See you later Dull As

I awoke to much brighter spirits, the fear and uncertainty that were yesterday left in my dreams. I slept very well at The Comfort Inn- in fact,my mattress could have been mistaken for a cloud.

I spent most of the morning in Dulles airport and I now know why it is pronounced Dullas because it is exactly that- dull, dull, dull. The only interesting thing are the bizarre sky buses which look like demountable class rooms on wheels, not just any wheels but big wheels, like demolition derby sized wheels... other than that it is just like any other airport in any other city.

The shops at the airport are frightfully bad. Mostly they sell overpriced Obama memorabilia, seems like everything from Hope water to Change key rings are for sale and that´s not to mention the vast array of Obama T-shirts, hoodies, inauguration souvenirs etc etc. It is almost like the airport´s merchandise is branded Obama. I did not see any White House spoons, West Wing almanacs or Capitol Hill ... anything.

I was also disappointed that I did not see any Josh Lyman look alikes.

Before I left DC I wrote some thoughts about what I thought Mexico would be like- It was not an exhaustive or well thought out list just the usual stereotypes which I thought would be able to focus my first entry on the country.

1- Blinding white light.
2-Colourful- primary colours mostly.
3-Moustaches a plenty (24/7 Movember)
4. Sombrero worshippers-locals wearing them even though they are not at the SCG watching the Australian openers collapse against The Proteas.
5-Drunk- a nation in a tequila/Corona fuelled haze.
6-Slow- a place where time stands still.

After a non eventful flight (well non eventful if you count sitting next to the most loved up couple in the history of couples smooching their way across the Amercian South) . I was greeted by extremely efficient customs staff and left the airport in record time (there goes number 6 on my list) into the arms of a Ra embrace.

After a minute outside I reached into my bag in search of my over sized sunglasses (at least I got number 1 right) as I was blinded by the light- It is like Sydney sunshine; intense, hot and magic.

We stood outside the airport for about 20 mins catching up and deciding on a plan. We were thinking about going to Isla Mujures (the island of women) but thought the better of it as Ra had heard that accommodation was scarce and took the safe option and utilised our booking at Playa del Carmen.

We took a shuttle straight to our Hostel and were greeted by Rio (a Chinese looking Mexican??) who showed us our beds. We then set off to find somewhere that sold a metal chain so we could lock our bags together in the absence of a locker. I was shocked to be directed to a Wallmart, after walking past a McDonalds, Subway and Burger King ... my initial thoughts were that I could be anywhere-feels a little Byron Bay and a lot like Thailand etc etc. The world is certainly getting smaller.

I am looking forward to seeing a more authentic Mexico, one that embraces it´s heritage and I am sure that I will as we get off the well worn tourist path.

In my short stay here I can say I was surprised that it is not more colourful but I am sure it will be- it just is not the artists palette of vibrance I envisaged. I have only seen a couple of mostaches and I am yet to see a Mexican in a sombrero...

Will comment on the drunkenness of the nation after I have tasted some of it´s finest Tequila tonight. Ra and I have our party pants on and will report in tomorrow.

Lots of Love

KP

The Journey

The journey has begun now, I am sitting on a deserted tube carriage on my way to Heathrow.

Walking out of my flat for the last time was difficult. My room became just a room, someone elses room. All the things that made it mine were missing, the memories hung in the air and I stood still and breathed it in as London moments flashed before my eyes. I was late and had to go quickly before I became too absorbed in reminiscing on what had been.

It is really sad that all of the people that made London so special for me weren't there to see me on my way. I have never set off on a trip of such magnitude with no one to take me to the airport. Such loneliness is testament to how far I have come and speaks volumes on why I need to go home.

I got angry with myself this morning, my backpack weighs a ton, definitely more than 20 kilos (i found out at check in it is 24.9... OMG).I left the flat with the intention of being a lush packer complete with various posh lotions and potions that I know now I will never use (a massive cull is in store).

I felt nauseous on my walk to the train station, a massive knot filled my tummy, bigger than a large balloon and I was not sure I would make the last 200 metres. I sat down briefly and pondered the situation before grimacing with the weight and walking on- head high.

That brings me to now, where I sit on a desolate carriage alone with my thoughts.

*****

I am now at the airport and getting ready to board. The knot from earlier today is back and my hands are shaking. Am I doing the right thing? Nerves I never knew I had have come to the surface. I am listening to my ipod as I write this- Joni Mitchell is playing and she's struck a chord with me.


******

I have now landed at Dulles International Airport (pronounced Dullas... not Dulls as I imagined). I was meet at the airport by Ian my tracksuit pant wearing Texan shuttle driver. I was the only passenger and we spoke not one word in the 30 minute drive here to the Comfort Inn. That was strange and so unlike me.

On arrival, I checked in and told reception I was starving- every bit the all American girl with a big toothy grin encased in scarlet lips with red nails to match directed me to Papa Johns the local pizza joint. It was sterile and the manager was on the phone to his ex wife Kathryn screaming about a custody dispute.. Welcome to America! I got a small take away pepperoni pizza which was massive and mostly uneaten.

Now I sit in my apricot coloured room waiting for the morning which will lead me to Mexico.

I cant wait to see Ra at the airport. I long for her embrace to take away the sadness that is leaving London.

Much love from the Comfort Inn Dulles International Airport.

XXX

Saying Goodbye

It is never easy saying good bye to your loved ones- and that has not been truer than now.

These last few weeks in London have been tough, I thought that I was doing really well and then on my last day at the office as I walked out of reception for the last time- tears crawled up my throat and poured down my cheeks. I've cried a few times since, even though I am not sad to be starting the adventure of a lifetime. My sadness comes in waves and it is not knowing if, when or ever I will live in London again which is the cruelest part for me.

