Category Archives: Expat moments

A Rusty Old Ute And 8 Mighty Roos…

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Gidday peeps! Hope you’ve all had a fab Christmas (or however you celebrate). I’ve been lounging around, drinking champers and out and about swotting up on a bit of history (but not all at once you understand).

With Christmas done but still a week left on holiday, I’ve got quite a list of things ‘to do’ but decided to open up my emails this morning to see what the world at large had been up to.

Amongst the post Christmas/Boxing Day and End of Year sales (with even more discounts), there were a couple of missives from Mum. And in response to my last post, she had received an Aussie rendition of Twas the Night Before Christmas so before we say our final farewells to the little dude’s official birthday celebrations, here’s one more post Chrissy post script for you to enjoy Oz style.

It’s a bewdy!

‘Twas the night before Christmas; there wasn’t a sound.
Not a possum was stirring; no-one was around.
We’d left on the table some tucker and beer,
Hoping that Santa Claus soon would be here;

We children were snuggled up safe in our beds,
While dreams of pavlova danced ’round in our heads;
And Mum in her nightie, and Dad in his shorts,
Had just settled down to watch TV sports.
 
When outside the house a mad ruckus arose;
Loud squeaking and banging woke us from our doze.
We ran to the screen door, peeked cautiously out,
snuck onto the deck, then let out a shout.

Guess what had woken us up from our snooze,
But a rusty old Utepulled by eight mighty ‘roos.
The cheerful man driving was giggling with glee,
And we both knew at once who this plump bloke must be.

Now, I’m telling the truth it’s all dinki-di,
Those eight kangaroos fairly soared through the sky.
Santa leaned out the window to pull at the reins,
And encouraged the ‘roos, by calling their names.
‘Now, Kylie! Now, Kirsty! Now, Shazza and Shane!
On Kipper! On, Skipper! On, Bazza and Wayne!
Park up on that water tank. Grab a quick drink,
I’ll scoot down the gum tree. Be back in a wink!’

So up to the tank those eight kangaroos flew,
With the Ute full of toys, and Santa Claus too.
He slid down the gum tree and jumped to the ground,
Then in through the window he sprang with a bound.

He had bright sunburned cheeks and a milky white beard.
A jolly old joker was how he appeared.
He wore red stubby shorts and old thongs on his feet,
And a hat of deep crimson as shade from the heat.
 
His eyes – bright as opals – Oh! How they twinkled!
And, like a goanna, his skin was quite wrinkled!
His shirt was stretched over a round bulging belly
Which shook when he moved, like a plate full of jelly.

A fat stack of prezzies he flung from his back,
And he looked like a swaggie unfastening his pack.
He spoke not a word, but bent down on one knee,
To position our goodies beneath the yule tree.

Surfboard and footy-ball shapes for us two.
And for Dad, tongs to use on the new barbeque.
A mysterious package he left for our Mum,
Then he turned and he winked and he held up his thumb;

He strolled out on deck and his ‘roos came on cue;
Flung his sack in the back and prepared to shoot through.
He bellowed out loud as they swooped past the gates-
MERRY CHRISTMAS to all, and goodonya, MATES!’

A Visit From St Nicholas…

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Well my The Nutcracker Advent Calender is empty and all the little storybooks are lined up below it so this can only mean one thing – it’s Christmas Eve and Santa Claus, Father Christmas, St Nicholas, Sinterklaas or however you know him, has packed up his sleigh and is on his way.
Source: pinterest
This morning I picked up my Top 500 Poems to see what had been penned about Christmas many years ago and in scanning the table of contents, one titled ‘A Visit from St. Nicholas’ seemed appropriate. Imagine my surprise when I turned to page 475 and read the first line – ‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house’.  
A Visit from St Nicholas was written in 1822 by Clement Clarke Moore, a professor of religion in New York. He refused to have it published, but a friend sent it to an out of town newspaper where it was published – anonymously – in time for Christmas 1823. Moore eventually included it in his collected works 15 years later but continued to maintain that it was a ‘mere trifle’

Every festive season since I was ‘knee high to a grasshopper’, my head has been filled with little snippets like ’twas the night before Christmas’, ‘a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer’ and those famous reindeer names – Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, ‘Donna’ and Blitzen.

