Smacked in the face by reality

Ouch.

My holiday officially ended on Thursday, after my return from Melbourne. Now, instead of living a life of spontaneity, cultural discovery (sort of) and shopping, I'm juggling job hunting, trying to make a decision about my studies, and an overwhelming temptation to abandon all of that and become a penniless drifter. But then, being penniless, I wouldn't have nice clothes. Or wine. So it's not really worth it at all.

So my regular travel update is a wee bit redundant now that I'm no longer travelling and this is no longer a travel blog. Not to mention, with my onslaught of blog posts in the last few days of my trip it's not really neccessary. Plus, I can't be bothered going to find my note book. So it is officially completed as of... NOW.

Welcome to my no-longer-travel-and-restored-to-previous-role-of-whatever-I-feel-like-posting-about-but-mostly-shoes blog. I hope it meets your expectations of non-travel related stuff. If you have any. I know I personally have missed it. I've also learned that schedules don't really work for me. I can't force myself to be in the right mind-frame for blogging and most of my Sunday updates were no where near as witty/amusing/entertaining/frivolous as they should have been. Now, this should return in full force!

In my first few days home I spent a lot of time with J. and caught up with some other friends over schnitzel, lemon lime and bitters and refusing to pay cover charges among other things. Getting dressed every day was a major challenge. I actually "had" to buy a new shirt just to have something to wear on Friday night. Poor me.

On Saturday I went down to Melbourne. On the train heading for the airport, I received a phone call. From whom, you wonder? The airport. Qantas to be more specific. They had my luggage and were hoping to deliver it. Well, they weren't willing to deliver it as far as the domestic terminal, but of course I was able to pay an extra $5 to get the train to the international terminal to pick it up. Bastards. So I had clothes! Unfortunately most of them were dirty so getting dressed didn't get much easier. The few days down south were spent mostly in stores, searching for my Melbourne Cup dress. The Tuesday of course was spent at Flemington, in a flurry of rain, horses, photos, yellowglen, mud and ruining my Mimco shoes. Oh no, I'll have to find a suitable replacement pair!

On the Wednesday we went to Hairspray at the Princess Theatre. It's incredible how much stage production has progressed with technology. I mean, when Tracy opened the curtains to her bedroom window in the opening number, Good Morning Baltimore, she merely made swiping motions on a PICTURE of a window on a COMPUTERISED SCREEN and the curtains swished open. Magnificent. Anyway, it was a really good show and I recommend it to anyone who's a fan. Even if you're not. You should be, it's awesome! Who doesn't like musicals about racial descrimination on TV in the 60s, a girl's struggle to fit in and budding romances between teens?

Unfortunately that night it was onto the plane and back to real life. For who knows how long? I'm looking at study options other than the obvious one of enrolling into the Fine Arts course I deferred last year. I mean, it seems like a bit of a waste of time to spend 3-4 years (more if I decide to take a break) studying full time, to get a degree that has some photography in it but a whole lot of other stuff I don't NEED, when I could just spend two years at TAFE and get a full diploma in photoimaging. Especially since I'm planning on doing some form of Fashion Business studies afetrwards, which could mean I'd spend 5 years studying if I went to uni. When I could spend one year doing my Certificate IV and then hopefully find some part time photography work while I do my Diploma. That and I can't remember my loging details for UNSW and nor can I find them anywhere and nor is there a "I forgot my usename" button (stupid.) so I can't enroll at this point, anyway.

Here, have a picture:

(please ignore the fuzz in the corner. It's someone's fascinator. Large lens in big crowds...)

All for now, some Europe and after photos coming soon I promise!

-m xx

Fuck you, Qantas

OK so maybe that's a bit harsh, I don't know whether Qantas is to blame for my current predicament. It's horrifying, absolutely horrifying. Nothing compares to this torture.

I arrived home on Tuesday at about 6:15am. At 7am, I finally got through customs (Sydney airport- I hate you) and to my baggage carousel. Number 13. My bag was not circling joyfully around on the bag-travellator. I assumed it to be late. But soon, no more bags were coming out. Calmly, I wandered around the carousel, in case I'd missed it. Nothing.

I had arrived in Sydney. My bag had not.