I have never felt a massive affection for London, never felt the love I have for Syders but now that I am leaving I have spent time reflecting on all the things I have achieved here. I have (in the main) enjoyed my time, created lifelong friendships and had more opportunities to learn and improve myself that one could ever wish for in a lifetime. It is the differences to Sydney and Australia that makes London so special.

I have spent the last few days in Oxford with my dearest friends here in the UK. Christmas was a lovely affair, full of everything English and even though it was not a white one- it was perfect, complete with carols, turkey, puddings, banoffee pie (OMG- it is so good), presents and family.

I am at home now- I will spend my last 36 hours doing the final pack, cleaning my room and ticking off the last minute things from my list.

I am meeting Ra at Cancun Airport on the 29th after spending 13 hours in Washington DC.

Until then- KP

Twenty Boxes

I thought I would start blogging again- I really enjoyed it last time and only stopped because I felt that life had become too mundane.

Blogging for me is about describing some kind of adventure (I think the title gives this one away) and whilst living in London doing the Monday to Friday grind i felt a little bored with my own daily musings (but i guess that is why some blogs are amazing) the writer has the skill to make the uninteresting interesting etc etc.

It is freezing cold in London and I am currently packing up my life into 20 boxes ready to be shipped back down under to Sydney where I will land on June 4th.

I am in the midst of planning the grand tour- my personal Opus which will see me travel through Mexico, Belize and Guatemala- across to Switzerland, London (for 2 days) and then across to North Africa and down to Kenya, through Tanzania, Malai, Zambia, Uganda, Rwanda (for the Gorillas only), Botswana, Namibia and South Africa- where i will fly to my beloved hometown.

Right now i am overwhelmed- My room looks like a tip and I have so many things to do... namely fit my life into empty brown boxes, organise hotels/hostels, try to tie up loose ends at the office and get in the mood for Christmas.

It promises to be a crazy last few weeks. Bring it on!

I hope you will enjoy the adventures of KP part 2.

Lots of love

KP

XX

Ps- I land in Mexico on December 29.

Christina-The Most Beautiful Yacht... EVER

TBC

Portifino

TBC

Cool Picture- London View of City Skyline

Just wanted to upload this pic- i quite like it- taken with my phone whilst walking over Waterloo bridge (i think??). In the background you can see the London CBD skyline. I work behind all the cranes. On the left is the dome is St Pauls (where princess Di got married... i think) and the on the far right you can see the Gherkin (a famous building home to lots of bankers and lawyers).

KP

My Rash

As mentioned earlier please see a picture of my rash on my arm....Yuk, it ended up covering me fro head to toe... and quarantined me from my office-It has almost entirely gone now and i think it was actually hives at the grand old age of 26 ... funny last outbreak of this happened when i was about 10- a reaction to my throat infection.

You know you have made it when....

You know you have made it when....you get invited to the same party as Claudia Schiffer, Helen Boheme Carter, Slash and Kim Catrall- despite the fact that you are ZZZ list, well actually nothing list!

That was how I felt when 'a pants man' aka Ben invited me to the Royal Academy Summer Show Preview.

Held on Piccadilly opposite the Ritz, it is said to be one of the most 'important' art openings in the world...and the thing everybody should go to after Cannes darling.

I frocked up after work in the bathrooms and wore a lemon yellow dress on loan from my flatmates wardrobe and met Ben at Green Park Tube (the only way to travel) before strutting the red carpet that was actually yellow. My level or co-ordination had reached a new level.

It was a spectacular event, so extravagant and opulent i felt a little out of place but did my best evapourate into the crowds.

The food was delicious- i made a place for myself at the oyster bar and ate like no one was watching me. The art was a bit of a let down, it was miss matched and hodge podge and nothing really took my fancy and whilst i am not the most qualified judge, Ben was the prettiest picture there (so corney- but he is undeniably beautiful).

I am not sure what exactly that I have made and do not fear, I am not a changed person for hanging around a load of beautiful wankers- and laughing at them behind their back for their use of ladee da language. To me the night felt like a debutantes ball without the frilly white dress, bad hair and ugly boy to escort you. My London coming of age party of soughts.

The night was cut short though by the presence of a unsightly red rash on my extremities, nothing the beautiful people really want to get close too (except Ben that is), a head ache and sore throat. The next morning at the doctors (quarantined from work), i discovered I had a strep throat and a rash to match.

Never fear, i am recovering quietly at home and will be back to good health in no time.

Brilon

I have always wanted to go to Brilon, my sister in law Maren has talked about it for years and it is the now the home of her parents and also where my brother got married over 10 years ago.

I had heard of it's beauty for years and was keen to see it for myself. It is stunning, idealic and relaxing.

Roddy and I picked up a posh hire car at Frankfurt airport and headed down the autobarn.

On arrival, night was falling and i was over joyed to see my euro family again and even more excited to see Mars and my god daughter Noonie and nephew Jules.

The next week was spent lounging, eating cake, taking country walks and playing with the kids.

It was the injection of home after almost a year away that i did not know how badly i needed. I felt at peace with the familiarity that only your family can give... I even joked that if i ate anything more i would need to get rolled on to the plane back to London.

The time we spent went far too quickly but i cherish the memories and look forward to more lazy summer days with family.

Brother Bobbi comes to town

I met Roddy at the airport straight after arriving from Istanbul- his flight from Tokyo arrived a few minutes after mine and we quickly set about making the most of our time in London.

First stop my flat to deposit his 60 kilos of luggage (it must be a family trait to travel heavy). We visited some old bookshops in charring cross and Notting Hill before taking in the photographers gallery.

It was a short visit less than 24 hours in total before we boarded a flight bound from Frankfurt to pick our our hire car and head to Brilon, in the North Rhine district where Maren's family (my sister in law) have a country house.

