We escaped reality and chased the dream.

Well, after three days in Athens and five days on the island of Santorini, I will be the first to admit I am burnt to a crisp, should never attempted to tan in a bikini on a black sand beach ever again and I do hope I remember this lesson next time I am offended at being called ‘pasty’.

Athens was awesome (apart from our hostel!) We explored all the cliché stuff – Parthenon, acropolis, temples, theatres, original Olympic Stadium, Temple of Zeus, and Hadrian’s Arch. All of them were just spectacular. Interesting they chose to do up the Olympic stadium by reflooring it with what looked like black rubber (similar to a kid’s playground). They obviously weren’t going for the ‘traditional’ and ‘original’ look. While it was hugely touristy, they are obviously the main attraction of the city. They were equally spectacular and I can now tick them off the Bucket List! We also trekked to the top of Lykavittos Hill for the best view of the city – we were not disappointed. From the top was a beautiful 360 view of endless white rooves dotted with historical buildings and the odd patch of greenery. It really did take my breath away. I didn’t realise the city was so big. Do not worry, we took lots of photos! There were guards, similar to those outside Buck Palace, out the front of the Greek House of Parliament. Like in London, they also had a change of the guard ceremony. We managed to find time our busy schedule to check it out and it was bizarre. It took about ten minutes for two guards to be officially replaced. Between lots of stalking like birds, reminding me of a Chinese man about to take a karate kick, scuffing of shoes, what looked like yoga poses and the occasional bumping together feet, they were inspected for both uniform and weaponry by a military officer. 

Our hostel in Athens was 8 euro a night and we got what we paid for... a dark, musty, cold room down an alleyway where we had to pay 50c for a luke warm shower and a huge 4 euro for use of the washing machine! A guy not too much older than us managed it, and while he tried to be friendly and crack a few jokes, this mainly resulted in him insulting the three of us and numerous periods of awkward silence.

Anyway, we then caught an eight-hour ferry to the island of Santorini. Being a musical fan, I expected to be exactly like the set of Mamma Mia! Initially I was disappointed, as there was no sign of beaches or weddings or donkeys or people bursting through window shutters in song. However, it didn’t take me long to find the Donkey Station nestled among the hundreds of white houses built into the cliff face! Just around the corner from there was one of the dozens of little blue domed chapels. There were even lots of girls in pretty white dresses. The sun was shining, I was on a Greek island with my friends and the showers were free and toasty warm - I was in heaven.

The next day it rained – hahaha! That did not dampen our holiday spirit though and we booked a boat trip out to the volcanic island called Nea Kameni and the hot springs on Palea Kameni. Something that did dampen my spirits a wee bit was the half hour trek down the cliff face to get to the dock. (Travelling on a budget was a bit lame sometimes – we were forced to turn down the 5-euro donkey ride!) We finally got to the island and had an extremely blustery 3km, one hour self guided walk across a non-volcano looking island covered in loose gravel, which turned out to be unique volcanic rock. This fun fact did not cheer up Emily in the slightest. The only thing keeping us going was the thought of the hot springs! As we approached Palea Kameni, the engine stopped and the anchor dropped… this was about 70m off shore. Our guide explained to us that if we wanted to swim in the hot springs, they were perfectly safe, but it was 10m deep so she advised us not to swim if we were tired or suffered from a heart condition. I was slightly confused. Then, the penny dropped. We had to jump into the Aegean Sea and swim ashore to the hot springs because there was nowhere for the boat to tie up. The lovely lady told us the water was about 15 degrees – think Lake Wakatipu in summer. Being the only Kiwis on board and not about to destroy the hardy reputation of the nation, we took the plunge with the motto “You only gap once!” As I was about to jump off the boat, the guide told me I had to start swimming as soon as I hit the water. When I questioned this, she just smiled and said I would find out for myself. I was quick to start swimming once in the water, and a few colourful words had slipped out, as we didn’t want to be at risk of hypothermia!! The hot springs weren’t even hot and I nearly drowned on the swim back to the boat (like the Asian couple who required life rings) – but hey, I have swam in the Aegean Sea among the Greek islands which is more can be said for the twenty people on the boat who still haven’t!

