There wasn't much time to discuss or mention this before I boosted. I found myself on an adventure out of the UK and I had six days to get my stuff in order and go.
I am now here, back in Salt Lake City. I swear I thought I wouldn't be back here for a very long time, but as fate, or rather divine intervention, would have it, I am back. For what purpose I know not, and as the story goes, I'm not going to try and work it out I just need to take it all for face value, play it all by ear and go with the flow. That's the Vikki philosophy. 'Go With The Flow.'
I've been here for 24 hours now, my bag for even less time, and I'm just so tired. Number 1 regret in life, allowing myself to get glandular fever.
Today was spent hanging about Maddie Miller's Mum's house in Bountiful, running random errands in Bountiful and Centreville, napping, going to Wal Mart in Centreville (which was strange, because the last time I was there it was under very different circumstances), bonding with the one cat in the house (there are seven dogs, and one cat), and watching Mock The Week on YouTube. Thank you people on YouTube that are so nice and diligent in adding programmes so quickly.
The travelling was alright. I thought I was going to die at passport control. It was so hot, the queue was so long, there was a Von Trap family of nine people in front of me, I was so scared, Maddie had taken both dogs through the US queue which had 0 people in it. I was actually thinking I was going to die. I kid you not.
I got through alright, and the man didn't really question anything. But as I walked away he called me back and my blood ran cold.
He then asked for my right index finger again, and then, in a curious voice, asked if I was Vikki Miller. When I said I was, he looked at me, then at his screen and then proceeded to say, Okay you're all set.
I seriously thought that something had come up on his screen, alarm bells flashing or something, red flags. I made it thought. Thank goodness.
Then we got to Salt Lake and I almost died from the heat. It's so hot. When I packed my bag it was cold outside and over cast in Glasgow. I forgot it would be A LOT warmer here. Nevermind. I'm moreso gutted that I didn't bring my lesbian sandals.
I'm stuck in a predicament though. Again with no transport I can't really go anywhere or do anything. I'm in Bountiful just now, but I was planning on shifting down to Taylorsville in a couple of days, back with Maggie and Dave. But really I would much rather just be back with Otto near the city centre. If only he had wireless it would be spiffy.
Ahhhh. I'm so undecided about everything and trying not to offend anyone.
I should probably try and sleep again or something. Or maybe do the work that needs done. I just feel so uninspired just now.
Oh I just have one more thing to comment. Aeroplanes are like miniature prisons. There are prime times to go to the toilet. If you're in a window seat you're screwed, because you have to wait for the other people to finish eating, drinking and using their tray tables. If you need to toilet while there is food and drinks being handed out or eaten then you will find yourself trapped in the aisle behind the carts or trapped in your seat by a barricade of badly designed tray tables, and semi-cooked food that only smells and is appealing because you are so hungry you are considering gnawing your way out of the temporary prison.
Anyway... i also think that families shouldn't be allowed to travel in 9s. That's taking the piss. NINE people in the queue in front, but because they are one family they only count as one? How does THAT make any sense whatsoever, it still takes the same amount of time.
But I honestly think that although it was torturous to be behind them that I was meant to be in that queue, because the guy was so laid back, he didn't ask when I was in the states last and when he asked how long I was staying and I just skirted around the issue he still let me in. What a breath of fresh air in comparison to Carlos or whatever that dude's name was. Thank you Wang. Yes, his name was Wang.
Time to do something else.
Saturday, 27 September 2008
Tuesday, 23 September 2008
Two episodes of the wonder years.
I love the wonder years.
I wonder how many of my posts start that way. But it's true.
I watched two episodes this evening, while eating dinner, bleaching the mouser and plucking the eyebrows... all while wrapped in a blanket.
The first episode was all about the family dog. And it was so nice, it didn't make me love dogs more than cats or anything, but it made me appreciate dogs and pets in general. I liked that someone else understood and also had the same relationship with their pet.
Zero's a hell beast still.
There was a pure belter of a quote though, about when your babies turn from puppies into dogs that there will be hard times and good times and you have to love the hard times just as much as the love and the hugs and giggley times. MAN how can one show be so morally correct and have so many analogies.
The second episode was all about Kevin and Winney. Winney dumped Kevin and he was in denial, and then he was mean to her, then he apologised, because he didn't know what the future held for them, but for now they had to just be friends.
MAN!
My hands are all shaky from playing violin. It's weird making the muscles change from one thing to another. From the fingerboard to the keyboard. Crazy.
I should be packing, or doing something. But I'm stalling.
I wonder how many of my posts start that way. But it's true.
I watched two episodes this evening, while eating dinner, bleaching the mouser and plucking the eyebrows... all while wrapped in a blanket.
The first episode was all about the family dog. And it was so nice, it didn't make me love dogs more than cats or anything, but it made me appreciate dogs and pets in general. I liked that someone else understood and also had the same relationship with their pet.
Zero's a hell beast still.
There was a pure belter of a quote though, about when your babies turn from puppies into dogs that there will be hard times and good times and you have to love the hard times just as much as the love and the hugs and giggley times. MAN how can one show be so morally correct and have so many analogies.
The second episode was all about Kevin and Winney. Winney dumped Kevin and he was in denial, and then he was mean to her, then he apologised, because he didn't know what the future held for them, but for now they had to just be friends.
MAN!
My hands are all shaky from playing violin. It's weird making the muscles change from one thing to another. From the fingerboard to the keyboard. Crazy.
I should be packing, or doing something. But I'm stalling.
Salt Lake City Has the Grooviest Kids.
Richy the awesome Ritalin just sent me the best present ever... a Queers shirt and the best punk music ever on a dvd... that GIGABYTES of punk.
I was just listening to some queers and came across the song Salt Lake City, which turns out to be a cover of the Beach Boys. I NEVER KNEW THIS SONG EXISTED.
Here are some awesome lyrics for you to follow along:
Down in Utah
The guys and I dig a city called Salt Lake
It's got the grooviest kids
That's why we never get tired of Salt Lake
And the way the kids talk so cool
Is an out of sight thing
And the number one radio station
Makes the town really swing yeah
Salt Lake City we'll be coming soon
There's a park near the city, yeah
All the kids dig the Lagoon now
It's full of all kinds of girls
And rides and we'll be flyin' there soon now
And girl for girl
They've got the cutest of the Western states
They got the sun in the summer
And winter time the skiing is great yeah
Salt Lake City we'll be coming soon
Salt Lake City we'll be coming soon
We'll be coming soon
We'll be coming soon
We'll be coming soon
And it's all Ironic in some small fitting way :)
Gordon Brown in the latest episode of Murder she wrote.
I just tried to watch murder she wrote, but a stupid gordon brown labour conference was on instead. I did keep watching for a few minutes just in case Gordon Brown died and Jessica Fletcher pitched up to solve the murder.
No such joy. I miss Jessica Fletcher.
No such joy. I miss Jessica Fletcher.
Monday, 22 September 2008
When the Moon Hits your Eye Like a BIG pizza pie, that's Italy.
I have vanished into a land of nothingness (the nothing like in the never ending story) since I got back from Italy.
And now, it's time, for, the, Italy, blog. , , ,
I set off from my house at around 7am, I was catching the 7:30am train to Prestwick... which got me in so SUPER early that I could have had another 30 minutes in bed at least. Doh.
