On route to the UK for my cousins wedding at the end of July, my parents and I took the opportunity to stop in Iceland, the stingray shaped island in the North Atlantic Ocean and explore the country. Over the course of our lifetimes we have taken many a transatlantic flight and accidentally leaving the phones on which has resulted in a plethora of "welcome to Iceland text messages", so it was about time we took up the back logged welcome offers.
This trip was not without it's apprehensions though as the night prior to departure, my mother stumbled upon a blog post entitled "Iceland smells like farts." The gist of the article was that due to Iceland being dependent on geothermal energy and all water being geothermal the smell of sulphur, which resembles eggy farts pierces the air throughout the country. This however turned out not to be completely true, and it was only in a few places where the pungent stench of eggy farts tantalized our nostrils.
One of these places this was present was the showers, which is actually advantageous if you have ever had a shower and mid shower find yourself succumbed to the urge to fart and so you fart. Upon realising the excess carbon dioxide between your buttocks, releasing the fart is instantly regretted as the moisture in the shower amplifies the stench as it clings to the moisture droplets and you find yourself gagging on your own farts. Fortunately in Iceland this isn't the problems as the stench of the water can mask pretty much anything including this. Thankfully though Iceland is pretty windy, especially it's capital Reykjavik this comes in handy as the continuous gusts of wind swiftly move away the most pungent of geothermal fart water and instead turns your nipples into icicles.
This is apparent in almost all parts of the country, along with the ever changing weather. It's a slogan in the country that, if you don't like the weather in Iceland wait ten miniutes, as with every gust of wind the weather completely changes. In addition to the wind causing Iceland's weather to constantly change, I am convinced it has also shaped the landscape.
The Icelandic landscape is dramatic and completely random, one minute emerald hills are cascading for miles, the next jagged mountains and booming waterfalls and ten minutes later, your surrounded my mountains and lava fields. This is the result off a serious volcanic eruptions and glaciers melting.
This Subsequently explains why one goes from thinking they are on the moon and wandering what in the hell they have gotten themselves into, to feeling like they are in the middle of no where or a fantasy world....actually to the extent Iceland is a fictional world as it's where Game of Thrones is filmed along with several other fantasy shows and much of the population still believes in elves and fairies. Needless to say, if one has ever wanted to frolic through fields of flowers and unleash there 1960's hippy child, or has ever dreamed of performing the underpants Charleston in a field,Iceland is the place to do it. Alternatively and more family friendly, it's wonderful for hiking, meandering the countryside and enjoying the remoteness of it all. One of the best ways to enjoy the countryside is on top of a horse weaving through volcanic craters and through fields of lupines.
With the parents and I being chiefly based in the capitol Reykjavik, we got a good insight into the Icelandic population, or what very littler there is of it. With only 300,000 people in the entire country and 120,000 living in the Capitol, the Icelandic gene pool is rather limited. Resulting in the governments decision to encourage Icelandic to marry non Icelandic ignored to diversify the gene pool.
The Icelandics have flawless skin( l'oreal got nothing on these people) most likely attributed to lack of sun and high fish diet, and are buy and large soft spoken and very pleasant people, whom are adorable. It is clear though that some Icelandic's are much stranger than others, probably a result of the ethnic homogeneity, lack of sun in the winter and billowing winds year round. The most classic example of this is Bjork obviously, and the lesser know equally as strange Icelandic , Hjörtur Gísli Sigurðsson, the curator of the Icelandic Phallogical museum, passed down from his father. The museum features a collection of 200 plus penises and penile parts mostly animal but there are some human contributions to the museum, including models of the Icelandic Handball teams.