Tavla Town

The sound finds you even when you least expect it. Dow a dark alley on the footpath, there is no escaping the gentle rattle of the dice and you know that you are in Tavla town, any backgammoners paradise... KP Welcome to Istanbul.

Istanbul was unlike anything i had expected, i thought that my 5 days would be reminiscent of something out of Arabian Nights, perhaps a little like Ali Baba but i was wrong. Istanbul is a sophisticated secular European city that is exciting, charming and interesting.

Arriving at the airport i was delighted to see Paulius, dressed every bit the successful aristocrat we jumped into a cab to trendy G-hanger (ok it is not spelt that way), a cool neighbourhood filled with rich turks and X-pats.

I was gobsmacked- Paulius had always has had nice digs in Oxford but this was something of another dimension- with 270 degree views of the city, a post card panorama that encompasses the Blue Mosque, the water, cruise liners and a sunny outlook, i felt like i had stepped onto the set of 'lifestyles of the rich and the famous'.

Paulius set about making me a gin and tonic and we relaxed on his terrace, overlooking the city and watching the night come alive with fairy lights, call to prayer and sunset.

Next we opened a bottle of champers and set about celebrating our reunion in style, we successful to an upmarket restaurant called lips of the seas (where the two seas met - it happens in Istanbul apparently) and together we sipped cocktails till dawn.

Next day, i awoke with a fairy extreme hangover, but with no rest in sight, Paulius and I tackled the major sights, a fantastic host, Paulius told me of the Romans, the architects, the sultans and the harem like a professional. We saw my favourite building this side of Angkor- Hagia Sophia a Byzantine church renovated into a mosque some 1000 years ago, the blue mosque and the head quarters of the Ottoman empire.

Next it was my turn to teach Paulius something and i gave him my skills at tavla. We sat on the Galanta bridge and watched the sun set. Paulius with impressive instinct and natural intellect was a master after one game and was soon my equal and even sooner my tormentor, beating me consistently within 30 minutes.

The next day we went on a boat ride to asia and that took in the mighty bospouhrs and afterwards we had cocktails and a quiet dinner before I persuaded a Turkish man to play me at gammon.... I was out with something to prove. At first the gent laughed figuring me to be easy oposition but he was soon surprised when some of my NC skills came into force and i gammoned hm twice before defeating him 5-4. I was then asked to play a local legend, i nicknamed him the champion and before i even begun i was defeated- the guy was something of an enigma to me and whilst the games lasted on average 3 minutes i feel that i learnt from his greatness at the table and i achieved what i set out too in turkey.

The next day with Paulius at work, i went to the grand bizarre and was slightly disappointed- it was significantly less consuming than expected. I purchased a new backgammon set and a couple of prints for my London flat before meeting Paulius in the eve to sip one final bottle of champagne before i headed back to back to London and into the arms of my brother.

Single Sundays

Photo- Trafalgar Square

I had dinner with my friend Maxine the other night, Maxine is one of my best girlfriends in London, she is always a good giggle, with a fantastic turn of phrase she almost forces me to look at things in different ways.

Together we pondered London, our relationships and Maxine introduced me to an expression I had not heard before... Single Sundays. Like a topic those female characters I used to worship would write about- think Carrie Bradshaw or perhaps my very own British version Bridget Jones, I was sucked in and could think of nothing better to blog about.

I never noticed before but Sundays seem to have the capacity to be the loneliest days of all. Perhaps that is why they have always been associated with the day of rest. Or in my own case family and the friends I have known forever.

Have you ever noticed how the propensity for real intimacy increases dramatically on a Sunday morning (and I am not just talking about sex)? Have you ever noticed how your Sunday friends are the ones you can be around with ease? Perhaps if only because of the intolerable hangover you are suffering. It does seem that our tolerance for new friends decreases dramatically on the Sabbath. Could it be that a Sunday date is more special than those held on the more traditional date nights??

After our conversation, I recalled that I had spent my last Sunday without anyone to share my fruit salad with and whilst I was not lonely, choosing instead to explore North London on foot, read the papers and laze in bed- I was the embodiment of a single Sunday girl. I am not sure if I loved it or loathed it- I lived it like I live every day with a smile resting in the corners of my mouth embracing completely what it is to be in the present.

Earlier this year, I had spent most Sundays laying in the park with a nameless boy who until a few weeks ago was my main fella here. An English lad I casually dated. I do not regret the ending of the association I really think a big part of me embraced it (that is another story). Funny, how it is only when you have a single Sunday that you take stock of life. As i wandered through Regents Park I realised how far I have come and still i also noted how far I have to go…

The journey is only just beginning and as I spend more single Sundays here as my friendships cement, I am content knowing i will soon begin to spend them wrapped up in the conversations of my north side nearest and dearest and I will be able to delete the expression single Sunday from my vocabulary.

On the upside, I am off to Turkey this week to explore with Paulius (a Lithuanian boy i met in Oxford), I am more than excited, it is a country I have always wanted to go too, steeped in Australian myth. The following Sunday I will be in Germany with my Bobbi and Mars and the one after with Jen sailing in Italy- so don’t send the gin and razor blades just yet.

Missing home- KP

A week in London

A week in London is a long time; it is a city that feels like it is constantly evolving around you, it is a place where your outlook can change in a second and in 7 days things can feel completely different to how they were.

The last 7 days have been just like that.

In la the last week I have played my first real poker game (Texas hold'em), seen my first West End show (Les Mis), been the Belle of my first UK ball (London Young Lawyers), attend my first house party (in London.. not ever- a massive affair in Shoreditch), feel single .. (no comment), fall in love (with a book... The End of the Affair.. really, it is that good), feel young and old at the same time (I had root canal- am I falling apart?- is it all down hill from here?), enjoy my first soccer ganne (how good are the hammers!) miss home (it was Mothers Day), meet some boys (but I won't kiss and tell- save that one for the ladies and the Aunts), and love London (how can you not)!

