clothes we met our tour guide, Linh. She was about half my height and dressed in traditional Vietnamese clothing, beautifully embroided, with various colours that only the women wear, mostly stemming from indigo that comes from a specific plant that we were later shown on our trek. It took her a year to make 4 pieces of clothing for both her and her husband, all made out of hemp (the male marijuana plant), hence it's durability made the making-process worth the time. We chewed on sugar cane as we made our way downhill through the mountainous villages, walking alongside the traditional-dressed women to Linh's house. We all sat in her one-roomed house and discussed her daily life. The simplicity astounded me, she had a little stove in one corner, a simple bed in the other, a few wooden stools and pots and pans. Yet her level of content soared above most people I know, her eyes lighting up as her sweet 2 year old son ran around in circles as she told her stories. There was raw meat hanging off a hook on one side of the house that captured my attention. Apparently they leave raw pork to go rancid before using it to heal cuts/ wounds (an odd prospect given that raw meat generally has a lot of bacteria, not what a wound calls for) but it seems to work for them. B. also pointed out that their roofs were all made of asbestos, another worrying prospect, especially when it made the link between her brother-in-law's death (coughing up blood because of lung cancer) a lot clearer. She told us of the local shaman in the village, the relationships between the locals, their food habits and their general way of life. It was humbling knowing how lucky we are; I complain when I don't get the food i'm craving, they go weeks without meat because they can't afford it, or without food in general, it puts things in perspective.

On the way to our home-stay we stopped off for lunch, outside there were huge rocks overlooking the streams and rice paddies below, with the mountains ahead of us. I sat and meditated on the sounds, the breeze and the beauty before joining the others for noodle soup and Vietnamese coffee (black coffee with condensed milk - it grows on you!) The Vietnamese charm was ever-present as the 'sweet' ladies that had been walking with us the whole way suddenly pull out all of their bags, bracelets and headbands. Little kids joined in as well, tugging on our sleeves as we tried to eat: 'you buy from me, money, money, money'. 3 year old's would ask us for money and turn away if we didn't give them any. It was so sad realizing that the adults of the village place more importance on money than education for their kids. 

Climbing in bamboo forests

We passed a versatile array of animals on the way to our home stay:  pigs, cattle, chickens, buffalo, cats, dogs, the lot. It made it clearer why pork, beef and chicken were so prominent on all the menu's in the area. We finally arrived at the home stay, expecting a basic house similar to Linh's, we laughed at how set-up it all was. Hot water in our showers, a huge mattress each, situated right next to 'bamboo bar' that sold the richest hot chocolate in the world (run by a dutch man of course). Our luxury home stay was not what we expected, but we embraced it, Vietnamese tea, french fries, a family dinner, pancakes, rice wine, the lot. At Bamboo bar that evening J. and I engaged in a conversation with a 'Shaman' that proved to be rather interesting. We were skeptical when discussing our new found knowledge just because he was quite buzzed on opiates (in the form of sticky black hash oil that he rubbed on the outside of his cigarettes), but it was interesting hearing what he had to say. He had a strictly vegetarian diet and carried around a plastic bottle in which he placed ash, spit, hair, pee, rizzla's, flowers etc. He then proceeded to feel the spirits of certain trees and pour the contents of his bottle on to them, claiming that the next day, they'd grow at least a foot taller (hm..). We talked about the feminine/ masculine energy of certain trees (oaks being male due to their deeper roots and Bodhi trees being very female due to their shallower roots- look it up for details) and he went on his way, swaying slightly from side to side with droopy eyes but a kind heart. The temperature dropped as the mist descended and we cuddled up under thick blankets, warmed from the fire and feeling funny that we were in Vietnam; everyone felt a tinge of nostalgia thinking back on wintry nights around a fire with family and hot chocolate.

