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

With a voice, to the beat, I shiver

Sleepoverz

I run along the wet leaves that glint in the morning sunlight - witnessing the transition as the green morphs into orangey brown and death slowly takes over, pulling away the leaves with its invisible claws one by one until the trees stand bare.
Seasons have changed and we breathe in Autumn air... I remember the day a few weeks ago when the weather took a significant turn as the Arctic winds blew in and I opened my winter drawer with a sigh. The shops in town didn't take long to stock up on winter gear - walking into Primark you'd think it was Christmas day! Reindeer's or snowmen on jumpers, shelves stacked with fake uggs, silver ball balls and stocking fillers (all of which you leave the shop convinced you can't live without). We turned our heating on when we realised wearing gloves in the house was unacceptable. I sat down by my radiator that's strewn with colourful hippie pants (for decoration of course as actual usage won't take place for another year) and just felt the warmth of the metal; the water slowly heating up for the first time in a year inside the cold metal pipes, letting off a slightly burnt aroma hm.. 

Mmm nosh

I've been here for over two months now and I feel a Bristonian slowly coming on. I walk the streets with confidence, not because I won't get lost (that's inevitable), but if I do I now have a sense of where in the city I am. The street art splashed around the buildings are perfect landmarks for the wandering eye, I always wonder how they manage to spray so flawlessly at such heights.. the mystery adds to their edge I guess...
Stokes Croft is the urban/ indie part of town littered with funky alternative café's and trendy teens. Tesco seems to have the monopoly over here in terms of supermarkets and their attempt to move in on Stokes Croft was rejected with demonstrations and graffiti art - their failure lies splattered in big lettering that reads 'boycott Tesco' on the side of the most noticeable building on the street. That's one of the best parts about this city... the ability everyone has to be outspoken in creative and accessible means. Whether it's hula hooping for green peace, spraying cans against Tesco or singing about women s rights, you can have your say in any way (excuse the cheesy rhyme).

Rastafarian fences

Hehe

So Uni's officially started, back into an institution and a routine. I'm taking Psychology with Sociology and though the first year usually consists of the drab that you've spent the last few years working to get away from, it's interesting taking these courses in the transitional stages of a paradigm shift. Last week one of our amazing lecturers made a group of us literally stand up at the end of class ready to start a revolution against capitalism - until we realised we really didn't know what system to choose instead - I mean Russell Brand put out an easy foundation for everyone to understand but the structure needs to be built in order to be used. I still love the concept of 'The Venus Project' (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5zn8MRKOskw) but human greed is always a confounding variable.. 

Bathroom selfies?

A beautiful rainbow on a crap camera.

Growing up really does open your eyes to a lot of shit doesn't it? We're looking at benefit fraud at the moment, the warped tax system and how the world got to this point. I looked at my last on-line pay
 check of which 1/3 had been taxed (what?!) - I come into class the next day to hear about how Apple (and other large, wealthy cooperation's) manage to dodge tax by sending huge sums of money to various offshore accounts - now that sounds fair doesn't it? I think coming into this system after having lived in another one your whole life really underlines the errors in big red felt tip pen. What's great about growing up though, is being able to go to uni and read about the beliefs of old philosophers and sociologists etc with a sense of understanding, soon the little light bulbs begin to spark and then you're suddenly merging and building upon streams of your own existing thought until we decide what we believe..

Street art in Stokes Croft

Our lecturer's turned many of us into Marxists: anti-capitalism/ unequal division of labour/ greedy,profit based/ fucked system that we're all trapped in. Slavery was said to be abolished a while ago yet a page of the Metro was dedicated to the top 10 current countries with the highest count of slavery, England scoring 61st I believe? I wonder who had the first thought of their current disguise..'Here's an idea, let's not call them slaves, let's give them their freedom so they're not our responsibility and we'll cut their shifts to say, 4 hours? so we don't have to give them a break. We'll pay them less than their value so we can make a profit (that'd be minimum wage - that according to today's metro has reached an all time low :(- the average in Bristol is about £5p/h) and then there's no one to blame.' How our society's progressed huh?
It's interesting seeing the state of politics at the moment -if you look at the biggest superpower, the US of A! Who were recently experiencing a partial government shut-down because of the trillions of dollars of debt that they owe to China/ banks and the guys that own the banks. The US hold the reigns for a global economic recession that we have no control over - but what we are seeing now is the new method of communication that they are trying so desperately to control. The internet - and while we're aware that everything we say and do is being monitored by someone, somewhere...  they sit at the other side of the computer waiting for another Snowden to appear and release more vital information to the rest of us. Our generation is equipped with the tool to communicate that they've never had before, it's definitely gonna end up being the loophole to the solution..