Strange and adorable Icelandic's aside, the high fish and low sun diet appears to have resulted in a plethora of attractive people. If the sexy bastard or hot piece of ass index existed, in which the geographer examines the amount of sexy bastards in a population, divide that by the total population in order to calculate the sexy bastards per capita. Iceland would probably win. This can also be attributed to the, Norwegian/ Celtic settlement in the Viking era, and the Danish colonization of Iceland in the 18th century. The Celtic influence in the Icelandic's is still present in there sense if humour in there over all bluntness, this can be seen in the grapevine, the English language newspaper which featured a section entitled "a guide that fucks you up" featuring a list of all the happy hours in the city. The Celtic sense of humour can also be seen through many other publications where they openly make fun of themselves in comparison to their other Nordic neighbours, revealing an inferiority complex .
So if you've ever wander what happens when you get a volcanic island,in the North Atlantic which is currently the youngest earth mass on the planet, is covered in a glacier that then melts, gets occupied by broke ass Viking farmers looking for land. That then drag Celtic slaves kicking and screaming to work their land, that accidentally get rid of all the trees on the island, forcing them to depend on fish until Danes show up and start bossing them about....until the Nazis take over Denmark making it so they couldn't rule Iceland anymore. Resulting in independence just before World War Two ended. All of this in addition to constant wind, horses, 24/7 golf courses when, there is 24/7 sun, and 24/7 ski hills in winter, an abundance of fish and a distinct lack of people and an average temperature of 11 degrees, resulting on a dependency on the greenhouses.You would get something delightfully quirky like Iceland.
Monday, 20 July 2015
Tuesday, 24 February 2015
Sloppy Slovenia
It's been a while since I wrote anything, because for once in my life i have actually been doing my homework and doing all my readings( ok that's a lie half of my readings...if that). I have technically "travelled " as far as this project is concerned to about 13 countries now. Last time I wrote I was struggling, to find recipes for Slovenia, when I embarked on this, project my plan was to work my way strategically starting in Hungary through Europe into the Middle East then onto Africa Asia etc.... as this you will find out in later posts, that went completely tits up a while ago.
Slovenia is a small country, population and area wise, where large quantities of horse meat, and bizzare cheese's are consumed. Subsequently, Slovenia has yet to penetrate the culinary market in ways such as other countries have (probably cause half the names are hard to pronounce....actually impossible is a better word. After sifting through the internet I eventually surrendered and found a recipe for Slovenian Fritatta. Which is basically eggs, flour, cream and a bunch of green herbs served with prosciutto and bread.
Anyone who knows me well enough will know that, I can cook a complicated dish just fine but when it comes to omelettes or anything that requires cooking eggs in a pan, my plating skills are about as elegant as a warthog with a head-cold, after too many drinks. In other words, a bit of a mess. A bit of a hot mess I suppose is the best way to put it, but being a hot mess is better than a cold mess at the end of the day. Especially when it comes to food.
Slovenia is a small country, population and area wise, where large quantities of horse meat, and bizzare cheese's are consumed. Subsequently, Slovenia has yet to penetrate the culinary market in ways such as other countries have (probably cause half the names are hard to pronounce....actually impossible is a better word. After sifting through the internet I eventually surrendered and found a recipe for Slovenian Fritatta. Which is basically eggs, flour, cream and a bunch of green herbs served with prosciutto and bread.
Anyone who knows me well enough will know that, I can cook a complicated dish just fine but when it comes to omelettes or anything that requires cooking eggs in a pan, my plating skills are about as elegant as a warthog with a head-cold, after too many drinks. In other words, a bit of a mess. A bit of a hot mess I suppose is the best way to put it, but being a hot mess is better than a cold mess at the end of the day. Especially when it comes to food.
Tuesday, 20 January 2015
Destination Italia
Alright, so this past weeks destination was Italy, the initial destination was suppose to be Slovenia, and from there make my way to Italy. However, Slovenia is a tiny country, and with tiny countries comes tiny amounts of recipes on the internet. To put it in other words, trying to find a Slovenian recipe that I can a)pronounce and b) lacks horse meat is a bit like trying to find some in Vancouver who despises kale and yoga. It's near impossible. So I made the decision this week to head to Italy after a long week at uni and curl up on the sofa, with books on how children's rights are a load of bollocks in practice but grand in theory.
