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Day 9-12: Cinque Terre

Completely and utterly hungover, I made it to La Spezia, on the outskirts of the Cinque Terre. I still had a 15 minute walk and a train ahead of me, as I booked a private room in one of Cinque Terre's 5 towns: Riomaggiore. The owner of the room kindly met me at the station, and helped me with one of my bags up one very vertical incline, just to add an extra hint of lame to my already questionable state. The room was so lovely, and I appreciated having my own space and bathroom for a few days. It had a little balcony with a partial view of the ocean, and I was a happy camper.

I met Brenna for a late lunch, and we checked out the water in Riomaggiore and took snaps of the quaint pastel coloured cliffside houses. After only 3 hours sleep from the night before, this was all I had in me, before heading back to the room to sleep for a thousand years.

The next day I was feeling geeeeewd better and Brenna and I met early to tackle one of the hiking trails you can do within Cinque Terre. You can either train between the towns in a matter of minutes, or walk in a matter of hours. We opted for the second "hardest" hike available to us,  which was to walk from Monterosso to Vernazza. Monterosso is the only town with an actual beach, and it was absolutely stunning.

The hike was tougher than I'd anticipated, with the first 40 minutes or so up a million steep stairs, in 24 degree heat/direct sun, which I thought would never end. The saying ‘no pain no gain’ came to mind, and the view did make it all worth it. You wouldn't quite realise just how high you had come until you looked back to admire the view.

Post hike, some Aperol spritzs and a well deserved calamari lunch later, we caught the train back from Vernazza and met up with Carme and Kalina in Riomaggiore who had just arrived. We grabbed some 5euro pasta to go, had a bottle of wine, and made our way to the water for sunset. We sat for ages just drinking and talking on some rocks, taking it all in, and isn't something I'll forget in a hurry.

Brenna was done with hiking for the trip, so the next day Carme, Kalina and I decided to do another trail from Vernazza to Corneglia. We didn't get out of not climbing a ton of steps, and my calves were super sore,  but overall this one was waaaaay easier than the first. I think Corneglia was my favourite town of the 5, it had country views and was generally just an all round cutie. Brenna met us there for lunch, and brought along Grace-Ann, another Au pair who came to Cinque Terre for the weekend. We had lunch on a terrace, and I had one of my most satisfying paninis to date.

We explored Corneglia for a while longer, then went to Monterosso and soaked up some sun and sand in the beach for a few hours. The water was so blue, clear and clean, it felt so light and almost airy when swimming in it. I've never been in water which felt like this, ever, and it was a struggle to get out of it.

Brenna was leaving the next day, so we opted for pasta and Prosecco for dinner with Carme and Kalina. The meal choices in Italy basically only alternate between Pizza, pasta and paninis. One thing was for certain, I arrived as a human, and I would be leaving as one giant carbohydrate.

[skyglider]

Day 8 - Firenze Part II

It was my last day in Florence, and Brenna was moving on to Cinque Terre, coincidentally also my next stop. We had a last Italian pastry breakfast, said our goodbyes, and I was off to climb the Duomo aka cathedral. I had to book a few days in advance, as heading into Summer Florence was heaving with tourists. 20 minutes and 463 steps later, I had reached the top and mamma mia, what a view.

I then decided to take on the bell tower in a separate building, and kinda wished I'd known this was the same amount of steps to tackle, as may have given myself more than a 10 minute break inbetween 😂. By the end, I had ascended/descended over 1600 steps and I was spent.

I made my way back to the hostel, and got chatting to these sweet Canadian girls who had arrived in the room yesterday - Carme and Kalina. They invited me to dinner with them, and pasta was on the menu yet again (no complaints from this guy).

Post dinner we found a cocktail bar, and another girl from our room Caz came and met us to join. A bottle of wine and a few vodka lime sodas later, we decided to head back to the hostel bar to carry on. The past few nights the hostel bar had been pretty quiet, but on this night is was insanely busy all of a sudden, I actually had to queue for the bar and I was appalled. We got chatting to the Italian bartender, and I told him he was sassy. He then needed an explanation of what this word meant, I obliged, and nekminnit he's pouring us a round of free shots. When I look back, this was probably the moment it all started to go wrong.