Yesterday afternoon, I still hadn't heard from the airport. I rang them. They did not have my bag. I was told they would send out an alert with a description of my bag and call me the second it arrived. I'm still waiting for that call, 51 hours after I landed. I can only hope they're picking up the phone and dialling my number right now, because... oh I can hardly say it... I. Have. No. Clothes.

You know WHY I have no clothes? They're either in my suitcase, in the two postal boxes that have yet to arrive from various parts of Europe, OR at my mother's house. To which I have no key. It's on my bed. In my bedroom. IN MY MOTHER'S HOUSE! We have house sitters, so even if my dear sister had remembered to leave me her key this morning like I asked her to, I couldn't just waltz on up the hill. I'd have to RING AND CHECK first. Check with the people staying in my house if I can come over and get clothes. How's that for irritating?

AND I'm going out to dinner tonight. AND because I have a few nights planned with my friends this week, I had outfits roughly planned simply because I hate getting dressed then realising the next day that the shirt/skirt/hat/jacket I wore last night would be WAY better with tonight's outfit etc. So, even if I do get to my clothes at my mother's house, or alternatively buy more clothes with the money I don't really have, I won't be happy. I just got back from Europe. I'm meant to be wearing awesome Europey clothes. Even if I get this AWESOME cut out blouse from Sportsgirl that I want, It'll be like "oooh where'd you buy that? Paris?" "Nope. Top Ryde."

Honestly. Something really awesome must be about to happen to me because I have been REALLY ridiculously unlucky over the last few months. This time it's not even due to some mistake of my own! But it kills me because my bag could still be in Frankfurt for all I know, and I might not get it before I got to Melbourne. And I can deal with having to come up with a new outfit for tonight, but two night's in a row is just gunna be a bit infuriating. Clothes make the man, and if I'm not entirely happy with how I look, it really puts a downer on my mood.

So, I'm sure you've realised I'm just too DISTRAUGHT to give you the Europe update you deserve. I'm gunna go re-dye my hair (thank god. It's like the colour the milk goes when you eat cocoa pops. That weird pinky brown?) and watch Top Model.

-m xx

Firstly, an apology

The Sunday blog MAY NOT be up today. I think it would be silly to do my weekly update when today hasn't happened yet, and I have a huge flight and other exciting things ahead of me. So that will be up when I'm home and have the time slash I'll probably ignore everyone in my house for about an hour on tuesday to write and post it or it won't get done and I'll fall behind and blah blah etc. etc. I'll write most of it on the plane I think.

Anyway, please accept these lyrics (not written by me, but scarily accurate in parts) as a peace offering:

'Lucky'- Jason Mraz

Do you hear me?
I'm talking to you
Across the water,
Across the deep blue
Ocean
Under the open sky,
Oh my,
Baby I'm trying
Boy I hear you,
In my dreams.
I feel your whisper,
Across the sea.
I keep you with me,
In my heart.
You make it easier
When life gets hard

I'm lucky I'm in love with my best friend
Lucky to have been where I have been
Lucky to be coming home again

They don't know how long it takes,
Waiting for a love like this.
Every time we say goodbye,
I wish we had one more kiss.
I'll wait for you,
I promise you,
I will.

I'm lucky I'm in love with my best friend
Lucky to have been where I have been
Lucky to be coming home again

Lucky we're in love every way
Lucky to have stayed where we have stayed
Lucky to be coming home someday

And so I'm sailing
Through the sea
To an island
Where we'll meet
You'll hear the music
Fill the air
I'll put a flower in your hair

Though the breezes
Through the trees
Move so pretty
You're all I see
As the world keeps
Spinning 'round
You hold me right here right now

I'm lucky I'm in love with my best friend
Lucky to have been where I have been
Lucky to be coming home again

I'm lucky we're in love every way
Lucky to have stayed where we have stayed
Lucky to be coming home someday

Thankyou azlyrics. I did edit it slighty because it wasn't punctuated well and the stanzas weren't right and bits of it irritated me. If there's a pause you start a new line gosh. Also, this lyrics-that-inspire-me-or-somehow-relate-to-my-life-right-now thing MAY become a regular feature. I don't think I need to explain why I included this one.