I chose to make a Risotto, this week with chicken breast and broccoli. I've made many a risotto before, and every time I make one I tend not to touch them for about a month or two after woulds....namely because I always make way too much and after eating the stuff for two week straight I am quite ready to banish it to the back of the classroom. That being said, the wonder full thing about Risotto is that provided you have a chicken (or veggie stock), white wine,Arborio rice and parmesan cheese you can put what ever you want in it. I opted for mushrooms, peas and sun-dried tomato and large quantities to even out the obscene amounts of rice and stock in the pan that I added. I took a chicken breast out of the freezer marinated it using the contents of the fridge which included, basil, dijon mustard, garlic, splash of tomato paste, salt pepper and chilli flakes and threw it in a pan along with some halloumi to add texture.
Plating was a night mare because in the wise words of one of the biggest influencers on my food obsession, my dear Lorenzo Schober, " you cannot make risotto look good, it always looks like shit."So here is my attempt at poshing up a un-poshable food.
I chose to make a Risotto, this week with chicken breast and broccoli. I've made many a risotto before, and every time I make one I tend not to touch them for about a month or two after woulds....namely because I always make way too much and after eating the stuff for two week straight I am quite ready to banish it to the back of the classroom. That being said, the wonder full thing about Risotto is that provided you have a chicken (or veggie stock), white wine,Arborio rice and parmesan cheese you can put what ever you want in it. I opted for mushrooms, peas and sun-dried tomato and large quantities to even out the obscene amounts of rice and stock in the pan that I added. I took a chicken breast out of the freezer marinated it using the contents of the fridge which included, basil, dijon mustard, garlic, splash of tomato paste, salt pepper and chilli flakes and threw it in a pan along with some halloumi to add texture.
Plating was a night mare because in the wise words of one of the biggest influencers on my food obsession, my dear Lorenzo Schober, " you cannot make risotto look good, it always looks like shit."So here is my attempt at poshing up a un-poshable food.
Tuesday, 13 January 2015
Around the World in a 192 dishes and a hand full of cockups: Destination number one Hungary.
Once again, it's been bloody ages since I wrote anything and once again, I am writing something that I have no obligation to write because I don't feel like writing something I am obliged to write if I want to complete my university degree. As most of you know reading this, I have a pretty terminal case of wanderlust, which I largely blame being the product of two adventurous parents. As always I am broke, and wanting to travel, the simplest of ways to save money is to cut out food and live in a shack. Unfortunately, when you live in a country which is wetter than England on one side and colder than mars on the other, that doesn't really work. So on a bus ride from LA to San Francisco, I made the decision that this year I was going to travel to every country in the world through food. It's a way to develop my cooking skill, as well as my photography and slow my progression of wanderlust. Wanderlust is like a degenerative disease such as Parkinson's or Alzeimer's, it never goes away and gets worse with age, but you can consume things that slow the progression.
At least, this is the case for me and so the year of travelling the world through culinary creations starts here, in "Hungary"with the famous Goulash, a beef and paprika stew served with potato dumplings and a nice blob of sour cream. I also served it with a side of mushrooms and green beans. Some of you might be asking why I started with Hungary....well the only reason is because I had a spontaneous craving for goulash....that's about it really and so after reading a recipe about as closely as I read my assigned readings for school. I attempted to make a pot of goulash, and like all things in life it wasn't perfect, mainly because I like spicy things and underestimated how spicy adding large quantities of paprika, cayenne pepper and chilli, which if nothing else will kick start my metabolism.
So for my friends wanting to try something new hearty and delicious, I would highly suggest cooking some goulash up. One more piece of advice I will give you, if you are making it after a busy day, buy mince beef instead of stewing beef, they both cook quickly... but stewing beef is designed to cook it for a long slow period of a minimum 2 hours of time so it melts in your mouth...... whilst i was waiting for this my appetite consumed my brain and i subsequently ended up saying sod it and proceeding to eat cooked tough beef giving my upper molars a workout they were not especially use to. My jaw line is now without a doubt the most chiseled part of my body.