Carme and Caz were done, and made their way to bed, but Kalina and I weren't quite ready to call it a night yet. Brenna's replacement in our room, Saba, met us and we carried on drinking and talking until the hostel again ejected us at their early closing time of 12:45am. Next thing I know, there's about 12 of us outside chatting, all looking to carry on. A pub, some more shots, and drunk chats with a ton of American boys later whose names I have forgotten, but have them on Instagram to prove it, it was 4am and we were trying to open a bottle of wine using a key in the hostel stairwell. After many unsuccessful attempts, and knowing I had an 8am bus to catch to Cinque Terre, Kalina and I called it quits. I packed my stuff drunk for the first time, and let's be honest, unlikely the last, and set 10 alarms for my 7am wake up.

This was great in theory...yet I slept through all of them. I didn't wake up until precisely 7:47am, with 13 minutes to make sense of my life, get my things, check out and make my bus. I pulled a skirt on, still in the top I slept in, last night's hair and make up still a thing, practically threw my room key at hostel staff, and rushed for my bus. I was drunk, sad, without basic amenities such as water or snacks, yet somehow was the first person to arrive for our 8am departure. I think my first bus ride will probably be my most memorable for all the wrong reasons, and was fairly miserable for its 2 hour duration. I think the busabout guide took pity on me and I must have screamed needing some mothering, as she shared some of her food with me, but otherwise I was very much okay with being left alone to de-frag and question my life choices, of course with flashbacks of the previous night coming through. I made it, and whilst I hoped I would never put myself in this situation again, still cannot be certain this would be my only close call.

[skyglider]

Day 5-7: Firenze

I have been wanting to go to Italy for such a long time, and finally the day was here. I had a brief moment of panic the day earlier realising I would be leaving my family, to venture on my own for 2 months, and naturally some insecurities plagued my mind about all the things which could go wrong, and what if I truly was destined to eat in restaurants alone for the next 8 months. I calmed myself quickly, and once it was out of my system, excitement set in. Becca very kindly drove me to the airport, and I made my flight to Florence with plenty of time.

After researching transfer/taxi costs, I opted for a 6 euro public bus from the airport to the main train station in Florence, as couldn’t justify a 30 euro taxi fare no matter which way I spun it. There were plenty of people catching it with as little idea of what they were doing as me, and it all ran super smoothly, because before I knew it, I was in the centre. I walked to my hostel, and arrived late at around 10:30pm. I was absolutely starving by this point, and had refused the shitty buy on board plane food on offer, in hope of getting something amazing once I arrived, it WAS Italy after all.

Not long after getting to the hostel, I made my first of many friends, who was staying in my room. Her name was Brenna, also an Aussie solo traveller, and we clicked pretty instantly. I told her I would need to love and leave her in search of food, and had found a pizza place I wanted to try. She offered to come with me, saying she needed the walk, and next thing I knew, Brenna, myself and another girl from our room (Julie #1) were on my pizza mission. Brenna took on a job as an Au Pair so was in Italy for four months, and spoke fluent Italian. This became incredibly/selfishly useful for me in the days to come, as she soon became my personal translator/food ordering extraordinaire which she seemed cool with. We ate an awesome pizza, shared a bottle of red wine, and ended our night with some drinks at the hostel bar before they ejected us at their very early close time of 12:45am. Kind of tipsy, full, and content, we went to bed. 

In the following days, Brenna and I became pretty good pals, and even said to each other at one point it was as though we had come on holiday together. Our daily ritual was a pastry and coffee for breakfast (true Italian breakfast/ the only kind apparently), followed by a bunch of walking and sightseeing. The weather wasn’t always the best, and we became caught in more than one torrential downpour as Florence opened its skies.

It didn’t take long for me to fall for Florence - the people were lovely, I always felt safe (no matter the time), it was very very very easy on the eye, everything was walkable, and more importantly, I got to eat carbs for every meal without judgement. 

One of the first things we opted to do was walk to a viewpoint, which was meant to offer the best views of Florence. It did not disappoint, and was worth the million steps we climbed to get there.

We enjoyed Polenta fries and deep fried bread ( yup, deep fried bread) at San Lorenzo Market, came to expect unlimited bread with balsamic/olive oil for every meal, and even once became so tipsy at lunch due to the bottle of wine we consumed, we had to go back to the hostel to nap. Not hard to see why she was my kind of person. Plus, she was down to eat as much Gelato as me, always, any time.  We ate Pizzas by the Duomo, and drank at weird bars I found on trip advisor. I was introduced to the “Hugo Spritz” (pronounced ooh-go, not hugh-goh as my twang would prefer), and what an amazing intro to Italy it had been. You couldn’t wipe the smile off of my gelato covered grin.

