Little Things…

Yesterday I got on plane (yes another one) and headed south east for a week of wallowing in Abu Dhabi.

Abu where (or why) many of you may be saying.

Abu Dhabi is the capital of the United Arab Emirates, a tiny country near the tip of the Arabian peninsula overlooking the Persian Gulf. It is a little under 8 hours flight time away from London and as to what I’m doing here, at this time of year day time temperatures average between 28-30C, I am in serious need of some sunbeams and there was a ripper of a deal.

So enough of the background. Let’s get to the point of my story.

I arrived last night at around 9pm and after making my way though the cacophony of the terminal and spending more than an hour shuffling with the rest of the queue through passport control, I found my ‘pre-booked transfer’ man and was duly on my way to the hotel in the lovely leather back seat of a white Audi. With a driver that sensed I was too tired to chat.

A little thing, but nonetheless appreciated.

My room is lovely and spacious – on the 7th floor overlooking the lights (at night) and the white sands of the private beach (during the day). The Traders Hotel, Qaryat Al Beri is a 4 star hotel and yet there is a robe, slippers, a gigantic bed with an assortment of pillows and a fully equipped bathroom: when I say fully equipped I mean not just the requisite toilet and basin but also a bidet, a big bath and a separate shower (not a shower over a bath).

I also found two complimentary bottles of water on the bedside table – these are rarely complimentary or offered (versus being asked for) in multiples – and there are both English (3-prong) and European (2-pin) plugs in the room. 

A further 3 bottles of water have been left in my room today. Oh and the wi-fi is everywhere, fast and completely free.

Such small attentive details create such lovely looked-after moments, don’t they?

After the haunting sounds of the Muslim call to prayer echoed across the hazy dawn sky this morning, it was off to explore the breakfast buffet and not only did I have a delicious, freshly cooked omelet but there was also turkey bacon. Yes turkey bacon – these things are of great significance when you don’t eat red meat. I do have turkey bacon at home but have not seen it anywhere on my travels so this was such a rare and happy find.

A post-breakfast stroll along the paved and scrupulously tidy boardwalk took me past several of the Shangri-La residences in the complex, the marina and into the souk. I’ll wander in the other direction tomorrow – apparently there’s a day spa nearby.

And then it was time to hit the beach. Free water (another 2 bottles) in a little esky was duly delivered along with 2 big towels to my sunlounger of choice. A further and even larger towel was wrapped over the mattress with the offer to replace this later in the afternoon. And I was about 10 steps away from a cooling, salty swim.

Little things people, it takes such little things to make me happy. 

I can hear the wailing call to prayer as I sit here wrapped in my borrowed robe typing away. The lights are appearing in the dark night sky and with Day 1 under my belt, I’m already feeling loose-limbed, sunkissed and deliciously relaxed. 

As-salamu alaykum (السلام عليكم) is the traditional Arabic greeting here and while it is used as ‘hello’, it actually translates as ‘peace be upon you’.  And I can confirm peeps that yes, peace is definitely what is happening up here on the 7th floor.

I can see nothing for it but to repeat the whole luscious process tomorrow.

Ma’a ssalama…
(See you soon…)

Water water everywhere

It’s the first of March and Spring has sprung. In the last week, our mild winter has melded softly into more blue sky days and some double digit temperatures. Bunches of green pointed leaves have broken through the soil and the anticipation of bright bursts of yellow daffodils lies hopefully in parks and gardens. It would appear that unusually, the heralding of Spring has corresponded with its calendar counterpart.

It’s come after months of storms and torrential rain which has put something of a dampener on the start of 2014 for many in the UK. And waging a watery war with this, one of the harbingers of climate change, brings us to this month’s Calendar Challenge from Simon DrewI was reading an article about the impact on rising sea levels this week. A report from the Institute of Mechanical Engineers released five years ago suggests that areas like London and the Norfolk Broads could be consigned to a watery grave if society’s impact on the environment continues unchecked. Images source: http://www.carbonmanagers.com

Ecologically speaking, one could argue that this small island nation has good reason to worry.  And yet on the other hand, a large – or certainly larger than it should be – proportion of the world’s population has no access to water.

A recent campaign by Water Aid UK shows a young girl walking more than two hours to draw ‘life-giving’ water from a muddy pool, dirty water that could kill her or her family. How often each day do we simply turn on the tap – to fill the kettle, brush our teeth or even take a drink of cool, clear, safe water?  Even with all of our efforts at limiting water waste, we live in our Western ‘bubble’ where having no access to a flushing toilet or a morning shower occurs not as a part of everyday life but rather as a short term immersive ‘experience’ in the realms of adventure travel.

