Canadian Dan and Aussie Amy

Nick

Masala Zone at Earl's Court - The Bear's Birthday

The Notting Hill Festival and Stuff

Yesterday (and today) is the Notting Hill Festival, one of the two biggest festivals in the world. I don't really know what the big fuss is all about. But then, as I've probably written heaps of times, I don't really like crowds, and crowds are what it's all about. One million were expected today. It also rained, so I'm glad I went yesterday. A whole big group of us from the hostel went - that's the great thing about the hostel - there's always someone to do something with. But after half an hour they started off on a pub crawl. One guy (from my room) crawled into bed at six thirty this morning after a really big day out. I have been studying in the room, trying not to disturb him for the day. But I don't think he's that easily woken when he's hungover, because the other morning his cellphone went off at about two in the morning. Three times. It was his alarm. The other room mate thought it was hers, and got up to have a shower in some kind of daze. She was a bit annoyed to get back into our room half an hour later ready for work at about half past two in the morning! I began to think maybe it was mine, because nobody seemed to be turning the bloody thing off, and my phone has been playing strange tricks on me, changing the time and possibly the ring tone. But eventually, when I was wide awake, I sat up in bed and saw a small square of light coming from underneath Matty, and he was so out to it that even when I shook his leg he didn't wake up, so I had to sort of crawl over and grab it from underneath him in order to turn it off. He told me a story today that when he was in a hostel in Amsterdam he had his month's pay stolen from his back pocket when he was lying on his stomach. Not surprised. I think perhaps he should lay off the herbs.

My course starts on the fourth, and I have a stack of reading to do before then. I was accepted on the proviso that I move out of the hostel, because apparently I'll be working on assignments until two in the morning, and I need to be able to do it in peace. Well, that's not really an option for me - not financially wise. So I have been accepted, but warned a number of times that I'm not in a good environment... I had no trouble finding the place - the A to Z that was lent to me had pages falling out everywhere, which was very convenient as I could place the relevant pages together to form one bigger map. It turns out it's a nice forty minutes through a very nice, leafy part of London. Of course, that's going to be another hour out of my day when the course starts, but it's far preferable to catching the tube. Anyhow, the test I had to sit was fine, except that he then gave me an oral interview in which he tested me on every little thing that I might possibly be expected to know... "Okay, so if this is the past perfect, then what's this sentence, and if this is the progressive, is this similar or different, and how do you know?" His way of asking me was really confusing, and it was kind of like "Guess what's in the teacher's head" interview technique. I hadn't done that stuff since first year university, and he didn't really expect me to know it. But he certainly tested me on everything I know, so although the written bit was easy for me, he kind of tailored the rest. It must have made himself feel good that I couldn't remember the names of auxiliary verbs. I stopped myself before I said, "Aren't you supposed to be teaching me this stuff??"

At the weekend I went back to Lewisham to order new glasses and make an appointment for a lens checkup. While I was there I knocked on the door and got the new flatmate (Darren's friend). He'd only moved in an hour ago, which was good timing on my part. He very kindly helped me retrieve all my stuff from the ceiling, which involved getting a huge ladder from around the back. Then he gave me a lift back to the central city, so I was really grateful. It would have been at least two train rides otherwise. Unfortunately, I now realise that I haven't got quite all of my crap, including work clothes (bugger!) and will have to go through the rigmorole of the ladder again when I can catch either of them at home. Still, I did well considering I only had Dave's bike light to look around with. I knew I should have taken my torch... you never know when you're going to need a torch. Or a pocketknife. But generally you can rest assured it'll be when you don't have them! Anyhow, I now have the small problem of finding a place at the hostel to put all my shit. There's the attic, but I haven't yet bothered shifting it all up there. It really is pretty freaky getting up there, especially as people hang their ironed clothes up on the ladder, and you're looking down the stairwell which is five stories up. (It's called the summit.)