At least, this is the case for me and so the year of travelling the world through culinary creations starts here, in "Hungary"with the famous Goulash, a beef and paprika stew served with potato dumplings and a nice blob of sour cream. I also served it with a side of mushrooms and green beans. Some of you might be asking why I started with Hungary....well the only reason is because I had a spontaneous craving for goulash....that's about it really and so after reading a recipe about as closely as I read my assigned readings for school. I attempted to make a pot of goulash, and like all things in life it wasn't perfect, mainly because I like spicy things and underestimated how spicy adding large quantities of paprika, cayenne pepper and chilli, which if nothing else will kick start my metabolism.
So for my friends wanting to try something new hearty and delicious, I would highly suggest cooking some goulash up. One more piece of advice I will give you, if you are making it after a busy day, buy mince beef instead of stewing beef, they both cook quickly... but stewing beef is designed to cook it for a long slow period of a minimum 2 hours of time so it melts in your mouth...... whilst i was waiting for this my appetite consumed my brain and i subsequently ended up saying sod it and proceeding to eat cooked tough beef giving my upper molars a workout they were not especially use to. My jaw line is now without a doubt the most chiseled part of my body.
Saturday, 30 August 2014
The other side of being a transient child of the world.
Having spent the past 9 months living out a bag with the odd bit of uni course work, and the weekly Masterchef episode, my life has now come full circle symbolized with the signing of an apartment lease, and clipping the keys to my keychain that I have carried round the world at numerous homes.
The signing of an apartment lease has lead to a volcanic eruption of emotions, some of them relife as I managed to find a place to live in this city of dodgy basement suits, and flakey landlords, with an IQ and hygine standards comparable to Tony Abbotts scrotum (just to clarify, i haven't seen Tony Abbotts' scrotum nor do I have any desire too but i'm sure its as slimy as his face).
The comfort that comes from having a flat to call my own now, is the catalyst in the lava flow of emotions spewing within my body. With this new comfort it means that my mind wanders, as I stroll through the streets of this city i've grown familiar with over the course of my undergraduate career. My time here is where my identity as a transient child of the world solidified, and I've found solace in crossing pathways (and pints) with other transient children of the world.
This has provided comfort over the years and the other transient children in this city have become a nuclear family of sorts. One of the cons of a being a transient child of the world is that, because of your lifestyle and lack of roots, and so do your friends it means that there is a potential to comeback to find other transients being transient in other parts of the world. Resulting in a bizzare realisation upon return that half the people in your phone arn't there any more.
As the lava continues to flow through your veins, and you meander the streets, knowing the best eats and treats on every corner, seeing the same faces, in the same places, the same begger on hastings tripping balls a sense of bewilderment fills you. This is because, in all this time nothings changed, sure theres contruction thats finally finished on Broadway but, the world has just spun madly on without my presence. Resulting in an inner thought of, "how has nothing changed in this time?", and the longer your away the more shocked at how nothing has changed. Reminding you of the reasons why you left this place in the first place at a even more pronounced volume than before your departure.
.
It's this feeling that reminds you of why you went on your transient way in the first place, because you wanted out of this life, and away from it all, sure its good to be back, and see all the people you missed and eat at all your favorite places and do all your favorite things. But the problem with this is, as a transient child of the world, it doesn't matter where you go or who your with all the people ( and gastronomic delights) you love most will never been in the same place at once.
Potentially the hardest part of being a transient child of the world is that , you leave your heart in lots of places with lots of people. In addition the more you people you meet from different countries and the more places you go to, the more fragmented your heart becomes. For example, someone whose from a small country town in central British Columbia, who is born, raised and dies there, never moves and goes on holiday to another part of BC and has always had the same group of friends, will always have their heart in central BC.