The next day was a stunningly sunny day. We thought we’d hit up the beach via the traditional Greek village of Pyrgos. It was super cute, but very similar to a labyrinth – everything was white and blue with the buildings all being separated by little alleyways. This was living proof that the donkeys and scooters weren’t just for show. There was one pack-donkey tied to a house heavily laden with goods. He was only up to my elbow in height, but had the roundest tummy I had ever seen. Being good tourists, we all had a photo taken with the little mite! It was time to venture on to the beach, so went up to the bus stop, thinking it wouldn’t be long. Sure enough it wasn’t long before a bus came up the road. As it approached, it became evident that he was not slowing down to pick us up. Another went past and did the same thing, so we moved to a different stop. This happened again, but this time the driver made a doubling back signal… only he didn’t come back. A third went past and had no idea what we wanted so did about a twelve point turn at the end of the road to come back and ask where we wanted to go. It was such a hassle, especially with the constant glares, once-overs and horn tooting from male passers-by. It was worth it though – the beach was lush… beautiful black sand surrounded by huge white cliffs and turquoise water lapping onto the shore. Hello Lobster Steph!! Luckily for me, mine was not immediately obvious – unlike poor Jem. She had turned a lovely shade of beetroot as we waited for the bus to take us back to our hostel. As we waited, I serenaded her to the tune of ‘Hey There, Delilah’ … “Hey there Jemima, what’s it like it sunburn city? I’m a whole six feet away but I can still feel the heat from your thighs… And also your tum.”  It was very witty on my behalf. Even Jem laughed through the pain. 

The holiday would not have been nearly as delightful without our hostel manager on Santorini. Mrs Poppy took extremely good care of the three of us. She always making sure we were organised for transport, taking us herself if she could. She would ask us to sit and wait for the bus inside while she “had something to off you.” This normally turned out to be homemade slice or a plate of noodles – the most decent food we had. On departure she called our hostel in Athens to tell them our ferry was running late before she sent us on our way with a bottle of Santorini red wine in our wee hands. Seriously, if anyone is thinking of going to Santorini, give Villa Manos a look. She even made our beds for us!

We spent a lot of time eating, drinking, shopping and chilling. It was the perfect ay to spend a week off work, but I am looking forward to going back. Routine and variation in diet will do me good. Seriously, there is only so much nutella on bread that a girl can eat!!

The best things: chicken pita and a beer for 4 euro, Mrs Poppy, the sun and being able to wear shorts and Yogolicious.

Things to remember: budget more strictly, no that skirt is not necessary and do not forget your camera.

Things I found odd: the only black people I saw were men and they were only ever trying to fob off shitty quality fakes of hand bags and glasses, no single storied buildings, most tourists were Asian or American, there was a guy with a ferret on a leash and everyone was a European doppelganger… Fergus Scott and Jono Gale included.

Things to avoid next time: booking a hostel for six rather than three and paying 2x the price, 10hr stopovers on both the to and from journeys, sitting next to couples on the plane who enjoy to canoodle and sunburn!!

Rome is next on the last – I have never been so excited to see my parents in my life!!

We cycled around the capital of Croatia

 

The most recommended way to explore Zagreb is by bike, with the Blue Bike Tour Company, so we took to the streets with our guide Leia and our bicycles. We began in front of the art museum and biked toward the City Theatre. It had been a long time since I was last on a bike and the initial few metres were particularly unstable, but it didn’t take long until I was racing through the streets of Zagreb, ringing my bell and swerving out of the way of pedestrians. 

 The first stop was the city theatre in Tito Square. This is the only sign of Tito left, as all other reminders of him were destroyed during the war or the after party as Croatians celebrated their new found independence from Yugoslavia and the rule of the Serbs. Across the road from the square was a large building, built in the early 1900’s as a hospital. Unfortunately, the building never actually a hospital (you will soon note this is the way of Croatia), and its central purpose was actually a tobacco factory for about 20 years before it became a university building, and remains that today.

The main square in Zagreb is called Ban Jelačić. It is here that the statue of Josip Jelačić on his horse, sword in hand, was erected in 1866 Austrian authorities, despite protests from Zagreb councilmen. It was oriented towards the north, with his sword raised against Hungary, to commemorate his battle against Hungary in the Hungarian Revolution of 1848. However, this greatly offended the Hungarians, and when nationals came to visit, the people of Zagreb were forced to cover the statue with an oddly shaped large wooden box, which would then be removed again when the nationals left. To prevent the Hungarians destroying the statue, it was taken down one night in 1947, by locals and hidden. It was not for nearly sixty years that the statue was located and re-erected. This time in the middle of the square, as to avoid offending anyone!

