Its been a while - want to hear about my holiday?

Hi! How have you all been? Whatcha been up too? Any exciting news to share?

I have been living a montage lately, which largely seems to defeat the point, but have a few days off in London to spend with my brother who is visiting. He is still sleeping, so I am taking the time to write a much needed blog.

Last week I headed up to Scotland for a wedding in Drumtochty Castle which is about an hour and a half outside of Aberdeen. I normally have a few mixed feelings about weddings, I am so genuinely happy for the couple, but there is an element of, I wish it was my turn. I remember my sister saying to me, that there were a few people that she was pleased to beat down the aisle, but that I was not one of them. Which is comforting. But last week, there was none of that. I guess that I was too busy in the run up to have a chance to even really think of it.

As I was uncharacteristically packing the night before, and then at midnight it occurred to me to find out what time train I would have to get to the airport and discovering that there was only enough time for two and a half hours sleep, I was excited to be heading away on a holiday. I thought to myself, life has to change, you need to slow down. When you see the bride on the day before her wedding and she says with sympathy that you seem to have been manic, you realise that its gotten out of hand. I was hardly organising a wedding far from home, I have just been working like a madwoman.

Nic & Gareth are great friends of mine, I helped them move to Reading, about an hour outside of London about 6 weeks before their wedding. We don't get to see each other often as their lives are as manic as mine. Finding time when all three of us are not working or away is an exercise in military precision. But when we do find that time, we have a ball. There are always loads of laughs and lots of drinking. They are some of the most easy going, drama free people I know. As an example, on their wedding day both of them took the time individually to tell me how lovely I looked. What sweeties. So I was more than delighted to be invited to their wedding. I think that it is a testament to them that despite having their wedding on a Wednesday, far from where most people live, that they had such a large number of loved ones around.

The wedding was fabulous – I was lucky enough to have my hair and makeup done with the bridal party, which was great as I can be quite rubbish at that and I have loads of hair. It was nice to see Nic so chilled out and relaxed on her wedding day. The day was not as hot as it has been, the weather was slightly overcast – perfect for photos, and everything went off without a hitch. The chapel where they got married was just lovely, it was on the grounds of the Castle. As we were waiting for Nic to arrive, the Vicar gave a talk about the history of the chapel and described it as a thin place, where what we know and what we don't know are very close. I loved that description and it was typically Scottish.

Nic, Nic & Gareth

When Nic arrived she looked amazing, she had a proper princess dress. Gareth looked amazing in his kilt, in fact a large number of men were wearing kilts. The wedding was lovely, with a song written and performed by Nic's brother that had us all giggling as the chorus was 'My sister has been given away to Deano'...

At the reception we partied the night away – the illusion with Scotland is that it does not get dark to really late and then dawn breaks at 3am – so as we were coming home the dawn broke. I loved the personal touches – like the bottles of whiskey and gin that were personalised for the bride & groom, like the table names – I was on a Castle table, reminiscent of our pub. A fab night was had by all, it was perfect.

Me and the huge ice cream

The next day was a bit slow. I was woken up at about 9.30am for breakfast in my fabulous B&B for salmon and scrambled eggs. I headed out to Stonehaven to have a look around. Its a beautiful seaside town about an hour from Aberdeen. I happened to meet up with some of the girls from the wedding and we had a walk around and some delicious lunch at a great fish and chip shop. As we were sitting there, struggling through our fish and chips, we began to notice the icecream shop right next door. There was a constant queue out the door and kids were coming out with icecreams bigger than them. So we decided to queue up and try for ourselves. It was worth the wait and the pigeon pooing on me for the delicious icecream, which came with marshmallows and chocolates on the top. Just what you need for a hangover.