Take this and compare it to someone whose got parents and family from different countries, whose moved around, and has many international friends in different places and who keep going to different places. There hearts will always be in more than one place, making it fragmented as they may have a great fondness for the town where they spent there childhood, a fondness from friends who've invited them to share cultural experiences with them, the vegetable samosas on the north west coast of Malaysia...etc the list goes on.
Ultimately, having a fragmented heart is because of something called, Ubuntu. Ubuntu, is a Southern African philosophy which means, translated into English means, " I am because of you". In other words we are who we are because of the interactions we have with wildlife, individuals, cultures, experiences that we have and share with others.
Its because of Ubuntu, that Transient Children of the World, to a point feel more, good and bad. There lives are more complex and "where are you from?", " or where's home?", results in an automated response in the back of your head along the lines of, "FUCKSAKE! not this again"....which sometimes slips out of your mouth depending on how many pints of larger you've had that night....may or may not be talking from personal experience at all......
To conclude, Transient children of the world, feel a lot, a lot of good but we also feel vulnerability, confusion and utter frustration at times with society, and life as our hearts continue to fragment like a pie fresh out of the oven. With every interaction and a new piece is carved, and thus with the moving out of every apartment and signing the lease of a new one. The transient child of the worlds emotions, start a new cycle.
The signing of an apartment lease has lead to a volcanic eruption of emotions, some of them relife as I managed to find a place to live in this city of dodgy basement suits, and flakey landlords, with an IQ and hygine standards comparable to Tony Abbotts scrotum (just to clarify, i haven't seen Tony Abbotts' scrotum nor do I have any desire too but i'm sure its as slimy as his face).
The comfort that comes from having a flat to call my own now, is the catalyst in the lava flow of emotions spewing within my body. With this new comfort it means that my mind wanders, as I stroll through the streets of this city i've grown familiar with over the course of my undergraduate career. My time here is where my identity as a transient child of the world solidified, and I've found solace in crossing pathways (and pints) with other transient children of the world.
This has provided comfort over the years and the other transient children in this city have become a nuclear family of sorts. One of the cons of a being a transient child of the world is that, because of your lifestyle and lack of roots, and so do your friends it means that there is a potential to comeback to find other transients being transient in other parts of the world. Resulting in a bizzare realisation upon return that half the people in your phone arn't there any more.
As the lava continues to flow through your veins, and you meander the streets, knowing the best eats and treats on every corner, seeing the same faces, in the same places, the same begger on hastings tripping balls a sense of bewilderment fills you. This is because, in all this time nothings changed, sure theres contruction thats finally finished on Broadway but, the world has just spun madly on without my presence. Resulting in an inner thought of, "how has nothing changed in this time?", and the longer your away the more shocked at how nothing has changed. Reminding you of the reasons why you left this place in the first place at a even more pronounced volume than before your departure.
It's this feeling that reminds you of why you went on your transient way in the first place, because you wanted out of this life, and away from it all, sure its good to be back, and see all the people you missed and eat at all your favorite places and do all your favorite things. But the problem with this is, as a transient child of the world, it doesn't matter where you go or who your with all the people ( and gastronomic delights) you love most will never been in the same place at once.
Potentially the hardest part of being a transient child of the world is that , you leave your heart in lots of places with lots of people. In addition the more you people you meet from different countries and the more places you go to, the more fragmented your heart becomes. For example, someone whose from a small country town in central British Columbia, who is born, raised and dies there, never moves and goes on holiday to another part of BC and has always had the same group of friends, will always have their heart in central BC.
Take this and compare it to someone whose got parents and family from different countries, whose moved around, and has many international friends in different places and who keep going to different places. There hearts will always be in more than one place, making it fragmented as they may have a great fondness for the town where they spent there childhood, a fondness from friends who've invited them to share cultural experiences with them, the vegetable samosas on the north west coast of Malaysia...etc the list goes on.