I always leave packing to the last minute which means I don't get to bed until a crazy time and then I don't want to go anywhere any more because all I want to do is sleep. I am a fool.
Prestwick were being idiots and they made me pay £1 for four plastic bags from a vending machine to put my lip balm in. What a joke. It doesn't even have to be in a bag. I actually had to ask a lady for a pound coin for two fifties and we were all totally held up then by the stupid bag rule. Man I was so mad. I got over it though, and went on with my life, that involved sitting. Luckily Kate called me at the airport and I was able to kill some time.
The best part about being British and flying with an airline that has no assigned seating is the strange fascination people have with queuing. It's great to sit there and watch Brits queue when they've not been told to. It happened with the Dublin flight, and then again with my own flight to London. People just started queueing because someone, around the time of boarding, got up for a wizz. It's madness.
Anyway, everyone started queueing, my flight was called, and then I hung up with Kate and nipped to the loo. I've never had to use the toilet on Ryanair and I hope I never have to.
There were perhaps 4 people behind me, the queue went by quickly, and I was one person from the front. I had just walked past a middle eastern looking man who was out of the count and a half. He was pretty much comatose on the seat. I had this overwhelming feeling that I should wake him up. So I left the queue and skipped back to him and poked him and prodded him. For a while I thought he was dead, but he finally woke up and he was, indeed, meant to be getting on my flight. So I was pleased that I had helped him not to miss it.
I had a million hour lay over in Stanstead, which I filled with buying the Catcher in the Rye (again) and eating in Pret a Manger. I love that shop so much. Their food is beyond amazing.
I also took some pictures of Donkey and Oinker. Yes I took them with me, yes I photographed them a lot, and yes they now have their own blog.
On the plane to Naples I was sitting next to a man and lady, who switched seats half way through the journey. The man was reading the easy jet book so I offered him my Times magazine, he declined. I continued to sleep randomly in a strange and odd curled up position. I will damage my back one day sleeping the way I do on planes.
We got to Naples and I thought I saw Alexis, Donna's friend from Edinburgh, but I decided it wasn't her and then set about getting my own bag. I then bumped into the man and lady I had been sitting next to on the plane. And then I just took off.
I got outside and was looking for the tourist information or the bus depot but instead found a taxi man who bundled me in his car without my 100% consent under the pretence that he would take me to the train station for 2 Euro???
I know.
On the way there I started wondering if he was even a taxi driver. The air was so warm, and he was driving like a crazy crazy nut. He kept asking if I wanted him to drive me all the way to Sorrento for 120 Euros. To which I told him to bolt.
Rather than taking me to the big train station he took me to the dodgy one. Thank you taxi man, which was further away, and which had scarier people.
After charging me THIRTY Euros and me getting really nasty and cowish towards him – because he pretty much robbed me – he brought me into the train station and spoke to the lady behind the desk to get my ticket. I paid up and then he gave me a hug goodbye. I forgot to mention that the entire time in the taxi he kept being sleazy and weird, and kissing my hand.
So when we were parting he kissed my cheek, and gave me a half hug... THEN... THEN he went for it... he went for a proper kiss. I totally shoved him away and he was like...' no no no kiss? how much how much?'
To which I replied, NO MUCH... and then ran off down the stairs to the train station.
Downstairs wasn't much friendlier. It was vacant, vandalised and very unfamiliar.
There were four backpackers over in the corner so I sat with them and kind of eary wigged their conversation. They were heading to sorrento too, so I just decided to follow them.
The train station looked like this:
and I think this turned out to actually be our train.
The inside was basic - plastic seats, lino floor and dirty windows. I sat and read the catcher in the rye with my headphones on and any scariness was gone. There were a bunch of Londoners on the train too.
We arrived in Sorrento and I walked to the hostel, couldn't find it, and kept wandering about. I found Donna and Daniel's hotel, which was pumping 'YMCA'. Amazing. And then I finally worked out that the street my hostel was on went underneath the road I was looking for a right turn. It was more of a right turn and jump. When I arrived the man at the desk knew me by name. Crazy. I went to my room and after making beds and rifling through bags I was pretty much asleep instantaneously. Man it was so hot, the air conditioning was on and at about 7am I woke up freezing. It was so odd. I had to put on a hoody while sleeping.
There was no window, so I slept in quite a bit, had a shower and then wandered about the streets of Sorrento.
Everything that is an Italian stereotype is true. It's insane. Scooters everywhere.
and tiny tiny streets with cars driving up them regardless of people. It's really crazy.
And a lot of Jesus. :)
After wandering for a bit I headed down to the shore and paddled around in the Mediterranean sea. Amazing.
On my journey I found an amazing cat, which spoke to me in Italian. I swear it did. You have to listen to the little bits the cat actually says and not me... its high pitched and slow... Very Italian sounding. Well to me anyway. Haha.
I hoofed it back to the hostel, got changed for the wedding, then set off to the most beautiful wedding either. I swear it was amazing. So pretty. How many people are ever married with grapes growing behind them. Seriously. Amazing.
I'm so pleased I went, I would have regretted it if I didn't.
While we were waiting for Donna to arrive a man and lady walked into the cloisters and I swear I knew them from somewhere. And it turned out to be the couple I was sitting next to on the plane. SERIOUSLY. And then Alexis and her friend Alexis showed up and it WAS the girl I had seen at the airport. So the majority of the non-family guests were all on the same plane from London to Naples. How crazy is that? Haha.
Amazing.
Wedding feet.
There was dinner, there was drinks, there was chatting, there was everything amazing. It was such a good day.
The next day, much to everyone's worry, I set off for Naples via Pompeii.
Pompeii was pretty cool, and they had a free left luggage, so I didn't have to drag my backpack all around that sweaty place. It was so hot, so dirty and so BIG.
I ended up following the Chinese people all around, I kept loosing them and walking off but I would always find them, or they me. It was amusing. I wish I could have spoken Chinese so I could hear their tour guide.
I hadn't eaten anything for breakfast and just kept drinking water. I had a packet of polos that I'd bought in London and kept chewing them. Then a familiar logo flashed before my eyes and I got really mad. WHEN DID NESTLE TAKE OVER POLO. That's why he spearmint flavour no longer has green bits in it. I was so mad. I still finished the packet though, and then raged about it for a while.
One of the Chinese tourists stopped and showed me a picture of a petrified person, and asked if I had seen those people anywhere. I told him, I was looking for the same thing.
Sure enough, when we parted ways, in different directions, and when I found the people, he was there too. I tell you, I was with them the whole way.
While I was taking pictures of Donkey and Oinker this lady walked past me and said 'Tiene un psycho.' I don't have to be able to speak Spanish to know what she saying about me. HAHA.
Pompeii bogging feet.
I then caught the train the rest of the way to Naples, and there was a guy on the train that kept looking at me strangely, but then not. It was one of those 'you're a backpacker, I'm a backpacker, we should be friends, we have stuff in common' kind of looks. It killed time watching him watch me though.
I then walked around Naples, here's a thought, when you give directions give people the real name of the street rather than the local made up name. Man I was so mad. I found the street, but it didn't match the name I had so I kept walking around and about. By the time I got to the hostel I was sweating to death. I swear, from the second I stepped off the plane until the rain came down I was just constantly sweating and too hot. Utter madness.