Dunnottar Castle

I headed out to Dunnottar Castle, which is a ruin on a cliff top. There is actually still a lot in tact there. But the walk down had me thinking twice in my tired and hungover state. I decided to guts it up and do it, who knows when I would be back. The castle has in the past been visited by William Wallace and famously saved the Scottish Crown Jewels from being destroyed. It was very atmospheric and had stunning views out to see. On a good day apparently you can see whales or sharks off the coast. I was hoping to see a few whales but nothing on that day. It was a stunning day out in the sun, but I was glad to drive back to Edzell for a night of tele watching and chilling out, going to bed early to recover before a big drive the next day.

So there are the first few days of my holiday, I promise to write about the rest of them soon, in my new resolve to not fill every minute and to relax a bit more. There are probably bets being taken the world over to see how long that lasts. And rightly so, I have a reputation for burning the candle at both ends and being surprised when it burns out. So lets hope that I can make it to my next holiday in Greece!

I'm Missing You...

Wow!  What a month it’s been.  I have wanted to write a number of times, about a number of exciting things that have been happening, but to be honest I have barely had time to sleep, let alone anything else.  There are so many things that I want to tell you all and I am sure that this weekend, when I have a very quiet, sleep filled weekend that they will all come out but for now I want to talk about my pub. 

As you all know, I have been embroiled in a two years plus, saga of trying to save a chunk of bricks and mortar that mean one hell of a lot to me.  This pub is where I found a rapidly disintegrating family.  Why is it disintegrating?  Because we don’t have a hub anymore.  We are trying our best to keep up but it’s proving harder than we all thought.  Especially for me.  I have been very busy with work over the last month, which has seen me working crazy hours, attending a number of out of work time public meetings, all of which has severely impacted on my social life.  In days gone by, it would be fine.  I would show up at the pub every Friday night, tired after a hard week, to a guaranteed friendly welcome and a good time.  I would walk in the door and someone would be asking me if I wanted a single or a double vodka, or a cider and black.  Even if it was just a few drinks and a sing a long, I would see a number of my friends and catch up.  Now without this regular Friday interaction, I am finding it challenging to see them.  Not because I don’t want to, not at all, but because life has begun to move on and we are 

scattered.

So on Wednesday after a long day, I bullied myself into heading to military fitness.  To say I didn’t want to do it was an understatement.  I was hiding in the park until the last minute, so that if I decided to back out, the instructor would not have seen me.  But I did it.  The whole group was exhausted as was our instructor, we all worked hard, but our hearts were not in it.  The three of us were encouraging each other and jollying each other along.  When I was done, I was one happy, sweaty mess.  I was so damn proud of myself.  I trotted off to the bus and whilst waiting I checked out Facebook.  To be faced with this picture.

My heart sank.  I looked at it again, and felt tears gathering in my eyes.  The beginning of the end had finally arrived.  Work had begun on the pub.  The picture shows deep coring.  Which is what you do to find out if the land is suitable to be built on.  I can only hope that its not and we can have our pub back and this nightmare will be over.  I have been in a strange mood ever since.  I guess I just always thought that right would win out and we would one day have our pub back.

Looking at the photo, I am reminded of what seemed like endless summer days and nights in that garden.  The second story windows used to have a terrace and a grassed area under them, yes grass on the second floor.  In summer, on a good, proper summer day, we would climb out the window onto the terrace and sit on the grass with a bucket of ice and cider as the night descended.  Most likely after having sat in the garden in the sun for a number of hours.  Sometimes after a good sing a long with Simzy, if it was a Sunday.  We would look out over the high street and watch the locals coming and going, sometimes a few foxes too. Often we would have an iphone in a glass to amplify the sound, for music. We would chat, play drinking games, laugh and just generally chill.  And literally chill, it would often be 1am before we came in from the terrace, when it would finally be cool enough to contemplate 

sleeping. 

I look back at this time, and right now, those feel like the golden days.  Sure we all still had issues and problems, but we were together.  Most of the people that sat on that terrace are either scattered across the world or about to be scattered across the world.  Its times like this that I dearly miss Cate & Aaron.  I miss the in jokes – Aaron, please can you call me a cab?  You’re a cab! – I miss the cuddles and I miss the jam sessions that often went on till the wee small hours.  I miss the belonging that came with the 

pub.

