Sorry old man, I don't do 70+

So this old man in the park. As I said in previous blog, I was just enjoying the sun in this beautiful park in Porto, lying on some rocks (it was comfy I swear!) and this old man walks past. He comes up to me and starts talking portuguese - I explained I can't understand him so he just smiles gently and leans over to kiss my forehead. Slightly weird, I thought. But I'll let that one go.

Then he points to some seats in the sun so I oblige and let him lead me there. I'm sitting there and he sits next to me. Kisses me AGAIN on the forehead after more failed attempts to talk to me. Then gets my arm and puts it across his shoulders. A little more weird. I pull away, saying 'too hot too hot', not wanting to upset the poor old man. And I'm talking old. At least 75.

Undeterred, he then tries to grab my hand and sit there hand in hand with me. I've just met this dude. WTF??? So I pull my hand away gently. Maybe the old geezer just wants a friend. So I continue to sit there cross-legged looking at the view of the Douro river and Porto town. He then offers his lap for me to lie down again. I refuse and immediately start to think of evacuation plans. After he offers to take a pic of me with my camera, I decide it's time. I bail. Luckily he doesn't follow.

But WEIRD right?????????

The city sights

OK, so I've been already three days at my new Couchsurfing host's house so there is a little bit to write... I will divide it into a few posts though, because I know how blind a computer screen can make you.

I caught the train into the centre - and I mean the centre, R's place is SMACK BANG in the action - and after some waylaid directions, I finally found the right address, albeit with sweat coating all my clothes and my mind about to explode with frustration. R sorted me with my bedroom and then we headed down to an outdoor cafe to watch the football. We met his friends there then they invited us to their place to watch the second game, which was nice - more cheese and bread for me (yay!), and a lovable chien, a rare white boxer. Was really interesting looking but drooled worse than that glob from Ghostbusters. I almost fell asleep after a few consecutive 'not common' cigarettes (as my former Couchsurfers called them) but revived myself enuf to head to R's friend's house for a big Greek dinner!

Oh, the food at this place! Ai ai ai!! It was really funny, there were about five nationalities at the table, all speaking mixtures of Portuguese and English, while I just shoveled food into my mouth. Especially when the talk turned into an intellectual/political debate. And I'm OUT.

Next day I allowed myself a big sleep-in and rolled into action at a leisurely pace, just strolling around the city which I hadn't really done yet. Found the big park R and his partner L had suggested (they say they're the most beautiful in Portugal) and found a rocky outcrop with an incredible view of the city to lie on. Then along comes this sweet-looking old man - and I'm talkin' mid-70s easily here - who says something in Portuguese, I tell him I don't speak Portuguese so he just smiles and leans over and kisses my forehead... weird?? Read my next post to see just how weird he got...........

The hottest girl I've met in Portugal

And of course she was dating the singer in the band! Just LOVED her get-up :) Almost good enuf to distract u from my hideous suburnt face

Leaving the house of love

I write this as I go through the final stages of packing (again, urrrghhh) to head to another Couchsurfing friend's house right in the centre of town in Porto. Although I am sad to be leaving these guys, I don't want to out-stay my welcome and they've been so generous and kind to me so far, I don't want to spoil it! What a great first Couchsurfing experience!!

Last night T, T, new couchsurfer M and I went to a club in a terrace house (god help the neighbours) which played Latino upstairs and indie rock downstairs - of course, though, we didn't leave the house til about 1am. It's so different to London!! As you can imagine, I vacillated between the two levels and got my groove on amongst the dredded masses. Yes, I was home. But strangely, I just can't seem to grasp the whole Latino dancing thing - I think the more I concentrate on it, the shitter I am. I will get it one day. Maybe in Brazil I'll meet a gorgeous Brazilian boy who will teach me all the steps. And then we'll leave the bedroom haha... kidding. Or not.

Anyway, that club combined with the rockabilly/rock n roll guys from the previous night made me like Porto even more and ensured I was dancin' up a STORM when I could! I also met the hottest Portuguese girl I've ever seen at the front of the rockabilly show, of course she was dating the singer and of course I looked like death warmed up, having not even put on make-up to go out. Ahh, such is life. I got a photo with her, actually I'll upload it now!

Horse + South Africa + travel = AWESOMETASTIC!!!