The hostel was really close to the train station and I seemed to have walked the most scenic route to get there. It was run by a nice man who gave me a map and a guide to the quick walking tour of Naples.
I felt like there was so much life there, so much character. After being in tourist spots this felt like home. It was amazing. I loved it.
The hostel man also told me where to go for pizza, and I tell you, I have been spoiled, never again will I ever taste pizza like that. Not unless I go back to Naples. I swear it was the best thing I've ever had.
And it was all wood burning fire cooked by this man. He was so amazing.
After filling myself, I wandered around the streets. There was a lot of people begging for money, and a lot of people performing. I met this man who clocked me for British as soon as I stood next to him. I think it was because I was so pale.
I ended up at mass, I sat in real catholic Italian mass for about 15 minutes before going back out onto the streets. I think the secret is to not behave or act like a victim, not to stare too much at people, and pretty much use common sense, it's like being in Glasgow. Seriously.
I was walking down a main shopping street and I was so impressed that there were no major chain stores or anything. It felt so nice. I saw 0 starbucks'. I tried to communicate with a lady asking me about donkey and oinker. Spanish and English were no good. All I was looking for was the word art. But I couldn't explain it.
I wandered further down the street and these two men spoke to me for about 10 minutes. The one on the left spoke english and Italian, the one on the right spoke Italian and Spanish. So I spoke to the left one in English, The right one in Spanish and they spoke Italian to each other. It was one of the greatest things I've ever done in my life. I loved it. And I even got to say the words 'El Policia' to the Spanish speaker, because I was talking about the left guy who was a service guard or something. It was amazing haha. Just like Ben Stiller in Anchorman.
Feral Dog.
This was the outside of the pizza place I was at earlier. It was totally full when it got later. Amazing.
But I was going for Gelato.
The dark alley.
When I was leaving a Japanese girl called Masami asked if we could travel to Rome together. I said I would meet her at the train station and that I wanted to wander through the market outside. While wandering through the stolen and fake trainers and bags and people heckling me to buy their things and me telling them I had shoes and I didn't need any, there was an eruption of panicked chatter. One word repeated over and over echoing down the market. Then every dodgy person grabbed their goods and started running. They had everything in/on an easily liftable bag or table. They just started running, and then seconds later a cop car drove down the market. It was crazy. Once the cops had left all the men came back.
It was a crazy market and I couldn't resist whipping out the SLR to try and photograph it. Idiotic move.
Just as the market had erupted in chatter before, it did again, but this time to the word photographia. Now, whether they thought I was the fraud police, or whether they wanted my camera, I don't know. Needless to say, after two shots, I quickly exited.
I met Masami at the train station, and we travelled to Roma. After a 20 minute hunt for the tourist information place, we went to my hostel which was crazy, and filled with European boys half-naked in the bathroom. Shared multi cubicle bathroom? It was weird. Very weird.
I changed my shoes and set about Rome. First to the colosseum, which was large, interesting, and old.
I did seem more enthralled with my M&Ms though. The M&Ms I had to buy to get changed of a 10 Euro because the shop man refused to sell me a twix for change, and before that I had to get a 10 Euro from the bank because the machine in the station wouldn't take a card for a 4 Euro 24 hour ticket. I just didn't understand. And I couldn't locate my change purse. I decided I'd left it in the hostel. I still haven't found it, so either I was pick pocketed in Naples, which is unlikely, or I left it in the hostel in Naples. Meh.
It was a rigmarole trying to get the ticket nonetheless. When I finally got it I went to the colosseum. Then to the Vatican, and then to the Trevi fountain when it was just getting dark.
The Vatican was ace. Although it was totally the wrong religion, it was still interesting and Jesus Christ was on top of it, right above where the pope gives his wee talks.
Jesus Christ IS on top of that building, with his twelve disciples.
The inside of the Vatican.
The outside of the Vatican. (This is where I was being blasphemous.)
This shop was amazing, it was filled with Baby Jesus'. I'll let me tell you though in the video.
I then went over to the Trevi fountain and found this man:
on the way. I love that he is using a shoe on his hand. That's innovation.
The fountain was swarming with people, it was pretty and all but I was Hunger-yyy. So I started wandering the streets looking for eats. I knew that if I stayed near the fountain I would be charged a fortune for Western Italian food, and I was dying for some pasta. I've never been able to have pasta that topped the stuff I had in Little Italy in New York in 2006. So i was looking and trying.
I finally settled on a restaurant because 1. I was weary, 2. The man at the door told me what the best thing on the menu was, 3. He didn't lie.
I sat outside and they sat me next to a table with three people at it, but I was slightly outside the canopy. There was thunder and lightening and then it started to spit... the waiter told me that it was fine and there would be no more than that. As a precaution the three Americans at the table next to me invited me to sit in with them. I was pleased to, and moment later the heavens opened and the sea poured out of the sky. It was mad. The whole right side of me was wet from the constant splashing of water.
The three people were so interesting though. They were from the university of Tennessee and they were there for a diabetes conference. I was telling them all about me, my life, my research etc etc and they were discussing mormonism with me and how one of the guys they work with is a member and they used to work with another guy who moved to Idaho so his children would marry members. It was brilliant, and there was never any awkward silences, and the pasta was incredible. IN CRED IBLE. And then I ordered hot chocolate. The air was warm, the rain cooling and hot chocolate was a perfect weight, temperature and flavour that just made the moment I drank/ate it the best of my life. I swear.
One of the Americans walked me back to the Metro station because he was going the same way, we ran through the streets of Rome soaking wet with the cities finest entrepreneurs selling us umbrellas that they must have had in reserve at home waiting for the rain to pour. Amazing.
I think I can honestly say that I will never run through rome again soaked to the skin, with a university lecturer from American that I met 2 hours before. It was brilliant.
We parted ways at the Termini station and wished each other those fake pleasantries for future travelling etc etc.
I headed back to the hostel and almost died I was so tired.
Masami had spent the day getting her plans together for the future days. She is my utter hero. She's 34, she was an office worker, and one day she quit and she's been travelling since May with no real time of when she's going home. Possible October, possibly not. She's been to Cambodia, Thailand, India, England, and now Italy. I'm not sure where else in Europe she'd been but I'm sure she had been other places too. She is my utter hero.
I met a tonne of solo backpackers. People that would just quit and travel, Australians and Americans mostly. It inspires me to do it. The leaving would be the hardest, but once I was on the road, I would be fine, I think. Amazing.
While I was brushing my teeth that night I stood at the open window which opened onto a bit of a balcony. I stood there and watched the rain trickle down, and I watched the beginning of 'Snatch' on a TV through another open window, and I watched another person hang their clothes in their house. It's moments like that, that make my life I think. When things are so peaceful and the world is just getting on with it. I think it's beautiful.
While I was away, the entire time I was worried that I might have been talking in my sleep. On the fourth night in Rome I woke myself up about 6am when I was trying to say some kind of long sentence, what I remember saying was something like 'well, I don't think that's very nice at all, you... '
I can't remember how it was going to end though. But I woke up and got really embarrassed haha. But then I got over it and went back to sleep.
When I woke up for real for real Masami and I got ready and left together, and I decided that I had six hours so I could see a couple of things and get another hot chocolate a pizza then hit the road for the plane station.
My left foot hurt a little, but I thought nothing of it, Masami and I parted ways and I headed towards the Trevi fountain again to see the Pantheon.