The second night we adopted some new arrivals into our room, Yasmin and another Julie (Julie #2). They were very supportive of my craving to have my first pasta in Italy. We found a cute little restaurant called Simbiosi, and the waitress asked if we "trusted her" to pick our bottle of red for the table. We did, and it was one of the best red wines I've ever had. Julie#2 and I got the chef's special, which involved having three different pastas given to us to share, and oh my god have I been doing pasta wrong my whole life. A highlight besides the food, was the ambience of the restaurant which was absolutely buzzing, and soon we were caught up in a moment with the people next to us who had an ordering fail. This lady thought she had ordered vegetables, and was presented with a huge hunk of steak instead. As a vegetarian, this obviously wasn't ideal, and next minute we, and the surrounding tables were in hysterics, and we were all struck by contagious laughter.

Post dinner we walked around in search of Gelato, and Florence is just as stunning at night as it is during the day. It almost feels like the city is illuminated by candlelight - just soft and romantic. We found some of the best gelato, and I ended up going back here three times during my stay because it was THAT good.

[skyglider]

Day 4: The Royal Wedding

It was Royal Wedding day, and my aunty was inviting all of the family over for a big breakfast to watch it together. I woke up early, and went downstairs slightly gobsmacked and how she had transformed their kitchen into this:

I had the very important duty of helping make the salmon and cream cheese bagels, to add to the extensive menu of cucumber sandwiches, ham and cheese toasted croissants, chocolate croissants, cupcakes, berries, and lemon and elderflower cake (because that's what Meghan and Harry were having at the wedding after all...)

Apparently the wedding dress code was hats and day dresses, so next minute Helen brings out a box of hats to get into the spirit. She also bought these scary masks of the royal family, which after many mimosas we had too much fun with. There was a royal "cake cutting" and we gathered around to watch the wedding together, which was actually far more special than I thought. Everybody in London seemed to be doing something for it, a good excuse to get together, drink/eat, and let it pull on the heart strings just a little.

After a day of grazing and drinking, Becca/Marcus/Kinsey/myself caught an uber into London and decided to grab drinks. We started at a pub, followed by a cocktail bar where I got my hands on an Espresso Martini. It was a pretty quiet night, but wicked to chat and hang out just the four of us. A few more drinks and snacks unsuccessful attempts at finding food later, we decided to call it a night.

[skyglider]

Day 3: I hate packing.

I kept things pretty chill the next day, knowing I would be setting off at the end of the week for 2 months, and I reaaaalllly needed to pack properly. I tell you, you always hear about the fun side of people’s travel adventures, but there are some harsh truths to be grappled with, such as PACKING. I really, really, really hate it. Like hate it. I’m a terrible decision maker, and I can always invent a scenario in my head where I “might” need this or that, convince myself said scenario is probable, and take un-necessary things, so this was going to be a challenge.

I managed to exceed my 30kg luggage allowance for my long-haul from Melbourne, and always intended to leave some stuff in the UK, and “re-pack” lighter for Busabout. So alas, I needed to halve my stuff, and figure out what to take to see me through 2 months of travel. I checked the weather of all destinations, and I would be getting everything from sun, rain, cold, and at one point some snow....excellent.  Needless to say a few hours, one meltdown and a whole lot of getting real with myself later, I was proud as punch when my backpack came in at 15kg...and it actually closed.

I could now relax a little, and enjoy my next 36 hours which I knew would be busy. That same night, Anna, Rory, Becca, Marcus, Kinsey & I went to see some theatre at Shakespeare’s Globe. It was an open air theatre, and I was grateful it didn’t rain being an open air theatre - ie. no roof, and the show goes on, rain, hail or shine apparently.

The cast came on stage, and the audience had to “vote” one of three plays for them to perform on the spot.  The twelfth night won, and I was impressed at how well they did with no props, and basically zero costume  I didn’t know the storyline, but I had Pimms, good company, and therefore good times were definitely had. Took some sweet pictures of a pretty looking London on our walk back, before getting on the Tube home. 

[skyglider]

Day 2: Tourist.

