Bye George!

Just wanted to say another goodbye to our sensational friend and central figure of the Potosi Posse, George, who we met at the start of our Bolivian adventure in the Salar de Uyuni and have been having a great time with ever since. She's headed back to Australia and promises to return to the UK next year, and we'll be enforcing this promise by any means necessary, okay George?

One of my personal highlights was her celebratory run across the Salar when we were finally rescued by a passing 4WD in the distance. Earlier that afternoon, while resting from dancing using a shared headphone, she had been chopping little holes in the salt to help pass the time and the vengeful gods of the Salar punished her by placing her leaping foot directly into one of those holes. Pride and sunglasses (and luckily not a foot) came off second best from the ensuing tumble and fits of laughter.

Her interpretative art using a hammock was also unforgettable. But most of all I'll remember George (whoa starting to sounds like a euology now) for being one of the most caring and thoughtful people I know. So many times I would have gone devastatingly hungry had it not been for George sneaking me pieces of cake or garlic bread from the pub's kitchen. How soon might Lucas have decided to head back to Australia had George not been the best listener in the world.

Volverte a ver. Te queremos!

Who needs public transport???

Is what I said to myself at 6am on Saturday morning as I began a two and a half hour adventure through the streets of London and Hampstead Heath.

The evening began in the gentlemens club, where we were discussing lichtenstein over a game of backgammon. In actual fact it began in the Comedy Store, a stand up comedy club - I haven't laughed so hard in a long time. Five comics and an MC, all hilarious in their own way, the dash to get as many pints into us as possible before happy hour ended probably made things a little more humourous.

We left the Comedy Store and headed to one of the cheapest, sleaziest, messiest, most Australian pub in London - the walkabout in Leciester Square. This is where things started to get a little hazy - we had a few more whistle wetters and a danced around for a while, then as far as I know we were magically teleported to a party in some part of London that I don't recall (I have since learned it was Kentish Town). We immediately became best friends with the hosts and were fed some of their concoctions. I gather it was around 6am when I announced my departure by my text message 'sent items' folder. I waved off all offers of directions and maps. Even though I swore blind that I knew London like the back of my hand, I wasn't believed and finally gave in to taking an A-Z guide with me - just in case.

Two and a half hours later I was scrambling over gates in Hampstead Heath. After jumping fences into peoples back gardens and vegetable patches, and on one occasion going over the same fence twice, I realised I had absolutely no idea where I was or in what direction I was headed. It was also at that point that I did a tumble turn over a fence and landed squarely on my head - like a pole being driven into the ground. After a few minutes of wandering through a forrested area I realised I had left my new cashmere sweater lying over the perilous fence from before. During my dash back to retrieve it I slipped several times, sending myself sprawling through the mud. With jumper retrieved I managed to negotiate my way out of this seemingly endless rainforest and found a street. THANK GOD for the A-Z, I found which street I was on and I proceeded to find my way home. It must have been a bit of a shock for my new housemates when I appeared at the front door bleeding from the hands and face and covered in mud. Straight into bed and have been recovering ever since. I just hope I can get the multicoloured stains from my new clothes (note: cashmere jumper - unscathed).

Quite possibly the most excitement I've had in a while, I even texted Lucas telling him he was missing out on a hell of an adventure - I probably wouldn't choose to do it again though...well maybe next weekend.

Tube, Turnpike Lane and something else beggining with T

I wonder how many posts I've used alliteration in the title?

Well I've just got back from day two at work. Probably the worst thing about it is that I am using an internet cafe to write this post - not quite cosy enough with everyone to start sitting on hotmail all day - but that time will come.