This mere trifle has continued to shape the excitement and anticipation of Christmas Eve for children (big and small) the world over so it seems a fitting finale to this year’s Gidday Christmas Countdown. So I leave you to embrace the child within and wish you all the very best of everything your heart desires this Christmas.

Kym x
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A Visit from St. Nicholas
‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugarplums danced in their heads;
And mamma in her ‘kerchief’, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’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 moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the luster of mid-day to the objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:
“Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on, Cupid! on Donder and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!”
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With a sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
Illustration by F.O.C. Darley at about.com
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a pedlar just opening his pack.
His eyes – how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of his pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of an eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle,
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
“Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good-night.”
~ Clement Clarke Moore 1779-1863 ~

3 Sleeps To Go…A Little Pre-Christmas Cheer

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This week I have been in and out of central London to meet with friends for a spot of Christmas cheer. There’s something about Christmas lights that make things all glistening and beautiful and so I wanted to share a little of this week’s Christmas sparkle with those of you who have spent 2011 following the Gidday journey.

If you remember, my meanderings began with 20 sleeps to go and a wide-eyed wander down Oxford Street.

Creating Christmas magic in Oxford Street

And last week I was dashing down Regent Street to meet friends for a pre-Christmas dinner and managed to snap a couple of sneaky pics in the middle of the bustling crowds:

Christmas lights in Regent Street

So this week it was time to slow down and venture further afield to discover a little more magic:

The famous Liberty of London storefront

Liberty are renowned for their Christmas windows…

…but I have to say that, while these are impressive, my heart still belongs to Christmas windows of department store Myer in my hometown of Melbourne.

Source: Rachel Gray, weekendnotes.com

Anyway, I continued on to fall across that bastion of all things hip, Carnaby Street:

Hmmm the lights look…interesting
They’re still um interesting close up!

I finally made my way down to the back streets below Piccadilly Circus to meet my friend…

I do love stumbling across London’s amazing churches like this one on the corner of Jermyn and Duke of York Streets

…and after drinks were done, I was off for another festive feed at Westfield London. I was a little early so I managed some sparkly snaps here too.

This was hard to capture but is really spectacular. This is over an ‘outdoor’ arcade featuring lots of restaurants along the left and the shopping centre entrances to your right. I’m standing outside John Lewis after walking from the tube station close by. Gorgeous!
This is the unadorned ceiling inside – kind of attractive in a wavy way right?
…and their Christmas lights?  Oh no….

So there was nothing left to do but join my Aussie friend, feast on fab Mexican street food at Wahaca and enjoy my first foray into the world of churros…

Churros – gone! Let’s face it, anything with this much chocolate is always festive

…before heading home to bask in my very own Christmas Lights at Gidday HQ.

Hope this adds a little sparkle to your Christmas!

ps…the post title says it all peeps. Just 3 sleeps to go. Just naggin’ sayin’

Bet You Thought I Forgot…

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It’s been a busy time here at Gidday HQ and with the end of the year fast approaching, there has been a notable absence of a tradition that has no doubt left long-time Gidday-ers breathing a sigh of relief wondering what has happened.

But fear not.

As I walked through London mid November, the lights were up in Regent and Oxford Streets.

Last weekend I braved London’s Southbank Market to do a little inspired present shopping.

Mum’s annual cross-the-miles Advent Calendar arrived last week in plenty of time.

This year’s theme is The Nutcracker and instead of chocolates or gifts, each window contains a little booklet which tells a part of the story.

Today, the Gidday tree went up and got all adorned with the trinkets from my travels (note to self: if one wants to travel next year and collect more bright, shiny objects, buy a bigger tree)…

…and the Christmas paper has been unearthed from its new home following last week’s frenzy of post-Freecycle nesting.

So my festive spirit has risen from the dust and left-over packing boxes to announce

there are just 20 sleeps to go until Christmas!

I’ll bet you thought I forgot.

A Liverpudlian Tipple…

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I was in Liverpool for work last week (yes I know, this Gidday Gal’s been getting around a bit of late) and as part of the conference agenda was a Brewery Tour.