During  WWII, Zagreb opened its doors to the Germans, as it was safer to be with rather than against. To prove this, the locals of the city blew up their own Jewish Synagogue… interesting way of making an alliance.  What was a Synagogue is now a carpark, merely with a small plaque to commemorate the loss. Further to the Zagreb influence in WWII, Cardinal Stepinac, (pride of the city, mentioned in the last post), was also known to have blessed the concentration camps. Some would argue this act to be condoning the treatment and eminent death of millions of Jews, therefore making Stepinac a Nazi… Oh and  on the topic of Croatian Catholics, those beautiful big chandeliers in their Cathedral were actually donated by an American who fell in love with a Croatian girl, they were initially from a Las Vegas casino!

Up near the Cathedral was the Croata tie shop, the only place to get ‘genuine neck ties’ as Croatia is the birthplace. From the red croat tied around the neck of lovers going off to war to the now minimum priced $120 ties sold in the shop. Sam made his purchase, as he felt he just had to have one and it was a lovely blue tie with a floral pattern. Leia explained to us that the Turkish ‘Who Wants to be a Millionaire?’ million lira question was “In which country was the neck tie invented?” The owner of Croata was looked on as the Turk lost his million. In order to display commiserations and have a bit of fun , the owner sent the Turk the most expensive tie in the shop.

The Blue Bike website advertised a highlight being the visit to the Bloody Bridge. Now, we being Kiwis who take everything literally, we kept our eyes out for a bridge, forgetting it would have existed hundreds of years ago. Leia stopped us in street and explained that hundreds of years ago, water used to flow down from the mountains, through the city, dividing the two main communities, St Francis’ and St Catherine’s. The two parishes refused to intrude on the other’s territory, so all meetings would take place on the bridge. Many arguments and fights took place. Today, there is no water flowing through the city and what was the bloody bridge is now merely a street.  Similarly, when the water through the city was dried up, the plan was put forward to turn what was a sculpture park. The park is now ‘complete’ with merely two sculptures, as they ran out of money.

Across the ‘Bloody Bridge’ and up one of two hills in the city, we came across one of the entrances into the walled community of the Church. In 1709 there was a huge fire, destroying all of the eastern part of the city. The only thing to remain was a portrait of Mary holding baby Jesus. This painting is now displayed in the passage through the wall, surrounded by gifts of flowers and sweets given to Mary from affectionate visitors. The passage is more like a big cave, with pews in the opposing corner from Mary. For the locals of Zagreb, this place is more sacred than the Cathedral, this is where they come to worship. To make their gratitude toward Mary tangible, the entire interior of the cave is covered in plaques, inscribed with such phrases as “Havala Majko!” meaning “Thank you, mother!” The religious influence is Croatia is huge and unavoidable.

We then cycled up to the parliamentary part of the city. On our way, Leia explained there were orange poles placed across the footpath in order to deter people from the paths being used… seemed a bit backwards as people were forced to walk on the roads. However, it all made sense. As soon as she stopped telling me the snow pulls the tiles down with it, a tile fell from the roof of the town hall and smashed on the footpath below. Had I, or anyone else, been walking down the path, they would have been knocked out for sure. 

Throughout the city, most of the buildings tend to be grey, expect for the odd yellow one. There was a princess of the Hungarian/Serbian monarchy who would often visit the city and loved the colour yellow. So, to please her, the council decided to paint the most important buildings sunshine yellow – theatres, galleries etc.  There are also many little statues or objects donated to the city by the locals of Zagreb. For example, one park in particular has a weather station from a local scientist, a band rotunda fro a musician and a fountain from an architect. It is very much the people’s park, with old men going for their Sunday morning stroll, rugged up in their big coats and hats. 

Last but not least was the Museum of Broken Relationships, a museum designed to give people closure to the ended relationships. Many people from all over the world send it various items with stories to accompany them. The most memorable was a story told by an elderly woman.