Fortunately I haven't had any food go missing yet, but I don't think anyone would really want mine. I did find that my bag had fallen out of the fridge though, and my stuff had been shoved back in randomly and my grapes were all over the kitchen floor, which is what gave it away, but apart from that I can't complain. Yet. I have even managed to score myself my own basket on top of the shelves, which at the moment contains a strange collection of foodstuffs which in itself constitutes a strange sort of meal - anything, as long as it contains olive oil and beetroot. Must go to the supermarket after this. There's usually meat on special at six thirty. Oh and the other good thing about the hostel, is there's always a bloke around to take lids off stuff. Of course, I loosen them first.

Not Funny Anymore.

The internet cafe I was in yesterday had a really grimy keyboard. I hate to think what kind of germs are on them... I tend to notice the cleanliness, or otherwise, of keyboards after having a summer job cleaning all the university keyboards one year. That job was better than it sounds actually. And I think I built up a certain immunity!!

Actually, Tomomi caught a cold too. She has been pretty miserable. We have still done the touristy London things, but she has been sick and I have been feeling pretty Londoned out, but I did make it to the British Museum for the first time. It's just like the Lonely Planet says - a collection of treasures stolen from other countries. Unfortunately the Japan section was closed for development, which is just the section Tomomi wanted to see. I think they should give the famous Japanese paintings back to the Japanes, myself.

I just got back from Heathrow. Tomomi's job starts in a couple of days, after the school holidays. We got there after an amazingly long journey catching the wrong train twice, and one of the airport staff said, Which airline are you flying? So I said, Malaysian. He sighed. Then he told us that all Malaysian flights have been cancelled until seven thirty tomorrow morning, and that all Malaysian staff had been sent home, because there's nothing they can do. I thought he was bullshiting at first, and this discussion took place over a longer period than my account does, but he had a deadpan face, so I said, Oh well, I guess we'll be back tomorrow then. But then he added, Just one more thing - I'm actually joking. I don't think the language coming out of my mouth was particularly complimentary, and it was pretty funny, but perhaps he would have thought twice about kidding with us two in particular given the last month we've had. I was completely given over to the possibility that anything can happen.

The Art of Travel

Today we went to Montserrat, a monastery in the mountains. Tama said it might be a bit cool, so take a jersey, but no way. It was over thirty degrees up there, so much hotter down here no doubt. Tama is really thin and feels the cold a bit, so she had her jersey on at one point, but I certainly didn´t need one!!

We did make it to the ´beach´, but when Tama said the beach, she was talking about a built up side-walked area in what can only be described as central Barcelona. I haven´t made it to what I would call a proper beach yet, and may not... I´m sure it will be really crowded. It´s the holiday period over here for the locals. We´re going to the beach afterwards. The others have gone for another walk to the cemetery. It´s not as morose as it sounds, but you´ve got to spend the whole time dodging cat shit. There are heaps of wild cats in Barcelona and there isn´t much dirt, so they just do it on the footpath. At first I thought there must be lots of really small dogs around, but now I´ve worked it out.

To be honest, I´m looking forward to moving onto the next thing, whatever that is. Spain is cool, but not the heat and the crowds (and the catshit). Have you read Alain de Boton´s ´The Art of Travel´? It sums up what I sometimes feel about travel - he nicely puts into words what I sometimes feel when I´m at these amazing places, such as where I was today. The Virgin Mary is supposed to have appeared there, and other people were quite overcome with emotion, but all I was thinking was, What am I supposed to feel?

A Whole Lotta Spanish Sky

Funicular de la Santa Cova

Monteserrat

Above the Harbour

Me and Tama

Windy Day

In Catalan you live at night and sleep during the day (if at all)

The Travel Hijinx Continue

Well, Spain is still raining, which I´ve decided suits me fine, because it´s only a drizzle really, and it means the temperature is a nice twenty five or so degrees.