Apart from that, everyone in this new job is extremely nice - exactly the kind of people who you'd expect to be working in a social policy development area - and exactly the kind of people who would like to stab the eyes out of Department of Finance people when their policy suggestions are rejected after only a skim of the title and financial implication. This is the kind of area where the 'bad guys' are the other bleeding hearts in the programme areas of the Government agency who have a bit more of a realistic grasp on what is possibly going to be accepted by Ministers (but still not a very firm grasp). But I'll hang around there for a while and see what happens - I'm still not sure of what my role is exactly - no one seems to know, at the moment I'm just reading every publication, website and email related to Dept of Health, Citizens Advice and the NHS. Although I have a feeling I'll be given a bit of work tomorrow - or maybe it's more that I hope I'll be given something to pass the time with. There's even a little part of me craving to be back at DoFA so I can take a 2 hour lunch after a long coffee with Tim, then Bobby and Tracy and then come back to my desk and do whatever work needs doing until I'm happy with how it's all going. It's the lunchtime activity that is going to kill me, a stroll around Kings Cross is no match for a game of lunchtime soccer or a run around Lake Burley-Griffin.

Shock! Horror! I am getting nostalgic about Canberra! I suppose it wasn't that bad - it just always seemed that when things would settle down soon and election was called or sudden discovery of massive errors (nearly started giving away state secrets on the internet - now that would end my public service career for good) would keep the stress levels high. But maybe one day when I return to Oz things will be a little calmer in Budget Group - with the new system and all.

Meanwhile, Turnpike Lane (6 stops up the Piccadilly line from work - Kings Cross) is a little ripper of a spot to live I reckon. Apart from the gang of youths that hang around outside our window at night time it seems to be a very friendly area - and even then I'm assuming that a gang of youths mightn't be perfect gentlemen - they were in Cuba. We are surrounded by Halal butchers and fruit and veg grocers, cost of living around here is quite a lot cheaper than closer in. And the high street is chock full of interesting clothes and other random stores.

Actually speaking of cost of living.....

http://www.finfacts.com/costofliving3.htm

Sydney is insane!! I had no idea it was that bad. Plus I think Bolivia must have been left out - I would say La Paz has a lower cost of living than Buenos Aires at least.

Anyway - I'm off to get my usual dinner (we haven't managed a food shop yet) - a curry from Salams Chicken/Chips and Curry house just around the corner from home, they play bollywood (oh we have bollywood cinema around the corner too) and other wailing kind of music that I used to hear in Indonesia - similar to the waik mok (spelling? Christian, Rob, Wizza??).

Still in the process of getting our room set up - will post some pics when we're all organised - this weekend I imagine.

XXOO (Kisses optional for the boys - I'm open minded)

Sorted.

After 69 days in England (and three in France) Lucas and I have finally gained employment and a shared room in an apartment.

Things have moved pretty quickly in the last few days. After learning that Lucas was offered a job with Visa starting next week I lugged all my stuff down to London on Thursday morning for a job interview and to look for a flat (regardless of outcome of the job hunt). I was offered the job on Friday morning and asked to start on Monday, then this morning (Saturday) I've sorted a double room in Turnpike lane, sharing with a Spanish guy and a Venezuelan girl (so we get to practice our spanish, yay!), which we'll move into tomorrow morning for our first night of the official begginning to England Phase Two.

Turnpike Lane (like much of London's cheaper suburbs) is dominated by people from non-english speaking backgrounds - and funnily enough the most common language I've heard in this area seems to be Spanish (although lots of Indians around too - I make the assumption they are indian because of the clothes stores selling saris), which is a fantastic coincidence as I'd been asking around if anyone knew of a Spanish quarter in London - and Turnpike Lane appears to be the closest thing there is to such a place.

So within the space of 48 hours I've relocated and restarted the English voyage, where this new ship will take us is unknown, I'm excited.

A Weekend Parisienne

I have just resumed my position at the bar after a sensational weekend in Paris.....

I arrived back in London on Friday night after returning from Leeds (where I could be seen shivering in the streets wearing a toga) and managed to catch a couple of hours of sleep before getting the 6am tube back into the Victoria coach station. A return trip to Paris costing me only £35 and 6-7 hours on the bus each way - a total bargain.