So I am very excited right now because as I've been relaxing in T's front room all day surfing the net, I've come across some beautiful locations and opportunities to volunteer my horseriding experience around the world. Although it changes every other day - and depending on availability at said host properties - I am now thinking I could work on a Romanian Lipizzaner horse stud for a few months before it starts to cool off then head to South Africa to assist on horse safaris through the natural park. Can you IMAGINE what it would be like to live that life for a while??? Get up, ready the horses, jump on, ride through wild landscapes and catch a glimpse of a rhino or lion on occasion.... wow is all I can say, wow. UPDATE: Always read the fine print - they charge 995 euros A MONTH for this amazing experience. What a crock!!! You work your ass off and they still pocket almost a thousand euros. Grr grr grrrrrrr.

Then there's next year... I'm thinking of going to South America for February as it's Carnivale season, then I'm told by my new Brazilian friend they start to look for people to hire doing things like teaching English. So, if all goes well, I could be living in South America for 6 months or something, just absorbing the culture, the people and the energy of the place. So many opportunities abound!!! I must remember to bookmark this blog to come back to in my moments of doubt about my gypsy adventure.

Fingers crossed, please get back to me!!!

Last night at T's house, then I'm off to meet another Couchsurfing contact, R, to stay with him for a couple of nights. Then flying to Madrid, then straight to Budapest for my bday and pre-Exit festival exploring :) :) :)

Junkie-esque nosebleeds, impromptu dance-offs... I guess nothing changes

I sit, as I type, looking out to the balcony of my newfound friends in Porto, people I met through the Couchsurfing website who have opened their doors and hearts to become my new best buddies, just out of the goodness of their souls.

Last night I arrived in Porto after an almost 8 hour bus ride from Lagos (not so bad, had the whole backseat to myself on the first leg and a front row seat on the second). After asking multiple people the direction of the metro and getting a multitude of answers, I found a man who spoke a little English and gave me not only good directions, but a spare travel card to load up at the station (giving me half price travel, like a Oyster) and a metro map. Sweetheart!

Got to the station near my hosts' house and they picked me up - the driver of the car was a cutie but as I got to find out later that evening, he was quite sweet on the good looking flatmate so I was out. Oh well.

As soon as I arrived, they escorted me to the balcony and said 'help yourself to drinks and food'. I knew I was in for a good night. As more people arrived, the music kicked up a notch and i somehow found myself Youtube DJing Australian music to give them a taste of good quality ;) - cue Blue King Brown etc... We ate traditional Portuguese food and it was gooooood. They said we were going into town but at about 1:30am I thought, well that idea is shot. Not to be, however, as just before 2 they said 'vamosh' (or something) and we were out the door. It being the celebration of Porto's patron saint, Joao, the metro was open all hours and we jumped on to head into town.

An impromptu dance-off with T in the street and several more beers later, I found myself dancing to a Cut Copy tune (of all music to play!!) and watching people dressed as giant sardines on a balcony. Fun times. A guy called for me in the crowd and I stopped to talk to him with M-S, but when he realised I didn't speak Port he just spoke in his language directly at me. I blinked blankly at him before my friend said something vicious to him in Port and whisked me away. She tells me he said 'I want to have sex with you all night at my house'. Ha!

We decide to call it a night (or a morning) about 5:30 and once home, I go to the bathroom to discover I am experiencing the most hectic nosebleed of my LIFE. God knows why that happened. So with everyone running around trying to help and me just wanting to pass out (from drunkenness, not loss of blood, although...), I eventually got a mattress sorted and bam. End of evening. Dry, blood-soaked tissues are certainly not your ideal bedfellows in the morning. *shudder*

So I was the last to rise, of course, and we decide to go to the beach so T and T drove me and Sarah, a pretty, lovely French girl also couchsurfing. Just when I think I have a tan, these Port people show me up. Every time. I swear to god. I am just going to give up.

So that's it for the moment. We're having a big BBQ cook-up and then who knows what will happen - I would normally say that's it for the night because it's midnight but these people keep some crazy hours!