So this year, I’ve started donating to Water Aid UK – as little as £10 per month is enough to fund a well to reach clean water far underground.

There are a myriad of ways to contribute more to the world we live in and this is my small step into this battle alongside the elements. But every journey starts by putting one foot in front of the other and along with my monetary contributions, I’m also hoping that tuning my environmental antenna to such a cause will lead to more opportunities to educate myself and understand how I can make a difference.

Oh and I’ve also resolved to stop grumbling about the rain.


Calendar Challenge 2014 – Back Catalogue

Keep calm and carry on

Sour grapes

 

On Bored Shopping…

Over the past year I have broadened my travel horizons to include several domestic flights in the USA and thus have discovered the delights of SkyMall. SkyMall is a quarterly magazine that can be found in the seat pockets on the majority of US domestic flights and allows passengers to shop online for a wide variety of items.

Having spent some time in airline retail during my career, I decided to have a flick through to see how things worked on the other side of the pond. Not for American passengers the high notes of the latest fragrances, the glittering array of designer watches and jewellery and the select range of premium travel accessories that I am used to considering in flight. No, you can buy a whole lot of other stuff on SkyMall

Where do I start?  

There’s furniture, lots of furniture – lamps, shelves, couches, tables, collapsible beds, bedroom suites and even a bidet sprayer for your bathroom (although I am not sure that this qualifies so much as furniture). 

There are various brands of shape wear to help you hold your ‘bits’ in a more preferred position. There are items designed to remedy everything from bad breath and skin tags to plantar fasciitis and sleep apnea. And there’s even a whole swag of stuff for your pets – 291 items in fact.

I had a bit of time on my hands while they were de-icing the various planes I sat on a few weeks back so I got to know this chaotic catalogue quite well and thought I’d share a few of my favourites with you.

Mounted Squirrel Head – $24.95.

Yes I know. It’s a rather random choice to begin with. But it did remind me of all of us sitting around waiting, waiting, waiting for flights to arrive and depart. There were a few faces in the boarding queues that looked a lot like this.

Write On Travel Map – $149.95


I love this. It combines my two of my great passions – scribbling and dreaming. Dreaming about where I might like to go next in the world and scribbling stuff down so I don’t forget that I thought about it in the first place. However it does seem that the little people of this world may be consigned to exploring the Southern hemisphere only.

Talking Dog Collar – $29.95


You record a message on the dog collar and activate it remotely – and you can change the message as often as you like. A day at the park suddenly took on a whole new lustre and I had a little chortle at the prospect of unsettling passers-by with a little pooch chatter, a bit like the old Candid Camera shows. I could see myself enjoying this for hours and hours…if I had a dog.

Hawaiian JellysTM – $39.95


There were a few offerings throughout the catalogue that claimed to ease a range of foot ailments (a particular bug bear of mine) but the range of Hawaiian JellysTM got my vote for sheer inventiveness. You could start with the tropical – Papaya, Mango, Lychee, Dragon Fruit or Coconut – branch out into a little Mysore Raspberry or Chuo Ume Plum or even scale new heights with Kilauea Volcano or Aouli Sky. America, land of the free and home of the endless choice.

40″ Foldable Photo Studio – $199.95


We actually have something similar in the office and it saves a whole lot of bother when it comes to getting product shots done. Might be a little more difficult to do head shots though.

Speaking of head shots I just had to show you this one.

The Zombie of Montclaire Moors – $99.95

Why? Just why would anyone buy this?

Or this for that matter.

SPAM Costume – $70.76


(Although after a few more hours sitting on planes I may have done just about anything to relieve the boredom!)

And last but not least there was a myriad of t-shirts on offer – these were just a few that made me laugh out loud.

(Seattle-A please note the pink box top right, my new mantra for life.)

So this is how I spend my time travelling…marvelling at the weird and wonderful and generally just keeping myself amused. 

After all, there’s only so much ‘cultural exploration’ a girl can take.

Image Source: all images are taken directly from the SkyMall.com website.

Commuting Gems…Private Eyes

I have been travelling again this week and with today being first day back in the office, I felt too tired to do my regular walk back up to Charing Cross station, choosing instead to duck into Westminster tube and change at Monument station for the right coloured line to get me home.

Day-dreaming about the event free weekend ahead of me, I wandered onto the platform at Bank station – it’s connected with the aforesaid Monument station via a short walk underground – and stood in my regular place, the one that means I get off at the right spot on my destination platform for an expeditious exit ahead of the hordes.

Checking the overhead screen to my left, I was pleased to note I had only two minutes to wait so I turned back to face patiently forward (boy I am getting ‘British!’) and found myself rewarded with a couple of commuting gems…


Commuting just got a whole lot more interesting. 