Ultimately, having a fragmented heart is because of something called, Ubuntu. Ubuntu, is a Southern African philosophy which means, translated into English means, " I am because of you". In other words we are who we are because of the interactions we have with wildlife, individuals, cultures, experiences that we have and share with others.
Its because of Ubuntu, that Transient Children of the World, to a point feel more, good and bad. There lives are more complex and "where are you from?", " or where's home?", results in an automated response in the back of your head along the lines of, "FUCKSAKE! not this again"....which sometimes slips out of your mouth depending on how many pints of larger you've had that night....may or may not be talking from personal experience at all......
To conclude, Transient children of the world, feel a lot, a lot of good but we also feel vulnerability, confusion and utter frustration at times with society, and life as our hearts continue to fragment like a pie fresh out of the oven. With every interaction and a new piece is carved, and thus with the moving out of every apartment and signing the lease of a new one. The transient child of the worlds emotions, start a new cycle.
Monday, 31 March 2014
planes, trains, automobiles, boats and legs: How to survive living out of a chariat of fire with your mum and dad for almost a month
Hello all yes... I know I have been positively shit at updating this thing due to the fact that I have been living out of a bang and discovered BBC Iplayer and it is only now when i have assesment due in the coming weeks. So lets start from the beginnig our tour de New Zealand would now be possible without that of a red car which I have named Barnibus. So heres a summary of the Baileys antics and how we did not kill each other in the sheep filled archipeligo.
If there is one thing the guide books do not tell you it is this. If you get carsick, do NOT drive around the north island EVER. I found this out the hard way on a drive to a beach called Piha for christmas day where we had a picnic accompanied with a few moments where we thought we were going to have to have our christmas dinner in the car due to fears of, Cornish weather aka wind and rain.
Carsickness continued through much of the tropical jungle that was north land and for much of the Coromandel Peninsula and tinkered off some where between Whangamata, the hook up Capital of New Zealand AKA Newquay for Kiwis and home of a lovely golden retriver called jackson that belonged to the owner of the lodge we were staying in who became my snuggle buddy during one sunday sunny afternoon.
Aside from windy roads the North Island was very tropical with ferns everywhere....explaining why the national emblem is the silver fern. On our German holiday on roids with our trusty steed Barnibus we stayed in a few lodges one of which involved foreced socialization with the other guests and the lodge owners. The other guests where this couple.... She was about sixty and he was in his mid thirties, who wern't the most engaging of people and we found ourselves laughing back in the confindes of our room. All I got to say is the girl got GAME!
Following our stint in the middle of nowhere and Rotorua.... as we called it, Pootorua due to the smell of sulfer which can only be explained as resembeling that of human excrement. featuring our hotel giving us a two bed room one of which was soaking wet. To quote my mother, if anyone has cronic wind or wants to be able to have a curry and be able to fart without fear, Rotorua is the place to do it, as you can have a fart as silent and as deadly as you want and no one will ever be able to tell.
New Zealand is a bit of a strange and backwards country, everywhere else come new years eve everybody flocks to the cities for a glorious piss up.... In New Zealand however, everyone flocks to the countryside resulting in a fireworks show being cancelled in the nations capital, Wellington due the the fact there was zero people in the city. As a result we opted for a 7 course meal, Austin Power and an early night.
If you ever travel to the South Island have your camera charged at all times as it is insainly beautiful and it well worth doing by train. Christchurch is a real mix of emotions due to earthquake damage but it has a lot of potential..... and amazing food and is pretty much England looks wise.
The furthur south you get in New Zealand the more it looks like Scotland and the more sheep you see, such was the case of Dunedin, aka New Edinburgh, and gateway to the Otago Peninsula which I would definitely say is a must do. We visited an Albatross colony..... which up until then I though Albotrosses were invented fictional characters by Monty Python..... there is a reason I am no in animal biology.