Anonymous

The one that got away!

(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3YR4CseY9pk)) 
"Remember remember the 5th of November 
Gunpowder, treason and plot.
I see no reason, why gunpowder treasonShould ever be forgot."
The evening of which was a demonstration all over the world lead by the sound political activist group 'Anonymous'. We originally planned on heading down to Parliament in London to stand together and peacefully protest against all the false promises that get politicians their vote, butt we missed our bus tickets so we chose more of a mental-protest :p
We sat on Brandons Hill, wrapped in jumpers with a couple ciders and J or two, overlooking the horizon of Bristol's buildings and harbour-side, while delicate plumes of multicoloured fireworks emerged from the black spaces between the houses. 10 of us stood along the hill, lighting the four corners of the cardboard that would soon bring to life another years wish. We waited patiently for the lanterns to slowly fill up with heat and then released them into the air.. most of them getting caught in the trees above while a lucky few got away.

Naww

I'm loving having a fairly stable routine again, morning yoga, a run, coffee and breakfast, uni, work, home, friends, out, bed. I've been working in care homes recently and am training to become a social carer. Care homes really open your eyes to old age - something that I'm not longing for.. "once an adult twice a child" has never rung truer.  Yoghurt's, jelly and ice cream, hot chocolate and tea, TV, hushed words, big nappies and personal carers - it's like reverting back into baby-hood again. One lady pulled a few heart strings when she started crying out for her mummy while a nursery rhyme played in the background over the cartoon of the multi coloured dancing mushrooms on TV.... I didn't really know how to respond..

Wide Eyes

But then there are other moments, walking passed a room of men and women singing in harmony just smiling - taking joy in the mundane as we once did, or the couple that have checked themselves in to the home together and still cuddle up next to each other every night. I guess old age is also a mindset, my grandma still has a young spirit, as do many others, I'd just hate to be incapable of really living my life, you know?

I'm revelling in my youth at the moment with a few crazy nights out in Bristol and the odd weekend in London. Deep house at Timbuk2, Lakota or Empire Theatre. Illegal raves in the countryside where dogs run rampant and police have no say, Drum and Bass nights at Motion where the ceilings sweat and reggae/ dub nights at The (dodgy) Black Swan. It was great going to 'For The Love of Dub' and watching Monassah (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MU7SuJOIEOQ) play - he's an old family friend that was playing at gigs my parents went to when they were 19.. funny how patterns carry through generations.

First usage of our shed!

M and I hit London for another night of spontaneous free loading, starting off at the Big Chill we progressed over to a house rave in Dalston, ending up in a flash East London pad. We looked at each other as we sat in a state we'd never experienced before, 19 years ago we were propped up in nappies playing with lego and here we were again, playing a slightly different game. Come 11am we were crawling out of the house and into a taxi, like aliens crawling out of their mothers womb for the first time. Heads on pillows, tights around our eyes to block out the sun and into the darkness we went. Only to wake up hours later and realise I'd missed my bus, again. So what should've been a £14 return journey turned into a £50 pound one.. but hey ho, we'd been pretty lucky the night before.
It's nice having friends in Bristol too, the 9 bedroom house is always the one everyone ends up at, zoning out to the deep thump of the bassy speakers as colourful balloons expand and white light fills the air. I just remember 2 days later, walking in and out of the living room to see J passed out in exactly the same position he'd been in 24 hours earlier. 3 days later the boys had finally decided to change clothes - some things I'll never understand.. 