What? I hear you say. No Fab Four tour?

No, but ours was a magical mystery tour of a completely different kind.

Cains Brewery was started by young Irish immigrant, Robert Cain who bought his first pub in Limekiln Street, Liverpool at the tender age of 24. In 1858, just eight years later, Cain’s hard work enabled him to buy the site on the corner of Stanhope Street where his brewery still stands today – and is the site of our tour.

Twenty-five years later, Robert Cain was one of the wealthiest and most influential businessman in Liverpool, having built over 200 pubs Mersey-side (and a palatial mansion for himself) as well as a reputation for exceptional quality. Of beer I mean. I can’t speak for any of his other predelictions.

In 1887, the year of Queen Victoria’s Golden Jubilee, Cain began work on the red brick brewery and ornate tower that still in use today (I can attest to this personally) and remains a Liverpool landmark and upon his death in 1907 (at the age of 81) more than 3,000 mourners attended this ‘adopted local’ lad’s funeral.

But it’s been a checkered past for Cain’s. During the 1900s, the brewery changed hands 5 times. A merger with Walkers of Warrington in 1911 saw the newly formed business become one of Britain’s top 50 companies by 1918. Then in 1923, the Stanhope Brewery was sold to Higson’s. – Cain’s continued to flourish until Higson’s sold out to Boddington’s of Manchester in 1985. The company then faced a further change of ownership 5 years later as Boddington’s divested its breweries to Whitbread who then closed the landmark brewery. In 1990, the site was reopened by The Danish Brewery Group who renamed it Robert Cain & Co Ltd but despite brewing a popular Liverpudlian pint, in 2002 the business found itself on the brink of closure.

The current owners, the Dusanj brothers, were inspired by the ethos and tradition of Robert Cain & Company and believing that success could not only be found for the product in Liverpool but around the world, mounted a rescue operation. Under their stewardship, Cains now brews more than 120 million pints a year and is one of the fastest-growing brewers in the country.

One of the innovations brought to market by the brothers is Cain’s Fine Raisin Beer which has won a few awards including Winner of Tesco’s Autumn Beer Challenge in 2003, “Beer of the Festival” at the 2004 Liverpool CAMRA Festival and “World’s Best Fruit Beer” at the World Beer Awards in 2007.

So I tried it – well it seemed rude not to – and quite liked it. Although it does not taste like raisins. Whether this is good or bad, I will leave you to decide.

In true immigrant-made-good fashion, Robert Cain had become a legendary brewmaster, married the Liverpool Lord Mayor’s daughter (he’s a mover and shaker that one) and was enobled as Lord Brocket (although what he would have made of his great-great grandson’s antics on I’m a Celebrity… in 2004 we’ll never know!).

Photo courtesy of officialpubguide.com

The Brewery is open to the public for tours and apart from the history lesson, you get to see how all that lovely beer is made and then get yourself a little tipple or two on the house at the The Brewery Tap which adjoins the brewery.

Not bad for £7.99 eh? 

Sigh…I love my job!

The Best Things In Life Are Free…

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This weekend I was determined that Gidday HQ would take a little more shape in all areas – not just the relatively finished kitchen and living room – but in order to do this I needed to find a way to get rid of the 45 odd flattened boxes from my move a month ago (plus 5 filled with packing paper – never let it be said I am a wasteful girl!)

Enter Freecycle.

The Freecycle Network is a non-profit organisation that allows people to offer and find things FOR FREE. Started in Arizona in 2003 the aim was to create a worldwide network of ‘gifting’ groups to divert reuseable items from being sent to landfill. Since then, Freecycle has grown to more than 8 million members across almost 5,000 communities and operates under the mantra ‘changing the world one gift at a time’.

And what a gift it turned out to be. At around 5.30pm Saturday, I registered as part of my local Freecycle Group (that’s Barnet, if you must know) and posted my OFFER of 50-ish packing boxes/paper.