See you in a few days! (When I'm home!)

-m xx

How old are you again?

Remind me, because this seems like something a toddler, or at best a pubescent 12 year old, would say:

"if you have better things to do than talk to me, i have better things to do than pick you up on tuesday!!!"

Yes. That was my dad. Simply because my reply didn't go through to him because his facebook went offline briefly. Of course when I tell him this, his response is merely

"what time are you due in- 6:30?"

Yes. That's fine. I don't need an apology.

Gosh, I'm the teenager here, people!

- m xx

p.s. BTW, he's 54.

Stress-ER

I have just had the single most stressful experience of my life. Now, I know what you’re thinking, and I totally agree. That IS a bold statement (apparently I’ve moved on from overusing parentheses to capitalising words for emphasis... well... maybe.) The last three months haven’t exactly been smooth sailing. And tonight’s experience certainly wasn’t anywhere near the worst thing to happen to me, in fact it wasn’t bad at all. Right now I’m actually feeling like, after all the bad luck I’ve had in Europe; karma is finally giving back in a good way. But I could have done without the extra stress; I think I’m getting a stomach ulcer.

OK, so you all know about my money troubles of late and my struggle to find a cheapish mode of transport to Frankfurt. I was ecstatic when I found the 45euro bus. Now, when I booked the bus yesterday, there was an option to pay by credit card over the computer, or some-other-option-in-German-that-I-didn’t-understand-but-assumed-to-be-pay-upon-boarding. As it is, I don’t have a credit card. I will have to get one, but it’s probably good I didn’t because it would have been stolen along with the rest of my wallet’s contents and some Sudanese Starbucks employee would be enjoying themselves quite literally at my expense (and there I go being racist. Don’t take me seriously when I stereotype. People who’ve been to Paris SHOULD hopefully find that amusing and relevant). Aaaaaanyway, I chose the other option, and was given a reference number. On the page it said something in German that I wasn’t quite sure of, but I picked out “credit card payments” “get ticket” and “present ticket” or something along those lines and guessed it to mean that I could still change my mind and pay by credit card and print off the ticket to hand over upon boarding the bus. Of course, I COULD have used an online translator, just to double check that it DID say that and not something relevant to non-credit card holders like myself. I COULD have done that indeed. But I didn’t. Mistake Number One.

Tonight, I headed to Hamburg Hauptbahnhof (the central station) to find my bus stop. Earlier today I’d been at the HBF and considered searching for my bus stop. I didn’t. I figured if I left my hostel in Altona at 9pm, I’d get to HBF by 9:30pm, giving me an entire hour to find the bus stop. That was Mistake Number 2. I did get to HBF at 9:30pm and found the bus stops right out front of the station. The instructions said that my bus would come to stop 4, 5 or 6, which I found. Having time to spare, I went to Maccas for a hot chocolate. I came back shortly after 10, because I wanted plenty of time to make sure I was in the right place. I wandered up and down, searching for something that would indicate that I WAS in fact in the right place to catch my bus. I saw no indication of my bus company’s existence. I checked the electronic timetable, and there was no mention of my bus. This didn’t REALLY worry me though (everything worries me slightly, so it did a bit) because I figured that maybe the timetable only showed city buses. Mistake Number 3
I was expecting my bus to appear about 10min before the leaving time of 10:35pm. At 10:18pm I started to anticipate the bus coming around the corner. I was worried that I was in the wrong place, but nothing more than my general paranoia that I’m fucking something up, because I usually do. At 10:28pm I began to actually worry. A few minutes later, I approximate the time to have been about 10:32pm, I decided to ask the nearest person if this WAS, in fact, the only central bus stop. She said no, the main one is around the corner, only two buses come here.


.Shit.