Hospitality - Motion

But it's not all crazy, there are M and I's cook off's that always end successfully, with a movie and a bag of flowers. Our house is almost full though everyone's in and out visiting family or working around the country. Every bedroom has a bit of love and character, the little kitchen is constantly full of pots, pans, arms and legs as we duck and dive but manage somehow. 5 girls and 1 bathroom hasn't proved a problem yet but we've got our fingers crossed. The other night it was 3 girls, 1 car and no GPS - landing us in another county, escaping a near crash and arriving hours later to the big Sainsbury's for our 'cheap' shopping spree that rinsed our bank accounts. Cooking in bulk is the way to go to save money, so buying in bulk seems logical too, no? ;)

Motion in the ocean

The other day I walked home from uni and just stood in the sun for a minute to soak up a few rays and stay still amongst the movement. Don't you love the feeling of coming home? Especially after a day of Brizzly weather! Scrunching up your eyes as you climb up the steep hills with the wind hitting you in the face - you know winter's sending its signs. We managed to survive the storms though! With a tinge of disappointment after the excitement of the weather forecast's '80/mph hurricane winds'. I went for a run the morning they 'hit' (Bristol wasn't really affected) and got caught in the downpour, feeling the weight of my runners as each step got a little more difficult and soon it wasn't just the puddles making the splashes.. but there's something nice about being able to just run through the rain without hunching over and trying so desperately not to get wet, challenging the elements.. and then getting a cold the next day. Ok enough moaning, time for another cup of teea and an attempt to face the challenge of remaining sane while all the girls in our house PMS at the same time, uh oh boys beware... halloweens over but the bitches are out..

A funky tune for 'hump day' as M used to say <3 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G5nk7AsILlQ

Halloweeny recipe of the day: Pumpkin cheesecake 
http://allrecipes.co.uk/recipe/4522/pumpkin-cheesecake.aspx

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

Carnival

\‘JAMAICA JAMAICAA’ (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WgiFe6LSEeA) rang out of the huge sound systems that lined the streets of the West end. Everyone had emerged from their burrows to grab a slice of London at its best. Notting Hill Carnival, it’s been around since 1965 and ‘was led by the West Indian Migrant community in London. In recent years it has attracted up to 50,000 performers, 38 sound systems and 2.5 million people over the weekend, making it the second largest street carnival in the world after Rio.' (nottinghillcarnival.eu) Today, it’s a time that allows everyone to let loose together and share the one thing that connect all humans – a love for music, food and culture. 

Above the heads

Old Rasta’s jamming along to Aba shanti with flower fumes waving to the beats, little ones shaking their hips above shoulders and within protected circles to the tunes of Sancho Panza, with their parents keeping half an eye on them with a smile on their face. True Jamaican twerkers bumping and grinding in front of floats that were crawling with people and shaking with sounds. The crowds were a sweaty treat, not recommended for the claustrophobics amongst us as half your time is spent pressed up against strangers, shuffling through police barricades to try to reach the nearest music.

M and I

M and I lived right next to Carnival and that day, much of the public transport staff had conveniently chosen to go on strike; luckily for us, we weren’t effected and relied our legs to get there and back. Shops were shut, bars were teaming with people, the litter was slowly building up and the fabulous once-a-year (£200 - £600) costumes were appearing. We’d gone for glitter and masks, and a whole bottle of sun cream – it was 30®C and I felt like I was in the Mediterranean without the sea (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pBDVarvFqYI) today, a lot of water was going to be needed.

Famalam

The two main days of Carnival are Sunday and bank holiday Monday. Sunday’s usually family day so the vibe’s a bit more lax, we went with the adults of our family, strictly NO kids allowed - this was our day, you can’t be dealing with little manic responsibilities when you’re tryna have fun!