We have pretty much done the main touristy things that you can do in Barcelona, I think. Eaten tapas, drunk beer, walked around the markets, etc. Last night we had the ultimate Spanish experience, I think. We got up around midday, as seems usual here (I can´t sleep until then - read a book instead), then went out and didn´t get back until about two in the morning. We met Tamachan´s boyfriend and his mate, who never has any money, in town and went on what I suppose is a pub crawl (hashigo nomi in Japanese - ladder drinking). I made the decision early on that I wasn´t going to drink much and I am so glad about that, because Tomomi is well trashed this morning. She is only 45 kilos and so it doesn´t take much, and she drunk at every place we went to... Afterwards we walked around the streets pushing our way through crowds of people who were having a good time drinking and smoking, with the streets decorated due to the gracia fiesta that is on at the moment. We ended up at a Japanese pub where Tama´s boyfriend works and left them there. We missed the last train and were fortunate enough to be able to hail a taxi, but the blokes walked home and I think they just got back at sunrise. As I type, Pollo (don´t know his real name) is flat out on the sofa next to me. Tomomi has just got up and doesn´t look too good. Pollo means chicken in Spanish, and he hasn´t had a job in three years, so he´s free, like a bird... I´m not sure that having no money is any indication of freedom!! He kind of goes from house to house with no fixed abode.

Speaking of money, I was down to spare change yesterday and went to draw money out at Sagrada Familia when the machine didn´t take my card. I tried putting it in again, and it went in at a funny angle and kind of fell down into the machine. I could still see about two millimetres of it and tried to grab it, but then it went kerplunk, never to be seen again. I was slightly incredulous. How can a card possibly ´fall into´a cash machine when you´re just trying to put it in the slot?! By that time it was after closing time at the bank, and noone around to get it out, so I have now made a call to England and cancelled it. It will take a week or two before I get the new one, so for about an hour or so afterwards, I was feeling a bit pissed off. Fortunately I have a card with access to a NZ account. I would be really stuck if I didn´t have that but I´m not sure how much is left in the account, especially when it comes to Euros... The machines don´t give me a balance. Hmmm.

So yeah, the travel hijinx continue. Nothing has been stolen off me yet though (I think), and I´m not sick or anything, so for that I´m grateful! I´ve had an ATM eat my card before. I was about 18 and didn´t realise that it ate your card if you put the wrong PIN in three times. I wasn´t paying much attention. But the bank was open, I was five minutes walk from my house, and was in an English speaking country. It shouldn´t be too much problem this time, as I´ve now cancelled it and a new one will be sent to my flatmates´ house. I just need to catch them when they´re there! Anyway, I remembered my password for the other cash card, and have since checked my balance online. We (hopefully) arrive back in London at Heathrow, not Gatwick or even more expensive, Stansted, and I have ten pounds in my wallet, so that should get me to a bank to draw some cash out. But it´s amazing how reliant you become on a card. Especially when the bank isn´t open long hours, and there´s always an amazingly long queue in England.

Speaking of queues, I may have mentioned it already, but the Spanish and the Italians don´t queue. It´s all for one and one for all over here. Whenever I´m in a public toilet, the cubicles will be full and someone will come out... I´ll start to make a move and then someone else will dash in from some oblique angle even though I was there first. Same with buying stuff. I don´t think it´s in their culture at all. The English, on the other hand, are renowned for queueing. As annoying as queueing is, I prefer that system! Spain is not for the timid. It´s weird, but it feels like it´s a country of teachers. A really typical teacher personality is someone who is exuberantly friendly, but also bossy, and who flares up at stuff - nothing is ever their fault. I´m not saying all teachers are like that, and nor are all Spanish, but it certainly seems like it.

I wouldn´t really like to live in Barcelona. I don´t know about the rest of the country - I imagine it is really beautiful in some parts, but this, unfortunately, is another big city. I really am not a big city person, and last night when everyone else seemed to be gravitating towards the most crowded street in the city, I just wanted to get away from it. One of the bars we went too, too, was so full of people that you could hardly get in, and I thought, Oh my god, we´re not going to try and get in here, are we?´ But we did. All the touristy places are jam packed as well, of course. I wonder sometimes if there´s something wrong with me, not enjoying being pushed from all angles, and having people bumping into me - everyone else seems to crave it. Perhaps it´s just that you never see those people who don´t like it because they simply don´t go? Maybe they´re out in the country!

Yip, we are in Japan aren't we?

A Crowded Tapas Bar - I Don't Do Crowds Well.

The Festival

Do I Look Better in ANYONE else's photo of me on the statue thingy?

Okupa y Resiste

An Arty Tilted Shot...?

Bodega La Riera

More blogs about piffle drivel fluff.

Butcher in Barcelona

This is Barcelona but it feels like Japan.

