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.

Turning Points…Blogging and Beyond

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One of the best things about blogging is that you get to open up your world to all sorts of amazing, generous, interesting and talented people that you just might not bump into when immersed in the minutae of day to day life. Linda Janssen is one such person for me – amazing that is, not minutae!

An American living in The Hague in Holland, Linda is the lady behind the fabulous blog Adventures in Expatland where she charts her particular journey as someone who wants to make a difference: as an expat, a wife, a mother and as an aspiring writer. 

But wait…aspiring no more. She IS a writer. And as you know, I love to support those who are brave enough to reach for what their deepest heart desires so I am both completely thrilled and deeply honoured to play host to her virtual book tour here at Gidday from the UK.

So here’s to you Linda – chin chin! And for all you aspiring…well anything you want to be’s …out there, read on to see how inspiring reaching for your dreams can be.
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Blogging and Beyond
by Linda A. Janssen
On the latest stop of my ‘virtual book tour’ I’m here in London at Gidday From the UK. I’m visiting  a number of my favorite blogs to share a little about the writing journey that has led to the publication of a book to which I’ve contributed. 
Specifically, I’m in Fabulous Finchley in Northern London today. A big thank you to Kym for hosting me in her new abode so soon after moving, but she’s a brave gal and not one to let a recent move keep her from having company.
Last week was the launch of Turning Points: 25 Inspiring Stories From Women Entrepreneurs Who Have Turned Their Careers and Their Lives Around, and it’s been a roller coaster ever since. The book is edited by Kate Cobb, a women’s business and executive coach (www.movingforwardyourway.com) and Brit now living in France. Our publisher is the formidable Jo Parfitt (www.joparfitt.com) who runs Summertime Publishing, a niche publishing house that specializes in fiction and non-fiction books by and about expats and international living.
I’m new to the publishing arena, and while I did a fair amount of research beforehand into what I could, should and would do to help get the word out about the book, I wasn’t entirely sure how it would all go. The answer in a word is fabulous. But I would credit the book’s concept for that more than anything else.
Turning Points is an inspirational collection of uplifting personal essays in which women from all over the world, living different lives and working in various fields, reach a pivotal moment or series of events that triggers within them the acknowledgement that they simply cannot continue on in the same manner. Change in their professional and personal lives is demanded and inevitable.
Each woman shares her own situation, how her particular turning point came about, and  the manner in which she responded. Even better, each contributor offers the resources (books, websites and the like) that helped her implement change, and lessons learned along the way.
I’ve been reading Kym’s posts for quite some time now, and it’s difficult to point to just one aspect that pulled me in. She’s witty and amusing with an eye for the absurd yet isn’t afraid to display her romantic side. She’s a voracious reader who kindly shares her mini-reviews; I enjoy the range of titles and authors, constantly adding to my own ‘must read’ list. I’m drawn to her story (arriving in the UK for love and courageously choosing to stay when it didn’t go as planned) but am liking her ending even more.
When I started my blog, I was in the early stages of ‘coming out’ as a writer. I’d hidden my dreams and aspirations for too long, and knew that in order to move forward I’d have to put my writing and myself out there for all to see. Like Kym, I started writing articles, book reviews and interviews and slowly began to build up my published portfolio.
We can’t do it all. In truth, who can? So we choose to do the things that bring us closer to our goals. I’m writing a non-fiction book about the importance of emotional resilience in living in countries and cultures other than your own. Contributing a chapter to Turning Points was a fork in the path, an opportunity that presented itself, another decision point.
I helped start a writers’ group along with some other wonderful writing women here in The Hague, and over time I’ve come to trust their instincts and feedback. Now I share my deepest secret with them in the form of sections of a novel I’ve begun to write. The pace is slow, almost glacial at times, but just the fact that my words are seeing the light of day is enough for now.
Blogging is the public portal through which many a writer now steps. As Kym states herself in her Gidday bio, sharing bits and pieces of everyday life has ‘reignited her passion for writing and she now wonders where it all might lead.’ With a writer as talented as Kym, it will be fun to watch.
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If you’d like to find out more about our book, please take a look at the website www.theturningpointsbook.com, or follow along on Facebook’s The Turning Points Book page or on Twitter @Turning_Points. A portion of all sales will benefit www.seedsfordevelopment.org.

Pastures New…

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Yoohoo!

  Hellooooo!

    I’m over here!

   Coooooeeeee!!!

Now that I have your attention…

Gidday HQ has moved to pastures new.

Last weekend there were keys to exchange, cupboards to clean, movers to step around and goodbyes to say as I farewelled my little front window, climbed aboard the moving van and set off to begin a new chapter on the other side of the river.

As with all good moves, not everything went according to plan but I have arrived and can confirm I am safely ensconsed in the North London suburb of Finchley.