She had met a soldier in WWII, through her friend’s older brother. She wrote to him, hoping he was safe and coping with his duties, but he did not remember her. In reply, she sent him a photo of herself. This was good enough for the soldier, as he sent photos of himself to her. As their letters continued, a bond grew between them (even if it was just a fantasy). The lady’s family hosted the soldier one weekend, at the end of which he gave her a coin to remember him by and keep her safe. He went back to his duty, leaving his love.

She never heard from him again, neither did anyone else. Where he went or what happened to him was never know. It was presumed he had been killed in battle.  Years later and the lady was set to marry a new man, whom she had been with for about six years. But, after all this time, she still had the coin. In fact, even today, in her old age, she still has the coin… it was melted down and made into her wedding ring.

She has never forgotten the soldier, or the bond between them.

We escaped winter and headed for Croatia

 Croatia - 16-24 February, Half-term Break

 A week in Croatia is far too much to upload at once, so it will be posted in installments as I get it written.

The night before we left for Croatia was Emily’s 18^th Birthday Party. With Martin Ray invited, it was bound to get a bit loose! Em donned the perfect party outfit – tiara, feather boa, shot glass necklace, party shirt with 18 tasks to complete and a new dress. It was a fun night with Sam and Emma bringing the party them. While we drank from bottles and ate the cake with spoons, we managed to keep it classy with our choice of music being Queen and Abba. Topped off with a midnight swim, I am not sure Em could have asked for anything more. 

From a night best reflected by “Help, I am wearing a table” to a morning greeted by “Where the f*** are you ladies off to with your suitcases at 5am?” (asked in a beautiful Irish accent), we were on track. With little sleep, none for the less fortunate, and an hour until the tube opened, we set off for a hangover breakfast the only way it has ever been known – McDonalds. This proved a mission as we quickly learned that, in London, 24/7 did not actually mean ‘open at all hours’. 

 However, we were soon on our way to Heathrow with hashbrown in our bellies and sleep on the mind. Jem used this opportunity wisely and found a very comfortable sleeping position, never mind the poor guy sitting next to her! At Heathrow, our over-tired, drunken/hungover minds and flipped to excitement mode, resulting in absolute silliness captured by racing on the travellators and the decision to make our week into a musical with a song for every occasion. On the confirmation of the three of us actually having seats on flight BA 246 to Zagreb, we let out a woop of glee. We were going to Croatia! With six weeks of snow and grey skies, we were so looking forward to relaxing and exploring a new country in the sun – a real chance to thaw out and refresh. 

 Now – I must point out that Jem booked this tripped upon googling ‘Croatia’ and getting millions of photos of beaches, bikinis and hot bathing bods. While little Jemmy slept on our flight, the expression on Sam’s face when he realised the ‘low cloud’ below was in fact snow was unforgettable. Out winter escape was to be fulfilled with more winter. All we could do was laugh and look on the bright side – at least our accommodation was going to be cheap.

Zagreb airport greeted us with a bus, upon which we eagerly put on every layer of clothing close to hand. My first impressions of Croatia triggered an idea that perhaps the country may have been better off as a Republic of Yugoslavia. It is dull, cold and old with a lack of modern perspective or a direction forward. While on one side of the River Sava is a state of the art, ultra modern art gallery, complete with interior slides and constructed of futuristic metal, on the other side are the grey war-abandoned buildings covered in graffiti. 

Ban Jelačić Square

Our navigation skills were quickly put to test as we set out to find our hostel. After getting off at the correct tram stop, we took to the streets, following a very vague map. A few wrong turns, retraced steps and differing opinions later and we burst through a door reading “Funk Lounge.” With huge smiles of relief, we lugged our bags inside before a quick round of high-5’s. The staff returned this glee with blank expressions, as we claimed to have reserved a room… it was the bar! With slight amusement, they directed us two doors down in the hostel and through another door reading “Funk Lounge.” To add to the awkwardness, two young guys (also staying at the hostel) were outside having a smoke and were fortunate enough to witness the confusion. They were highly amused as they reassured us we had the right door, the second time around. 