Linh and her baby

We all slept soundly, as you do in the cold. And our alarms went off one by one at 7am. Groggily we all huddled around the breakfast table for pancakes and fruit, finishing it off with a healthy dosage of coffee and cigarettes. The weather had turned and the mist was everywhere as we were literally stuck in the clouds. It made the days trek rather interesting as we slipped and slid down the muddy paths, clinging on to little Vietnamese ladies and bamboo trees for support. Wearing our ridiculous polka dot plastic raincoats, we began worrying about splatters of mud and ended the trek covered in it with smiles on our faces. As we walked a long, watching our steps, it felt like we were in a play station game, with new challenges presenting themselves at every corner. After a big lunch we were taken back to the hotel in a bus, to shower up and settle in. I was waiting for the Hollywood lights to shine, the camera men to appear and the screen to lift as the view when we got back was too good to be true; I kept pinching myself just to remember it was real. 'Presence' was key. J and I decided not to third wheel anyone so agreed to sleep in separate rooms, I slept with Jd#2 and Jn. while he slept with B and T in the other room. We paid $5 a night for clean, white, electric blankets, TV's and hot showers - life was good. That night we went to 'misty bar', appropriate given the weather, and after a few games of pool and a few more beers, we went on the lookout for some food. Our only option seemed to be Vietnamese BBQ that was not what we expected. Chicken feet, 'tofu' that was actually bread, and being completely ripped off with no say in the matter. I sat there and muttered 'I can't wait to leave Vietnam', getting the response of nodding heads all around the table. 

Our last day in Sapa

Our last day in Vietnam was perfect, we finished Sapa with motorbikes, following unknown roads with no maps or directions, finding beautiful waterfalls and rocks on which we could admire the perfect landscapes below us. The rice paddies were shaped like ripples of water and the sun reflected off them beautifully. It was so surreal, exactly what we'd wanted to see in Vietnam. On our way back we passed fields of cherry blossom trees, the pink flowers floating around us as we sped past rugged mountains, spotting the little houses situated in the middle of them - I wondered in awe how far they'd have to walk every day to get anywhere, but what amazing views they must have from their bedroom windows.

Fireworks on Tet but still, we ended it with a bang ;)

We got back to the others, checked out, throwing away the evidence of the newly broken toilet seat that J. managed to stand on just as we were leaving. We bought snacks for the train and I had a little explore in the local market, walking out shortly after, due to the disinterest that results when you have 50 women rushing towards you shouting out prices with handfuls of clothes. The 'Last Sapa' took place at a little Vietnamese restaurant that we'd discovered the previous day before saying goodbye to Jd#2 and hopping onto our bus to Laos! It was a sitting bus this time and the Valium wore off faster than we'd have liked, I looked around as I tried to get comfortable and saw everyone doing the same thing. Moving into just about every position possible and failing in vain. Just as we drifted off and found our position, the bus stopped. We all got out with prominent bags under our eyes, having to wait two hours for the next bus to arrive to take us to the border. Immigration was a chore, and the 'no drug signs', police and dogs everywhere sent nervous sparks down our spines but we got through safe and sound, not that we'd had anything to worry about..
Laos greeted us with a friendly dose of hot sun that we all needed desperately, Vietnam had it's charm and I came away with a few expressions including (excuse the pun) 'cum on you' (thank you), 'Un Chai' (vegetarian - something Jd#2 struggled with a lot) and 'Sin Chao' (Hello). But we're happy to be leaving behind the rudeness, the haggling, being ripped off constantly and losing just about everything that was valuable to me. Bring on Laos baby.

Recipe of the day: Banh Ran

http://www.theravenouscouple.com/2011/05/banh-cam-recipe-banh-ran-sesame-balls.html