It is now 5pm on Sunday. From the 8 contacts who professed interest via the network, 3 visited Gidday HQ over the course of this afternoon to avail themselves of My Free Stuff.  I have 3 flattened garment boxes left. In the meantime, I have unpacked and found homes for much other stuff and moved furniture between rooms all in the space afforded me by the departure of said boxes.

So Gidday HQ is really taking shape. I feel so productive and exhausted and happy, I almost don’t know what to do with myself. Almost…I can hear last night unfinished bottle of Grenache Blanc calling from the fridge…

Anyway, props to Freecycle and a bit of community spirit. Both now up there amongst my favourite Fab Finchley discoveries.

To find out more about The Freecycle Network in the UK, you can just click here. There are also links to Freecycle in other countries on the landing page and if there’s not, there’s even a link to start your own group. 

See how super easy it is?  What a community-minded soul I am becoming…wonder what it is I’ll find out about next?

Fabulous Finchley…Misty-eyed

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Last weekend it was time to do a little more exploring of the new ‘hood so I decided to wander down to Victoria Park just a 10 minute stroll away. 

The park was proposed by Henry C Stephens to commemorate Queen Victoria’s Jubilee in 1887 and was finally opened in 1902, a year after her death. It’s not a large park and it’s kind of set back from the street and tucked away behind the lawn bowls club but it was originally part of Colby Farm where Charles Dickens penned parts of Martin Chuzzlewit – or so the sign says – so there’s a touch of literary significance as well.

So I wandered around for about an hour, pausing to snap gorgeous pic after gorgeous pic. Bear in mind as you look at these that it was about midday when I arrived!

Amazing misty sun photo – I was stoked when this pic turned out!
Entering though the Ballards Lane gate
Trees in the mist
Following the winding path
Rooms with a view
An avenue of trees through the centre of the park
Tennis anyone?

Is the fog starting to lift?
A place to rest
The local cafe and the place to book your tennis court

Backlit by the sun
The sun finally comes out and reveals brilliant Autumn colour

How wonderful it is to find so much inspiration just around the corner. I can’t wait to explore a little more.

I also have to pause for a shout out to HTC. All of those photos were taken with my phone and it’s getting increasingly difficult to justify taking my camera anywhere with quality pics like this!

Until next time peeps…

Nuremberg Post Script…

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So last we corresponded I’d been in Nuremberg and I revealed that there had been some wining, dining and generally sociable behaviour. I also mentioned we’d been to Peruvian restaurant, El Encanto to celebrate a busy and successful week.

The following is the result of what happens when combining two hysterical tired females with cocktails and arm them with a camera while they are impatiently waiting for their food….

My small contribution to Movember…
These napkin rings look like ears!
Look pigtails! (aka Heidi Hair, the closest I’m likely to get…)
Bringing out my inner devil…

Here endeth the lesson.


Postcard from…Nuremberg

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When last I tap-tap-tapped away, I promised you some visual splendors from Nuremberg where I was fortunate enough to be for work last week. Nuremberg is probably not a common tourist destination but its old town is architecturally gorgeous in that medieval way that this area of Europe seems to do so very well.

Nuremberg is, for most of us, most commonly linked with the activities of the Nazis during WWII, being the location chosen by the Nazi Party for the Nuremberg rallies and then later the site of the most famous war crimes trials in modern history. But it is a city with a long and intricate history. Founded at the turn of the 11th century, Nuremberg’s importance as a location along key trade routes grew until the late 1500s. During this period, Nuremberg was known as the ‘unofficial capital’ of the Holy Roman Empire and in the 15th and 16th centuries, Nuremberg was also considered to be the centre of the German Rennaissance.

The Kaiserberg stands high overlooking the town and it was here that all of the German Emperors of the Holy Roman Empire resided at one time or another. This Imperial Castle is the symbol of Nuremberg and is deemed to be one of the most important palaces of the Middle Ages.

Photo source: www.nuernberg.de

We were lucky enough to be entertaining our customers here and so I was able to get some amazing snaps of the views over Nuremberg.

The Holy Chapel, just off the main hall…
…where we dined in splendor.