Not knowing whether I was doing the right thing by leaving, I scuttled to the end of the street, walked/jogged as fast as possible across roads in front of moving traffic and found the REAL central bus station. I got to stop 16 and broke into a run, which is no easy feat when you’ve got a suitcase with a handbag and laundry bag attached, as well as a camera and a backpack to drag in your wake. An old man laughed at me. I was almost crying. I knew I was cutting it very fine and any second I’d see my bus pulling away from the curb, destined to reach Frankfurt without me. My nose was running like a tap, my throat was burning from the cold air, my heart was thumping from my complete lack of endurance. I was scared. All I could think was “I’m going to miss my bus and not have enough money for the train. I’ll have to sell my body or else be stranded in Hamburg indefinitely.” Suddenly, I saw my bus. It was still there. I ran/scuttled/crab walked even faster. I reached the bus. The door was shut, the driver nowhere to be seen. After what seemed like an eternity he appeared and opened the door. I hurriedly muttered something like “imsosorryiwasathewrongbusstopfrankfurtreferencenumber.” He asked calmly if i had a ticket. I said no, i have a reference number. He looked at me in confusion. This made me panic a little more. Was this the right bus? He asked where I was going, I told him Frankfurt. Recognition passed over his face. A good sign, indeed. He showed me a list of names. My name was not on the list. He told me i would have to buy a ticket from the ticket office. He wasn’t sure if I’d be able to get this bus.

I was prepared to throw money, or maybe myself, at the ticket office people and take the closest thing to a bus ticket to Frankfurt that they could give me; as long as I could get this very bus. Then the bus driver ran over to peer in, and it dawned on him the ticket office was shut. This, surprisingly, was a good thing. He told me I could get on the bus and pay him at the break. Hurriedly, we got my suitcase into the luggage holder and I climbed on, choking on air and relief and trying to hide the copious amounts of snot escaping from my nose.

I now realise that I should ALWAYS translate things just in case, because looking back, I'm fairly certain it actually said "get your ticket printed at the ticket office using your reference number, then hand your ticket in upon boarding" or something along those lines. Woops. But, here i am, an hour later, on the bus, still feeling sick from physical exertion and panic, heading to Frankfurt. Now I can only hope it really is the right bus, and I’m heading to the right Frankfurt.

...

“I got this guys... we need to go to Berlin?”
“Ah Berlin, I know it well, I stabbed a woman in a bar in Berlin!”
“What did he say?”
“He said he’s going to Berlin!”
“Berlin! I will drive this bus off a cliff before I go back to Berlin.”

...

“Bratislava?”

(I apologise if I've misquoted 'Eurotrip' somewhat)

-m xx

I've been everywhere, man

I’ve been to...

France
Paris *LOVED*
Italy
Rome *disliked*
Pompeii *loved*
Sorrento *loved*
Isle of Capri *was somewhat intimidated by*
Tuscany *loved*
Florence *loved*
Pisa *disliked. Mostly due to rain, hangover and umbrella-sellers*
La Spezia
La Cinque terra *loved*
Milan
Sirmione
Verona
Venice *loved*
Greece
Athens *hated with the fire of a thousand suns*
Paros *loved*
Mykonos *lost a few braincells to*
Santorini *LOVED*
England
London *LOVED*
Nottingham
York *loved*
Bath (+Stonehenge) *loved*
Scotland
Edinburgh *loved*
Inverness
Glasgow
Ireland-North
Belfast *found eye-opening*
Ireland- Republic
Galway
Cork
Dublin
Wales
Cardiff
Germany
Munich
Berlin *LOVED*
Hamburg *LOVED*
Frankfurt *to be advised*
Dresden
Chzek Republik
Prague *loved*
Poland
Krakow (+Auschwitz)
Hungary
Budapest
Slovakia
Bratislava (+ two East(Europe) Jesus Nowhere Tescos) *loved-except the Tescos. Nothing on UK*
Austria
Vienna *loved*
Salzburg
The Netherlands
Amsterdam *lost a few more braincells to*

Yes, that’s all in the last three months. This list doesn’t include airport transfers, train changes, ferry wharfs etc but does include lunch stops. Basically if I felt direct sunlight there, it makes the list.

14 countries in 12 weeks.

"Paris is practically a SUBURB of Berlin. We can WALK there" - Eurotrip

-m xx

Stress and Other Lovely Things

So I made a biiiiiig stuff up.

Basically my money this trip has been a cashpasport, which is like a credit card preloaded with whatever currency you want. It is, thankfully, reloadable.

The other day i checked the balance to find I had 80euros left, plus about 250euros cash. So, calmly, I emptied the rest of my Australian bank account onto my cash passport. A sum of about 970AUD.