I have not had a proper chat with my friends or family, both in London or at home for a long time, time has not been on my side.  Over the next week, I intend to reconnect, because quite frankly, I need them!  I would not be the person I am today without them.  The world is beginning to shift again and there are huge changes happening in my life, which leads to some pretty strange headspace, so bare with me peeps, its not all bad, just taking some getting used to!

Five Years is a long time

A little over 5 years ago, I left NZ to begin my adventure. I was a wide eyed girl who was not really sure what to expect, how I was going to feel and if I could really do this thing. I spent two months traveling before I settled in London and had the time of my life.  Then I crashed down to reality.  I remember crying myself to sleep on my first night in London.  Who was I kidding that I could do this?

Now I am a seasoned Londoner. I survived the dreaded first six months, and have the scars to prove it. I survived being very very ill, all by myself. Don't get me wrong, I had the support of my family and friends from afar, but here in London, at the time I felt very much alone. A friend recently told me that she thought that I was the toughest person that she knew, as after nearly a year here, she was finding it really tough, and that she could not believe that I had survived for five! But here is the thing. I had no idea how tough I was until I needed to be.

Please don't get me wrong, I love London. I love it a lot. I would not still be here if I didn't. This city gets under your skin and all of a sudden when you are knee deep in the most challenging six months of your life, you see the Albert Bridge lit up at night and pinch yourself, you are in London. All the dreaming about moving to this world class city has come true.

Sure you miss your family and friends. I have missed all of my friends pregnant. And that guts me. I have missed seeing all of their beautiful babies as babies and I miss that. But it is a blast meeting them now, a summer ago, I spent time with Keenan who became my wee shadow. I love sending them post cards and feeling like I am close to them on the other side of the world. I have been away for over half of Sam's (my nephews) life now. And I am so very sad about that. It breaks my heart that he can no longer remember when I lived in NZ. I remember crying in the airport and hugging him, and him saying that I had put wet on his face. He was so little. Now he is running triathlons and can no longer fit on my knee.

But here is the thing, I have dreamed of this all of my life. I may not have known what it would have cost me, but I have dreamed of it. Nothing compares to the feeling of seeing scenery or seeing a monument that you have studied, and to be standing there with it in arms reach. I cried tears of joy and relief at seeing the Sistene Chapel. I still get goose bumps when I see the Albert Bridge all lit up. I dread taking a trip to Heathrow as the ol' Heathrow ass injection gets me everytime. But I love this city and I love that it has taught me how strong and independent I am. I miss driving but then I get to love it when I drive a van to move a friend from city to city. I was laughing at myself today as I went head out and grabbed a scarf. I am indoctrinated English, in that I believe that even on a sunny day, you need a scarf. I am not quite so English that I take an umbrella everywhere, yet. But I am obsessed with the weather and consult the iphone app before heading out to outdoor events, what can I say, its an affliction.

So here is where it stands, I have a slightly English accent, and I speak a hell of a lot slower than I used too. I have an ever diminishing London family, and I now have friends all over the world, but I am kiwi to the core. I may not be nearby, but I skype and message with my friends often. Facebook is a great invention. I miss my homeland and its likely to be the rubbish weather that drives me, like the rain, from England back to the South Pacific, but it won't be for a few years yet. I love my homeland and I will be back one day soon, but for now, cheerio from the land of horrid weather.

Tubes - they are not attractive places

What is it with me and men on tubes? Why does this seem to be the place where I get chatted up the most? The lighting is rubbish and most often I have my nose in a book and my ipod on. I hardly look my best and I am not very attentive...