As I was walking off the metro my foot started to agonise. It felt like nerves were catching in the bone. It was the sorest pain. What took me 5 minutes to walk the night before took me about 20 because the pain was so much and it kept increasing.
I ate some random pastries outside the Trevi Fountain where I chatted to a man from Holland. And then continued my walk to the Pantheon via pharmacies and sports shops. Finally I found some kind of bandage for my foot, which I put on outside a church that someone was getting married in. I'm lovely.
My foot was lovelier. Haha.
I ambled my way to the Pantheon where this amazing video was filmed.
I then thought of trying to go to the park near the colosseum, but by the time I got back to the metro there was only really time to go back to the hostel, eat some pizza and catch the bus. While eating pizza I happened to chat to two Australians, again solo travellers that had found each other, one was hanging about until he went to Johannesburg, the other was off to work in the UK for 1 - 2 years. Either London or Glasgow. He was nice, I wish I had been a true Scot and given him contact details in case he was up this way. I suck. I never even got his name. I think that's the beauty of backpacking though. People start to get realistic. They realise that they can't keep in touch with everyone, so they enjoy each other's company for what it is, a few brief hours, one night, and then just keep the memories. No complication, its like the unwritten rule of backpacking. It's just like wee John told me, It's easier to get from A to B if you make friends along the way. That drunk man knew his stuff.
I then got myself tipsy in the airport on a liqueur. AND if you thought Prestwick was bad, try flying out of Ciampino. It was horrid. After getting tipsy, the plane being delayed, and the travel pills kicking in, I was almost unconscious in the airport.
I finished reading the Catcher in the Rye on the train to central, where I had my mum come pick me up because I was in so much foot pain agony.
I even met another solo traveller on the train to Central and he had a strange accent, but he was actually English, living in Inverness, and was in Rome for the diabetes conference too... AND I kid you not, he said the reason he had a strange accent was because he had been in Italy for those few days and he picked up the accent. OH SHUT UP. No one picks up an accent that quickly...
but apparently he does.
And now, it's time, for, the, Italy, blog. , , ,
I set off from my house at around 7am, I was catching the 7:30am train to Prestwick... which got me in so SUPER early that I could have had another 30 minutes in bed at least. Doh.
I always leave packing to the last minute which means I don't get to bed until a crazy time and then I don't want to go anywhere any more because all I want to do is sleep. I am a fool.
Prestwick were being idiots and they made me pay £1 for four plastic bags from a vending machine to put my lip balm in. What a joke. It doesn't even have to be in a bag. I actually had to ask a lady for a pound coin for two fifties and we were all totally held up then by the stupid bag rule. Man I was so mad. I got over it though, and went on with my life, that involved sitting. Luckily Kate called me at the airport and I was able to kill some time.
The best part about being British and flying with an airline that has no assigned seating is the strange fascination people have with queuing. It's great to sit there and watch Brits queue when they've not been told to. It happened with the Dublin flight, and then again with my own flight to London. People just started queueing because someone, around the time of boarding, got up for a wizz. It's madness.
Anyway, everyone started queueing, my flight was called, and then I hung up with Kate and nipped to the loo. I've never had to use the toilet on Ryanair and I hope I never have to.
There were perhaps 4 people behind me, the queue went by quickly, and I was one person from the front. I had just walked past a middle eastern looking man who was out of the count and a half. He was pretty much comatose on the seat. I had this overwhelming feeling that I should wake him up. So I left the queue and skipped back to him and poked him and prodded him. For a while I thought he was dead, but he finally woke up and he was, indeed, meant to be getting on my flight. So I was pleased that I had helped him not to miss it.
I had a million hour lay over in Stanstead, which I filled with buying the Catcher in the Rye (again) and eating in Pret a Manger. I love that shop so much. Their food is beyond amazing.
I also took some pictures of Donkey and Oinker. Yes I took them with me, yes I photographed them a lot, and yes they now have their own blog.
On the plane to Naples I was sitting next to a man and lady, who switched seats half way through the journey. The man was reading the easy jet book so I offered him my Times magazine, he declined. I continued to sleep randomly in a strange and odd curled up position. I will damage my back one day sleeping the way I do on planes.
We got to Naples and I thought I saw Alexis, Donna's friend from Edinburgh, but I decided it wasn't her and then set about getting my own bag. I then bumped into the man and lady I had been sitting next to on the plane. And then I just took off.
I got outside and was looking for the tourist information or the bus depot but instead found a taxi man who bundled me in his car without my 100% consent under the pretence that he would take me to the train station for 2 Euro???
I know.
On the way there I started wondering if he was even a taxi driver. The air was so warm, and he was driving like a crazy crazy nut. He kept asking if I wanted him to drive me all the way to Sorrento for 120 Euros. To which I told him to bolt.
Rather than taking me to the big train station he took me to the dodgy one. Thank you taxi man, which was further away, and which had scarier people.
After charging me THIRTY Euros and me getting really nasty and cowish towards him – because he pretty much robbed me – he brought me into the train station and spoke to the lady behind the desk to get my ticket. I paid up and then he gave me a hug goodbye. I forgot to mention that the entire time in the taxi he kept being sleazy and weird, and kissing my hand.
So when we were parting he kissed my cheek, and gave me a half hug... THEN... THEN he went for it... he went for a proper kiss. I totally shoved him away and he was like...' no no no kiss? how much how much?'
To which I replied, NO MUCH... and then ran off down the stairs to the train station.
Downstairs wasn't much friendlier. It was vacant, vandalised and very unfamiliar.
There were four backpackers over in the corner so I sat with them and kind of eary wigged their conversation. They were heading to sorrento too, so I just decided to follow them.
The train station looked like this:
and I think this turned out to actually be our train.
The inside was basic - plastic seats, lino floor and dirty windows. I sat and read the catcher in the rye with my headphones on and any scariness was gone. There were a bunch of Londoners on the train too.
We arrived in Sorrento and I walked to the hostel, couldn't find it, and kept wandering about. I found Donna and Daniel's hotel, which was pumping 'YMCA'. Amazing. And then I finally worked out that the street my hostel was on went underneath the road I was looking for a right turn. It was more of a right turn and jump. When I arrived the man at the desk knew me by name. Crazy. I went to my room and after making beds and rifling through bags I was pretty much asleep instantaneously. Man it was so hot, the air conditioning was on and at about 7am I woke up freezing. It was so odd. I had to put on a hoody while sleeping.
There was no window, so I slept in quite a bit, had a shower and then wandered about the streets of Sorrento.
Everything that is an Italian stereotype is true. It's insane. Scooters everywhere.
and tiny tiny streets with cars driving up them regardless of people. It's really crazy.
And a lot of Jesus. :)
After wandering for a bit I headed down to the shore and paddled around in the Mediterranean sea. Amazing.
On my journey I found an amazing cat, which spoke to me in Italian. I swear it did. You have to listen to the little bits the cat actually says and not me... its high pitched and slow... Very Italian sounding. Well to me anyway. Haha.
I hoofed it back to the hostel, got changed for the wedding, then set off to the most beautiful wedding either. I swear it was amazing. So pretty. How many people are ever married with grapes growing behind them. Seriously. Amazing.
I'm so pleased I went, I would have regretted it if I didn't.
