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!