Stop-off on my scooter adventure by an old fort

The view from (almost) the most westerly point in Europe

When the scooter hire man says pack warm, LISTEN to him

Woke today by alarm to ready myself for this trip to some wavey beaches around the coast from Lagos, with my new Aussie friend from the hostel and a guy who works at the hostel. Unsurprisingly, the guy never turned up so me and C were forced to take action on Plan B and hire a scooter to travel around the place. We could've taken the bus but this way was funner and not much more expensive!
So we trekked around trying to find a bike hire place that didn't close for siesta and eventually got the goods. I was relegated the back seat seeing as the bike was a little more powerful (usually u need a bike licence but C owns one in Australia and telling the scooter man this seemed to suffice any rules he previously didn't want to break. Before we left, he said 'you want to take something warm, it will get cold later on' to which we both shrugged and said 'we'll b fine'. Big mistake.
Traveling to the beaches we chose the scenic route and saw some beautiful views, including quite a few really nice beaches, some old fortress ruins and a really pretty sunset. C kept laughing as we stopped and he'd turn around to hear me chomping on some of my bread and brie I'd stocked up on before we headed out. Good shit that was. So so tasty.
But, as the day wore on we started getting a liiiiiittle cool as the wind picked up. Some roads we just sat in silence as the wind stripped tears from our eyes through our sunglasses and the gales tickled the tyres from the gravel. This was serious scooter time. C was getting really cold cos he was at the front and so once we got to Sagres (where I drank a Sagres beer, just for the sheer cheesiness of it) he couldn't even entertain the idea of going to the lighthouse, the most westerly point of Europe.
So we headed to Castelejo to see this sunset the scooter man suggested. Wind was still high so we stayed for a couple of mins on the lookout before retreating lower to the restaurant and less wind. A quick bite and lay on the early evening sand, a nice sunset (though not the best I've seen) and we were OUTTA THERE. Hometime. We wrapped ourselves up in our towels, longed to be able to use our sunglasses at night to protect ourselves from getting bug face, and ventured to the cliff-hugging road back to Lagos.
Stopped in to get some petrol, by which time I was in a fit of giggles from how stupid we looked and how cold we were, and it took all my strength to get on and hold tight to C to try and warm him with body heat. Funnily enuf, we got back in 1/3 of a the time it took to get there and it couldn't have been quicker. My toes were frozen from being so exposed to the night air and every muscle ached from holding tight.
Now I'm waiting for C to come knockin' to try this 8 euro set menu from across the rd. If the restaurant is still open by the time we go! yum yum for my tum tum

Off to find some waves...

Believe it or not, I actually suffered what could be perceived as symptoms of a hangover yesterday after my mammoth drinking sesh the previous night. So much so, my attempts to ward it off by laying on the beach only exacerbated the situation to the pt I was driving back to my hostel room to try and sleep it off. Not a good thing to be scared of the sun in a place like Lagos.
Anyway I met another Aussie (surprise surprise) at my hostel who I then ran into while talking to some (more Aussie) flyer girls out the front of the clubs. We went to a cool jazz bar called Stevie Ray's, not full like the other places but playing much better music, much nicer looking and with good quality alcohol - none of this 3 euro cocktail bulllshit. Not that that doesn't have it's upsides. But drinking walnute Frangelico with crushed lime does lure one into a false sense of social superiority don't it.
Drunk (but hot, but so drunk) aussie girl fails in her attempt to get us back into her skanky bar and we head back to the hostel at a very reasonable hour. Am glad because I didn't want to push it and feel like crap again when I'm meant to be exploring!
Just waiting for my new friend (also a chef, how many bloody chefs do I want to meet over here??) to come knock on my door and tell me the guy from the hostel is here to take him surfing. Apparently there's waves around the coast a short drive from here. But knowing the Portuguese, his version of 10:30am will surely be around midday. Then I plan on hitting Sagres, the town named after the local beer (or is it the other way around???), the most westerly point of Europe. Fun times!