After a wicked sleep, and seemingly no jet-lag (whaaaat, I was surprised too), I was ready to do some exploring, and reacquaint myself with L-town. I set off pretty early, knowing I’d get tired later rather than earlier whilst still adjusting to the time difference, and caught the tube into the centre of London. I began with Big Ben, which as my aunty warned me the day prior, was covered in scaffolding due to some renovation, and I found it pretty funny to see in person, and took a ton of pictures just for the humorous side. I couldn’t help but laugh seeing one of London’s most iconic landmarks be barely recognisable/a construction site.

I wandered up to Westminster Abbey, and decided to pay the ridiculous price to go inside. I hesitated for a while, but talked myself into it eventually, thinking if not now, when would I ever do this again.  It turned out to be a pretty magical way to spend a few hours, and I didn’t realise how many historical figures were buried both beneath, and inside the abbey itself. It was pretty wild to walk through knowing you were standing on top of somebody’s grave, and to see the tombs of past rulers. I lit some candles for lost loved ones, and then became mindful of how much time I had been there,  which seemed to disappear too quickly once I went in.

From the Abbey, I kept on to Buckingham Palace, and found a spot in the sunshine to people watch. A group of ladies next to me were having their bottle of wine and BYO cheese, whilst a bunch of people seemed to be dressed in races-style attire hanging around outside the Palace which confused me. My aunty later told me the Queen was hosting one of her Garden Parties, and the people i saw would’ve been attending. Craaaay.

After mustering some strength to actually get up, my next, and probably most exciting stop to me for the day was to check out Abbey Road. It was pretty easy to find “the” pedestrian crossing, as hoards of people hung around it, waiting for traffic to clear so they could walk across it, showing off their best Beatles impression as they passed. It actually felt strangely wrong to use it as a means of crossing the road instead of a strut stop.

Tired, a little travel woozy, and pretty hungry, I grabbed something to eat before catching the tube home. My aunty and uncle hosted a big family dinner due to Marcus and I being in the country. I drank wine, caught up with everybody, and over indulged in the 2 types of apple crumble my aunty had made. It had been a big day, but a really fun one. 

[skyglider]

Day 1: London Town

When I booked this, May felt a life-time away, and yet it came around so quickly, and I didn’t feel prepared. But I was as prepared as I could be, and had to remind myself there wouldn’t be a “marker” or a point in which I would ever truly feel ready to embark on this adventure. So, I committed to the less thinking, more do-ing frame of mind.

I left home on May 15th, and I can’t say the thought of 23 hours of travelling enthused me, but a necessary evil I suppose. My plan was to try and get into London time from the get-go, which meant staying awake for my flight to Singapore, then trying to sleep on leg 2 through to Heathrow. After some teary goodbyes at the airport, the fact I was leaving finally hit me, feeling completely unreal until walking through security, and the penny dropped that I was now officially on my own. 

I managed to fulfil my plan of staying awake for flight #1, and was pretty stoked on having an empty seat next to me. So was Bill, a 60 something year old from Mildura, who I got to know pretty well. Bill and I gas-bagged over many a vodka and ginger beer as he told me how he and his wife were to travel the UK for four months, presently only had 1 night’s accommodation booked and were purchasing a campervan in Reading to drive around in for their travels. Here I was, feeling so underprepared having only 2.5 months out of 7 months booked, and old mate Bill was perfectly content with his 1 confirmed night. Speaking with him actually comforted me in a weird way, and almost reassured me things would be okay - if he could do it, then so could I. He showed me pictures of his 3yr old granddaughter, the Mildura sunsets he would get from his houseboat (which he lived in prior to leaving, due to selling up everything). Then, somewhere between discussing the cost of avocados in Melbourne and stories about how he's building a house, dem vodkas got the better of us and we both found ourselves napping for the last few hours of the flight.

I was in a different seat on flight #2, as was he, but we saw each other when we landed, and I’ve been sparing him a few thoughts whilst I’ve been away, wondering how they’re doing on their adventure. 10/10 deadset legend.

I eventually arrived into London at 6:55am, and my uncle came to retrieve me from the airport, which was much appreciated by a dreary eyed Alex. Even though it has been a few years since I’ve been back, and far longer since living there, something about London always feels familiar, and like home to me still.

Needless to say my first day was spent not moving too far, with only one objective in mind: stay awake as long as humanly possible and don’t fuck it up.

