Alive and kicking in Berlin. Spent the day walking, people watching, and finding the next warm cafe to sit drinking coffee in.
An update from yesterday's train ride. Wasn't able to post, no internets available till now:
Ok, I admit it. I was wrong.... I am dazed, confused and jetlag has officially kicked me in the b-hole. Almost an out of body experience, I am beside myself, amused at my own presumtuous declaration that I was victorious over jetlag.
Oh godd I really cannot think straight.
I really want a shower.... and a bed....... but mostly just a shower. Yessssss. A shower would make everything better in the world.
Still on the train to Berlin..... Just moments after I made my previous entry, the train I was on broke down and I ended up in a small southern German town for an hour or two. Apparantly we were at risk of freezing on train no. 1. Strange, because I was starting to feel quite comfortable, and getting out of said train to stand in snow filled streets for an hour did not seem appropriate for the result they were trying to achieve. Anyhow, they put us all on train no. 2 to Berlin, and everything worked out but this does mean that my transit time has been extended to a whopping 43 hours.
On top of this, the only thing I can remember in German is 'hallo! Frushtuck!" translating to "hello! Breakfast!".... Not that handy at 5.32pm I might add.
I also seem to have forgotten how to speak English and have resorted to telling the Germans, in French, that I can't speak French (or German) but that I can understand a little English.
I'm pretty sure no-one understands anything I am saying no matter what language I use. They are being totally lovely though. I'm getting an overwhelming sense of pity. 'Look out, hear comes that special girl again. She's so cute and stupid. She can't do annnything. Aaaaaaw.'
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Friday, November 26, 2010
Europe ahoy!
So after an epic episode in transit involving delayed flights, drunken plane rides, nearly missed connections, lost guitars, broken french, and peak hour Parisians I find myself back in France, boarded upon a train to Berlin. By the time I reach my destination I will have had around 39hours in transit. Wow. Even I am impressed, surprised and mortified by that figure.
I feel surprisingly good. This may have something to do with the drunken Sydney/Singapore leg of the journey. For that flight, I was sat aside Tony and Ian, a lovely married couple from Portsmith, UK. They knew that I was their kind of gal when I swiftly ordered a red wine with dinner. Ian is a flight attendant for British Airways and had mentioned this fact to the onboard staff. Before we could secure our seatbelts low and tight, we were sipping first class wine, moisturising our faces with our business class toiletries, legs outstretched in the glorious comfort of an exit row, and celebrating Tony's imaginary birthday. And we celebrated, and celebrated, and then celebrated some more. The onboard staff just wouldn't let us stop. At one point even physically waking me to give me another tiny bottle of red. How could I refuse?? It was my friend's 'birthday' afterall...
8 hours passed, we landed, and Tony, Ian and their new fag hag rolled off the plane, giggling, silly, and completely directionless. This was ok for the boys since they were staying in Singapore for a couple of days but for Ms Drunky over here, not so great. I said some overemotional goodbyes to my new buddies, and stubbled off into the duty free paradise, trying to find my connecting departure gate. I had just under 30mins to do it. Now it's a wonder I actually found the gate, and a complete MIRACLE they let me on the flight. The last thing I clearly remember is trying to take off my boots in the security scan, which I am certain took suspiciously longer than it should have for a normal, sober, ok-to-travel passenger. Nevertheless, they let me on. Now, I must have got on, stowed my bags and completely passed out because 7 hours later, I woke up to breakfast and only 6 hours left of flying to go.
So I have definitely learned something from this experience....All this time I have been a non-drinking flyer in an effort to avoid jetlag. Well, screw that people. I feel great! I would recommend this approach for any dual long hauls you take. Get drunk first flight, sleep it off the next. Unfortunately we all can't be sat next to Tony and Ian though. Which really helped the cause.
Now, I am enroute to Berlin. Snow everywhere. Absolutely amazingly beautiful. Just saw elk out in the landscape. Ain't life grand.
I feel surprisingly good. This may have something to do with the drunken Sydney/Singapore leg of the journey. For that flight, I was sat aside Tony and Ian, a lovely married couple from Portsmith, UK. They knew that I was their kind of gal when I swiftly ordered a red wine with dinner. Ian is a flight attendant for British Airways and had mentioned this fact to the onboard staff. Before we could secure our seatbelts low and tight, we were sipping first class wine, moisturising our faces with our business class toiletries, legs outstretched in the glorious comfort of an exit row, and celebrating Tony's imaginary birthday. And we celebrated, and celebrated, and then celebrated some more. The onboard staff just wouldn't let us stop. At one point even physically waking me to give me another tiny bottle of red. How could I refuse?? It was my friend's 'birthday' afterall...
8 hours passed, we landed, and Tony, Ian and their new fag hag rolled off the plane, giggling, silly, and completely directionless. This was ok for the boys since they were staying in Singapore for a couple of days but for Ms Drunky over here, not so great. I said some overemotional goodbyes to my new buddies, and stubbled off into the duty free paradise, trying to find my connecting departure gate. I had just under 30mins to do it. Now it's a wonder I actually found the gate, and a complete MIRACLE they let me on the flight. The last thing I clearly remember is trying to take off my boots in the security scan, which I am certain took suspiciously longer than it should have for a normal, sober, ok-to-travel passenger. Nevertheless, they let me on. Now, I must have got on, stowed my bags and completely passed out because 7 hours later, I woke up to breakfast and only 6 hours left of flying to go.