Officially back on the trashbag wagon

So now I'm on my own, ie no friends or family to curb my behaviour, it was just one night before my shenanigans kicked in. I'm having drinks with a Couchsurfing contact (English guy living in Lagos as a diving instructor) and we run into the bogan Aussie group I mentioned yesterday. God KNOWS why, but I introduced myself to Tattoo boy. Well, I know why - a) alcohol, b) tattoos, c) man. But anyway, he seems interested but more interested in playing darts. I say fuck it. Then remember he's Australian. Won't be touching me for eternity.
Actually it happened with another guy but he was Brazilian. Maybe I was just hideous last night. OR, more to the point, maybe they're just useless.
So there you go. Woke up this morning with my light still on, sleeping on top of my covers under a towel (and not a large towel) and with my laptop still safely hidden under my pillow - the pillow I was sleeping on. Yes, I am officially back on the trashbag wagon.

Praia do camilo beach in Lagos

This place is crawling with Aussies, I'm never getting laid...

My last night in Lisbon was another trip to Bairro, but this time it was me that was tired not A. Luckily, however, his friend arrived with a hot Norwegian and I was sold. Distraction supplied, triedness warded off. That reminds me, I gotta email her to see if she's keen to come to Porto with me. Work it baby.
Anyway, so I managed to once again keep myself awake until after 3am when I needed to get up by 7am to get my bloody bus to Lagos but luckily I wasn't very drunk and the sun woke me up naturally (much better than an alarm) so I don't feel so bad. Had a micro-snooze in the bus as well so it's OK. I'm a battler anyway.
Got to Lagos and it's GORGEOUS! Not a massive town, but that's what I expected. What I didn't expect, however, was the first backpacker I spoke to to tell me that the place is full of Aussies and that the nightlife is crazy. Hmmm. Here I was thinking I'd have a few days rest before my big Porto adventure. Oh well, roll with the punches I say. Shame about the Aussie factor, though - I seriously thought I might have a chance at picking up here *sad, pouty but slightly sultry face*
Walked into town with my hectic bag situation (must do something about that) looking for this hostel I found online that was the cheapest - wandering around the centre of town aimlessly I resolved to myself to just get a room at the first hostel I saw, then lo and behold, my hostel is right in front of me! How's my luck eh!
So they tell me its 20 euros when I know its 12.50 online, so they meet me halfway and I accept. The staff are lovely, wireless free and my room is private with a double bed and best of all (for potential holiday skankiness), it's entry by key only after 11pm ie no one checking who comes in with an extra person. Hey, I gotta keep my hopes up.
I'm told the best places to check out locally and then head to the beach... it is BEAUTIFUL here. And that's just the talent on the beach. haha no seriously it is gorgeous. I'll upload a photo soon. The water is so calm the lifeguards are playing boche in the sand. I had a couple of beers, people-watched for a while (focusing particular attn on a group of aussies who I vasillated between thinking were cool and ultra annoying and one of which helped me discover a new zoom setting to my camera only to realise he was a bit bogan - let's c if i bump into them tonight) then retired to get ready to meet a new Couchsurfing contact. He doesn't have a pic - this could mean he's dog ugly or just lazy - so I don't know who I'm looking for but at least it gives me a good starting pt to go out.
Speaking of, I must run - duty calls!

Beautiful one day, perfect the next... cya Gold Coast, hello Lisbon!

Although it was really nice weather yesterday, there was a little cloud (how dare they) so our efforts at the beach were quashed somewhat. Also the fact sand was blowing into every crevice put me off sunbaking slightly.

So we retreated to T's place and I had a litre of Super Bock beer to get in the mood, then we headed out to Bairro (which I still can't properly pronounce). It was a relatively tame night, considering the bday boy got tired and called it a night earlier than expected but it's all good, there's always tonight. That area is quite cool on a weekend, lots of bars catering for whatever lifestyle you so choose to indulge in. A's brother and his partner said they'd take me to some cool places Sat night so hopefully we'll see the other side of it.

Waiting now for A's brother to arrive and take us to another 'great Portuguese place' (these people are so generous!!) so I'm just canvassing Couchsurfing for some potential places to crash in Lagos (bit late but I'll give it a go!), Porto (pretty much sorted though) and Budapest. Awwwww right :)

Defense in my #1 priority

--

My calf muscles, how they ache...