Traditional jewellery, hand made in Dubrovnik

We had a brief explore around the city and central square, gaining our bearings and a true sense of Croatia. We often found ourselves surrounded by permanent stalls selling food, souvenirs and other hand crafted goods from knitting to jewellery to wine. One man was selling hand crafted traditional Dubrovnik jewellery, some of which was made of coins used in the 1800’s. I bought a ring and a pendant, which was the Medal of St Blaise, the protector of Dubrovnik. Jem was particularly drawn to the crepe shop and the Cookie Factory, which, little be known to us, was located on “Pub St” – night life central. 

The Zagreb Cathedral on Kaptol

The Cathedral on the hill also caught our eye with its two steeples towering above the city – however one was under scaffold as the forever eroding limestone is constantly being face-lifted. Inside the Cathedral were beautiful chandeliers, sculptures and paintings, both old and new. There were even stars painted on the roof. At the front of the church was the tomb and wax statue of Cardinal Stepin, the pride of Croatian Catholicism for his hardships and martyrdom. With it getting dark, we headed back to the hostel for a quick rest before going out in search of some food and maybe even some nightlife! ‘Nek minnut’ – it is 2am and I woke up fully clothed to the streetlight shining in the open window.

I was a Hare!

  Today was the Swanbourne Chase, a nation known, inter-school cross-country race for junior and senior Prep school students. Each year, they ask a couple of staff members to be the ‘Hare’ who leads the runners around the course. 2013 was our turn. Jem, Patrick, Sam and I sported out best bright clothing and braved the cold, leading the 310 runners around the school grounds.  

 

When initially asked if I was a runner, my reply was “Ah… I like sport.” This resulted in my name being crossed off the list of possible hares. Much to my disgust, Grahame, our head of sport, spotted me bounding down the driveway after games one day, decided my running technique was good enough and put me down anyway. For the next week, all Swanbourne pupils continually informed me how fast all the competitors were and how embarrassing it would be if I were to be ‘caught’. This resulted in extreme worry and lack in self-confidence from Jem and I. We were not amused.

Yesterday, Patrick showed me the section of the course I would be running. It was hardly anything, about 200m down a hill and half way around the bottom field. However, over night, this small distance quadrupled in size (in my head), to the extent where I was sure I would be over-taken by all the children and be doomed for the rest of the year – not cool.

Race day came – class as normal, apart from every staff member asking if I had started to warm up yet. One fluoro hat and fluoro singlet later and we were taking the course. Fortunately, I quickly realised what I had imagined to be a small marathon, was purely just a wee downhill sprint and a rugby field. But, nothing could have prepared me for the pace of the leading junior boy. All out on his own, he came around the corner and by the time I swapped to hare role to Sam, what had been a 50m head start and become about 10 paces. It was very exciting to see Kitty up front leading with two boys; she won the junior girls section!

After the racing, we were rounded up and thrown into the hall to serve afternoon tea to the swarms of parents who had come to watch. Normally we have to dress formally and have our hair neatly tied back to serve tea. However, the circumstances force this standard to be altered slightly, with Jem and I serving in our running outfits and sporting awful hat hair.

It was all worth it in the end though as we got a shout out from the Headmaster in his official thank you speech – oh to be a hare!

I actually made the most of my half day

This Monday, I thought I'd mix things up. Instead of lying on the couch on my afternoon off watching movies I didn't really like, eating chocolate and being cold, I thought I would go on a wee adventure!

I was dropped off in Winslow, about 2 miles from Swanbourne, by myself with vague directions on how to get back to the school, my phone and my credit card... little did I know how much I would enjoy my afternoon. 

I found a wee boutique dedicated to fascinators, hats and bedazzled shoes. The lady who owned the shop (slight fruit loop) had great delight in explaining every detail of the shop – she made wedding dresses, cards and really cute girly jewellery… needless to say I did not buy anything! Her dog made sure I did not loiter without spending.

The local charity shop had the most spectacular collection of Dan Brown and Patricia Cornwall novels (immediately making me think of my parents), maybe even some Tom Clancy actually. I chose a book titled Half of a Yellow Sun and walked out of the shop with it hot in my hand, only one pound short in the pocket. There was also a huge stack of DVDs which could come in handy for the shack later in the year, when we have watched everything on offer.

There was another shop similar, but you could hardly move once inside. It was absolutely chocker with knick-knacks. From nail polish and doorstops, to jewellery stands and massive art deco mirror, this gift shop had everything and I will be sure to return closer to birthday season.