Stars always follow a setting sun

To Tisbury we go

The sun's lower than it should be at 12:30pm as I sit and wind down, allowing all of life's little worries to slowly slip away as a stress-free family ridden weekend lies ahead. The weather's doing funny things now, 2 days ago I couldn't feel my fingers beneath 2 pairs of gloves and today I'm only wearing a T-shirt and cardigan. It fills me with slight dread knowing that in 8 days I'm going to step out of the aeroplane to be greeted by an intense wave of humidity. Acclimatizing to the tropics is going to take a few days of lots of pool and AC action, as I welcome frizzy hair and bikini's.
It's a bit of a shame really, the pain of the cold is worth it because it's leading up to snow and Christmas - the first part of that is something I just seem to have missed, out of sheer bad timing. The first 3 times it snowed in our area I was dead to the world, recovering from heavy nights - I woke up to the picturesque image of rooftops and gardens blanketed by a light layer of the soft, fluffy white stuff - the reflection of the low altitude sun was making it glisten and the pale blue background blended in perfectly. As for Christmas, I'm lucky to have been here for the build up. Watching the trees go from lush to naked - standing in rows and clumps with odd, bumpy, angular branches. At night they look like weeping willows from Harry Potter that are about to come to life and wrap their arms around you, trying to keep themselves as warm as possible by pulling you into their bare and magical worlds. 
Walking down the street, the few green plants and berries all stand frozen and preserved and a light layer of glittery frost covers everything. I picked a curled leaf off a branch the other day and it lay frosty and unchanged in my hand, a tiny piece of art. The lights are forever increasing in quantity, strung over trees, bridges and windows. Walking home I spot the tops of Christmas trees peeking through the windows, ours is spread out comfortably in the corner by the front door. M and I were leaning out our window the other day, braving the outside air to lift ourselves with a few puffs of an old friend. She described London as being muted in winter, and that was the perfect adjective to describe it. The usual buzz and chaos that London's so known for is reigned in a little, the light is dimmed, the temperature dropped, the layers added and the vibe softened. It's not such a rush.
I've always spent Christmas in the tropics and I feel so lucky for that, my Christmas' consist of tinsel wrapped around palm trees, drunken jams in swimmers and seafood lunches on the beach - it's special and different but it'd be nice to abide to tradition for a change.

So the countdown's on and the 'portals' have opened as of 12/12/12 -- that's what I was told by my my madre so I did a bit of reading and watching to get inspired and understand what I was preaching. So basically, the sun goes through a precession wherein every 72 years it moves backwards by one degree, journeying through all the zodiac planes - the 'age of Aquarius'  might ring a bell, this is the new astrological age that's begun, as the sun's equinox has moved from the Piscean constellation to the Aquarian one. So at various points in time, the sun is between its highest and lowest points in the sky, also known as an 'equinox'. One of these is to take place on December 21st - aka the December solstice, when the sun is positioned at the lowest point in the northern hemisphere and the highest point in the southern. It's in the centre of the milky way while crossing the galactic equator, and on December 21st at 11:11 (deep breath!), the precession of the equinoxes occurs. This happens only once every 26,000 years and the alignment will take place along the plane of the entire galaxy. This, as you can imagine, causes a huge physical change on earth..  
Just a few little random examples of how the movement of the moon/ sun affect our physical reality, to keep everything in perspective.. 1) That temperamental time when emotions run wild?  A woman's menstrual cycle is dependent on the position of the moon, affecting us both physically and emotionally 2) The movement of the tides (and given that the majority of our earth, and body consists of water, I'd say that's a pretty huge source of control.) 3) The migration and navigation of animals based on the position of the sun and sea etc etc etc. 
So during this shift, in spiritual terms, the 'portals' are believed to be open from 12/12/12 - 21/12/12,  the portals I refer to are "Places where the magnetic field of Earth connects to the magnetic field of the Sun, creating an uninterrupted path leading from our own planet to the sun's atmosphere 93 million miles away." In turn, creating different energetic fields and particles on earth, and in humans, allowing for concious growth and awareness. (http://science.nasa.gov/science-news/science-at-nasa/2012/29jun_hiddenportals/).  It's a time to keep your heart open and your eyes wide. If I were to sit and breathe into this shift, the only image I could use to describe my inner experience is a wet cloth being tightly rung out. The emotional and physical changes happening right now are immense, and I'm using this 'shift', and my recently prescribed Microgynon (eek) to justify it. 
But what I seem to be picking up from all these spiritual sites and groups that I'm involved in, is the concept of 'unity conciousness' that's so important right now. We're so used to being individually wrapped up in our own worlds, yet we forget that we grow from others, so if this is a time for growth, it's important to feed into that. I, like many others, find that I get stuck in my own head a lot. Your problems absorb you and you lose perspective - other people bring you out of that. A recent source of inspiration, has come from a man named 'Bruce Lipton'. In one interview on 'the power of conciousness' he speaks of how we all have the ability to consciously change our realities if we emerge out of our habits that are controlled by our subconscious mind. His main message being that if we were to make the effort to live consciously for a larger percentage of the time, we could have anything - watch this (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VYYXq1Ox4sk). 