Woke up today with aching calf muscles. Not entirely surprising, considering how much A and I TREKKED yesterday in Sintra. It's just 45 mins away on the train but a totally different vibe to downtown Lisbon. Apparently it's been home to wandering arty types for years but more recently become a respite for rich European folk who want a weekend getaway, so in a way it's like Brighton (in England). Really cool vibe but lots of tourists!
A said I had to check out the palace so we embarked on what we later discovered was a 'bite off more than you can chew' walk up to the gates. What A remembered as a short trip up the hill turned out to be a HECTIC mission up and up and up til we almost gave up (lucky we had Chips Ahoy and patisserie treats to keep us motivated during our rest breaks) - but alas, we finally made it and it was worth the sore muscles. The palace was gorgeous, not sure the exact type of architecture but the view from the top was incredible. I'll post a pic on here soon.
Next stop was Quinta da Regaleira, a 17th century (I think) estate that is known throughout the region as old headquarters of the Masons. This would probably be the explanation for the secret tunnels and passageways littered throughout the property - oh, and the 'initiation well' and various other ceremonial aspects. Which, by the way, the brochure explains as things used to connect people with heaven and hell, and get closer to the gods. Hmmm. I'm going with Masonic. A and I ventured into some of the underground tunnels but as most were not lit at all and we didn't have torches, I had to use my Blackberry camera to get momentary flashes of vision so we didn't break out legs on stairs or potholes. It was friggin hilarious, A clutching my back in fear and me almost pissing my pants in laughter (but also a bit of fear). Shame the pics didn't come out on my camera though...
Figuring we'd run around like children exploring just a little too long and we didn't have time for the beach, we headed to A's dad's place and got driven back to town for dinner with the family. Cuteness! They talked mostly in Portuguese so I drifted off in my own thoughts, mainly creating fantasies about some of the hot wait staff (A tells me they were mostly Brazilian - I'm booking my ticket there asap haha). Yummy Mexican food and full belly later I headed home, watched Kick-Ass with the boys and headed to bed.
Now, calf muscles aching, I'm trying to organise my next bit of Portugal travel. Must run to the agency now!!

The first specks of proper tan

After checking out the Bairro Alto district - where all the cool kids hang apparently (dunno y i wasn't instantly magnetised there then) - with T, my host for this week, and trying the local cocktail Morangoska (yummmm), I got home at a reasonable hour and prepared for beach times the next day.

Today (ie the next day), we battled strikes on the metro to finally get to the beach and plonked ourselves like bacon to the pan under the midday sun. I'm feeling a little tenderised now but I feel it will turn to tan, nay I HOPE it will turn to tan and not just peel off as it's so often known to do on my body.

I've now watched 2 games of the World Cup (portugal v ivory coast and brazil v n korea) so I'm all footballed out and itching to go into town for some drinks (and no, it's not just the sunburn that itches, I drank the house out of beer - eeeeek).

Ciao for now!

The land of the smooth... and cheap

Sweet! Today I managed to find not only a beautician in downtown Lisbon, but one that was good and cheap! Despite the fact no one spoke English and I was forced to get my male friend to awkwardly translate 'yes she wants it ALL off', the service was great and it was only 12 euros with the good gum wax yaaaaaaaaay - try and beat THAT, london!

But anyway, now that I've reached the borders of Too Much Information land, I will bid you adieu. Probably check in with you in about 2 hours haha

Sun, sun, glorious Lisbon sun!

After a micro sleep about as comfortable as a massage with my hessian sack hair, I begrudgingly dragged myself out of bed, avoided looking directly at my bloodshot eyes in the mirror and readied for my plane to Lisbon. Having also avoided a teary farewell from dad and my brother – due mainly to lack of sleep rather than emotion – I created an inspiring concoction of a small ball of hash (kindly donated by a random lady at the pub in Sarlat) washed down with a Relentless energy drink shot. Well I didn't want to just throw it out did I? Hmmm… my poor body has been confused for quite a few hours.

Regardless, I scored a semi-nap on the plane, perked up a little when I heard the weather was going to be 30 degrees, and again avoided my eyes in the airport toilets before I hoisted my behemoth of a backpack onto my back. After some amazing investigative skill (since he didn’t answer my 20 stalker phonecalls to him), I have now navigated my way to the suburban house my Porto friend is staying at and am waiting for him to reach the land of the living via the shower, and then into town to drop my bags, find a bloody beautician and sort myself out!

Later that day...

I'm now in the place I'm staying with A (his cousin's) and it's got wireless so I guess you'll be seeing many more updates from me while I'm in Lisbon - are u EXCITED YET?