While we were waiting for Donna to arrive a man and lady walked into the cloisters and I swear I knew them from somewhere. And it turned out to be the couple I was sitting next to on the plane. SERIOUSLY. And then Alexis and her friend Alexis showed up and it WAS the girl I had seen at the airport. So the majority of the non-family guests were all on the same plane from London to Naples. How crazy is that? Haha.
Amazing.
Wedding feet.
There was dinner, there was drinks, there was chatting, there was everything amazing. It was such a good day.
The next day, much to everyone's worry, I set off for Naples via Pompeii.
Pompeii was pretty cool, and they had a free left luggage, so I didn't have to drag my backpack all around that sweaty place. It was so hot, so dirty and so BIG.
I ended up following the Chinese people all around, I kept loosing them and walking off but I would always find them, or they me. It was amusing. I wish I could have spoken Chinese so I could hear their tour guide.
I hadn't eaten anything for breakfast and just kept drinking water. I had a packet of polos that I'd bought in London and kept chewing them. Then a familiar logo flashed before my eyes and I got really mad. WHEN DID NESTLE TAKE OVER POLO. That's why he spearmint flavour no longer has green bits in it. I was so mad. I still finished the packet though, and then raged about it for a while.
One of the Chinese tourists stopped and showed me a picture of a petrified person, and asked if I had seen those people anywhere. I told him, I was looking for the same thing.
Sure enough, when we parted ways, in different directions, and when I found the people, he was there too. I tell you, I was with them the whole way.
While I was taking pictures of Donkey and Oinker this lady walked past me and said 'Tiene un psycho.' I don't have to be able to speak Spanish to know what she saying about me. HAHA.
Pompeii bogging feet.
I then caught the train the rest of the way to Naples, and there was a guy on the train that kept looking at me strangely, but then not. It was one of those 'you're a backpacker, I'm a backpacker, we should be friends, we have stuff in common' kind of looks. It killed time watching him watch me though.
I then walked around Naples, here's a thought, when you give directions give people the real name of the street rather than the local made up name. Man I was so mad. I found the street, but it didn't match the name I had so I kept walking around and about. By the time I got to the hostel I was sweating to death. I swear, from the second I stepped off the plane until the rain came down I was just constantly sweating and too hot. Utter madness.
The hostel was really close to the train station and I seemed to have walked the most scenic route to get there. It was run by a nice man who gave me a map and a guide to the quick walking tour of Naples.
I felt like there was so much life there, so much character. After being in tourist spots this felt like home. It was amazing. I loved it.
The hostel man also told me where to go for pizza, and I tell you, I have been spoiled, never again will I ever taste pizza like that. Not unless I go back to Naples. I swear it was the best thing I've ever had.
And it was all wood burning fire cooked by this man. He was so amazing.
After filling myself, I wandered around the streets. There was a lot of people begging for money, and a lot of people performing. I met this man who clocked me for British as soon as I stood next to him. I think it was because I was so pale.
I ended up at mass, I sat in real catholic Italian mass for about 15 minutes before going back out onto the streets. I think the secret is to not behave or act like a victim, not to stare too much at people, and pretty much use common sense, it's like being in Glasgow. Seriously.
I was walking down a main shopping street and I was so impressed that there were no major chain stores or anything. It felt so nice. I saw 0 starbucks'. I tried to communicate with a lady asking me about donkey and oinker. Spanish and English were no good. All I was looking for was the word art. But I couldn't explain it.
I wandered further down the street and these two men spoke to me for about 10 minutes. The one on the left spoke english and Italian, the one on the right spoke Italian and Spanish. So I spoke to the left one in English, The right one in Spanish and they spoke Italian to each other. It was one of the greatest things I've ever done in my life. I loved it. And I even got to say the words 'El Policia' to the Spanish speaker, because I was talking about the left guy who was a service guard or something. It was amazing haha. Just like Ben Stiller in Anchorman.
Feral Dog.
This was the outside of the pizza place I was at earlier. It was totally full when it got later. Amazing.
But I was going for Gelato.
The dark alley.
When I was leaving a Japanese girl called Masami asked if we could travel to Rome together. I said I would meet her at the train station and that I wanted to wander through the market outside. While wandering through the stolen and fake trainers and bags and people heckling me to buy their things and me telling them I had shoes and I didn't need any, there was an eruption of panicked chatter. One word repeated over and over echoing down the market. Then every dodgy person grabbed their goods and started running. They had everything in/on an easily liftable bag or table. They just started running, and then seconds later a cop car drove down the market. It was crazy. Once the cops had left all the men came back.
It was a crazy market and I couldn't resist whipping out the SLR to try and photograph it. Idiotic move.
Just as the market had erupted in chatter before, it did again, but this time to the word photographia. Now, whether they thought I was the fraud police, or whether they wanted my camera, I don't know. Needless to say, after two shots, I quickly exited.
I met Masami at the train station, and we travelled to Roma. After a 20 minute hunt for the tourist information place, we went to my hostel which was crazy, and filled with European boys half-naked in the bathroom. Shared multi cubicle bathroom? It was weird. Very weird.
I changed my shoes and set about Rome. First to the colosseum, which was large, interesting, and old.
I did seem more enthralled with my M&Ms though. The M&Ms I had to buy to get changed of a 10 Euro because the shop man refused to sell me a twix for change, and before that I had to get a 10 Euro from the bank because the machine in the station wouldn't take a card for a 4 Euro 24 hour ticket. I just didn't understand. And I couldn't locate my change purse. I decided I'd left it in the hostel. I still haven't found it, so either I was pick pocketed in Naples, which is unlikely, or I left it in the hostel in Naples. Meh.
It was a rigmarole trying to get the ticket nonetheless. When I finally got it I went to the colosseum. Then to the Vatican, and then to the Trevi fountain when it was just getting dark.
The Vatican was ace. Although it was totally the wrong religion, it was still interesting and Jesus Christ was on top of it, right above where the pope gives his wee talks.
Jesus Christ IS on top of that building, with his twelve disciples.
The inside of the Vatican.
The outside of the Vatican. (This is where I was being blasphemous.)
This shop was amazing, it was filled with Baby Jesus'. I'll let me tell you though in the video.
I then went over to the Trevi fountain and found this man:
on the way. I love that he is using a shoe on his hand. That's innovation.
The fountain was swarming with people, it was pretty and all but I was Hunger-yyy. So I started wandering the streets looking for eats. I knew that if I stayed near the fountain I would be charged a fortune for Western Italian food, and I was dying for some pasta. I've never been able to have pasta that topped the stuff I had in Little Italy in New York in 2006. So i was looking and trying.
I finally settled on a restaurant because 1. I was weary, 2. The man at the door told me what the best thing on the menu was, 3. He didn't lie.
I sat outside and they sat me next to a table with three people at it, but I was slightly outside the canopy. There was thunder and lightening and then it started to spit... the waiter told me that it was fine and there would be no more than that. As a precaution the three Americans at the table next to me invited me to sit in with them. I was pleased to, and moment later the heavens opened and the sea poured out of the sky. It was mad. The whole right side of me was wet from the constant splashing of water.