In the mean time, I had my sister's spare cash passport, which she'd left me in case I ran out of money. As you well know, I did run out of money, and have been using my sister's card while i wait for money to magically appear on mine. Now, yesterday, I started to worry. It should take 5 days for money to come through, yesterday made it 6. Today, I felt sure the money would be there. It wasn't. I started to panic.

I decided to check online in case it had miraculously appeared in the last 20min. It hadn't. Not good. Then came major panic. I realised I hadn't even checked if the previous money transfer had come through, so I checked my transactions. Luckily it had, which meant I didn't have $1450 floating around in travelex limbo. So I thought, why don't I check the source- my bank account.

Here's where things got bad. And I mean actually bad, not panic and paranoia inside my own head bad. The money was there, sitting in my bank account, smiling smugly at me. That number seemed to taunt me. It said "hey look, I guess you forgot to confirm the BPAY and now you're in Europe with no money. You could do the BPAY again, but by the time it gets through, you'll be home anyway."

Oh. Fuck.

At first I was simply annoyed because I don't enjoy spending other peoples money and I certainly don't enjoy making dumb mistakes. I had plans for my money when it came through. They involved schnaps, all the flavours of Rittersport chocolate I could find, and awesome German DVDs, as well as a few trips to H&M and my new favourite store, Monki. But no. Now there's only money for NECCESSITIES. Like food and a bed to sleep in.

Things then got worse. I informed my sister of the situation, mostly so she could laugh at me and to warn her that I might just empty her cash passport. She tried to ring me, my phone died. She facebooked me. I just read it then, about 30min ago. And what did it say, I hear you breathe in anticipation? That, apparently, I've spent almost all of her money and, apparently, she's not sure if there'll be enough to get me a bed to sleep in. Not good at all. Also, apparently I should only use it for food, which means she thinks food is more important, even though you can scab free food in hostel kitchens and I'd rather be hungry than sleeping next to a drunk homeless guy? Twisted logic. Nothing beats the "I can't afford to eat because I fucked up and I'm thousands of kilometres away from home but at least the plane food is free!" diet.
Not good indeed. Now, accomodation aside, there is a sliiiiiightly more pressing issue at hand. I'm in Hamburg. My flight leaves from Frankfurt. I couldn't tell you how long it would take to walk that far. The train is 110euros. Panic indeed.

Thanks to some advice from a friend who's currently living in Germany (in the South unfortunately, if he was up here maybe we could road trip it to Frankfurt together) I did a bit of research. First, he put me onto a hitch hiking website. Yes, you pay to hitch hike. It's about 25euros, which is obviously a lot cheaper. Then again, looking at the luck I've had in Europe, I'd probably end up dead in a ditch somewhere. Or it could be like Eurotrip and I'd end up in Bratislava. So, after battling with temptation and a strange desire for reckless spontaneity, I let that idea go. Too risky for a lone female traveller. If I were a freak rapist/murderer I'd probably register for a site like that. You get paid to murder backpackers! Win!

Then, I looked at the trains again. And discovered that at some times of day, the train is only 88euros. 22euros saving is 22 euros saving. Things were looking up. Then, the aforementioned friend found a flight at about 6am for 65euros. Not too shabby, but I'd have to get up at 6am, which, let's be honest, isn't worth 20euros.

Losing hope, resigning myself to my 88euro train ride which hopefully I would have enough for, I made a last ditch attempt at money saving. Buses. Now I've looked at buses before and most of the time, they don't exist. But this time I found one! If I'd known about it a week ago, I could have booked it and only paid 9euros but as it is I didn't at it will cost 45. Basically half of what the train will cost. AND it leaves tomorrow night at 10pm, and gets into Frankfurt at 5:30am, which means I don't need accomodation for that night, which is an extra 20euro saving for me if I can cancel my booking later. So it went from 110euros plus 20 for the hostel, to only being 45! Which means I have an extra 85 euros to hopefully make the difference between running out and not running out.

On the plus side, I won't spend my melbourne cup outfit money, because I can't. And I owed my sister like a bajillion dollars anyway so what's another few hundred? Ooh I'd hate to see her credit rating right now. Love you Steph! :)

-m xx