As with all good trips to Germany, we also managed some dining of the less formal kind and I can report that there was much sausage and dumpling eating, beer drinking and generally sociable behaviour amongst we good folk. Here’s a sampler from our excursion into Central Nuremberg for sausages earlier in the week:

A pre-dinner cocktail of Raspberry and Cassis

A rather unusual display of canapes
The empty sausage platter was pushed aside while my colleague ate every piece of dragon fruit in sight

The end of the week saw it down to just two of us who had stayed on to tidy up so to celebrate the end of a successful week, we headed off to Peruvian restaurant (as one does in downtown Nuremberg) El Encanto. The ambience may have been a little lacklustre…

El Encanto – made up for its lack of ambience with amazing food
…but the food was so good (avocado and tomato salad, dumplings and then fish for main – completely scrumptious) and the cocktails so forthcoming, I forgot to take another picture until the funky teaset came out at the end.

Saturday morning arrived and I packed up my things and headed off to the station for the fastest-train-in-Germany (300km/hr) trip back to Munich to connect with my flight. But after the reasonably balmy temperatures of the week, I was little under-dressed for the bone-chilling air on the platform…

Even that front pigeon looks cold!

…so it was with delight that I finally climbed on board the carriage, sank into my seat and soothed by the high speed whirr of the train, let myself alternate between dozing in the warmth and simply watching the world go by.


Travel Broadens The Mind…The Euro Zone

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I’ve been a Travelling Wilbury again peeps and this week’s expedition found me in Nuremberg, Germany. While there hasn’t been much of an opportunity to sightsee, I’ll be sharing some spectacular pics and a brief highlights package when next I put fingers to keyboard.  But in the meantime, I’ve been browsing BA’s business:life magazine to see what’s new in the world of fascinating facts.
Having been in Germany this week, it seems only appropriate to make a start with the locals so according to USwitch/WHO, 66.5% of Germans are overweight, making them the fattest nation in Europe. Must be all that beer and sausage. 
Not to be outdone, Britons holidaying in France gain an average of 7.3lbs over a fortnight (cheese and wine related methinks) and 6% of Scottish high street shops are takeaway food outlets (I suspect the heady delights of deep fried Mars Bars come in here somewhere). But 82% of Spanish holidaymakers say they can’t live without herbal teabags and 63% of Spanish women are dissatisfied with their lives. Let me see, cheese and wine or herbal teabags. Seems a pretty simple equation to me. Attendez-moi, s’il vous plait!
Speaking of holidays, did you know that Irish workers get the lowest holiday entitlement in Europe (29 days)? There’s clearly so much to be done harvesting potatoes, making widget-induced alcohol, marketing expensive glass crystal and encouraging gullible visitors to their fair isle to hang upside down and plant their smackers on some old stone. Spare a thought for the less diligent Swedes and Portugese who enjoy a further 10 days left to their own devices. 
On second thoughts, it probably takes an extra 10 days per annum to assemble flat pack furniture so I think we are down to the Portugese as the most relaxed nation in Europe.
As a single gal, it would be remiss of me not to include a couple of key insights into the European singles scene. Lucky for me, 60% of men across Britain, France, Spain and Italy (as well as the US and Brazil) say they prefer brunettes. And 73% of British singletons seeking a partner rate a good sense of humour as a must-have trait. 
(Note to self: dark and funny, dark and funny, dark and funny. Repeat such affirmation each morning while wondering whether to pluck irreverent silver threads from my still largely brunette barnet.)
And last but certainly not least, it’s back to the green and slightly drizzly isle of Great Britain. In typical understated British style, without boasting, shouting or any remote sense of preening, I was informed by a soundbite in the magazine sidebar that Cambridge is the top university in the world. So it would appear that that unique blend of British intelligence and Victorian modesty is alive and well and did not disappear with Mr Humphreys being free to stroke Mrs Slocombe’s pussy.
But I also learnt that one fifth of British people do not know a dairy cow is a female. So maybe the world’s best is just ‘keeping its powder dry’ and we shall see cleverness unleashed in it’s finest form on University Challenge. 
 
Or maybe they are just otherwise engaged training for next year’s boat race.
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For more fascinating conversation starters for your next cocktail soiree or dinner party, check out my other Travel Broadens The Mind posts:
You’ll never be lost for words again.