The three people were so interesting though. They were from the university of Tennessee and they were there for a diabetes conference. I was telling them all about me, my life, my research etc etc and they were discussing mormonism with me and how one of the guys they work with is a member and they used to work with another guy who moved to Idaho so his children would marry members. It was brilliant, and there was never any awkward silences, and the pasta was incredible. IN CRED IBLE. And then I ordered hot chocolate. The air was warm, the rain cooling and hot chocolate was a perfect weight, temperature and flavour that just made the moment I drank/ate it the best of my life. I swear.
One of the Americans walked me back to the Metro station because he was going the same way, we ran through the streets of Rome soaking wet with the cities finest entrepreneurs selling us umbrellas that they must have had in reserve at home waiting for the rain to pour. Amazing.
I think I can honestly say that I will never run through rome again soaked to the skin, with a university lecturer from American that I met 2 hours before. It was brilliant.
We parted ways at the Termini station and wished each other those fake pleasantries for future travelling etc etc.
I headed back to the hostel and almost died I was so tired.
Masami had spent the day getting her plans together for the future days. She is my utter hero. She's 34, she was an office worker, and one day she quit and she's been travelling since May with no real time of when she's going home. Possible October, possibly not. She's been to Cambodia, Thailand, India, England, and now Italy. I'm not sure where else in Europe she'd been but I'm sure she had been other places too. She is my utter hero.
I met a tonne of solo backpackers. People that would just quit and travel, Australians and Americans mostly. It inspires me to do it. The leaving would be the hardest, but once I was on the road, I would be fine, I think. Amazing.
While I was brushing my teeth that night I stood at the open window which opened onto a bit of a balcony. I stood there and watched the rain trickle down, and I watched the beginning of 'Snatch' on a TV through another open window, and I watched another person hang their clothes in their house. It's moments like that, that make my life I think. When things are so peaceful and the world is just getting on with it. I think it's beautiful.
While I was away, the entire time I was worried that I might have been talking in my sleep. On the fourth night in Rome I woke myself up about 6am when I was trying to say some kind of long sentence, what I remember saying was something like 'well, I don't think that's very nice at all, you... '
I can't remember how it was going to end though. But I woke up and got really embarrassed haha. But then I got over it and went back to sleep.
When I woke up for real for real Masami and I got ready and left together, and I decided that I had six hours so I could see a couple of things and get another hot chocolate a pizza then hit the road for the plane station.
My left foot hurt a little, but I thought nothing of it, Masami and I parted ways and I headed towards the Trevi fountain again to see the Pantheon.
As I was walking off the metro my foot started to agonise. It felt like nerves were catching in the bone. It was the sorest pain. What took me 5 minutes to walk the night before took me about 20 because the pain was so much and it kept increasing.
I ate some random pastries outside the Trevi Fountain where I chatted to a man from Holland. And then continued my walk to the Pantheon via pharmacies and sports shops. Finally I found some kind of bandage for my foot, which I put on outside a church that someone was getting married in. I'm lovely.
My foot was lovelier. Haha.
I ambled my way to the Pantheon where this amazing video was filmed.
I then thought of trying to go to the park near the colosseum, but by the time I got back to the metro there was only really time to go back to the hostel, eat some pizza and catch the bus. While eating pizza I happened to chat to two Australians, again solo travellers that had found each other, one was hanging about until he went to Johannesburg, the other was off to work in the UK for 1 - 2 years. Either London or Glasgow. He was nice, I wish I had been a true Scot and given him contact details in case he was up this way. I suck. I never even got his name. I think that's the beauty of backpacking though. People start to get realistic. They realise that they can't keep in touch with everyone, so they enjoy each other's company for what it is, a few brief hours, one night, and then just keep the memories. No complication, its like the unwritten rule of backpacking. It's just like wee John told me, It's easier to get from A to B if you make friends along the way. That drunk man knew his stuff.
I then got myself tipsy in the airport on a liqueur. AND if you thought Prestwick was bad, try flying out of Ciampino. It was horrid. After getting tipsy, the plane being delayed, and the travel pills kicking in, I was almost unconscious in the airport.
I finished reading the Catcher in the Rye on the train to central, where I had my mum come pick me up because I was in so much foot pain agony.
I even met another solo traveller on the train to Central and he had a strange accent, but he was actually English, living in Inverness, and was in Rome for the diabetes conference too... AND I kid you not, he said the reason he had a strange accent was because he had been in Italy for those few days and he picked up the accent. OH SHUT UP. No one picks up an accent that quickly...
but apparently he does.
Wednesday, 17 September 2008
Today's thought...
... ... for my wedding pictures (if/when), I will take them all myself. I will find a wall to put my camera on, then I will set the timer and run.
Fact.
Fact.
Sunday, 7 September 2008
Twas the Night Before Vikkimas (well two nights ago it was)
So, I should have been more on the ball, but I just had this idea... let's see if I can get it to work.
The night before christmas is my FAVOURITE christmas story. I have this amazing book that I've had since I was a child, and it's my joint favourite christmas book along with the first nativity and the one that ends in 'who delivers presents to santa claus.'
Here we go.
The night before Vikkimas
'Twas the night before Vikkimas, when all through the gaff
Only Zero was stirring, and she was causing a faff;
The converse were heaped by the window with care,
In hopes that St Vikk soon would be there;
Vikki was nestled all snug in her bed,
While visions of swimming pools splashed in her head;
And Zero with her whiskers, curled up on my lap,
Had just settled down for a long September's nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The streetlights shone on the new-fallen glass
And made them all orange-y, and sparkley in their mass.
When, what to my wondering eyes should manifest,
But a miniature Ka, and eight of her friendliest ,
With an awesome wee driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Vikk.
More rapid than Leo-Pards her amigas they came,
And she whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Annie! now, Mary! now, Toni and Blair!
On, Eilidh! on Charla! on, Jeannie and Claire!
To the top of the stars! to the top of the mall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
As superheroes go St Vikk she can fly,
When they all fly together the stars twinkle in the sky,
So up to the house-top the friends they all flew,
With the sleigh full of M&Ms, and St. Vikk too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roofs
The prancing and dancing of skills' hoofs.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Through the window St. Vikk flew with a bound.
She was dressed in a Leo-Tard, cape and tights,
And her hair was all flowing, her muscles were a sight;
A bag of M&Ms she had flung on her back,
And she looked like a junkie that had just found some crack.
Her eyes -- how they twinkled! her dimples how merry!
Her cheeks were like roses, her nose like a cherry!
Her sharp wee mouth looked ready to lash,
And the dint in her chin took the attention off her tash;
She chewed M&Ms held tight in her teeth,
And the stars encircled her head like a wreath;
She had a round face and a wee pot belly,
She loved music, and movies but not really the telly.
She was skinny and short, a right fiesty Scot,
And I laughed when I saw her, in spite of what i'd been taught;
A wink of her eye and a twist of her head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
She spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And replaced all the converse ; but wouldn't share the M&Ms – the jerk,
And laying her finger aside of her nose,
And giving a nod, squashed it in and flattened her nose;
She flew to her ka, to her team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard her exclaim, ere she drove out of sight,
"Happy Vikkimas to all, and to all a good-night."
The night before christmas is my FAVOURITE christmas story. I have this amazing book that I've had since I was a child, and it's my joint favourite christmas book along with the first nativity and the one that ends in 'who delivers presents to santa claus.'
Here we go.