So last weekend, I was battling a medium level hangover, and had promised to meet a friend on the South Bank. I had gotten up, made myself somewhat presentable and headed to my favourite local cafe for some sustenance before braving the tube. I had a delicious round of eggs bene, a fruit smoothie, and then after I had finished feeling squeamish from that had a pot of peppermint tea and a brownie. That had a crème egg baked into it. You know that there is something wrong when I am breaking out the peppermint tea. So after reading my book in the warmth of the cafe and feeling generally sorry for myself, I realised the time and headed out to catch the tube.

I decided to take the bus from Balham to Stockwell and grab the Northern line from there. I was standing on the platform when tube pulled in. I was standing where I knew that the exit would be at Waterloo, to make for a speedy exit. As the tube pulled in, a man on the tube caught my eye. He was staring at me and looking me directly in the eye. I gulped and got on the carriage and sat down opposite him. We barely broke eye contact during that 30 seconds. So I sat down and we stared at each other. After another 30 seconds I began to feel silly, he had his earphones in too, so I opened my book and started to read, very aware of his eyes on me. The next time I looked up, he was playing a game on his phone, but caught my eye nonetheless.

The tube got stuck at Oval for a few minutes and we both listened very attentively to the announcement, and both sneaked a shy smile at each other.

At Kennington, my delicious mystery man stood up and mouthed the words, 'Have a good day' to me and started to get off the tube. I mouthed 'You as well' and treated him to my biggest smile. He motioned for me to come with him. I just waved and blew him a kiss as the tube pulled away.

I relayed this story to my friend when we met up and told her that even though this encounter was really nothing more than two strangers smiling at each other, that it made me realise that I still have it and that even feeling like rubbish, I can still be attractive. She asked why on earth I had not gotten off the carriage and spoken to this man? There are a number of reasons for this, not in the least that he could have been a serial killer. But more likely, that the illusion and the thought of him is going to be much better than the real thing. And lets not forget I was still feeling very green around the gills. I would not have wanted to start it off feeling like that. And I am actually incredibly shy when it comes to men, I would have most likely tripped off the carriage, sworn and then said something really inappropriate and then his illusion of me would have been shattered.

So its better this way, us both remembering each other as the attractive flirty people on the tube. We will never have to deal with the grumpy versions of each other, argue about what to watch on tele, or clean up after each other. One day I will not be so shy, when someone asks me out, I will, firstly realise what they mean, and secondly say yes. And then according to my latest Scottish future seer, I will fall madly in love and be happy ever after. Apparently it has to happen if I am going through all the hassle of leave to remain. Its destiny.

So man on the tube, thanks. Thanks for making me smile, thanks for making me feel attractive and thanks for being so damn hot yourself.

Sore feet, rumbly tumbly

In February, I went to the Kensington Roof Gardens to see my friend Abby Holden play. I am a huge fan of Abby and this was a real treat. She is a delightful friend, a great laugh, and a brilliant singer/songwriter. The roof gardens are a delightful venue (which I went back to for a delicious lunch a few weeks later) and quite a swanky one too. Its been a while since I have been anywhere with a dress code.  (which I was only alerted to about 15mins before I left home!  Eeeekkk some serious rethinking of outfit went on!) So dressed in skinny jeans, a sparkly top and some ridiculously high heels, with a dodgy ankle, I walked like a wounded gazelle, trying to look elegant into the venue.

I immediately met up with my friends Juddy, Pauline and Michelle. We were all looking glam and scrubbed up well. We headed to the bar, and had some ridiculously over priced drinks and caught up, whilst waiting for the venue to open. None of us had eaten, and it was after 8, but we were all very excited so it didn't matter.

I am pretty sure that Abby was first up and she played a great set. We cheered and sang along. There were calls for Ginger pubes, which Abby good naturedley played for us amidst huge cheers. We all loved her single Kiwi Boy, which rang true with all of us, Juddy and I were laughing at the description of a guy wearing jandals walking into a dairy. You can hear/buy the single here...