Terminating in New Whistler, aka Queenstown which involved lots of unwinding and a trip to Milford Sound other with the most irritating tour guide of life who we all wanted to kill by the end of it.
If there is one thing the guide books do not tell you it is this. If you get carsick, do NOT drive around the north island EVER. I found this out the hard way on a drive to a beach called Piha for christmas day where we had a picnic accompanied with a few moments where we thought we were going to have to have our christmas dinner in the car due to fears of, Cornish weather aka wind and rain.
Carsickness continued through much of the tropical jungle that was north land and for much of the Coromandel Peninsula and tinkered off some where between Whangamata, the hook up Capital of New Zealand AKA Newquay for Kiwis and home of a lovely golden retriver called jackson that belonged to the owner of the lodge we were staying in who became my snuggle buddy during one sunday sunny afternoon.
Aside from windy roads the North Island was very tropical with ferns everywhere....explaining why the national emblem is the silver fern. On our German holiday on roids with our trusty steed Barnibus we stayed in a few lodges one of which involved foreced socialization with the other guests and the lodge owners. The other guests where this couple.... She was about sixty and he was in his mid thirties, who wern't the most engaging of people and we found ourselves laughing back in the confindes of our room. All I got to say is the girl got GAME!
Following our stint in the middle of nowhere and Rotorua.... as we called it, Pootorua due to the smell of sulfer which can only be explained as resembeling that of human excrement. featuring our hotel giving us a two bed room one of which was soaking wet. To quote my mother, if anyone has cronic wind or wants to be able to have a curry and be able to fart without fear, Rotorua is the place to do it, as you can have a fart as silent and as deadly as you want and no one will ever be able to tell.
New Zealand is a bit of a strange and backwards country, everywhere else come new years eve everybody flocks to the cities for a glorious piss up.... In New Zealand however, everyone flocks to the countryside resulting in a fireworks show being cancelled in the nations capital, Wellington due the the fact there was zero people in the city. As a result we opted for a 7 course meal, Austin Power and an early night.
If you ever travel to the South Island have your camera charged at all times as it is insainly beautiful and it well worth doing by train. Christchurch is a real mix of emotions due to earthquake damage but it has a lot of potential..... and amazing food and is pretty much England looks wise.
The furthur south you get in New Zealand the more it looks like Scotland and the more sheep you see, such was the case of Dunedin, aka New Edinburgh, and gateway to the Otago Peninsula which I would definitely say is a must do. We visited an Albatross colony..... which up until then I though Albotrosses were invented fictional characters by Monty Python..... there is a reason I am no in animal biology.
Terminating in New Whistler, aka Queenstown which involved lots of unwinding and a trip to Milford Sound other with the most irritating tour guide of life who we all wanted to kill by the end of it.
Sunday, 22 December 2013
Notes from a sheep filled arcapeligo: first impressions, Baileys behaving badly, and unintentional public displays of nudity
Greetings from middle earth, otherwise know as New Zealand,
As many of you may or may not know, I am travelling around this archipelago with my parents and hordes of sheep as company, although I have yet to see any sheep.... yet. This is in part because we are in Auckland, the countries largest city which houses 1/4 of the population (1.3 million).
We arrived yesterday morning at 5 am, Air New Zealand is now my second favourite airline, British Airways still being the first. The plane food was almost as epic as the safety video( lord of the rings themed featuring Gollum). Kiwis are very proud of the fact that they are kiwi and their culture, with good reason, there music is badass so i spent most of the flight rocking out to Fat Freddys Drop and Lorde and watching Kiwi films (Sionis wedding) which are brilliant and hilarious.
Spent most of yesterday relaxing at the hotel but today I went for a stroll in the city centre. Auckland is very beautiful with excellent coffee ( Im sorry JJ your coffee tastes like wee in comparison) the scent of coffee wafting through the air. It has some very gorgeous European architecture and a beautiful harbour with lots of parks and funky shops. It doesn't feel like 3 days before christmas, I went into multiple shops today and they were absolutely dead. People here are much more friendly than in Canada and kept offering me chocolate in the clothing shops and were more than happy to engage in friendly banter.