Being so busy in the lead up to leaving, I welcomed some down time chilling out at my uncle’s, watching Friends re-runs on Sky, and looking into some trip things with much still to be figured out. One bottle of Prosecco with my aunty, plus a lot of regular anti-nap walks later, it was suddenly dinner time, and my American cousin came through the door with his wife, who were also staying with my uncle at the time. It was wicked that our trips managed to overlap without any pre-planning or thought, just pure coincidence. Like me, we grew up together in the UK, before being pulled overseas by our parents. I hadn’t spent proper time with him since I was incredibly young, and it was sweet getting to now hang out and catch up on life.

Later on we went and visited Matt, Becca, Amy (more cousins) at the local tennis club, where they have been taking lessons. By this point it was 9:30pm, and I was definitely starting to fade. By 10:30pm, the rosés I subsequently drank at the tennis club, plus the prosecco coupled with the greatest shower of my life (the kind that only feel THAT good after 23+ hours of travel), I slept like a baby for 11 hours straight, ready to be far more productive for day 2.

[skyglider]

The Great Escape

Oh hey there tumblr, long time no see. 

After an unexpected, and frankly painful past 6 months in my personal life, it became clear to me a change was needed. So much was changing for me, and none of it felt positive, and I knew I had to create something for myself: something to look forward to, a way to create some new memories, push myself and evolve from my comfort zone and most importantly find a way to change my direction in a way which excited me. I was feeling unfulfilled, I was really really really hurt, I had an urge to escape and knew I had to take some kind of action. 

Past November, this led me to book the biggest, and longest trip I will have ever taken.  With a helluva lot of support from family and close friends, I booked to travel around Europe for a minimum of 7 months, with the potential to stay on depending on how it goes. A perk to working in the travel industry can be some pretty wicked industry rates/discounts, and this came through for me for my travels. I booked an Unlimited Pass with Busabout, who offer a hop on/hop off bus network through Europe.  You can pick it up, or drop it off wherever you fancy. Some stops are optional, some are compulsory. 

Not being a huge fan of overly organised tours, this was the perfect balance between cheap transport, which provided a chance to meet people, but not see me locked down to a fixed itinerary where I wouldn’t have the breathing room I prefer when travelling. I also liked the idea of its flexibility, in being able to cancel my spot on the buses at any time if I wanted to extend/reduce my stay somewhere, and re-book onto the new available. So voila, next thing I knew my industry discount was secured, deposit paid, and I took my first step to turning the Euro dream into a reality. 

Soon to follow, I booked flights, accommodation, resigned from my job and slowly told those closest to me about my grand plan. I can’t say packing up your life to leave for an indefinite period of time, and saying goodbye to your squad was easy. I think it will forever be one of the scariest, surrealest things I’ve done and potentially ever will do. But when you know, you know, and the lust for adventure far outweighed my fear, and I sure as hell wasn’t letting fear win this one. 

And so alas, a few people have since asked me to resurrect this account to keep in tune with my whereabouts, and as somebody whose memory isn’t awesome, it’ll be good to have it documented. Plus, unapologetic photo posting ftw.  

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The best way to wake up every day. Just isn't getting old.

[skyglider]

In a sense, it is the coming back, the return which gives meaning to the going forth. We really don't know where we've been until we come back to where we were - only where we were may not be as it was because of who we've become, which, after all, is why we left.

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On Sunday I went to big day out for the first time, and despite hearing mixed reviews and a lot of people complaining about this year's line-up, I had the funnest day I have had in a very long time. It was a sweltering 36 degrees, and I was already a little burnt from spending the day before at Cape Paterson so a t-shirt was necessary. I'm so happy I made that life choice, as at times I felt like I was even being burnt through my tee. I snuck in a full bottle of vodka via various creative methods because a) I am ridiculously poor and could not afford to pay $12 for a can of spirits and b) you had to consume your *purchased* drinks in bar areas (lame), so at least by BYOing I got to drink wherever I wanted. They were giving away free slurpees and raspberry ice tea all day, so between consuming my weight in complimentary refreshments and adding my own little somethin' to them, I was set.

Seeing Parkway and Living End made me feel like my sixteen year old self,  I watched My Chemical Romance only because I'm a supportive girlfriend, The Getaway Plan didn't play anything I would have liked to have heard, Kimbra, Foster the People and Best Coast were good but Girl Talk and Kanye blew my mind and made the day worthwhile in themselves. So so good.

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We asked our friend Mitch to draw us a Ron Swanson. Two days later, he sends us this. Incredibly excited to hang this in our room, beyond amazing!

First painting of the year! Ron Swanson for my pals Alex + Ryan.