Life seems to carry on here at a frenetic pace and it is good to stay at home and catch my breath even if it is only for one night. Tonight, James came over and I cooked him dinner and we reminisced about the days when we were London room mates (it was only 3 months ago- but a lifetime when the weeks fly by). James has quickly become my best friend here, a blessing in a big city!

My gorgeous cousin Jen is arriving from Switzerland tomorrow and I am beyond excited, we are having dinner in/at Little Venice (a suburb, i have not been there yet- so i am not sure if the name is apt).

This weekend looks like it could be a quiet affair (but you never can tell), I contemplated going to Cows with Jen for a weekend of sailing and sunshine in Cornwell but decided against it given I am heading to Turkey next week and Germany with my Bobbi (my brother) the one after that.

No rest for the wicked!

Have some Autumn fun for me, miss you (you know who).

KP
XX

Sun in London (not an oxymoran!)

Taken with my camera phone last week- view from south bank just near my office!

Oban

I caught a flight straight after work from Stanstead and arrived in Glasgow at about 10pm rushing into the embrace of Andy (an old Balmain flat mate).

Given I had not seen Andy in years (it must be about 5) it was amazing to see that nothing had really changed, we both laughed at the same things, joked and relived old times well into the wee hours (had to get that in). I adore that about old friends and have been so lucky to have had that reception from all of those that I have looked up on this current adventure. Thank you!

Andy had a plan and he was keen to impress on me all the wonderful things about Scotland … as if the accent and the men are not enough!!!

In accordance with the plan, the next morning we headed to Oban, home of some of the nicest scotch the world has ever tasted.

The train took about 3 hours and the scenery was stunning, for the most part I felt like singing Kate Bush at the top of my lungs… it really is like that, we took in loch after loch, mountain after mountain and it was hard to wipe the smile off my face. To pass the time, between gazing out the window in astonishment at the sheer beauty of the place, we completed a cross word with the help of an elderly couple who looked like they were still in love and well into their 70’s.

On arrival at whiskey town, we decided to explore and got as far as the Oban Inn before the heavens decided to open up and my desire form some scotch took hold. We stayed there till closing and pondered puns for this very blog- my favourite an Andy creation- Oban for Pissedness!

Next morning, we caught a ferry to the isle of Mull. When we got to the dock, we boarded a massive ship (a ferry cross between the PNO fairstar luxury liner) for the 45 min journey. I have never been on a boat that big- it takes cars, has an amusement parlor, restaurant and massive windows to allow the curious like KP to take in everything.

TBC

Nice buds

After spending a gorgeous day lazing in Hazel's garden, shopping and eating chocolate we decided to visit the King's greenhouses. Open for 3 weeks a year- i knew not what to expect when one visits a palace.

On arrival i was gobsmacked- one of the most beautiful places known to mankind- have a look at the pctures on flickr.

XXXX

Muscles from Brussels

Despite my best attempts, I was not able to locate John Claude Van Dam on my short weekend away in Belgium- i searched high and low but the little man with the guns that make the girls go weak at the knees was not to be seen anywhere.

I arrived courtesy of the Eurostar- which saw me leave my office and standing in Hazel's amazing 'home beautiful' apartment in just over 3 hours.

Exhausted from a big week work wise and feeling a little emotionally drained (it was my mum's birthday a few days earlier...a time that is always a little sad for me)- i was glad to get on with things and create some fun for myself.

First stop- a cafe/bar that was heaving and allowed me to sample some of Belgium's finest beers- after only a couple- they are STRONG i was on the way.

Next morning, i awoke in the home beautiful apartment- it is equisite with 4 metre ceilings, glass windows over looking a rustic garden with a lilac tree, a white broome tree, a delicious coloured camellia in bloom and an abundance of lady beetles.

Soon we headed off in search of chocolate- not very hard around here and a waffle (for me).

We wandered down the lush Avenue Louise, as we strolled past Prada, Louis Vitton and D&G- i was discovered an entirely knew phenomena- people in Brussels wear a lot of brown! After the discovery was made it was all i could see- tan pants, chocolate coloured tops, right down to scuffed shoes- the city is teaming with a brigade of designer dressed brown aficionados and i felt out of place in my stripey yellow T and green cap.....

First we went to a lovely square with an arguable 'antique' market, full of the odd piece of treasure but by and by new things meant to look old with the occasional chandelier for effect. next we paraded the chocolate shop, my favourite moment of the weekend- i sampled some of the finest chocolate known to man- flavours rich, soft in texture and delicious in taste. HEAVEN.

Next we headed to Manakin Pis- a bizarre tourist attraction which essentially is a 40 centimetre statue of a boy doing a wee....lucky for me- it was a special day at the statue and instead of the usual water he was relieving him self through a reverse catheter of beer... only in Belgium- people lined in a quest for the holy piss and i laughed- took photos and found it all rather bizarre.

Next stop was the main square, possibly the nicest spot in town- reminiscent o the main square in Venice- gold glittered on windows, statues bathed in sunshine... very European.


In the afternoon- after walking most of the city- H and I decided it was time for a power nap before we met up with 6 other lawyers for dinner- i discovered that 25% of the population are expats- mostly centered around the EU offices.

Dinner was a slow affair- the service invariably bad but the food was good.

We ended the night downing cocktails in a swanky city bar.

TBC

I could have been a WAG

In my last entry about Iceland- i forgot to mention the handsome man who tried to pick me up at a bar.... thinking nothing of it (he is human ... ok a joke), i talked and chatted away like usual, in an attempt to get an insight into the Icelandic phyche... his friend told me that by occupation the guy i was talking to was a professional soccer player and famous in Iceland.....