There are lots of lanes that act as wind tunnels in addition to quirky shops and pubs. Except the wind is warm and tropical which is most lovely.
Absolutely loving the fact that the stores blast music outside as you walk past and its my favourite music, which i previously mentioned, where I have made an idiot out of myself jiving in the street, although that is not the most idiotic thing I have done in the last twenty four hours. Was out on a walk about and really needed a wee saw a public loo which looked like something from the future. You pushed the green button and it slid back as if you were going into doctor evils layer, and it opened very quickly. So when i went in I thought it would close as quickly as it opened.... It didn't and with my bladder being fuller than the Okavango Delta i dropped my trousers as quickly as possible and to my horror the door was half open so about 15 kiwis unintentionally saw my pasty white bum. Putting the grand total at nationalities who have seen my pasty white bottom at around 12 ( the others being when I was a small child running around naked in various countries and the result of a bus ride from Rwanda to Uganda with a bunch of African women).
Minus making a complete tit out of myself within 48 hours of arriving in a new country, the parents and I have had a great time so far and have been behaving badly. At our hotel, there is this floor where you get free booze and free appetizers....which means free dinner for us and cheeky times... the people working there have started taking the mickey of us now. its a good riot.
Well its day two of our adventure, and so far we haven't killed each other. lets hope it lasts.
As many of you may or may not know, I am travelling around this archipelago with my parents and hordes of sheep as company, although I have yet to see any sheep.... yet. This is in part because we are in Auckland, the countries largest city which houses 1/4 of the population (1.3 million).
We arrived yesterday morning at 5 am, Air New Zealand is now my second favourite airline, British Airways still being the first. The plane food was almost as epic as the safety video( lord of the rings themed featuring Gollum). Kiwis are very proud of the fact that they are kiwi and their culture, with good reason, there music is badass so i spent most of the flight rocking out to Fat Freddys Drop and Lorde and watching Kiwi films (Sionis wedding) which are brilliant and hilarious.
Spent most of yesterday relaxing at the hotel but today I went for a stroll in the city centre. Auckland is very beautiful with excellent coffee ( Im sorry JJ your coffee tastes like wee in comparison) the scent of coffee wafting through the air. It has some very gorgeous European architecture and a beautiful harbour with lots of parks and funky shops. It doesn't feel like 3 days before christmas, I went into multiple shops today and they were absolutely dead. People here are much more friendly than in Canada and kept offering me chocolate in the clothing shops and were more than happy to engage in friendly banter.
There are lots of lanes that act as wind tunnels in addition to quirky shops and pubs. Except the wind is warm and tropical which is most lovely.
Absolutely loving the fact that the stores blast music outside as you walk past and its my favourite music, which i previously mentioned, where I have made an idiot out of myself jiving in the street, although that is not the most idiotic thing I have done in the last twenty four hours. Was out on a walk about and really needed a wee saw a public loo which looked like something from the future. You pushed the green button and it slid back as if you were going into doctor evils layer, and it opened very quickly. So when i went in I thought it would close as quickly as it opened.... It didn't and with my bladder being fuller than the Okavango Delta i dropped my trousers as quickly as possible and to my horror the door was half open so about 15 kiwis unintentionally saw my pasty white bum. Putting the grand total at nationalities who have seen my pasty white bottom at around 12 ( the others being when I was a small child running around naked in various countries and the result of a bus ride from Rwanda to Uganda with a bunch of African women).
Minus making a complete tit out of myself within 48 hours of arriving in a new country, the parents and I have had a great time so far and have been behaving badly. At our hotel, there is this floor where you get free booze and free appetizers....which means free dinner for us and cheeky times... the people working there have started taking the mickey of us now. its a good riot.
Well its day two of our adventure, and so far we haven't killed each other. lets hope it lasts.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)