We're gonna have sardines at his brother's place tonight, apparently that's the delicacy here around this time of year... But since the big patron saint party was last nite, I expect everyone to be a little sorry for themselves and won't kick on too late. Whatever, I'm easy. No jokes there thanks.

We're heading somewhere beautiful tomorrow apparently, so I can't wait for that. I'm just gonna follow A around while he's tour guide for me, it's brilliant - I can't speak a lick of Portuguese (except thanks and excuse me) so I feel I won't be quite the rip-off target I may've been by myself. I'll leave that for all the other places I'm going afterwards haha

The last remnants of family fun times in France :(

June 9, 2010
Daddy’s bday! He doesn’t like to admit it but he’s 59 this year. Almost 60. So I wrote a poem about it. It’s called ‘The Year Before 6-0’. He loved it. But let’s start from the beginning. As usual, I was the last to wake and we were on the road before long, heading to another medieval town with pretty buildings and churches etc.

Eating on the run, we soon found ourselves having to axe some of our planned trip to get back in time to get ready for dad’s bday dinner. How time flies when you’re on holiday! So we got back to the house, I rushed to my loft room to finish the poem and we headed to the Lois (??) star restaurant in a random little town a short while away.

The dinner was excellent, the service impeccable, my present rocked (a number plate that said ‘Super Papa’ – WICKED), nothing could be faulted… Best ever.

June 10-12
More Chateau visiting, patisserie stalking and stupid fart jokes from the backseat crew. Bit tired now to write all about it but trust me it was fun and good times - esp the last nite where us kids (including a last minute visitor in the form of my sister's old school mate for the nite) went 'out on the town', that meaning finding a pub and having some drinks. Some drinks turned into a fair few, and we even broke out the 3 litre beer jug. Don't even ask. HEEEEEAVVVVYYY.

So I have to sleep now. Getting up in 3 hrs to get a flight to portugal. Seriously, when do i EVER get a flight that's not a ridiculously early hour of the morning where I'm operating on NO SLEEP the nite before... Shiezer.

The last few days in gorgeous Sarlat...

June 5, 2010
It was another day of Chateau admiring today, with the morning starting out at Azay le Rideau where we saw more scarcely furnished rooms adorned with ancient tapestries and big, beautiful wooden chests. Oh, and portraits of the royals, their wives and their mistresses – though sometimes it was hard to tell which was which.
Next stop was Villandre where we chose to skip the Chateau admiring and head straight to the gorgeous gardens, renowned as some of the most beautiful in the world. Having sufficiently appeased our aesthetic palettes – simultaneously satisfying my own palette with green olives and chav (goats cheese) on olive bread – we moved on to the task of driving several boring hours to the house we hired in Sarlat. Finally got there, the place is cute, has a swimming pool (swiftly in use due to searing heat) and some friendly ewes that a slight case of the black lung. I'm thinking the back paddock = last legs. Oh dear.
With my glitter polish all but chipped off my nails and a week-long forecast of happy family time, I knew my London party days were over. At least for now. Upon arrival, this realization was met equally with sadness as with a sense of somewhat relief, given the pounding I had treated my liver to over the past two weeks, let alone the last two years. Saying that, dad has just returned with a case of beer and several bottles of wine so I may possibly be jumping the detox gun…

June 6, 2010∫¨
Today we explored the town of Sarlat, the closest kind of civilisation to where we’re staying at the cottage, and considering it has the most listed buildings in all of Europe, we weren’t disappointed. Gorgeous, aging structures made of stone and timber… I could go on an age but alas, the patisserie calls. But not before an incredible meal of fois grais (could’ve done without that, TBH, it’s a liiiiiittle freaky eating something I’m so morally against – seriously, do some research on that shit) and duck breast mm mmmmm.
Grabbed a few pamphlets of horseriding in the area and moved on to Domme where we ate with an AMAZING view of regional France… how’s the serenity. Pretty bloody good. Tomorrow I will wake up and ride to Sarlat on the bikes to find the internet, since today (Sunday) the town virtually closed. Welcome to the millennium what???