Shame I don’t subscribe to Sky really…

Yellow Peril…

In my last post I mentioned that I’d been travelling in the USA and one of the rare delights of hanging about (for hours!) in airport terminals is browsing through the local portfolio of magazines. The New Yorker is a bit of a fave so that’s found its way into my reading pile again. But I’ve uncovered a new candidate for my affections – Mental Floss – and having recently discovered their witty snippets on twitter (@mental_floss), I was delighted to find the magazine on the newsstand and spent part of my time Seattle-bound, devouring its pages.

Anyway this leads to the point of this post – flowers. In particular, yellow flowers. And not because it’s Valentine’s Day. 

(I’m a bit bah-humbug about Valentine’s Day and would much prefer to receive protestations of love all year ’round.)

No, it’s because I have just purchased my first daffodils of 2014.


This is a bunch from a prior year as mine haven’t bloomed yet. However I expect to get up tomorrow morning and seeing bright bobbing blossoms emerging from their green buds.

Sigh!

I do find such happiness in a simple (and inexpensive) bunch of cheerful daffs.

But according to Mental Floss, when it comes to a splash of golden colour, it’s not always sunshine and roses daffodils. In fact it could be downright perilous.

In Japan, a bunch of yellow flowers means ‘I’m jealous’ so green with envy seems not to apply in the land of the rising sun. In Peru, it’s a declaration of hatred while in Russia, the message is ‘let’s break up’, not exactly what you’d want to receive at any time of the year let alone on the 14th of February. 

But yellow flowers need not always be a declaration of your lack of affection. According to Mental Floss, if you are in Mexico, scattering marigolds over someone’s grave means ‘come back to Earth and visit me’…

Marigolds decorate this grave to encourage the soul to rise again

So on this St Valentine’s Day, if you’ve planned to say it with flowers, choosing yellow may not be the floral tribute your heart’s desire is looking for.

However, my source informs me that daffodils mean rebirth and new beginnings, regard and chivalry and ‘you’re the only one’.

So if I’m your ‘one’ – or even one of a special ‘few’ – you can feel free to send me some of these golden yellow trumpets any time of the year.

Sour grapes

It’s the 1st of February. Where did January go for heavens sake? It’s only just begun and the year is already whizzing by.

As promised, with the heralding of the new month comes the next instalment of the 2014 Calendar Challenge and February’s funny finds inspiration in the language of our childhood…

Image Source: Simon Drew’s Famous Phrases Calendar 2014

Now come on admit it. Your pre-school world was full of moo-cows and baa-lambs wasn’t it…

Anyway the sketch of these woolly warmers gassing over a vino or two reminds me that today is National Pisco Sour Day.

I know. Who knew?

Pisco is a powerful grape brandy created by both the Peruvians and the Chileans and forms the basis of the potent Pisco Sour cocktail. Each nation has a slightly different recipe but Peru pay homage to their national tipple on the first Saturday in February – today. And if you are in London, the kind folk at Londonist have published a list where you can sample the best/most authentic manifestations of this South American delight – just click here. If not, you’ll have to google your own list.

I first discovered the joys of pisco during a girls night out at the then newly opened Ceviche Peruvian Bar and Kitchen in London about 18 months ago but rather than sour grapes, it was passion that I found at the bar. Or rather Pasion de Ceviche: A delicious blend of ginger-infused pisco, passionfruit juice, prickly pear liqueur and honey that was so smooth and delicious I had four that night, firstly transferring from an early allegiance to Toro Mata (a cocktail combo of coffee, pisco and sugar syrup) and then duly convincing my three cocktail-ing compatriots to join me.

Unsurprisingly sour grapes were in short supply at our table that night.

Note to self: Must go back. Soon.

In other alcoholic news, just yesterday Lil Chicky posted this on Facebook…

It’s chocolate port…in a glass shoe-boot.

*Excited squealing*

What’s a girl to do? It’s just leading this ‘sweet’ Aussie lamb to alcoholic slaughter.

Baaa-mmer hey…

 

Our Strength Is In Our Roots

Our strength is in our roots and what we cling to.


It’s a quote from a book I received from Mum at Christmas – a photographic panorama of Melbourne by Ken Duncan. The quote sits next to a picture of the cottage of James Cook‘s parents in Fitzroy Gardens, dismantled and transported – much like many of Australia’s forefathers – from Yorkshire in 1933 to be reassembled as a testament to this English explorer who first made landfall in Botany Bay on 29th April 1766. In any case, the pictures are wonderful and remind me of the unique character of this city on the other side of the world that I used to call home.