Day 1 – Morning: Many many many boxes to unpack
Day 1 – Evening: Kitchen done!

That’s not Finchley Road peeps (which does not go through Finchley as the name would suggest but rather skirts past West Hampstead in the south). Or East Finchley, lovely though it looks from the tube as it emerges into the night air on my commute home. Or even North Finchley, which is actually one stop too far.

No it’s Finchley peeps. Sometimes known as Church End but really, it’s just Finchley. Bit like ‘just Kym’ (no it’s not short for Kymberley). But I think I will call it Fabulous Finchley for I am determined that life’s next chapter will be filled with all things fabulous.

So yesterday it was time to explore my new neighbourhood (that is the one beyond my easy 5 minute commute to the station….ah bliss!)

Let’s start with a stroll along the street where I live…

The street where I live – look at that Autumn colour!

As I reached the main road (you can just see it in the above  picture if you squint hard enough), I decided to venture right towards North Finchley where, rumour had it, there would be a Carphone Warehouse outlet for me to kit myself out with a dongle. I was having withdrawal symptoms and missing you all dreadfully without internet at home!

Luxury Desserts – what’s not to like?

A little further along I came across a grassy stretch…

An unexpected patch of green right by the road.

…which actually heralded the entrance to local bowls club.

Doesn’t this make you want to kick up the leaves and hear them rustle underfoot?

A bit further on, the spires of the local church pierced the cloudy sky…

The local…church I mean

…and before long, I was in the midst of the hustle and bustle of North Finchley.

Desperately seeking dongle (and door stops actually) as I was, I gave a cursory glance to the myriad of fruit markets, continental food stores, factory outlets and tat shops that spilled out onto the footpath. Until a sweet, sweet sight brought a smile to my face…

Mr Simms is in North Finchley too!

Remember this discovery last Christmas?

Mr Simms in Kingston – a joyous discovery last year

Anyway, this is where the photos stop because by the time I bought my dongle, finally found door stops in Robert Dyas, stocked up on a few essentials at Boots and spent £9 on – yes, you guessed it – tat, I was on my way to that English bastion of all things delicious, Waitrose. Where I bought more stuff.

Which meant more bags (supplied by moi of course – we love to reuse) to carry home. 

Which meant the bus – 10 minutes to go 5 stops versus the 25 minute bag-free wander north earlier.

I think I’m gonna like it here.

Aah, Finchley.  Fabulous already!

A Place For All Seasons…

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Two sleeps.

 That’s right peeps. Only two sleeps to go.
I have two sleeps left in Kingston.
Nestled under the currently thinning winter canopy of the tree that has, for almost seven years, shaded the highs and the lows of this Australian abroad.
It has been my haven.
An oasis, tucked away at the top of the winding street.
A spiritual home.
Summer Shade
A place of happiness and heartbreak.
Of worry and frustration. Of peace and calm.
Autumn Colour
A place for all seasons.
 Where I succumbed to my love of books, brilliant skies and bracing British winters.

Winter Sunset
Where I wrote my first blog post, discovered the joys of an afternoon spent baking and picked my first blackberries.

A Burst of Spring
And it’s almost time to go.

To leave my cosy front window.
To tap away in pastures new.
That’s right peeps. Gidday HQ is on the move.
 

Done and Dusted…Commuting Gems

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This week, about 10 weeks ahead of schedule, I smashed the 50 Book Challenge.

That’s right peeps – I’ve read 50 books this year.

(Actually this morning it stands at 51 but who am I to quibble over such a detail?)

Along the way, I unearthed some real Commuting Gems, writers that will continue to feed my long and literary journey to and from work every day. Douglas Kennedy made the grade early – I have read three of his books this year – closely followed by slightly off-centre crime fiction from Chris Brookmyre (I’ve read two of his). More recently, I discovered the joys of Jonathan Frantzen, Jo Nesbo and Scott Mariani and have already started my next Ben Hope Adventure (Mariani’s protagonist).

I have also travelled far and wide from the comfort of my reading spot(s) – through the post ‘et tu Brutus?’ period of the Roman Empire (Colleen McCullough) and in a black cab across America with the incomparable everyman himself, Stephen Fry. I have immersed myself in the cultural melting pot of a Russian community in China with Kate Furnivall and stood in awe of the great and mighty Vesuvius with Robert Harris.

Let’s not forget the little bit of star-spotting l managed either. I rubbed literary shoulders with Sir Elton, Alistair Campbell, Billy Connelly, Jane Austen and young Queen Victoria!

The stalwarts of my literary days gone by were there too – Lionel Shriver, Michael Connelly and Dick Francis (although after three of the latter, I might say nay – neigh, geddit? – to a Francis horse-racing extravaganza for a while).