Barcelona Fruit and Vege Market

Do the Pigeons speak Catalan?

Tapas

More blogs about piffle drivel fluff.

Must have been a funny photo

Building in Barcelona that the locals think is ugly

Barcelona

Well yes, I thought the airport experience sucked big time, but honestly that was nothing compared to the experience of taking an overnight bus to Paris, being made to wait eight hours and then doing the final leg to what the driver thinks is Barcelona but isn´t, together with a whole lot of dodgy looking pickpockety type people who look as if they´re taking the overnight bus to dodge customs.

The good news is that we are here in Barcelona, staying at my friend´s friend´s flat, and yesterday after going for a ´siesta´, I ended up sleeping right through the night and waking up at eight this morning. So after not sleeping for a full day and a bit, my bus-lag (is that´s what it´s called?) at least is over, and I have had a shower... much better. I have a vague recollection of being woken up and told that the others were going out, but honestly, they said it was really hard to wake me. I guess I´m lucky that I can sleep through anything. Bit of a worry if something bad happens though!! Hostel hijinx don´t wake me either, and from your experience, I´m glad. Tomomi was sleeping right below me but she only got half an hour´s sleep the night before we left London because some bastard was smoking below us the whole night and smoke was wafting right into our window. Also, two German girls came in really late, flung the light on full bore and violently went about brushing their teeth and so on. Apparently. I was asleep. So the next morning when my alarm went off really loud, and then the next one went off, because my phone alarm is so dodgy (oh that´s the other thing that´s pissing me off - broken phone) and I had already gone to the toilet so the Germans weren´t too happy when I came back in. Fortunately for me, they probably won´t be there when we get back, but after hearing Tomomi´s description of their foray into the room past midnight, me waking them up at five thirty the next morning didn´t seem so cruel, perhaps one could call it karma.

Oh yeah, another longish story but then the London train station was shut due to the new late openings on Sundays, so we had to take a taxi to the bus station with an American on her way to Kansas, not surprisingly a bit grumpy about it, and then we were told to wait ages in Paris due to refugees trying to get in there illegally. And I thought I´d had enough of travel before!! It turned out to be bullshit about the refugees, I reckon, because we were told in Paris that the London office had made a mistake with out ticket...

It´s raining and thunder would you believe, for we have made it to Spain during the only rainy patch of the whole season, but it´s off to the beach. Everything else is closed due to it being a national holiday...

Terrorists and Glasses and Hastings

I should be in Spain right now, but no, we were on the one in six flights that were cancelled. This, two days after missing a flight outta Dublin... honestly, now I can say that I have done everything possible in an airport... Well, I hope so!! I don't know whether the flight will be refunded, because it was cancelled due to 'terrorists'.

The airport was so crowded that once in, you couldn't move, and it took about an hour to get to the check in desk, by which time it was all about sitting on the floor until they announced that our flight had been cancelled. After that, leaving was another mission, and Tomomi and I got separated at one point, for about half an hour. That wasn't at all pleasant. We found each other, and decided on a meeting place in case it should happen again. We eventually made it to the bus check in counter and managed to secure a seat to Barcelona, but that is really going to be a mission tomorrow. It takes a whole day and night to get there, with a change in the middle of the night in Paris. I'm wondering if they're going to let us take hand luggage on that - we've bought sufficient reading material, but we won't be able to read it on the plane back. Perhaps they'll even prohibit it on the bus. I don't know.

I'm in Hastings now. Finding accommodation on the same day was a shitter, but I'm right out of London, which is what we both wanted! Hastings is right by the sea, which is nice. Then it's off to Spain (hopefully) on an overnight bus on Sunday, bright and early. The only thing is we have to go back into London to catch the bloody thing. Oh well... bring on the day when I can get out of London!

Today it's raining here. Thinking I would be in Spain, I have neither a coat nor an umbrella, hence I'm sitting in a nice warm internet cafe. Along with the rest of the expat population of Hastings, by the looks.