I’ve just returned from the Phoenix Cinema where, on this wet grey afternoon I watched The Butler, the story of one man’s life throughout the enormous changes of the 20th and 21st centuries. Having seen 12 Years A Slave a couple of weeks ago, I was interested in this alternative take on the slave movement and the role of black people in society over the past 100 years. And while ’12 Years’ was a great (and brutal) movie, I loved how The Butler spanned generations in time, crossing the eras of the civil rights movement with Martin Luther King and Malcolm X’s Black Panthers, the Vietnam War, apartheid and the election of Obama as America’s first black president in 2008.

 

Well today is Australia Day and I have found myself quite reflective about my feelings towards my native country. Australia Day actually pays tribute to the arrival of the First Fleet at Sydney Cove, eleven ships filled with convicts and a small contingent of freemen and soldiers who would settle the harsh and distant land. There remains much controversy about this, particularly around the role of the indigenous people in this pioneering ‘tale’ but while there might be parallels with the American tale, it’s only meant as the starting point rather than the purpose of this post.

It was an interesting thing to do on my national day, go to the cinema and watch the history of another child of The Empire unfold. And it took me back to last Wednesday night when I saw Christos Tsiolkas, author of The Slap (The Book Nook #40 – 2011), interviewed by The Guardian’s John Mullan. This controversial novel, set in suburban Melbourne, for me lays bare the legend of the lucky country. 

When I read the book back in 2011, I felt both shocked and vindicated by its truthfulness – that beneath the laconic veneer of suburban life might lie a sense of seething resignation and resentment. I was also unprepared for Tsiolkas, a thoughtful and perceptive Greek Australian who talked openly about wanting to write about modern Australia as it truly was (and is). We are close(ish) in age so grew up in parallel Melbournes, chasing teenage dreams across the 80s, traversing (even if only figuratively) the realities of adulthood in the 90s and finding our respective ways into the new millennium so despite not being Greek, so I could relate to his reference points.

Tsiolkas talked about a grasping and selfish society and lamented a pervading sense of unkindness (although I would say that is not something that is limited to Australia’s sandy shores). He also mentioned that multiculturalism has become less overt Down Under, the veritable babel of past playgrounds full of ethnic variety a distant memory. I remember a conversation with a visiting Irishman in Young & Jackson’s (pub) in 2003 and how indignant I was that he would even suggest that Australia was a nation of racists.

Little did I know how the rest of world ‘out there’ looked and how it would all appear now I look from the outside in.

But there are many wonderful things about being Australian to cling to. Our willingness to chip in and lend a hand, our ironic sense of humour, our ‘everyman’ classless-ness. The sense of exploration and willingness to play beyond our current backyard – after all there are almost half a million Australians living in the UK alone. Our laid-back optimism and our sporting obsessions. Our outdoor lifestyle and our foodie culture. Our coffee – great, great coffee. And our vast open spaces. Sharp blue skies, stark landscapes, sparkling coasts and ‘architectural’ landscapes – wonder after wonder shaped by Mother Nature herself.

So as Australia Day in this part of the world draws to a close, it’s a big Aussie cheers from this Australian abroad who, despite finding food for her soul under the grey skies of London, still finds her heart – and her roots – Down Under.

Image Source: http://www.kenduncan.com

It Must Be Saint, Nick…

Apologies for the grammar peeps…

Here in old London town, there is just one sleep to go until the fat man in the red suit brings his bounty (although by rights all of you Down Under should be tucked up in bed by now, listening for the pitter patter of tiny hooves on the rooftop).

Having been left with limited options by my seasonal shopping sloth, UPS has been the mandatory vehicle of choice for my deliveries Down Under. So in a final burst of commercial Christmas chicanery, I’ve been hunting for a few alternative methods of delivery to ensure my goodies make it across the miles in time for future big days.

Firstly bbc.co.uk have reported that the good folk at Amazon are working on Prime Air, a delivery service that will provide customers with their order by drone…


How very cool. But it’s five years away, needs to get through a regulator or two and I imagine it would take rather a long time for my less-than-2.3kg parcel to reach Australia (although interestingly Australia does allow the use of unmanned aircraft for commercial use). Perhaps not very practical.

For more immediate gratification, I really like this idea from West Jet. Turn up at the airport, make your special request…et voila! It’s a carousel of Christmas that meets you at the other end of your journey…


Now that’s my kind of arrival. However, this might just be leaving things a little too much to chance so it’s back to the drawing board.

And then I came across an article on Nick Saint. Who runs a delivery firm.


So it would appear that my search is over. 


It must be Saint, Nick.