June 7, 2010
Woke up with no interest AT ALL in biking to town. Turns out after my brother and sister’s boyfriend’s hectic 3-hour lost mission from town the day before they’d abandoned the bikes as well and were back from a morning run. Screw that.
After much faffin’ about, we finally made way to La Cevis (?) where we were due to go horseriding – but having gotten there way too early we took advantage of seeing the prehistoric museum with Cromagnan and Neatherthal man artifacts in them. Yay! Old stuf, I luv it.
Horseride was super fun, I managed to wrangle myself the leopard appaloosa which for those of you who don’t know is the one that looks like a Dalmatian or a snow leopard. Cool horse, a liiiiiittle bit lazy. Which served me well when some hounds that were part of a filming situation got loose and terrorised my sister’s horse at the back of the pack and it went flying, losing my sister in the process. Bit embarrassing. But all was good and now, after a lovely home-cooked meal from sis, I’m relaxing with bro watching badly dubbed French TV, slugging back lots of beer and praying for decent weather tomorrow…
Oh and I quizzed the guy at the horse place about working there over summer and he said it was possible - organic farm hand and staying in a treehouse with the possibility of riding his gorgeous horses in my spare time? Hell yeah!

June 8 - TODAY!
Must be quick but the weather is SHIIIIITE today so who knows what we'll be up to. Logged in for the first time in a few days, was itching a bit but now the reason I was itching hasn't actually surfaced and I'm still left waiting for USELESS people back in London. Argh, can't trust anyone but myself dammit. I'm going to soak my sorrows in a rich pomme tarte, or something of the like. Mmmm....... what was I annoyed about again??

I swear I'm the family alcoholic...

So after some more sightseeing, passing out of tiredness (it just won't leave me) in the car and reuniting with the brother I haven't seen in over a year, I am in bed. At a reasonable hour. Before 1am that is.
Today we met up about midday and drove some time to a place we could have lunch. Being super hungry I opted for eating hard n fast, with some grande beers to wash it down.
We then went to a beautiful fantasy type castle which me and bro didn't go into because we went looking for the horse show which wasn't running that day - awesome. Anyway got to stroll around in the sun and have a sleep in the shade while we waited for the others... I craved for another beer.
Then we drove some other village with another castle and settled into our accommodation. While I ached for a beer, we sauntered around the village looking for a way to see some lights on the castle. Turns out it's not July yet so that doesn't happen. Cunt. Excuse my french. See that, see how I did that - hilarious.
We had dinner, I finally got some beer and wine, then after managed to get my siblings to drink some more with me. Knowing I have to get up at some ungodly hour, 8:30 or something, I retired earlier than normal (plus I had a weird girl looking about 16 feeling my hair and checking out my piercings and talking in french to me when i CLEARLY said NON PARLE FRANCAIS - is it my accent??). Anyway, long story (longer than necessary really) short I am in bed. And I'm out. Long day tomorrow methinks. My bro has already passed out. And he was the closest to a party animal I had. Useless. The lot of them.

Sex museums, modeling propositions, crazy lesbian bar maids... it could only be Pigalle!

This is just going to be a quickie (no pun intended) but I just got back from my first trip to the apparently seedy Pigalle area. Now I'm not saying the streets are paved with gold here but in comparison to Sydney's 'seedy' area, Kings Cross, it was quite mild I thought!
My sister, her ranga boyfriend and I were planning on heading to Moulin Rouge but having not booked ahead, we faced a completely sold out show and opted instead for an erotica museum. Fun times. While we were there, there seemed to be some people with large media cameras and some free drinks floating around, then we realised the world's most flexible woman was in the house promoting a new exhibition of her bendy pics. One of the photographers took a fancy to me strangely and told me he was doing an exhibition on tattoos and alternative looking people so gave me his card and said to get in touch. No harm in at least talking to the guy - if it comes through, I'll just have to come back to Paris with one of my mates as my 'agent' (ie protector) and voila, another trip to Paris!! Yay!
After that we went to a cute little out of the way bar where this crazy lesbian bar maid talked our ears off in French while we nodded politely and served us 'amazing'/actually very average rose wine. Super.
Alright, that's it, I must sleep.... x