Noting that everyone is a professional soccer player when they met a foreigner-or at least should be... i laughed it off until..... the other day he sent me an email to say hello... intrigued as to whether he really was a soccer star... i googled him (as i had his full name..) and to my surprise he used to play for none other than the hotties... AKA The Tottenham Hotspurs- my team! it is a small world after all

XX

Ice Ice Baby!

As the plane touched down, I gazed out the window, i wanted to remember my first impressions of Iceland.

The first thing I noticed whilst looking out of my small window was it was covered in a thin film of ice, like crystals they shinned in the moonlight... the penny dropped- this is why they call it Iceland.

After disappointingly going through passport control and receiving only a standard EU stamp when I was in pursuit of something much more exotic, I boarded a coach bound for the YHA- the bus driver, extremely jovial given it was 1:00am delighted in taking me.

With eyes glued to the window, I noticed a low rise landscape of grey pebbled ash buildings with only the occasional splash of colour and neons lighting up the black night.

From my window the influence of American culture surprised me- hot dog bars, pizza and American kebab shops made up most of the food outlets i saw from the bus. The roads were wide and i could not help but thinking i was in an Artic version of Canberra. Not surprising that Reykjavik has a population just over 100, 000 is built by a harbour (that looks like Lake George) and is surrounded by mountains (although ice capped).

Up early the next morning after only a short sleep, I went on a whale watching adventure, braving the cold in my pink puffa jacket that Jen gave me- I resembled a walking doona. I boarded my boat and was quickly overcome with cold- lucky for me i was given all in one fishing overalls- tre sexy but I did manage to regain the feeling in my legs.

Dolphins played by the boat and i was lucky enough to catch a glimpse of some minke whales diving near by. Unfortunately, my usual quick action with the camera was lost- perhaps because my arms were near freezing and i only got one picture where you can make out clearly 3 dolphin fins.

By afternoon I was exhausted and skipped my planned sight seeing trip to Reykjavik preferring sleep to a city that looked empty and uninspiring by night.

That evening i went to the blue lagoon, Iceland's most famous sight. Situated near a power station, it is a lagoon with milky aqua water that smells like egg farts to the untrained nose (I heard later it was sulphur- it stinks).

I did what all people do and rubbed silica mud onto all exposed parts and received a nice body mask, I sat in the sauna and delighted in the steam room- not a bad way to spend a Friday night and watch as the sun set in shades of pinks and yellows that you never knew existed against a barren black landscape.

On Saturday,I went into the wilderness and braved the severe cold, sleet that whipped your your face like a cat of nine tails and rain that got you drenched in seconds. I saw Guilfoss a spectacular waterfall, an old volcano and i went to Iceland's largest lake- the scenery at times reminded me of the dartmoores in in the UK- it is vast, empty and the land of big sky country- it feels like you can see forever.... snow capped mountains, icey ledges, rocks, cliffs and moss all in abundance. You could be forgiven for thinking it could be the set of the next mad max film, so rugged and beautiful it is.

I learnt a lot abut Iceland during the day- it is self sufficient in carrots, has over 75,000 horses and had its first cockroach epidemic in 2003.

By nightfall, having amassed a group of friends comprises some Americans, a couple of English and some Spaniards we hit the town in earnest- bur only after finishing a couple of bottles of vodka... after dancing at some of the hippest clubs in town we collapsed in bed at 5:00am just in time for a few hours sleep.

Up at 7:00am I was off on my next adventure.... a visit to the biggest glacier in Europe- the day was spent wavering from exhaustion to pure delight. At the glacier I drove a skidoo across the landscape- managed to go sideways a few times (thought that would impress the boys) and hit 80 kilometres at my top speed. At times the sky was not separated from the snow and it felt like walking on fairy floss.

I ended my day gasping at the briliance and beauty on the edge of a massive waterfall (i forget its name now) but it was breath taking.

I stumbled home just in time for a few hours sleep before my 7:00am flight back to London.

Truly a wonderful weekend!

XX

The local

just a snap of the pub two doors down from my house....

At home now

Today I am at home sick from work, I am suffering from a head cold and have spent most of the day oscillating from sleep to blog and back to sleep again.

I thought I was about time I did some maintenance on my site and given that my Internet and PC are now both working at home- look out.

I can't promise the excitement or the adventure that I provided you with from Asia.

The last few weeks have seen me really dig my nails into London- little routines have developed and I feel like an official resident. Signs include the fact that I recently received my National Insurance number in the mail... similar to a tax file number, I also have a 12 month mobile phone contract and I own more books than one could ever read in a lifetime.... i just love them!

This weekend, James Rigney, George Nguyen (Uni Mates) and I checked out the Temple Walk About- a terrible brand of Australian themed pubs that broadcast the best sport-noticed the prominance of setanta Conor... unfortunately I missed watching the swans live but I heard about their defeat... we watched Liverpool take on Arsenal.... and old favourite Peter Crouch got an amazing hat trick- is there nothing he cant do.... boys???

I have let myself love soccer and am learning the talk and will enter fantasy football tipping contest next season... boys send your tips... I would love to teach English boys in my office a lesson. Conor maybe i could enter the same team you do??

On Sunday, James and I went to Hoxten Square- apparently the coolest place for people to be seen in the east end on Sunday afternoons. I laughed out loud at the cool kids in abundance- it seems that fashion here whilst similar to Sydney is so OTT. If i see another person in fluro tight jeans i will vomit... and the sun glasses... white sunnies never suited anyone, least of all a pastie English people!

It seems that people try and look ugly on purpose and choose to wear colours that don't match, fabrics that clash and shapes that are wrong on purpose- i wonder if it is for attention or the look? I realise now that i am turning into an old lady and i will soon be the one that says 'turn it down' and 'in my day' ....