The night before Vikkimas
'Twas the night before Vikkimas, when all through the gaff
Only Zero was stirring, and she was causing a faff;
The converse were heaped by the window with care,
In hopes that St Vikk soon would be there;
Vikki was nestled all snug in her bed,
While visions of swimming pools splashed in her head;
And Zero with her whiskers, curled up on my lap,
Had just settled down for a long September's nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The streetlights shone on the new-fallen glass
And made them all orange-y, and sparkley in their mass.
When, what to my wondering eyes should manifest,
But a miniature Ka, and eight of her friendliest ,
With an awesome wee driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Vikk.
More rapid than Leo-Pards her amigas they came,
And she whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Annie! now, Mary! now, Toni and Blair!
On, Eilidh! on Charla! on, Jeannie and Claire!
To the top of the stars! to the top of the mall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
As superheroes go St Vikk she can fly,
When they all fly together the stars twinkle in the sky,
So up to the house-top the friends they all flew,
With the sleigh full of M&Ms, and St. Vikk too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roofs
The prancing and dancing of skills' hoofs.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Through the window St. Vikk flew with a bound.
She was dressed in a Leo-Tard, cape and tights,
And her hair was all flowing, her muscles were a sight;
A bag of M&Ms she had flung on her back,
And she looked like a junkie that had just found some crack.
Her eyes -- how they twinkled! her dimples how merry!
Her cheeks were like roses, her nose like a cherry!
Her sharp wee mouth looked ready to lash,
And the dint in her chin took the attention off her tash;
She chewed M&Ms held tight in her teeth,
And the stars encircled her head like a wreath;
She had a round face and a wee pot belly,
She loved music, and movies but not really the telly.
She was skinny and short, a right fiesty Scot,
And I laughed when I saw her, in spite of what i'd been taught;
A wink of her eye and a twist of her head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
She spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And replaced all the converse ; but wouldn't share the M&Ms – the jerk,
And laying her finger aside of her nose,
And giving a nod, squashed it in and flattened her nose;
She flew to her ka, to her team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard her exclaim, ere she drove out of sight,
"Happy Vikkimas to all, and to all a good-night."
Birthing Day. MARY VIKKIMAS.
Yo Yiggidy Yo.
Mary Vikkimas to one and to all a goodnight. That gives me an idea... hmmm.
Indeed, the birthing day came and went.
The week itself was quite spectacular and this forthcoming week might just be as entertaining.
We'll see. :)
The birthing day involved a minute amount of work, cheese toasties, the goonies, hot chocolate with Jeannie, movies with jeannie, and a spectacular giant Rice Krispie Cake.
OH YEAH. Easter officially came early and in a giant sized form. Air High Five.
Pretty good don't you think :) thank you Anne.
Jeannie gave me the most amazing brooch as well. Which I love... totally kick ass.. .it's called cosmic mess or 80s vomit.
I'll have to photograph that later.
Mary Vikkimas to one and to all a goodnight. That gives me an idea... hmmm.
Indeed, the birthing day came and went.
The week itself was quite spectacular and this forthcoming week might just be as entertaining.
We'll see. :)
The birthing day involved a minute amount of work, cheese toasties, the goonies, hot chocolate with Jeannie, movies with jeannie, and a spectacular giant Rice Krispie Cake.
OH YEAH. Easter officially came early and in a giant sized form. Air High Five.
Pretty good don't you think :) thank you Anne.
Jeannie gave me the most amazing brooch as well. Which I love... totally kick ass.. .it's called cosmic mess or 80s vomit.
I'll have to photograph that later.
Thursday, 4 September 2008
One. (Mary Vikkimas Steve.)
It is indeed Vikkimas Steve.
Two years ago I named this day then Steve Irwin died.
Sorry steve...
sorry whichever steve had to die today.
So, One - Swimming, sleeping, eating cheese, rolling stones.
Swimming is the highlight I suppose.
I came home so exercised and energised and happy.
I'm watching good will hunting just now, it's a strange one, but I appreciate some of the quotes about soul mates, and taking chances on people and love.
Let's push that to the side, get on about the stats and go to bed.
I have 8 minutes left of technically being 24... although if we are being mega technical I was born at 23:37pm.
There was an ad for iPhone 3G... that can only mean that not enough people are buying. Fact.
I heard that in Poland Apple had to pay people to pretend to queue up to buy one.
Funny.
Stats.
200m Front
200m Breast
200m Front Legs only with flippers (OH YES, FLIPPERS AMAZING)
100m Breast Legs only with flippers
100m Back Legs only with flippers
100m front legs flippers
100m breast legs flipper
100m butterfly legs flippers
100m back legs flippers
100m front crawl flippers and paddles
100m breast flippers and paddles
100m butterfly flippers and paddles
100m back flippers and paddles
200m front crawl paddles only
200m front crawl
100m swim down
2100m in about an hour and 7 minutes.
Two years ago I named this day then Steve Irwin died.
Sorry steve...
sorry whichever steve had to die today.
So, One - Swimming, sleeping, eating cheese, rolling stones.
Swimming is the highlight I suppose.
I came home so exercised and energised and happy.
I'm watching good will hunting just now, it's a strange one, but I appreciate some of the quotes about soul mates, and taking chances on people and love.
Let's push that to the side, get on about the stats and go to bed.
I have 8 minutes left of technically being 24... although if we are being mega technical I was born at 23:37pm.
There was an ad for iPhone 3G... that can only mean that not enough people are buying. Fact.
I heard that in Poland Apple had to pay people to pretend to queue up to buy one.
Funny.
Stats.
200m Front
200m Breast
200m Front Legs only with flippers (OH YES, FLIPPERS AMAZING)
100m Breast Legs only with flippers
100m Back Legs only with flippers
100m front legs flippers
100m breast legs flipper
100m butterfly legs flippers
100m back legs flippers
100m front crawl flippers and paddles
100m breast flippers and paddles
100m butterfly flippers and paddles
100m back flippers and paddles
200m front crawl paddles only
200m front crawl
100m swim down
2100m in about an hour and 7 minutes.
Two
Live Music.
It was all about the live music last night.
Glasgow has some of the best venues in the world.
And thanks to Dris Chaines, I was able to see the Dodos with the very awesome Mary 'the Skills' Mills and Jeanie.
Mega.
Their co-ordination and timing was incredible, and we speculated in the car that they are more than likely trained professional music students trying to pretend to be rough, rugged and accidently talented.
A pretty good two though.
That, and I had a violin lesson, and watched columbo while working from home during the day.
I've been wondering if it's sad or quite normal that my daily activities in just seven days can actually sum up and cullminate my entire life.
Perhaps that's the way it's meant to be though. But then I am just skimming the surface and not actually doing much more than shoe horning ideas.
It was all about the live music last night.
Glasgow has some of the best venues in the world.
And thanks to Dris Chaines, I was able to see the Dodos with the very awesome Mary 'the Skills' Mills and Jeanie.
Mega.
Their co-ordination and timing was incredible, and we speculated in the car that they are more than likely trained professional music students trying to pretend to be rough, rugged and accidently talented.
A pretty good two though.
That, and I had a violin lesson, and watched columbo while working from home during the day.
I've been wondering if it's sad or quite normal that my daily activities in just seven days can actually sum up and cullminate my entire life.
Perhaps that's the way it's meant to be though. But then I am just skimming the surface and not actually doing much more than shoe horning ideas.