We watched a few other sets and then headed back to the bar area where we could still hear the music but talk a bit more. And then I spied the burgers that were being made. I was suddenly starving and realised that it was after 10pm,and that due to houseguests etc, I had eaten very little that day. So a group of us headed out to the hotplate and ordered £10 burgers. They were delicious, but I think that was more the time rather than the burgers, they were definitely not £10 worth.

As we were sitting on the ledge of a garden devouring these delicious burgers, balancing them as only the tipsy can, a group of lovely young ladies walked past us. All of them were studiously pouting and looking too cool for school. One of the guys in my group watched them go past and said to me, why is it that at gigs like this, in places like this, beautiful woman always look so miserable. I answered, because their feet hurt and they are starving. He laughed, and then watched the next group go past and shouted Oh My God, you are right. They were looking enviously at the carbs that I was ingesting, somewhat off my diet for the night, and they were ever so slightly hobbling in heels that were towering.

He then looked at me and said, but you are beautiful too and you are smiling, why are you not pouting and miserable too? Because life is too damn short to be miserable. I had a pair of flats in my bag to change into, to get on the tube home with, I was starving and could not care less at that point if it was cool to be seen eating what felt like at that moment, the worlds most delicious burger.

But this brings me rather longwindedly to the point. When it did become fashionable to look miserable? I get smouldering, but miserable? And its clear that men find the whole thing rather confusing, I have had many conversations where they find the whole going out to dinner with woman thing confusing, as they never eat. I looked back at my facebook photos, with the exception of a recent one, where I have been photographed balling my eyes out at an airport, I am sporting a massive smile. Or dancing my little heart out, or hugging someone. Surely, this has to be a better way live life than being serious/miserable* all of the time? I am sure that if I started pouting often, that my friends would certainly tell me about it. I know that there would be stern talkings too.

So my plea is this, smile people! The world needs more happiness, more silliness, more love and more hugs.

*It should be noted, that when I speak to people I would say this 'serious slash miserable', which has caused Abby on many an occasion to say 'who says slash? That is hilarious!' I do people, I do.

Long live the King & Queen

My February was pretty rubbish. It felt as though with every email or phone call, more and more awful things happened and it was just getting worse by the day. It really knocked my resolution to be happy this year. One of my friends made the comment, that February was only 28 days, because most of us could not handle much more than that.

But one of the saddest moments in this godawful month was my closest London friends leaving to move back to New Zealand. Its fair to say that everyone expected me to be a blithering wreck from the time that Cate and Aaron returned to the UK from Europe to stay with me for a week and surprisingly I proved them wrong. Part of it was denial. I could not fathom my London without these people who were to a degree the linchpins of my urban family. I still can't.

I have known Cate and Aaron for 4 years. A detour from my normal pub with my three boy flatmates, led to the pub which they ran. From the second that I saw the Harere Mai sign on the door, I knew that I was at home. From that moment on I was slowly but surely absorbed into the family. This family has grown and changed over the 4 years that I have been in it. People have moved home or changed jobs from working at the pub where it all began and others have joined our fun group.

Cate and I would catch up a couple of times a week and always on a Friday. I became a pub regular who grew to know the cast of characters in the pub like they were my own family. Which in the absence of my own family, was nice to have. We spent long weekends together, holidays such as Easter and Christmas and many a family dinner. We were there for each other through thick and thin and had loads of in jokes. Do you know your postcode? We met members of each others families and laughed when Cate's sister described me as her bosom buddy. Hehehehe. We have survived earthquakes, family weddings and tragedies. Its fair to say that I adore Cate and Aaron.

We have spent a long time fighting for their pub, which was sold by the brewery to a developer who have plans to turn it into a block of flats. Its kinda like someone ripped the heart out of our community. It was an emotional time and we gave it our all, but in the end we lost. Which meant that this Christmas was our last Christmas in the Castle. And that after 12 years in London my bestie was heading home to see her family and to start a new adventure.