I am off to Iceland this weekend, which should be spectacular- i will go to the blue lagoon, wat ch whales, ride a snow mobile across a glacier and take a trip to the golden circle...a lot for one weekend. I toyed with the idea of a side trip to Greenland but i figure one Arctic adventure per month is enough for the kid.

Write of Iceland soon.

XX

Back on Track

I wanted to stick some more pics on here to document my daily life.... the view from my bedroom

more apologies

view on my street-in snow

Since arriving in London, I have not written very much, not because of lack of inspiration, the city buzzes with energy and it feels like every day I discover something new; about the place; myself; or both.

I like the adventure and the knowledge quest this city has become to me. It feels like I am always finding something new, looking at the same things but each day seeing the light reflect things another way and things feel like they are becoming clearer every second I am here. Pangs of joy readily escape when I discover a new short cut, or simply how things meet up together… the other day I discovered china town hiding just behind Soho.

The feelings of suffocation I felt I suffered seem to have evaporated and I whilst I am still battling the mundane in many ways it is just so much more exciting here... for the moment.

My job is going well but has been a massive adjustment. I have discovered I know nothing about the market or my clients and the processes at my office feel so anti user that my first few weeks have been hard. Couple this with the fact that most brits seem to be more reserved and just not Australian… it has been an exciting but challenging time.

The more time I spend at the office the more I like it, I am beginning to feel apart of the team slowly but things are so different in my office than they were in Sydney that I have struggled at times. Put simply- I loved NC, I loved going to work and laughing till I cried almost everyday and realizing that this won’t ever happen here has been hard.

On the up side, I have spent my weekends doing what I love best- anyone who has ever traveled with me knows about my propensity for a great walk. Today I strolled up to Primrose Hill which gives one a stunning view of the entire city… the horizon is dotted with more landmarks in one vista than you could think possible, the eye, St Pauls, the zoo, Regents Park and Kings Cross all play in the same skyline.

Afterwards, I wandered around colourful streets with buildings in varying pastel shades, noting provadores, fromagires and bakeries where I will spend my pounds... when I have more of them. Before I knew it I was in Camden- the home of the punk, tartan and black fishnets replaced the Georgian mansions and you could be forgiven for thinking you had stepped back in time. Camden is electric, narrow streets teaming with the curious, the bargain hunter, the tourist and the locals all wandering together like sardines on a Sunday afternoon.


Later I strolled down to Oxford Circus and finally and to my beloved Marylebone High Street- a gorgeous street filled with expensive boutiques with pretty window displays you could get lost in. I stopped in my new favourite book shop (Daunts Books) ad the recommendation of my cousin and fell in love with the arched windows and old fashioned ladders on wheels. Next stop, the Oxfam book store where I overloaded myself with Jane Austen (something’s never change- when you assumed I had read them all… twice), Capote, Kerourac and JD Salinger et al.

There is something I love about being surrounded by books, it feels like surrounding yourself with friends- shelves loaded with people you will soon love, loathe or leave. Shelves loaded with people you loved and lost, characters you will remember years after they came into your world- so much like life. I guess that explains why I forced my dad to except 10 boxes full of them, ready to be loved again on my return.


On my way home, I stopped at Waitrose a posh supermarket and picked up some ingredients for my gourmet hot beef salad. It was delicious.

My house is fantastic, a great relief. My flat mates are unreal and it does feel like a home, somewhere I know I am going to be happy in. My old friend James Rigney is staying with me (we went to uni together) and he remarked that is very similar to my old digs at Abercrombie street- which is a fair comparison and probably explains why I loved it the second I saw it- it is kinda run down, the floors are not quite level but it is charming even though the walls are in need of a paint- and the furniture could have been purchased at the Tempe tip.


My room has become an oasis- it measures about 8 meters by 5 meters- is bathed in light and overlooks a retro electrical company. With mint green walls and one that is a slightly odd shade of federation green that despite my initial revulsion I have learned to like. Whilst furnished out of an Ikea catalogue, it has a certain charm generated by the odd Asian souvenir I lugged on my travels. The house is situated on the same street as one of London highest towers- it is well and truly in the middle of everything and yet in still feels like a village.


My street is littered with cafes, shoe repairers an old launderette, 3 quaint pubs and it is within spitting distance of Regents Park. I also live in the shadow of greatness and my suburb Fitzrovia was once home to George Orwell, Virgina Wolf and George Bernard Shaw.

Yesterday, I did something terribly spontaneous but great. I went to the travel agent to book some holidays for Easter and a long weekend in May and despite going in there with the intention of going to Egypt, morocco, Tunisia, Russia, or Greece- I am now going to Turkey and Iceland… random but exiting, I am still comprehending the fact I can travel and still work… anyone with tips on Iceland please pass them on!

It is good to be alive. Well, that’s about it from me- Hope you are well, my real home is in my thoughts.

I am sorry

I am sorry to my fans for not posting lately. I will be better i promise.

I am settled in London and having a ball. I have moved into the nicest house, a 200 year old Georgian building that is full of charm and character. I am sharing with 2 amazing boys... who are such a blessing.

Gareth who work in music publishing and is the epitome of cool- a skinny pant wearing drummer and Andy a funny, charming Liverpudlian who can fix anything (including washing machines when KP breaks them).

The flat is in W1, the best post code the city has to offer and is right near Regents Park, Great Portland Street and Oxford Circus and close enough to everything to make walking practical even when it is zero degrees.

I have wireless Internet at my flat and I am lucky enough to listen to abc stremmed online, I love hearing the traffic reports as I prepare for slumber- weird that everything is in reverse.

I went to Oxford last weekend and it felt like going home. It was great to be in the countryside and surrounded by the familiar in such an unfamiliar time.

I am managing to fill most nights with some form of activity, from visiting friends to drinks with my colleagues i feel like I am getting settled.

I am off to an Australia day party on Friday night which should be wild, I hear that people tend to celebrate national days here more than they do at home.