En route to Carnival

So we hit the first pub, ciders, G&T’s and shandy’s it was, the tunes were pumping and the bar was crowded... it was only 12pm. In the heat of the day it didn’t take much for the alcohol to reach our heads, so we downed our last drinks, with the ground becoming progressively more uneven and speech starting to slur (well mine). Shuffle, bounce, grind in time to the beat, using whatever available body parts you could, to move with the rhythm in whatever space was available. So we moved those hands and fingers above the heads of the masses, the ecstatic wave of the day passing through each of us in turn. The best part about being with family that know the scene, is they also know the shortcuts. M and I followed along quite happily, just as we were reaching Aba shanti a Rasta in the crowd held out a hand of green daisies. A 3 minute transaction and I was skipping along happily with my new purchase and being ‘welcome(d) to jam rock’ by the DJ. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xlCmQcRPtRg)

Grind, roll, lick, light the fumes dispersed and merged with the countless others. Police could be seen struggling through crowds looking for trouble, we didn’t really fit that category. The smoke from the jerk chicken wafted up our nostrils. Beans, rice, jerk, salad and gravy mmm. We bopped along in line, getting the extortionate £7 out of our pockets for our meal. Mouth-gasm is the only way to really describe the sensation when you bite into a succulent, sweet, sticky bbq’d piece of chicken with the tang of the salad, the thickness of the rice and the reggae music to top it off. 

Jerk

Mmm

We shuffled on, to Sancho Panza, Norman Jay’s good times, soul, funk, rap, reggae, house – it was all going down. The dancers were wearing their tight little knickers and spangly Brazilian/ Jamaican tops that had obviously been worked on for a long time; most of the men at carnival were having a field day, the hunger in their eyes everywhere they looked almost making them dizzy. Women didn’t do too badly either, tall, black, beautiful, ripped men dancing to good tunes? 

Sunday eve

What more could you want. As the day wound down 6pm struck and the crowds started to disperse, as around that time, is when things start to get rowdy and a lot of the gangs make their appearances. It’s the one deterrent of Carnival for a lot of people, but if you keep your valuables and friends close and your mind alert then you should be fine. The rents left us around 5 and we went to sit on the patchy grass with the other carnival go’ers. It didn’t take us long to get chatting to the group beside us, Charlie said hello and sent us buzzing on our way back home before we headed out for the night. ‘One drink and then we’ll go home’ was the plan… until we met T and J. Bringing a few girls along to a house party always looks good, so we essentially became the accessories of the night (that relationship did deepen once we all got to know each other... and started the discussion of M and I’s significant others.. love pulling that out the bag.) But we followed along quite happily; it was a free night of everything, good company and tunes on the roof of a 5 storey flat, walking distance from home - how great it is to be a girl sometimes. That night went on, and on and on moving from the kitchen to the roof, back to the kitchen for warmth, downstairs for cigs, upstairs for tunes, home for bed and up again for Carnival. The best way to get out of a strop is to do something, surrounding ourselves with music for the second day in a row allowed us to pick up on everyone else’s vibes (& jerk chicken) and just feel, good (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oHs98TEYecM)

I spot the police..

Little jammers

Men..

I skyped mum and dad in Malaysia the day afterwards and described my first experience of their old tradition. While I was raving about the DJ’s they laughed – ‘It’s so funny that you guys are all jamming along to our mates old tunes that we saw them create’. M and I’s parents, having dabbled in the music industry were mates with the DJ’s of all the biggest sound systems, and while we were playing their tunes for the first time on Spotify, our parents were sifting through their old vinyl’s & memories of when it all first began.

Lots of love

On Tuesday, work had begun again and London was back to its busy hustle and bustle. The memories of the sounds lingered in the air, clinging to the conker trees that’s leaves were transitioning from green to orange. This weekend had been ‘a whole different gravy’ as J would say, and the spirit of the city that holds so many secrets had been lifted once again.

Jam of the day: Aba Shanti at Notting Hill Carnival

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JuCWaCHfAqA

Wilderness

The beautiful lake
(Picture from Wilderness FB group)

'Bling', the familiar sound of a new email, yeahhh baby! A confirmation of my Wilderness ticket for 2013. I feel like you have to do at least one festival a year, so in exchange for a free ticket, I had to do 2 shifts catering at this years banquet with 2 of the hottest chefs in London, Hix and Ottolenghi. What a deal! One of my best friends T from KL was interested too so soon enough we were both on board and immersed in the pre-festival rush.