I’ve also dropped in on old favourites like Heathcliff & Cathy and Meg, Jo, Beth & Amy. I read about risk and danger, and about a girl who played with fire and then made things worse by kicking the hornet’s nest. 

I’ve even managed both a trip back to old Melbourne town (courtesy of Christos Tsiolkas) and a joyful celebration with fellow expat Bill Bryson, of the fabulous place I now call home.

Who knew that commuting four hours each day could bring such joy!

Not all was smooth sailing (or commuting if you prefer). Three made my ‘Disappointing’ List – number 6 from Margot Berwin, number 15 from David Gibbins and 39 from Dawn French. Not so marvellous. But 3 out of 50 (that’s just 6% says she, whipping out her trusty calculator to double check her mental maths) ain’t bad. And look at all of the things I have experienced and discovered.

So if you’ve been inspired at all by my bookish banging on, or are looking for some great reads to add to your own (e)bookshelf, you can see them all – along with what I thought of them – at The Book Nook which, in the spirit of encouraging readership and literacy, I will continue to update.

Happy reading peeps!

A Very Chicky Birthday

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Today is Lil Chicky’s birthday.
So I thought I’d tell you a birthday story.
The first one was fraught with competitive friction.
This young whippersnapper had the front to question her big sister’s attempts at teaching birthday best practice
Her (L) and me (R)
 But it wasn’t long before she got the hang of it 
Sisterly pride in the background
And tried to muscle in
‘What’s the deal? It’s my birthday, not yours!’
So I had to re-assert my authority
Birthday territory re-established
And by the time we got to her 21st, we had learnt to share
21st birthday of Lil Chicky (in the green dress)
So we played happily together
Outside Flinders St Station in 2005
for ever
Anzac Day Match at the MCG 2007
 and ever
At Sand Sculptures in Frankston, December 2010
Happy Birthday Chicky!

View Of A Bridge…Can’t Take Any More

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Gidday peeps!

Firstly, apologies if any of you received random emails ‘from me’ over the last 24 hours or so. A small hacking escapade has successfully been stymied and fingers crossed someone’s on-line joy-ride has been brought to an end.

So, after a brief blog interlude, we are back in Prague, city of 1000 spires and the not inconsiderable Charles Bridge. Stretching over the Vltava River, Karluv Most (as it is known to the locals) was commissioned in the 14th century by Charles IV and joins the Old Town with the Little Quarter. It is 520m long, could originally accommodate four carriages across and is touted in every tourist guide as ‘not to be missed’. Which made me desperately want to resist planning to see it. I know. It’s perverse.

On the evening of Day 1, I fell across it from a slightly down river vantage point. 

Remember the postcard shot from Prague Post Number 2?

Feeling distinctly unimpressed by the Bridge itself, I decided to spend Saturday (Day 2) exploring Prague Castle and surrounds (which could constitute a whole other post but I am unsure as to how much Prague overkill you will allow yourself to be subjected to). The views are absolutely stunning from the top and the Bridge even managed a cameo in one of several panorama shots.

The rooftops of Prague with Charles Bridge, Old Town Tower and on the horizon, the spires of St Ludmila’s

After several wonderful hours, I found myself descending to the cobbled streets of the Little Quarter where lo and behold, I fell across the Bridge again.

Charles Bridge Little Quarter Tower and entrance

There seemed nothing for it but to surrender to its call but as I passed through the archway, I noticed an ad for river cruises – weary and footsore by this stage, I was an easy mark for any seated distractions so I decided that this would be pleasant way to spend an hour. I even got a couple of Bridge shots in for good measure.

Charles Bridge before cruising beneath it…
…and after.
After the cruise had returned me to the shore, I did actually make it onto the Bridge but the Saturday crowds were out in force and it was not conducive to any sort of meandering or photo-taking. So I just went with the throng and made directly for the other side, determined to try again tomorrow.
Busy crowds heading for the Old Town on Charles Bridge

Tomorrow came all too quickly (as it always does when one is on holiday) and after spending a rather sobering morning in the Jewish Quarter, I ambled along more cobbled streets to find myself on the banks of the Vltava again but this time at the Manusov Bridge, a perfect vantage point for another go at capturing that other Bridge in all its glory.

View of Charles Bridge from Manusov Bridge
‘It’s my last day’, I thought to myself. ‘I cannot visit Prague having only had a cursory dash across’. And so began my purposeful stroll towards the Bridge’s Little Quarter Tower.
Others clearly had similar stirrings…

Charles Bridge Little Quarter – are we there yet?

But finally I found myself ON THE BRIDGE.

The triumphant Tower shot which means…
…I am finally standing on The Bridge – with elbow room to spare!