Wednesday, 3 September 2008
How Do You Get Great Ideas?
Ideo are a design company that I hold in high regard. If Fabrica would ever reply to me I would be applying for jobs with them... or doing my masters in design writing in New Yoik.
Anyway.
I just downloaded a widget that asks a new question every day.
Today's question is: How do you get great ideas?
The grammar seems a little incorrect, but who am I to judge?
My thoughts are: that great ideas are not gotten. They do not just appear. They are not something that wakes you up in the middle of the night and by morning you are done masterminding your ideas.
A great idea is something that grew from an idea.
I'm going to use a quick and partially appropriate metaphor. It is like (or a simile if you're Ed Byrne) the Great Wall of China. It is great. It started with an idea, it started with a thought, it started with one brick, and one pair of hands, followed by many thousands of others. There was one person though that laid the first stone/brick.
And then as the chinese proverb says 'Many hand make right wolk.'
That's what an idea is. It's not something forced, and more importantly it comes from the want to fulfill and need (rather than the need to fulfill a want).
That is how great ideas come to be. From one thought, that is built on over time, and developed by other people to the point of it becoming great. More than likely your 'Great Idea' will far succeed your own meandering existence.
Anyway.
I just downloaded a widget that asks a new question every day.
Today's question is: How do you get great ideas?
The grammar seems a little incorrect, but who am I to judge?
My thoughts are: that great ideas are not gotten. They do not just appear. They are not something that wakes you up in the middle of the night and by morning you are done masterminding your ideas.
A great idea is something that grew from an idea.
I'm going to use a quick and partially appropriate metaphor. It is like (or a simile if you're Ed Byrne) the Great Wall of China. It is great. It started with an idea, it started with a thought, it started with one brick, and one pair of hands, followed by many thousands of others. There was one person though that laid the first stone/brick.
And then as the chinese proverb says 'Many hand make right wolk.'
That's what an idea is. It's not something forced, and more importantly it comes from the want to fulfill and need (rather than the need to fulfill a want).
That is how great ideas come to be. From one thought, that is built on over time, and developed by other people to the point of it becoming great. More than likely your 'Great Idea' will far succeed your own meandering existence.
Three.
Was today Three?
Nothing significant happened... and therein lies the significance.
I got the train to work, I came home, listened to some podcasts, ate eggs, ate weetos... the weetos were the most significant thing... they were star shaped, and they remind me of my childhood.
I also listened to a lot of punk music today and wore my 'My Ruin' pants.
There are few things in life that make me really really happy to own them my My Ruin pants are one. They are the epitome of comfortable - I wish i knew where Yael got them from to print on them, so that I could wear them forever. They will be the one pair I miss the most when ... if...
Anyway.
I also attempted to catch up on some of the freelance freelance stuff people have asked me to do and I've come to realise that I profusely suck at a lot of simple design things.
Hmmm.
Anyway... hopefully swimming tomorrow. And if anyone sees any cheap flight to Italy I want to go this time next week for Donna's wado. LastminuteVikki.com
I want to be as wonderful as angela lansbury.
I also want to be in a musical.
Man I feel sick.. too much screenage and not enough non-screenage... I hate my life for the amount of screen time, it makes me want to vomit.
I did however read some really interesting things in Adbusters today. But that will have to keep.
Love.
Nothing significant happened... and therein lies the significance.
I got the train to work, I came home, listened to some podcasts, ate eggs, ate weetos... the weetos were the most significant thing... they were star shaped, and they remind me of my childhood.
I also listened to a lot of punk music today and wore my 'My Ruin' pants.
There are few things in life that make me really really happy to own them my My Ruin pants are one. They are the epitome of comfortable - I wish i knew where Yael got them from to print on them, so that I could wear them forever. They will be the one pair I miss the most when ... if...
Anyway.
I also attempted to catch up on some of the freelance freelance stuff people have asked me to do and I've come to realise that I profusely suck at a lot of simple design things.
Hmmm.
Anyway... hopefully swimming tomorrow. And if anyone sees any cheap flight to Italy I want to go this time next week for Donna's wado. LastminuteVikki.com
I want to be as wonderful as angela lansbury.
I also want to be in a musical.
Man I feel sick.. too much screenage and not enough non-screenage... I hate my life for the amount of screen time, it makes me want to vomit.
I did however read some really interesting things in Adbusters today. But that will have to keep.
Love.
Monday, 1 September 2008
Five.
Today was all about church. And, as always, I slept in. Donna and I pitched up around 12:30, just in time for the closing talk prayer and hymn (not in that order) and the munch and migle.
I came home and busted the tunes on the violin, chatted to Toni on the phone, watched Oliver and ate dinner with my family. Watched the Work and the Glory and then chatted to kayleigh for a gazillion hours. And also caught up in 10 minutes with Lorrainium on facebook chat.
So I suppose the symbolic happening of this day: day five - is violin, mormonism family and friends.
25 years of my life culminated in seven days.
This is the song I was playing on the violin earlier.
I can only get the first line to sound like this guy plays it, the second is close and the rest is just a disaster. Haha. I'll get there though. It's book four of the Suzuki method of teaching so I'm not sure if that means it's grade four or if it's actually a higher grade than that. I should really check that out.
I just drank some chamomile tea so i'm now pretty much tired, subdued and ready for a bit of a zoning out. I wish I had something interesting to write about, I blatently don't at this time, hence why we're sqeezing significance out of the days impending my birthday.
I, want to go to Italy for Donna's Wado...
and It's my birthday weekend this coming Friday... any suggestions to what I could do?
And work emailed me on Friday and told me that there was probably no work on for me this coming week but they would let me know on monday, so I'm just going to sit tight and enjoy the time I have off. I'm almost finished Mark's Sister's book, and I need to get cracking on other bits and pieces i've been holding on to for a while.
I should really start my book too, I just need more travelling time and a more balanced balance of balance-ness. I need to go East.
I am just rambling now. Ramble on.
I came home and busted the tunes on the violin, chatted to Toni on the phone, watched Oliver and ate dinner with my family. Watched the Work and the Glory and then chatted to kayleigh for a gazillion hours. And also caught up in 10 minutes with Lorrainium on facebook chat.
So I suppose the symbolic happening of this day: day five - is violin, mormonism family and friends.
25 years of my life culminated in seven days.
This is the song I was playing on the violin earlier.
I can only get the first line to sound like this guy plays it, the second is close and the rest is just a disaster. Haha. I'll get there though. It's book four of the Suzuki method of teaching so I'm not sure if that means it's grade four or if it's actually a higher grade than that. I should really check that out.
I just drank some chamomile tea so i'm now pretty much tired, subdued and ready for a bit of a zoning out. I wish I had something interesting to write about, I blatently don't at this time, hence why we're sqeezing significance out of the days impending my birthday.
I, want to go to Italy for Donna's Wado...
and It's my birthday weekend this coming Friday... any suggestions to what I could do?
And work emailed me on Friday and told me that there was probably no work on for me this coming week but they would let me know on monday, so I'm just going to sit tight and enjoy the time I have off. I'm almost finished Mark's Sister's book, and I need to get cracking on other bits and pieces i've been holding on to for a while.
I should really start my book too, I just need more travelling time and a more balanced balance of balance-ness. I need to go East.
I am just rambling now. Ramble on.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