Empire of the sun performing in the sky
(Picture from Wilderness FB group)

I'd packed my bags, ticked everything off the list, tent, glitter, disposable camera, sleeping bag, draw, wet-wipes.. T and I were heading to Wilderness 2013 but "the real jewel in Wilderness’ crown is Cornbury Park itself (one of the most ancient forests in Britain today): the estate has an enduring beauty and a sense of untouched grandeur. World-class, 800-year old deer park encircled by a ribbon of ornamental lakes. And whilst the lakes and forests provide the perfect backdrop to while away the daytime, so open fires and candle light provide a perfect accompaniment to an evening of outdoor dining and live music." (wildernessfestival.com). 

First day eeek :)

(Picture from Wilderness FB group)

We arrived in different cars, carpooling with strangers who were heading to the festival as well, for £8 return via 'gocarshare.com'; a great way to avoid the £60+ train fare. S and M (excuse the pun) helped me with my bags and I set off to find the ticket booth, with a semi-flexible time frame of 30 minutes before the sun went down and the booth closed. Unfortunately, it just so happened that I began on the opposite side to where I needed to be, and with no wrist band to take the short cut through the festival, I had to walk the perimeter of the beautiful grounds - a lovely walk if you're not in a rush & carrying heavy bags, always a downside to festivals. But I got there! And in front of me were the high pitched voices of excited girls working for the same catering company as I, for our weekend of madness. I collected our wristbands and sat on the grass - When technology becomes unavailable, meeting up with people suddenly turns into total disorder. I suddenly gained so much respect for all the past generations who'd managed to stay in touch without phones or internet. Fighting the urge to pee, I stayed with my mound of luggage hoping T would arrive in the same spot as I. Surrounding me were groups of chilled out rastas wearing their green, gold and red; toffs in their polo necks and hunter boots, flower filled hippies with crystal balls and delighted children running between the ancient trees. This festival was the perfect allegory for the ability our country has (at times) to function as one, despite our differences and eclectic class system. T arrived, shaggy haired and weighed down with his multiple bags and we trekked over hills, back and forth until 'crew camping' spread itself in front of us. We chose a spot to pitch our mobile home for the next 4 days: 
. near a tree
. in front of a caravan/ a little blue car 
. about 200m from the portaloos

Fancy dress in the reading tent

I tried to make a mental note in fear of my constant weakness of getting lost (but despite my efforts, I still roamed that camp site for about 15 minutes each time I tried to find our tent *sigh* .. I swear it's genetic). 

Alice's tea party
(Picture from Wilderness FB group)

We lay out the pegs, highly aware of the slowly approaching darkness, discussing all the things we'd rather be doing. But we managed! Just as the temperature dropped and everything around us suddenly disappeared. Shit, no torch.. the list of all the essentials we hadn't brought suddenly  grew a page. Patience is a virtue that we needed at that point, due to the fact that everything we did took 10x as long as it should've. Sight is our strongest sense and that deprivation creates such disorientation, meaning touch has to become everything. What did that white shirt feel like? What wrapper were those cereal bars in again.. ugh not the deodorant. The incense burned and the plumes of flower filled smoke curled up to the centre of our tent as the dim light of a slowly dying phone glowed in the corner. Rice cakes and hummus would have to do, a seemingly simple snack but somehow I managed to spread the hummus over just.about.everything, woops! :)