Leaning over the Bridge I could see crowds gathered for a puppet show in the square below…

…but let’s not get sidetracked. I am finally on The Bridge so let’s turn our attention to it!

The Bridge is famous for its ‘avenue’ of mostly baroque statues. There are MANY statues (well thirty actually which is quite a lot for any bridge), all in various stages of dis/repair. Frankly after the first few, I got a little bored with the details and did not photograph them – I managed three and the one below is the best of those. If you are more interested and want the full run down, you can click here.

The Bridge is also a central point for entertainers and stall holders eager to take a few crowns from gullible generous tourists – here are a few of my favourites:

Ingenuity Czech-style
This one was particularly cute
These guys drew quite a crowd and much applause after each number

 Before I knew it the arch through to the Old Town beckoned.

Charles Bridge Tower – Old Town

  And with the Bridge finally behind me, I snapped a picture of it’s namesake…
Statue of Charles IV in Knights of the Cross Square as you leave the Bridge

 …before turning to see the sign opposite.

Do you think they mean that infernal Bridge?

So that’s The Bridge post done and definitely dusted. If you are interested in checking out my previous Prague posts – and a big thank you to those of you that have – I’ve included a handy list below for you:

Prague Preview: Just A Peek
Prague…The Accidental Tourist (Trail)

They may just whet your appetite enough to inspire a visit.

Or not.

A Pinch Of Salt…Feeling Like Jenny

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Loose-limbed. Unruffled. Calm. Fluid.

These are all things I associate with a truly relaxing holiday. You know, the kind where you reach a sort of ‘one-ness’ with the world from your prone position on the sun lounge. The kind where the most critical decisions may include shall I read or doze, am I hungry enough to be bothered moving to accommodate some sort of snacking, and is it cocktail o’clock yet. Where it takes effort to pull yourself back ‘together’ again in order to manage a) the trip home and b) contributing something beyond water cooler stories during the first week back at work.

Most of us save hard and schedule annual leave with military zeal to achieve this and, when it’s all done, find ourselves gazing wistfully at our fading tan lines and poring over travel websites to plan that next escape firmly in the foreseeable future.

Well this week, I managed to achieve this in the space of a couple of hours in South West London. On Thursday night I ventured just off Chiswick High Road, crossed the threshold into the world of Floatation Therapy and experienced the most profound relaxation ever. 

People, welcome to Floatopia.

There are lots of benefits associated with floatation therapy including stress relief, detoxing, increased energy, improved concentration, relief from injuries, regulating sleeping patterns (one float apparently simulates 4 hours of sleep) and releasing Endorphins – the body’s natural pain killer and happy pill.

So I filled in my form, donned my Floatopia-issued slippers and was shown to my Private Float Suite. After a quick run through of the Float Room itself and the do’s and don’ts I was left to my own devices and not wanting to waste a moment, I was showered and ‘in’.
Floatation simulates a zero gravity environment for the body by heating a solution of Epsom Salts to skin temperature. The ‘water’ for want of a better word, is quite shallow (waist deep when you are seated) so I got myself in the right spot, pulled the door closed, turned off the light and lay back to find myself floating effortlessly in the darkness.
My brain chattered furiously and I in turns let myself listen to my garbled thoughts and then gently pulled my mind back to the sensation of the stillness. The soft background music stopped – this happens after about 15 minutes I was told – and after a while (and I really couldn’t tell you how long) the chatter slowed and my limbs seemed to become ‘at one’, blurring the edges of my physical self, with the warm salt solution around me. I let my mind float too, observing it flit about as if the thoughts were not really mine and listening to my heart beating comfortingly in the background. At one stage, I tried to count my heart rate but my thoughts drifted away again.
 

It is the most extraordinary experience to be completely with yourself in this way. I’ve never ‘mastered’ meditation, always with one ‘eye’ on the clock and feeling too impatient with the distractions of the mind and body. But I imagine this is what it must be – this total acceptance of everything: the itches, the niggles, the thoughts, the chatter and then the move back to stillness, silence and peace.

The background music started softly again to signal the end of my float. Feeling a bit disconcerted I fumbled for the light switch and stretched to establish the connection between limbs and brain again. My Floatopia ‘host’ had mentioned I might ‘feel like Jenny’ at the end of the float – whoever she is, I’d like to be Jenny a lot more often.

15 minutes later I was showered, dressed and in the chill out area feeling like I had spent a blissful two weeks on a beautiful beach somewhere.

All in about 2 hours and for the bargain Groupon voucher price of £17.

And to top it off, I slept the best sleep for years on Thursday night and continued into Friday, calm and unruffled, in the face of the end of the week commuting challenges.
Now that’s has to be the best value holiday I’ve ever had.