I'm looking over a green hill at the tip of a rainbow, the rest has faded and the very end where the pot of gold resides is lingering in the afternoon air. I'm daydreaming about the walk we're going to take later, past the little church at the bottom of the hill, up across the fields where the oak trees lie surrounded in a bleak mid-winter mist, and then up and over the gate that leads us back to the path, eesh I need to stretch my legs. But my monkey mind never hooks to one thought for long..
My bucket list is slowly being ticked off, but time seems to be, as it always it, the most limiting factor. Seeing family, godparents, old friends and new, buying Christmas presents, going to art exhibitions, markets, shops and restaurants  that I never saw and giving it all to the nights out that have to happen. Finishing the Crimbo rush and enjoying the last few days of a winter fling that's just started heating up; wondering what would have become if the flower girls adventures weren't so far away and if it were as easy as to hold her down with soggy clothes and breezeblocks x

The smell of manure and sheep just wafted through the carriage - we're in the countryside!

Recipe of the day: Venison pie (had it last night, ah.mazing)

http://www.bbc.co.uk/food/recipes/venisonpie_89770
   

Glide with me

Christmas trees <3

Looking outside the window I get shivers and tingles all over. A mini mandy rush as the pale sunlight reflects off the thin layer of frost that's blanketing the ground - the foundation of winter. We're at the beginning, the progression is taking place as we all wait in anticipation for the white snowflakes to make their presence known, before the bitterness sets in and the everyone's hardiness is put to the test. My level of respect for people living in ridiculous climate conditions like Greenland, Sweden or Canada - where there are literally months of darkness, has grown considerably. And this is the beginning? My friend came back from Sweden telling me about the funny light contraptions people wear on their heads. It's basically to give them the 'sunlight' and vitamin D that they can't naturally get from the sun, as well as preventing SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder) etc.. The thought of resorting to artificial sunlight triggers so many alarm bells in my head, I wouldn't be able to cope with that but kudos to those who do!

The boys

Ice sofas

That's one thing I feel I've taken for granted -- sunlight. The grass is always greener on the other side though right? As Ginger tells us.. ;) -- Living in the heat involved wearing the thinnest clothes possible and no make-up (in fear of it melting off your face) with a the odd hoodie under your arm for those freezing cold, 16°C classrooms that we'd spend half our day sitting in. Warmer weather does drain more of your energy, your body relaxes into a sleep-wake state and your mind drifts as the waves of heat take their toll. My godfather here refuses to turn the heating on in his house to keep everyone 'alert' and stop it turning into a huge, warm, lazy sofa come January. I'd much prefer a the latter but hey, I'm not paying their electricity bills so I don't really have a say. Despite the docile attitude the heat can create, it is a lot easier to deal with. You don't have to worry about forgetting your 50 layers of clothing as you run out the door in shorts and a hoodie - mislead by the deceiving blue sunny sky (yes, this has happened to me on more than one occasion). I suppose it depends on the person and their preferences but I'm definitely more of a warm weather kinda gal - the tropics is a 17 day reach away and the hourglass is sifting that sand faster than I'd like so I shouldn't really spend it complaining about the cold.