After reading my book until our bus arrived in France (via the train - they load the buses into large carriages) I drifted off to sleep until I awoke in the midst of Paris. Disembarking and checking the instructions that I had been given I figured out that I was not where I was supposed to be (or not where Rachel thought I was arriving). By this stage I had already decided that my French was worse than my Northern Mongolian and being unable to contact Rach, I managed to piece together where I was and where I supposed to go on the Metro from a variety of bus maps showing small segments of the city. Thirty minutes later and I was swapping the obligatory double cheek greeting kiss with Rach and Jake at the Bastille (although a handshake sufficed with Jake). A short walk and we arrived at their very cool apartment, a perfect mix of old and new. After a delicious duck dinner with the accompanying fresh baguette and French wine we headed out to the first of a series of live music and other exhibitions put on for the night - as apparently I had arrived for the weekend of some annual festival, the name of which has left me for the moment.

After a petit promenade around the the place to check out what was on we headed up to Sacre Coeur where there were 300 guitars and one drummer at the foot of the church, and a stunning view of Paris behind us with all sorts of lasers around the city. Some free coffee later (I chose the 'Sydney' variety and was disappointed, so had to go back for some other flavours) we found ourselves at a live performance of Brazilian DJ's and dancers. We spent the rest of the evening there before heading home and chewing the fat (or pistachio nuts it turned out to be).

We were up at midday the next day for cafe and pan chocolat after we donned our race-going attire. The venue was the Hippodrome de Longchamps for the Prix du Arc de Triomphe, the highlight of the French racing calendar. I would say that people came from far and wide to witness the spectacle, but I wouldn't call anywhere in Europe far or wide. The champagne and baguettes flowed freely and we did our best to analyse the form guide with a view to winning a pocket of cash to fund a lavish night out. Unfortunately our analyses were poor and our winnings amounted to one beers worth of euros. So feeling hungry, light pocketed and a little tired we made our way into the centre of town to drown the memory of bets placed on three legged sloths claiming to be race horses. We wandered into a little cafe/bar named Mois du Vin, mainly for the use of it's toilet, and ended up embarking on an evening of the most sensational food I've ever tasted and some thoroughly enjoyable live jazz.

Not long after finding ourselves a corner in the dimly lit cafe a saxophonist, two guitarists and a double basist (would that have another name?) struck up an energetic and engaging series of songs. After a little while a lady in the crowd, caught up in the energy and to the delight of the band and crowd, whipped out a pair of castanets and began playing as though she had been a band member from day one. Maybe a band member turned up late, or maybe he too got excited and raced home for his saxophone, but soon there was a second saxophonist appearing from nowhere, and the place was now booming with two saxophones seemingly making up the music as they fed off each others solos. In the meantime we had feasted upon fois gras and other ducky treats, selection of hams and some mouth watering honey roasted Camembert. And this was before I even started to go weak at the knees from the taste. The Argentinean steak and accompanying sauteed new potatoes and baked (or roasted) vegetables were like nothing I have ever tasted. My whirlwind eating tendency was stopped in its tracks as I tried to savour every molecule of flavour that existed in the meat and vegetables. Needless to say the chocolate fondue and subsequent coffee were obligatory and were the perfect finish to a culinary experience like no other (Burger King after the 5 hour back-of-truck ride up road in Bolivia is a close 2nd).

The weekend finished with a morning at the foot of the Eiffel Tower (with coffee and pan chocolat of course) and a stroll along the Seine. Then back on the bus to London, top weekend completed.

Catching up with a Canberran connection made me realise how much fun and how good my friends were in Canberra and I was struck with feelings of nostalgia as I lay awake that night (remember that post dinner coffee I mentioned....). I know a few of you have plans to visit this corner of the world in the next 12 months - can't wait.

In other exciting news - I have got my national insurance number (Tax File Number equivalent), a job interview on Thursday with an NGO (Lucas just had one today) and I'm moving to London on Thursday also, house hunting will be in top gear over the weekend - as I will be starting work on Monday if I get the job!!