The Emporium opened its door to me and presented itself as a sweet shop, similar to the British Lolly shop in Queenstown, except I am in fact in Britain. It turned out to be a gorgeous wee teashop, owned by a lovely lady. There were lots of unique soups on offer such as celery, ale, carrot and parsnip, (not all together). I sat down alone at a table for four, right in front of a roaring fire. A cute pot of tea arrived and I was left with my book in peace. No one was crying out for Miss Taylor, or whining about being cold or hungry, or not being able to sleep. It was bliss!! I’m not sure how long I sat there for, devouring my new book page by page, with every page, becoming more engrossed. I only lost my focus when I had finished my pot of tea, much to my disappointment. The lovely lady did offer another pot without charge, but on seeing the time and remembering the walk that was ahead of me, I thought I best be on my way.

I couldn’t help but being lured into the delicatessen on my way out of Winslow though. It caught my eye with its huge array of European wines… I mean cheeses? It was really cool, but stocked with the most peculiar things. I knew I was out of my depth, so paid 39p for some almond and mandarin biscotti and got on my way with Coldplay accompanying me.
I began on the road, leaping into the bushes whenever a vehicle came. Thankfully this was not very often! I was quite happy walking through the farmland, in the sun, with my music. I had a vague idea where I was going and knew there was a short cut signposted somewhere, which lead across the fields. I wasn’t exactly sure where the signpost was, so kept to the roads. That was until I met a lady walking her dog on the road who had just popped out from a lane leading out of the paddocks. She helped me out and said if I follow the lane across three paddocks, went right onto the main lane and then right at the road, I would get to Swanbourne. Or did she say left at the road? Either way, I went right and explored my way across numerous fields, not a man, animal or vehicle in sight. While I had no idea where I was going and realised there was actually no one to ask if I was in fact lost, I did not worry… I merely laughed to myself. Who could get lost walking home from Winslow? I spotted the water tower in the distance, and headed for there thinking it was in Swanbourne. On approach I remembered it was in Murseley, not Swanbourne. That was OK. I knew Murseley wasn’t too far from school. At this point I had been walking alone through the fields for about an hour and a half and was starting to miss talking (I may have been singing to myself though, it seemed a wasted opportunity not to!) I gave Mike and Liz a call while I strolled through Murseley, just to have some reassurance I wasn’t actually lost. The next sign post told me I was 2.5 miles form Swanbourne. Considering I was only initially 2 miles from Swanbourne and had been waking ‘to’ Swanbourne for nearly two hours, I had to laugh at myself.

The level of amusement was increased as I realised it was 5pm and I was getting closer to school. This meant that everyone who drove past me was most likely one of my pupils, who would most definitely recognize me in my fluoro green ski jacket.

I made it back to the Shack, where Jem greeted me with “Have you only just got back?” Yes Jem, I had got lost and had a fabulous adventure – but you know what, an adventure is exactly what I needed!

The Gaps Hit London

Travelling to London while hung-over and extremely tired is not advisable. Fortunately, I learnt this lesson from what I have seen, not from personal experience. We made it to London, a bit later than usual but in one piece, regardless of Emily greeting us that morning with “No, go away. I’m not going to London, just go without me.”

Oxford St was a bustling city centre full of energy and purpose. It is home to the biggest Topshop I have ever seen (I tried on 12 items, fortunately I was locked out of my credit card at the time), a huge number of shops, black taxis and red buses, as well as many pastry shops. We then explored Notting Hill and Kensington Park. While it was dark, it was still very pretty and lots of fun. We befriended a couple of roller-bladers who needed help untangling their safety vest. This resulted in a rather weird conversation around roller-blading and us both being offered to join them for an 8 mile stroll the next day, skates provided and all.  Jem and I managed to find a cute wee English pub before heading back to Shepherd’s Bush to celebrate Australia Day. 

Australia Day celebrations were in full flight at Belushi’s bar (below our hostel) and we were eager to join but soon realised our lack of colour. A quick trip to Poundland saw the purchase of some green and gold nail polish, insulation tape and a fluoro yellow hat. We were set for the night. Out at Harrow, where Tim Rowe is based, we had a look around the school and their accommodation, nothing on the Gap Shack of course. We went down to the local pub, before a very interesting journey back to Shepherd’s Bush due to the Tube being closed after midnight. We got there in the end though and to have Billy and Nathan waiting for us was awesome.