Swimalims

We braved the cold and crawled out of our tents. The 'innocence' crew were our neighbours, a total bonus when you're being handed free smoothies every morning to replenish a bit of everything you'd lost the night before. We walked across the wet, muddy grass as the notorious British drizzle began and the grey clouds greeted us again. We could smell the whiffs of fried garlic and pot noodle as people covered up their pots and pans and portable stoves. One thing about festivals now, is the prices, you pay for the ticket but that just allows you a bit of walking space. The rest, all has a price tag, and it's the perfect place for a business as you can charge whatever kind of extortionate fee you want (because it's not like the majority of us come that prepared). We'd accepted it though and tucked in to the one or two amazing £5 - 15 pound meals a day, the choices were brilliant. There was a meatball stand where we munched on spinach, pork and ricotta meatballs with wild rice and tomato sauce, mac n cheese, chorizo wraps, English breakfasts, burgers, pizza, award winning Indian curries or Buddha bowls. The food was scattered around the festival and it took us 4 days to figure out everything that was on offer. Outside each little cove of stalls were hay stacks and grass to spread out on, some areas sheltered, some not. During the day you could check out the forum tents, the comedy arenas, roller discos, bubble shops, banquets, clothes, make-up tents and wood-working stations. We spent most of our time by the lake when the sun was out, lounging on the edge and soaking up the vitamin D before the clouds took it away in exchange for goosebumps. The lake was freezing and full of weeds but once your body got moving the warmth spread comfortably. Dotted on the side were beautifully built, round, wooden sauna's that could be enjoyed, for £30 an hour... The steam rose from them as their victims threw their heads back and watched the clouds flying by. Early morning was the nicest time for a swim, the nudists stripped themselves of their layers and dived in, the 20 year old lifeguard making an effort not to peak as he scanned the vicinity from the big fallen log. But that all came the next morning. We'd spent our first night just observing, wondering around, looking in shame at the crumpled up beer cans that littered the floor and shrugging off the odd drunkard that would find their way onto our shoulders. The music hadn't started yet and only silhouettes of huge crane-like structures, stages and rides could be seen, their secrets not to be discovered until morning came..

(Picture from Wilderness FB group)

(Picture from Wilderness FB group)

We made our way back to our tents, delirious and thankful for the warmth of our sleeping bags, the blow-up mattresses were arriving with my cousin the next day, so the lumpy floor would have to do for a night. I woke earlier than T and left him sleeping to stretch out in the lake, the drizzle hadn't subsided but an hour later, when T's sleepy head poked itself into the day, the sun spread its warmth over the camp-site.  Strums of guitars could be heard around us and the festival gear was out, glitter, fluorescent lycra and funky masks - I looked around me wondering what other lives these people lead before they stepped over the barrier. It was a 4 day break, and having been working myself, I shared their relief. The three themes of the festival were 1) La Belle et la Bête 2) Masquerade ball and 3) Dance of the vagabond dreamers (1920's esque) but anything extravagant and colourful would fly.

Chef Ottolenghi and Sammi
(Picture from Wilderness FB group)

Crunchy granola with deep red strawberries & yoghurt with a warm mocha was enjoyed for breakfast, followed by a wonder through the fairy garden, the yoga huts and gongs, a guided meditation and a game of badminton or table tennis. How civilized! The gypsy kids were doing flips and practising their performance for later, giant bubbles floated by, catching every colour of the rainbow as they drifted over the trees, producing smiles and reflecting off of wide eyes before they popped and became one with the air. The 3 pieces of clothing we had to bring for the banquet were jeans, white T's and converse. T forgot the main component so we headed off on a jeans hunt, with one or more doubts as to what we'd find. But karma was on our side and a jeans shop popped up, right next to the winter jackets that I swarmed to. The owner of the shop was a happy man that day, as the coats and jeans dropped away one by one and everyone got a little warmer each time, including us. 

Salmon on rye - catering at the banquet
(Picture from Wilderness FB group)

Into the banquet tent we ran and work-time began. The next few hours we bonded with our fellow workers, it was paradoxical being in festival/ work mode as we went from jokes to serious tasks, balancing wine glasses on trays and serving food without dropping it all over the animated guests that had paid £75 for their meals.. Ottolenghi was the chef for the first night, a vegetarians favourite - sweet beetroot salads, salmon on rye, rosemary potatoes, lamb shanks, wheat-free chocolate fudge cake - it never ended. By the end of service we were all completely loopy after having downed a few wines before they got chucked into the alci bucket. We laughed and stumbled into the tent, munching on the mounds of leftovers that'd been saved for us. Eating was the last thing on our mind, so with our new-found group, we bumped and skipped our way over hills and tent pegs to the little circle, watching the transformation of caterers to wacky festival goers. The wigs and costumes were out with a splash of M and C. Spinning to the sound of the beat we ran and joined the rave in the secret valley. All you could see was a wave of people, crazy costumes and wide eyes, all green and elevated due to the bumpy hills and funky lights. From stage to stage we hopped, dancing the night away until the silent 2am alarm went off and the music stopped.. when you stop dancing your body heat noticeably lapses and the light of the fires called our name. We squeezed in to the tight circle surrounding the powerful heat of the white embers and blue flames. Folky tunes began and I looked across from me, at a familiar face that I couldn't quite place. I shuffled over to him "do you know Eden? The forest rave in Koh Phangan?" "yeah.. we live there!" And in that moment, a sense of fate was shared. Amidst the thousands of people, on the other side of a fire in Oxfordshire, England, I had just bumped into the musical, eccentric twins, that months ago I had shared a sunrise together with J. after an all-night-all-day rave in a remote area of Thailand, on the other side of the world. For the rest of the night we caught up, appreciating the lick of the flames on our cold skin, before sleeping soundly until morning. 