The other annoying thing that has happened lately is, I lost my glasses. I was told I'm not supposed to be wearing contacts so much, which is a problem in itself, but the other thing is, Warren and Darren haven't been home at all so I'm unable to pop back to Lewisham and pick up my next pair of contact lenses. (I know where I left my glasses - in the Dublin youth hostel, but the receptionists swear they haven't seen them.) Anyhow, I don't have my prescription either, so I had to find the same shop. Being bureaucratic Britain, they don't have prescriptions on a central data bank, so they had to ring up the Lewisham branch where I had the test. They were already shut by that time, after walking ages in central London in huge crowds to find it. That was only because it took so long for them to notice that I was waiting... Despite giving them my details and being told to go and sit down. So anyhow, I have sorted out the problem in Hastings - they even gave me a new pair for free, but not having corrective lenses was really annoying me. Nor do I have my Spanish dictionary or guidebook, which is at my old flat, so I had a bit of a shitty day back in London, feeling that everything was going slightly pear shaped. Hopefully from now on, things will go more smoothly! I am so sick of London crowds - the airport experience didn't help but that is one thing that makes me just want to sit on the footpath and curl up into a ball. Can't be dealing with it. Hastings is nice in that it's a lot less crowded... back to London now though. Wish me luck.

Ireland

I'm in Ireland at the moment with a Japanese friend who I hadn't seen in about six years, in Japan. The first day I was really dejected and annoyed because it was so bloody hard to communicate in Japanese, and I was very tired, and she said, I can't believe you can't remember how to speak Japanese, but after about a day I'd 'warmed up', and now I'm fine. Thank god for that!! Otherwise it would be a pretty awkward kinda trip. Well, Ireland is FANTASTIC... I kind of wish I'd applied for an Irish working visa instead of a UK one... it is so much like New Zealand, but with stone walls rather than wire fences, and the street signs are written in Gaelic, as you probably remember, but other than that it is eerily similar. Even the weather... not exactly hot. Just like my hometown. Perfect, in fact, for travelling.

The tour company stuffed up, and sent a bus from Galway which was two seats too small. It was muggins here who noticed it, and muggins who got off the bus to tell someone who cared, and muggins who ended up without a seat. So what happened is we ended up on a different bus with people halfway through a longer tour, my friend in the copilot's seat and me kinda perched on the dashboard - it was a big dashboard, like a platform with bumps in it. As it happened, apart from the inability to sleep due to having to manoevre myself everytime we turned a corner or went over a bump, I had the best view on the bus. And because we didn't complain, the tourguide arranged for us to go on a longer tour, and now it turns out we're off to Belfast for free tomorrow... At least I think so. His accent was so bloody strong I don't know what the 'fek' he was on about half the time - he could have been speaking in Gaelic for all I know. Anyhow, all's good and I have met HEAPS of Aussies, plenty from Melbourne, and all good people. Well, most of them anyhow. The ones I don't like are easy to ignore, fortunately.

So here I am in an internet cafe, which is slow as a wet week, and after several trips to the counter to ask if something's wrong with it, the guy looks well sick of me...

BARCELONA

Stray cats

Smelly drains

Warm nights

Street stalls

Indian cloth

Big jewellery

Singing in the street

Tapas bars

Cava

Long hair

Children out late

Pigeon droppings

Ferrets on leads

Chorizo

Nocturnal living

Hornado

Cortado

Terracotta

Pickpocket warnings

Dust

Thunder and lightning

Chlorinated water

Delipatated buildings

Littering locals

Que pasa

Catalan street signs

Crowded streets

First in, last served

Pushing ahead

Siestas on park benches

Old men waiting

Cockroaches

Broken escalators

Last Day of Summer School

The last group of kids leave in about an hour. Yaaay. I definitely need a break from people under the age of 20. I'm looking forward to the next month of travelling. (I just got asked for my autograph - I'd hate to be actually famous.) Mack, one of the other organisers, looks like someone out of a famous rock band who none of us have ever heard of - famous in Italy I guess - so he has had a really tough few weeks and the little kids are driving him mental.

I just had the last institutional meal for a while - I thought the food was really good and now I have a reputation for thinking everything that's shit tastes good. I never had a problem with any of the dishes, but some of the others are really fussy and some have had gastro intestinal problems. The fact that I've had no such problems says something about my own cooking, apparently.