Currently listening to: 1920s burlesque jazz

Bonjour! Comment allez-vous aujourd'hui mes beautés?
I am swell. I had a sleep in today, much needed, and together with the glorious sunshine outside my window, it totally rejuvenated me for today's adventures. First off, I thought I'd check out the famous La Fayatte shopping district which - I found out once I got there - is no place for a white rasta girl with broken, worn cowboy boots, hardly any make-up and a dress which was probably in fashion about 8 years ago, if at all. So, feeling slightly out of place and sufficiently out of pocket for the wares on display at the multi-level mall, I swiftly exited and headed for Luxembourg.
After waiting in the sun and checking out some supreme Parisian hotties - but disappointingly getting picked up by possibly the ugliest boy on the street, bless him - I met my stepmother and lunched. Again, pasta called and I answered. Mmm mmmm...
After they left, I sunned myself in the beautiful Luxembourg park and meandered my way back to my tiny loft room in the hotel (seriously, I'm being kept with the spare trundle beds) and now I'm almost late for meeting my sister and her boyfriend for the Moulin Rouge!
I'm so excited, I've even prepped myself with some shuffle action on my burlesque playlist on Spotify. But alas, I must run and attempt to make myself look presentable to this ultra chic city... xx

Parisian pasta for the rasta

Having dragged my sorry ass to the Eurostar this morning and promptly passing out for the entire trip (considering I was facing backwards the whole time it was pretty much a given if Sir Hock-A-Lot didn't want vomit all over his stomach at some point), I jumped off the train with my hectic baggage to look at the Garde Du Nord sign and think FUCK I'M IN NOT IN LONDON ANYMORE. This is when the weariness tagg-teamed with reality and I lost my shit. Started blubbering right there on the platform. Ta dahhhh!! And she's human.
Saw my dad waiting for me at the platform and practically fell into his arms. Not a good look. 'Hey dad, remember me? I'm your daughter, just way less sane and pretty much an emotional wreck.' Yeah, good to c u too dad. No, to be fair, he took my heaviest bag and we walked to the metro to my hotel, and as I proceeded to fade surely and steadily - using any pause in motion or nearby railing to try to sleep - he got the picture and let me sleep in his hotel room while mine was getting ready. I was out. Goneskies. It took all my strength to get up again and explore a little more.
So we went to the Arc de Triumph and up the top, with the gorgeous view, I had another cry. Hardcore I am. But hell, I can't help it, I MISS LONDON ALREADY. I'm useless.
Now, after filling our guts with an amazing meal of pasta and piniot grigio, I am well n truly ready to turn the lights out. Tomorrow is Moulin Rouge with my sister and her boyfriend - who we ran into at the Arc - so here's to dreams of scantily clad women and strategically placed feathers.... xx

Shattered... but we must soldier on innit

So I'm up and at 'em after about 2 hours sleep/restful shuffling around the couch, and I'm bustling about (obviously not that much given I'm actually blogging) trying to ready myself for Mr Cab Driver at 6am. Shudder.
I failed to mention in my last blog that my first stop will be Paris on the Eurostar, where I'll be meeting almost all my family - I can't wait. It will be so lovely seeing them again, some of them I haven't seen since visiting Oz last April so bring that shit on. It also will be the time I get to chillax poolside at the gorgeous house we've rented in the south, a place I'd like to say I will detox at but considering the close proximity of vineyards, it will more likely be a retox kinda situation. And family catchups... well, they're really infamous for that kind of thing aren't they. OK, I'm just making excuses. I am an alcoholic. There, I said it.
Can I go now? Please?

Now for Sophie deLightful's gypsy adventure... watch out world!

So I'm now sitting at my soon-to-be former house trying to organise the final 'things to do before relocating countries' bits n pieces and I'm not sad yet... no, I'm about to throw myself to the unsuspecting masses of the world and fully embrace my inner gypsy, and I'm not one bit tearful, scared or shaky. I don't know what I'm going to do, how I'm going to survive or just how long I am going to be able to sustain myself but I instead am strangely confident, excited and - well, let's be honest, BATTERED still from the weekend - so this will be an interesting ride on the Eurostar.
So that's it. I'm out. Finished. Done. London, you've been amazing, I've been even better. But don't think this is the last you'll hear of me....... And if any of you fkers try to steal my random adventure stories, I'm coming for you. Cos this is the original, shizzle right here. Right now.
White Rasta Woman will take over the world. Peace out.