I will give you all the BIG update soon...

In the meantime,

I will be thinking of you in your sleep.

Dreaming of a White Christmas

Every day up until Christmas I was praying for snow. I seemed to gain a slight obsession with mother nature and began researching about when you can tell it is about to snow so i would be prepared... werid i know.

I was spending Christmas in a small Swiss village near St Galland in Appenzel (where the cheese comes from). Excited by Robbi (my cousin in laws predictions) of the ground being covered in snow, I couldn't wait and felt like a kid again. I was worried that it was too warm as it was about 3 degrees in Zug.

On Christmas eve we left Jen''s for the two hour journey and the scenery was amazing; mountains; lakes and snow covered trees were in abundance and I was well and truly in fairy land.

We were joined by some other cousins- Caroline and Pino (from Bondi) and their two gorgeous girls Isabella and Claudia and it was so wonderful to be around family again. Caroline and the girls had just spent a year living in iskia (off the Italian coast) and the girls had learnt to speak Italian and brought so much fun to our Christmas adventure.

Christmas was incredibly luxurious, on arrival at the village that was entirely white we went for a scenic walk and played in the snow. It was an previously unseen beauty, the type that takes your breath away (maybe that was because it was so cold). Next we had a sauna, which involved getting really hot and running into the cold pool, drinking a beer and repeating the process. Finally we sat down to a never ending feast of fish, caviar, ham, potatoes and loads of other yummy treats.

Next it was time for presents and i was spoilt rotten, considering I was away from home. That night i spoke to my family and my my brother got my nieces and nephews to sing me jingle bells down the phone- i couldn't hold back the tears and their cute little cartoony voices made my Christmas unforgettable.

The next morning, after one of the nicest breakfasts in the history of breakfast where i even ate reindeer from Lapland we set off on our drive to St Anton an Austrian ski resort in the alps.

When we got there, we loaded the luggage into the chalet and set about cooking our Australian meal. We had roast turkey and veggies followed by Australian delights including caramello koalas and tim tams.

Welcome to Switzerland

After almost smashing the world record for the 500 metre dash with 40 kilos of luggage in transit in Berlin because my connecting plane was 2 hours late, I was ecstatic to see my stunning cousin Jen waiting for me at the airport in zurich with a sign that read WELCOME TO SWITZERLAND KP. I have always wanted a sign like that to be waiting for me and my first impressions of Switerland shpowed me that dreams can come true.

Jen's gorgeous face beamed as I approached and we chatted all the way to her apartment in Zug, a small fairy tale town on a picture perfect lake back dropped by mountains outside of Zurich.

Robbi, Jen's husband was picking up their brand new car and when we got home we went for a spin in their white Land Rover Defender, every boys dream come true.

Jen is one of the most thoughtful and generous people i know and she had prepared for my stay complete with a teddy bear, chocolates and hidden pre Christmas presents under my pillow... it was so nice to be home!

Budapest

KP on the Shoot
Originally uploaded by kathrynparry41.

I arrived at Budapest airport very keen and excited to see an old friend from Oxford, Mark is living in Budapest at the expense of his London law firm who sent him to Hungry on secondment.

We met near the Opera House on Andrassy Uta (the Champs Elysees of Budapest, and spine of down town Pest, a street filled with designer boutiques and stunning Christmas lights).

The Callas Cafe was stunning, gorgeous high ceilings, white tiled interior and dark wood furniture. I ordered a traditional Goulash soup, it came with a thick layer of grease on the top that kinda just floated there but was delicious.

Afterwards, Mark showed me to his palatial apartment and I mean PALATIAL, it was a real treat with floor to ceiling windows overlooking the Opera House and more rooms than one single person ought to have.

That night, Mark and I arranged to go out for dinner with his friend, another English lawyer also living in Budapest on secondment. We went to a stylish restaurant called Mokka and I proceeded to have the wild bore, compared to the nasty pictures I have seen on the net subsequently the pig taste quite gentle.

That night, after dinner Mark delivered some chocolates to his friend and had a night cap despite saying he would return home, he spent the night and I was left in the palatial apartment by myself. I awoke several times convinced that the phantom from the opera (from across the road) had decided to haunt me instead. The apartment made more noises than I remember any other home letting out. The heating rattled like an old train, and the light fitting in my room was broken and several times I was a woken to my light flashing on and off quickly.

The following night, Mark and I ate at Menza, a funky restaurant that you could be forgiven for thinking was in London or Sydney. I was surprised to see how sophisticated and global Budapest had got in the five years since my last visit, gone were the preforming monkeys at the train stations, the weary looking faces and run down apartment blocks, replaced with a city on the brink of prosperity. Chain stores were in abundance, the same stores that line the high street in every European city, H&M, Zara, Clinique and top shop are on every corner, I also notices an abundance of cranes, perhaps on vacation from Berlin an indicator of the enormous growth and development that had been stimulated through Hungary's inception into the EU.

The next night, Mark and I went to the ballet at the Opera House and I dressed up a treat, we saw the Nutcracker and for a few hours I was back watching the Bolshoi ballet at the Sydney Opera House with my mother aged 5, memories came flooding back, a good sound track always does that... well done Tchaikovsky.

Afterwards, we decided to have dinner at Menza again (because it really is that good) and Mark went back to the office to do what corporate lawyers do best... and called me later to say he was leaving the office.

Mark was late and in typical KP fashion, I managed to strike up a conversation with three empowering and wonderful women sitting near by. The women were great value and consisted of a publisher from Melbourne, a forgien news correspondent from Germany and a photographer from New York.

Together we drank glass after glass of red wine and had a wonderful night.

The girls I met at the bar were angels to me and they spent the next 4 days showering me in attention and friendliness which is good when your host is a corporate lawyer with little or no free time.