One sleep to go til we find out whether you’ve been naughty or nice peeps…are you ready?

The Art Of Giving…


That’s right peeps. Just 4 days to go. And I’ll bet there are a few of you who are feeling a little stressed by your unfinished Christmas shopping. 

Having to post mine overseas means that I cannot rely on a Christmas week dash around the shops but I admit that things did get a bit ‘skinny’ this year. The most difficult part is to find interesting yet post-friendly gifts – and I get so delighted when I find the perfect thing – so each year there’s a bit of hunting around and inspired choosing to avoid sending yet more scarves, jewellery or gadgets. And in my shopping sorties this year, I’ve seen some corkers.

For the green thumb…

 


Edens Paper‘s plant-able wrapping paper has seeds embedded into the paper. Rip off your carrots, stick ‘them’ in the soil, water and watch them grow. In onion, tomato, chilli, broccoli and of course carrot, one sheet will set you back $9.95 or buy a mixed pack containing one of each for $39.95.

For the geographically challenged…


This fabulous 120 piece jigsaw puzzle from Ding Studio features all of London’s postcode districts. If you fancy yourself a true local and think you know your way about, set yourself a challenge by completing it without looking at the picture. It’s available from The National Gallery shop for £15.

For the young…


I’m led to believe that one of the many frustrations of having healthy, growing kids is just that – they grow out of everything! Go Plae has come up with a way of letting you customise shoes for your little ones to allow for their growing feet. There’s even a variety pack of decorative bands so that young fashionistas can style for every outfit. Only available in stores stateside but you can order on-line at http://www.goplae.com/

For the young at heart…


Remember pinball machines? In my teens I could make a dollar’s worth of 20 cent pieces last a really long time waiting for Mum to finish work at our local tenpin bowling centre. Then ‘pinnies’ got complex and expensive, I got interested in other things and now when I venture back, it’s all over in an instant. But with this Duo Pinball Controller I might be able to get in a bit of practice and see off all those young things. Available for £11.99 at 
http://www.iwantoneofthose.com.

For the nostalgic just plain weird…


This one fascinates and disturbs me in turns. To keep those who’ve passed on close by, this service from And Vinyly will press their ashes into a vinyl record. You get to choose the soundtrack (24mins – 12mins each side) and then share your revolutionary memorial with up to 30 recipients. The basic package (for 30 discs) will cost you £3,000. *gulp* I am tempted to say something tacky about turning in their grave…

And speaking of corkers, for the aspiring sommelier…

…oh hang on, that’s my Naked Wines delivery. Happy Christmas to me!

Remember there’s only 4 sleeps to go but there’s still plenty of time…just.

If you get your skates on…

Photobombed

Here we are at the first day of September. Summer has ended (although it’s rather sunshine-y at Gidday HQ today) and Autumn will start its annual pilgrimage across the northern hemisphere, creeping in with nippy mornings and shorter days. The leaves will…

…hang on. Stop right there. This is not meant to be a post about Autumn!

Take 2:

Here we are at the first day of September. And today is Father’s Day in Australia.

So in honour of celebrating the man that is my Dad and warm the cockles of your hearts, I though it was time to do a little roasting….Gidday-style.

Let’s start at…well, the start.  Here’s where it all began for us…

There’s an ‘okay now what do I do with this?’ look here.

But soon he got into the swing of things…blowing out candles (an important life skill even today)…

…and giving fatherly advice (while I practise my ‘whatever’ look).

The decades flashed by and a few years ago, Dad swapped the city for a life roaming around the countryside.

This was taken in New Zealand but I have seen many a similar picture of Dad-and-Stepmum in Down Under’s very own great outdoors.

His days now consist of travelling to outback properties and national parks around Australia, ‘homestead-sitting’, painting, mending fences – generally lending a hand wherever needed – and visiting family and friends, whether they may be other itinerants or those of more fixed abode. Dad even put his new-found construction skills to work at Christmas, stepping up to the challenge of making this for our Christmas Day host…

…and seemed rather pleased to consider some liquid refreshment after the big unveiling.

Dad’s also become quite the photographer and newsletters are often filled with amazing pictures of the local flora and fauna he finds on their travels. But it’s a dangerous job you know – not at all for the faint-hearted…
And nor has it been to have two rather independent and opinionated daughters living a few hours flight away for most of our lives. Which is why our recent frolicking about in old Melbourne Town last December was such a great testament to the passing of the years and the changes in our relationship…
…because growing up, I would never have credited Dad with photobombing! (By the way, that’s me on the left with Lil Chicky and the old man.)

So there’s only one thing left to do and that is to say Happy Father’s Day to my old man.

May you keep finding ways to surprise us all.