My girl

I had a bit of a magical moment the other day. Gliding across the ice with 'santa clause is coming to town' being strummed and sang in a jazzy melody from the bandstand in the centre of the ice rink. I was feeling wintry in my (*faux) fur waistcoat, woolly hat and gloves. The first 10 minutes were terrifying - that unnatural feeling of being out of control as you try and gain your balance while trying to maintain a level of composure and not look like a complete numpty falling on their ass for the 10th time. I let down my guard and held onto the railings with the only other people on the rink that were in my boat, most of them being 10 - 12 year olds.. My mates went zooming off as soon as their skates touched the ice, letting go of any kind of fear and joining the mass surge of ice skaters as they rotated clockwise. Slowly, slowly I picked up the rhythm and was off with them - breathing in the cold night air and watching the millions of little Christmas lights blend into one as we got faster and faster. The bell tolled too soon and it was the end of our turn, we stumbled onto flat, dry ground, feeling funny as the sensation of walking slowly became normal again. The rest of winter wonderland awaited us with open arms. Wooden cabins serving mulled wine and warm cider, hot chocolate, hog roasts, churros, crepes, mountains of macaroons - the options were endless and all so appealing. It reminded me of the party I went to a few weeks ago, 'Regression Sessions'. It was themed around 'childhood', a time to regress - there were various rooms with games, ball pits, bouncy castles and lots of different DJ's. Children's nursery rhymes infused with techno beats echoed through the halls as crowds of drugged up teens swayed through the doors. A little ironic, and a tad corrupt - but lots of fun nevertheless. Winter wonderland was like a childhood fantasy come to life. I walked over to one of the games and bought 7 hoops for 3 pounds. The only aim was to loop a ring around one of the 20 prizes in the centre, I laughed when I saw how easy it looked. But the phrase 'looks can be decieving' rang through my ears as my hoops disappeared to nothing with no prize to claim. That was the only 3 pounds I spent on games that evening.

Mountains of macaroons.

I left Hyde Park with a fun and festive feeling. Reminiscing on how it felt to be 6 years old, waking up on Christmas morning and jumping into your parents bed with a stocking filled with pressies. I'd always pick up my stocking extra carefully, imagining that only hours ago, father Christmas had held it in his hands and filled it up specially (no sexual implications here, I promise). The carrots that we'd left out for the reindeer would be gone, and the glass of brandy for santa would be empty. I was afraid that that feeling of excitement and anticipation was gone, and the only feeling I'd wake up with on Christmas morning was a heavy head - but I've just learnt that it can come back - the beauty of the impermanent nature of feelings.
 I was walking to the station yesterday, passed Sainsburys, the off license, my old school and the post office, when I came to the pub right by the zebra crossing. It was 5pm and the skies light was dimmed - on the wooden table outside the pub was a little boy, about 4 years old. He was lying on the top of a table looking up at the dangling lights above him and just smiling. His eyes glittered and happiness radiated from his beaming face. His nanny was a few metres away shouting at him to get off the table because they needed to leave. We made eye contact and shared a cheeky smile, before he turned back to the lights and resumed his imaginary fantasy.

Just before the bell

When you observe kids and the interaction adults have with them, or even us - It's funny that our automatic response a lot of the time is to tell them off for doing something wrong, this engrained need to control them by assuming the worst. A little boy was running his toy car across a newspaper on the tube yesterday, and got told off for disturbing the man next to him - the man was smiling softly with no hint of blame - it's so unnecessary  I find myself doing that with my brother as well so I understand - I think it comes down to just loosening up and seeing things for what they are, like I mentioned in 'The monster in the closet', it shouldn't take something that does matter for us to realize what really doesn't.

Bathroom jams

Something else I respect about children is their ability to entertain - as adults we have our various methods to reach our ecstatic and whimsical fantasy worlds, but kids do it all the time, naturally. Yes, they don't have the same kind of responsibilities weighing on their shoulders and their heads aren't full of baggage - but if they can enter a state of bliss by merely looking up at Christmas lights, who's to say we can't do the same?
I'm trying to soak in as much of the Christmassy London vibe as I can before I go back to the tropics. I feel a sadness knowing I have to leave behind this home that I'm finally used to.  It's always felt impermanent knowing that there was a timeline to it all - but it's comforting knowing it's still going to lie here unchanged, with all it's bells and whistles when I come back next summer. There's still so much to be discovered in London - I've tasted the cherry that sits on a mountain of cake; so the sadness is impermanent too, like the sand that's making it's way through the hourglass.

Recipe of the day: Churros

http://allrecipes.com/recipe/churros/