Jack the Ripper's Local Pub

Sunday plans changed about, but resulted in us taking a walking tour around Eastern London with an Irish man named Thomas. It was really good, as he was so passionate about the area and its culture. We met him at a statue dedicated to the children involved in the Kindertransport before WWII. It was a really nice statue of kids with their suitcases and teddies. There was a German lady looking at the statue and it turned out she was one of the children who came here during the Kindertransport. She had never known her brother or sister and she had never been back. Strangely enough she did still have a German accent though. It really put it into perspective for us! We ventured through Eastern London - along Keira Knightley’s street, to a mass burial ground, Spitalfield's Market etc. While it used to be the poor end of town occupied predominantly by Jews, it is now known for its culture and food and occupied predominately by Bangladeshi and hipsters. There are so many curry shops and the queue for the Beigel shop was half way down the street. The Brick Lane Mosque is the only building in the UK to have been a church, a synagogue and a mosque, following the change in communities. We also stopped outside Jack the Ripper’s local pub as it was believed he picked up two of his victims there. It was the first time I had actually been told the story about Jack the Ripper – it took me by great surprise. While he was never caught, there a plenty of theories to who it was, most likely a Jewish man whose name escapes me – he was identified as the murderer unofficially, but once the accuser knew he was Jewish, he would not repeat the accusation in court for not wanting to bad name the whole Jewish community of London.  There was a lot of street art and it was market day on Brick Lane, so there were heaps of people about. It was really cool to experience a new part of the city. We then found ourselves in Central London, walking in font of Big Ben and parliament, across the Westminster Bridge to Southbank. Southbank hasn’t changed since I was there four years ago. The street acts are still just as hyped up and there are a lot of weird people about, but I am sure it is something that cannot be experiences quite the same anywhere else. 

Next time I am in London I hope to see some more of the Markets. Jem and I really want to find the house with the blue door in Notting Hill too. I can definitely see myself living there one day!

I had free time

Free time here at Swanbourne is what I would call minimal. Between eating, sleeping and watching the odd film, I often find ways to avoid having alone time - such as playing games with the boarders or watching football with the Manchester United supporters I work with.

I am two weeks in and absolutely loving everything I am doing. I spend my mornings between classes of 7-10 year olds, assisting in PE, Maths, French and English. The most challenging part is trying to teach a seven year old Spanish kid, Ramon, English. In the afternoons, we focus on games. Every day the seniors (9-13 year olds) have games. They practise either netball, hockey, lacrosse or football. We also have a very nice swimming pool, but it would appear they enjoy to embrace the elements. I have night time boarding duties on Thursdays (boys) and Fridays (girls), and day time duty at school every weekday except Monday, which is my half day. We all have one half day a week in order to compensate working Saturday morning. On Saturdays, all the pupils, except the trannies (transitionals, they are about 7 years old) come into school for four classes in the morning before matches in the afternoons. It is only at this time that I am in the office answering phones and doing the registers.

My duties will change after half term in February though and I will move on to Matronal duties, then to Office. But no doubt you will all hear about that!

So far the snow has prevented any matches being played to I can't say whether we are any good or not. The school takes the sport very seriously though, and with a cricket tour to Barbados, football tour to Spain and netball tour to Holland, I can see why they kids might want to be in the top teams.

We have had snow on the ground here for just over a week. The first three days were awesome. We made snowmen, had huge snowball fights and took the kyaks from the pool out onto the back field to race down the hill. However, a week is a bit much. I haven't worn real shoes for nearly ten days - the pink gumboots are my mains. When I am on duty, I have resorted to having a hot water bottle inside my jacket. I never leave the Shack without hat, gloves and a scarf. Who knew I was a hat person!?

I miss the sun and hugging my mum and being able to drive when I wanted to go somewhere. I miss my bed, being able to sleep in shorts and a t-shirt and it being light until 10pm. But I love it over here and am really enjoying every aspect of my work.

We are off to London this weekend to celebrate Australia Day with the other gappies and do some touristy stuff, wish us luck!! :)