That faux fur coat saved me.

Bumping into the twins <3

Saturday was our day off and we had until 11.30am on Sunday to recover before our afternoon shift with Hix. So we went for it, a morning swim, breakfast and a sesh, bumping into new friends and checking out the secrets that were still revealing themselves. And then at 5pm it all kicked off. From funk to orchestras to jazz to house we danced till our legs could take no more, stopping off at the water-filling stations that were always jam-packed. I spotted a beautiful owl mask worn by E, my older cuz who was jamming it out with his girlfriend and crew. Sticking with a group brought with it both stress and security. Staying together was tough but finding people you thought you'd lost was fun. The night ended rather messy as I woke up to the door of the cubicle, inches from my nose, realizing I hadn't quite made it to my tent before my eyes had shut. I wondered the fields in the darkness, tripping over tent peg after tent peg and rustling the sleeping tents as I clumsily struggled to stay awake. Damn it! I'd tripped again, but then I realized they weren't tent pegs this time, but 2 legs, that hadn't quite made their way into the tent either. T had passed out in the entrance of the tent and I crawled over him, fully dressed & made-up, passing out on whatever softness I could find.. oh dear. A man in a neighbouring tent had a serious snoring problem that was always one of my auditory landmarks whenever I was lost.. but that Saturday night, no snoring was gonna keep us awake! We woke up on Sunday feeling remarkably fresh, having slept at least 8 hours and not spending the whole night in a manky festival toilet cubicle :s. 

The sanctuary
(Picture from Wilderness FB group)

We gave ourselves the perfect amount of time to chill and enjoy a leisurely breakfast before our shift. This one went slower than the rest, it's tough working when it's a beautiful day outside but I guess everyone has to deal with that now and again.. just not so much in England. Buttering bread, stabbing chickens and placing gravy was the appetizer on our menu but we munched through it with vigour and grace until the witching hour struck and we all sat down happily in the sun, enjoying a big plate of Hix's fabulous food. Beer sticks, jellied ham, roasted chicken, grilled vegetables, soda bread and eton mess, mmm. Trays of food were still left once we'd had our fill so T and I filled cups of strawberries and placed them neatly in a box with a sign that read '£1 strawbugs!' We went around the festival, selling soda bread and strawberries for £1 each, and after 15 minutes, we'd made £40 and funded our night ahead. Collect phones from charging station, drop, get dressed, party. And went our last night. We discovered a tent in the neighbouring field that was full of various concoctions and spells, and soon we were under one. I ate olives under a tree and watched the sky turn from cartoon to reality as T and I struggled to communicate, snuggling under the random sleeping bag that lay overlooking the lake. People were generous that night, and despite a few mean looks, we were given everything, from masks to love to sleep. 

A spectacular end
(Picture from Wilderness FB group)

We'd packed up pretty much everything the night before, so only the tents, sleeping bags and mattresses needed to be zipped up. On with the bags and off with our heads we waved goodbye to the characters of Alice and Wonderland that had greeted us the night before, the fantastical entertainment, food and people. Hopping into our carshares we journeyed home, anticipating the Tuesday blues and the post-festival depression. I walked through the door, had a hot shower and lay down. Had that really happened?

Artist of the day: The Correspondence

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MZukiRrYROA