Bianca even asked me to do a photo shoot, Palma took me to the Christmas markets, Mags engaged me in good old aussie conversation. It was an unforgettable week.

Back in Berlin

Berlin has always been my favourite city in Europe. Maybe it is unfair to say that (to the rest of Europe that is) but it is a city synonymous with fun and I have always loved the feeling you get when you are there that you are literally watching and apart of something growing.

Once when I was there I counted 20 cranes in a single photograph. I love cranes. Sometimes I wish I was one and at other times I feel like I am one, especially when travelling alone and watching life at a distance.

Cranes are Berlin to me, though this time when I was there I did not spot any, I am sure they are still there, somewhere, I just wasn't looking.

My European brother Goetz picked me up at the airport. I loved seeing his 6 foot 5 frame smile at me from the gate. He picked my bag up like it was a feather.

We walked towards the car and I did what I have done every time he has picked me up at the airport... I went to sit in the drivers seat by mistake, he motioned the keys towards me and together we laughed ... he had got me again and this time I was travelling there from Europe.

The air was cold on my cheeks and made my nose go red. I watched as little puffs of white air escaped everytime I breathed. We talked the way two people do when they have not seen each other in 5 years, sentences poured out that were rarely finished.

Goetz drove quickly to an amazing apartment in Kliespark, an abundance of light and space straight from a magazine greeted me when we turned the key. It was mine to house sit whilst my European sister Linda's travelled around Pakistan.

Afterwards at my request we went straight to my favourite bar (maybe in the whole world), The Slumberland near nollendorf platz, a bar where the entire floor is covered in sand, the walls are lined with kitch pictures of Jamaicans and Africans with afros doing 1950's and 60's hair commercials.

The girl behind the bar gave me a double take, it was Dianna the same bar tended from 2001 (actually she has worked there for 13 years), she almost jumped over the bar and gave me a massive hug and kiss. Welcome home and what are you having was all she had to say.

Tired from a early start to the day I planned just a quiet drink or two, soon the bar began to fill with more old friends and before I knew it I was being shouted drinks from all corners. 3 am came and went and somehow I managed to slide of my chair, avoid the sand pit and stumble home.

I love the fact that Berlin is the land of the late drinkers and rather large beers.

The next night we went to a club called 'tobe', we met in Krutzberg and headed to the mitte (pronounced Mitter.. it is East Berlin) where the air was kinda hazy and the music was bob Marley, reggae and dance hall.

After drinking countless vodka shots followed with becks chasers it was not too long until KP was dancing like no one was watching.

I noticed that people dance differently in Europe, it is something I have thought before but could never put my finger on... I think that people use their lower halves more... if that make sense?

To be continued.

Old friends reunite

KP & Lisa
Originally uploaded by kathrynparry41.

After spending almost every cent I have in Barcelona at the best shoe sale in the history of shoe sales, I was back in Paris, this time with my bags much heavier (ok so if truth be told I had to buy another one for the shoes). In fact at check in my bags set a new record and my back pack is a staggering (yes I actually stagger when wearing it) 25 kilos.

I have become so used to the load that I only wince a little bit when putting it on.

Back in the comfort of St Sulpice, which I found out is one of Paris' best addresses I watched Rachel's comic surprise when unloading my shoes... you brought that many she said, her tone part shocked part disbelief as I admit ed my indulgence, vanity and the like.

I have never really been a big shopper, my father would disagree but extravagance does not come easy for a girl who had holidays spending 3 and half months ruffing it in Asia, but they were all so beautiful I felt that it would be a crime not to take them home.

Afterwards, Rachel told me that when Sex in the City was filmed in Paris, our petite apartment was filmed in one of the street shots.... laden with more shoes that I care to admit, perhaps I was the real Carrie Bradshaw!

That night, Rachel arranged for us to met some of her friends from university, an intelligent Ivy League group with whom I debated American foreign policy and the recent US election results with, it felt more like a discussion from home and certainly nothing which I encounted on the back packing circuit.

We went to a little French bar, that was quaint and the perfect place to sample some vino, the wine was delicious and as we sat at the bar we watched out the window as a very handsome guy wearing a beret and carrying a baguette walked past (honest truth!!)... I felt the urge to run him down with my camera, the epitome of Frenchness to me but I stopped when I realised how agitated the French can get about things like that.

The next day, the weather was terrible, my plan to go running along the seine was cancelled when we stepped outside and felt the bitterly cold wind against our cheeks and the torrential rain on our heads, instead we went to the local market and fromagery and made soup and salad at home and laying in bed and reading the news.

That night we met up with Aurile another old house mate from Abercrombie Street, and went to a postcard perfect street in St Germain for some more wine, she was as beautiful and charming as I remembered and we caught up about old times living in redfern which seemed such a world away from my existence in Paris.


The next morning Lisa arrived from China and unable to sleep (I was too excited), I bounded out of bed at 5 am and set about getting ready to met her at a famous french cafe where Hemmingway used to hang out near St Germain.

I arrived at the cafe very early, the croissants still in the oven and was asked to come back a few hours later... I wandered Paris' dark back streets, illuminated by the moon and the odd street light and was happy to be alive.

When Lisa did rush into the cafe I was overjoyed. Matt (her lovely boyfriend/live in lover) looked very french in his kangol cap and together we set about seeing some sights. I played tour guide and together we walked every street in Paris, kilometre after kilometre until we were all so tired we felt like we would drop.

That night I met up with another old flatmate (are you sensing a trend.... 3 people I have lived with now all reside in St Germain... umm a coincidence or something more?). Dave took me to a great crepe shop and I indulged in goats cheese and salad (on a crepe) and good old fashioned nutella... makes my mouth water at the thought.

I was sad to leave Paris, my name sake city uncertain of when I would return but so happy to have had the chance to see so many old friends.