I don't know that I can do ever write to do justice to the depth of friendship that we have. We share a very warped sense of humour. One that makes us laugh at the most ridiculous things. I loved the postcard that she sent me from Berlin – Hi Nic, Here is the postcard that you wanted, it is cold, we are good. Love Cate and Aaron. I laughed over it for days. When she got back, she told me that she had laughed over it for days as well.

I was touched when Aaron mentioned me in his leaving speech, we danced the night away, drank way to much and together we found out that McDonalds is open at 4am and that a taxi driver will take you through the drive through, but that even if he won't, the dining room is open. Who knew?

I held it together well, we all thought that I would have been crying since Christmas day, I managed to hold it together until the final day, I cried a bit at the last lunch and then at the airport, where I had only the smallest amount of time to say goodbye. It was hard, but I am so excited for them. Its an interesting feeling also to be the person who is being left behind when others are going on an adventure, its normally me having to get on the plane, whilst crying.

So what I want to say is, I miss my friends, I am still very grateful for the people who have been making sure that I am not lonely, even if its just a phone call to chat. I am very lucky to be a part of such an amazing life changing community. Love you all and thanks for being so amazing!

Don't think, just do

Over the past week, I have had that one line of a song stuck in my head. It has been like a mantra, but a really annoying one. I have been wracking my brains trying to figure out where it is from and why I seem so attached to it. I have had a half melody to go with it, but still no joy.

It’s more than just a song lyric. It’s a way of life. I have been accused in the past of over thinking things. What? You? No! Never! Said no one ever. We all know that I am capable of taking one sentence from a conversation and analysing it to a point where I have 10 different meanings for it. I over think everything from my love life (of which there is none), to my job, to my friendships, to the grocery list, to the gym, and so it goes on. One of my good male friends often stops me when I begin to relay an event that could lead to a love life and says – You are over thinking it again. Just chill out.

So I have been trying to chill out. Just to make it fun, when I am trying to not over think anything, it is the time when my visa is being renewed. When this is published, I will officially be an over stayer. But its ok, I have faith that it will work out. I have my MP onto it, as I type, and UK Border Agency has assured me that I am still legal to work. Hmmmm. Don’t over think Nic, just do your job and enjoy your life. 

I have been watching with great interest the media excitement over Lena Durham. I absolutely love her show Girls. It is gritty and honest and makes me cringe in parts, watching it. Because it is so real. This is a New York that could not be further away from Sex and the City. Its people like me, facing problems like me, and behaving like me. I love that Lena has written, directed and starred in this. This feels like a trip into her mind. And guess what, she over thinks things just like me. She is the new Hollywood darling and I suspect that we are going to see loads more from her. And from all accounts, she is an all round lovely girl as well. So over thinking is entertaining for those around you.

So how is it going for me? I have over thought one situation so much, that I have just about given it up. I cannot be consumed by this and my answer to hide under the duvet. I have over thought my visa situation no end, I am nearly on the brink of ordering boxes to pack up my life and move home. And then I remember that in a month, it will be resolved and I will be thinking how silly I was. But today as I was struggling to not think, just do, I suddenly thought, google the damn lyrics and figure out where they are from.

They are from this song, aptly titled – You could be happy – yes I could be happy. It’s interesting to me that in one of the most significant upheavals of my life, this CD saved me. I had left my relationship and house and was living with my bestie and her hubby. This CD got thrashed in the car and every Saturday morning when I cleaned their lovely home, I had this on loud. I was in a cleaning phase, they didn’t force me to do it. So now that I am in another period of transition, not quite as dramatic as that, this song has come back to haunt me.

So there you go, I could be happy, and I am now choosing to be. I am going to be attempting to do a lot less over thinking and more doing. I have to remember that those 6 years ago, that I survived the upheaval and that I will survive again. This time on a different continent, but with the same support, just from a different group of friends. As well as the ones at home, who are secretly (not so secretly) hoping that this visa does not go well and that finally return to their shores. Although, if I did not over think things, then this blog would be a lot less interesting… Oh no here we go again…