So I have definitely learned something from this experience....All this time I have been a non-drinking flyer in an effort to avoid jetlag. Well, screw that people. I feel great! I would recommend this approach for any dual long hauls you take. Get drunk first flight, sleep it off the next. Unfortunately we all can't be sat next to Tony and Ian though. Which really helped the cause.
Now, I am enroute to Berlin. Snow everywhere. Absolutely amazingly beautiful. Just saw elk out in the landscape. Ain't life grand.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Sleepless
So, the Blasko tour is over and I am back to a semi-normal unemployed life. It has been a series of ups and downs to be honest. I am taking like a duck to water with the prospect of doing nothing all day, but as a consequence a whole week has gone by with virtually nothing achieved.
I arose this morning (after a night of insomnia, anxiety and absolute panic) with the intention to work out what the BEJESUS I am going to do when I get to Europe in a week. Again, I am a little concerned about money since I have less cash than I would desire at the start of a month long overseas trip. Another concerning factor is that I have turned into an incredibly needy and indecisive human being since finishing the tour with Seja. I can only put this down to the fact that I have not been alone for more than 5 weeks and have rarely had to make a decision for myself.
The thought of being on my own is nothing short of utterly terrifying, and being alone in a country where I don't speak the language..... oh my.
This hopelessness is not something that I like admitting to. I am generally a strong, confident and independent young woman, but my recent underlying fragility is permeating my subconscious.
That said, I'm sure everything will work out. I have travelled solo before with no problems. I just need to get on top of things and work out a plan. I am certain that this sudden neurosis is purely due to my tendency to procrastinate, my relaxed approach to planning this overseas jaunt and my incredible knack for being directionlessly unemployed.
Responsibilities. I forget how to do that already.
Another note about being unemployed... I have now officially turned into one of those arseholes that forgets that the larger percentage of the population has to work. What do you mean you can't drink with me tonight? Oh you have to 'work' tomorrow. Coffee today? Oh, you are at 'work'. I even put my foot in it (royally) the other night when I announced in front of a group of friends that "Full time jobs are for jerks", which was met with a stony silence and a bemused disapproval while I realised that every one of them was a full timer. GAH.
I arose this morning (after a night of insomnia, anxiety and absolute panic) with the intention to work out what the BEJESUS I am going to do when I get to Europe in a week. Again, I am a little concerned about money since I have less cash than I would desire at the start of a month long overseas trip. Another concerning factor is that I have turned into an incredibly needy and indecisive human being since finishing the tour with Seja. I can only put this down to the fact that I have not been alone for more than 5 weeks and have rarely had to make a decision for myself.
The thought of being on my own is nothing short of utterly terrifying, and being alone in a country where I don't speak the language..... oh my.
This hopelessness is not something that I like admitting to. I am generally a strong, confident and independent young woman, but my recent underlying fragility is permeating my subconscious.
That said, I'm sure everything will work out. I have travelled solo before with no problems. I just need to get on top of things and work out a plan. I am certain that this sudden neurosis is purely due to my tendency to procrastinate, my relaxed approach to planning this overseas jaunt and my incredible knack for being directionlessly unemployed.
Responsibilities. I forget how to do that already.
Another note about being unemployed... I have now officially turned into one of those arseholes that forgets that the larger percentage of the population has to work. What do you mean you can't drink with me tonight? Oh you have to 'work' tomorrow. Coffee today? Oh, you are at 'work'. I even put my foot in it (royally) the other night when I announced in front of a group of friends that "Full time jobs are for jerks", which was met with a stony silence and a bemused disapproval while I realised that every one of them was a full timer. GAH.
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Words with schmucks
So the Blazzie troupe is having a Words With Friends (iPhone scrabble) tourament. I thought I would share some of the crackers that are getting laid down via the digital scrabble board:
Boob
Urine
Shat
Wad
Cock
Boon
Tits
Anus
Fart
Shit
Wank
Sex
Poo
Regardless of point count we all have been lowering our brows and striving for smut. So juevenille, but soooo entertaining.
In other news, only 2 shows to go! Both on the west coast in Perth. It's my first time on this side of the country.
So pretty, I could live here...
Boob
Urine
Shat
Wad
Cock
Boon
Tits
Anus
Fart
Shit
Wank
Sex
Poo
Regardless of point count we all have been lowering our brows and striving for smut. So juevenille, but soooo entertaining.
In other news, only 2 shows to go! Both on the west coast in Perth. It's my first time on this side of the country.
So pretty, I could live here...
Monday, November 1, 2010
I could live here...
Currently in the car, heading out of Sydney towards the ACT for our second Canberra show. The first was on Saturday night.
It is safe to safe that the city of roundabouts lives up to my expectations of being a pretty low key place. The venue is endearingly reminiscent of the House of Representatives with itchy green wool seats and the general vibe that some kind of press conference is iminent. The town consists of 70s business block after 70s buisness block, manmade lakes, circular driving and not a person in sight. Where are all the Canberrians? Where??? It was almost like we could be on the set of an apocolyptic zombie horror flick. Alas, the audience arrived (none undead from what I could gather) and a show was played. It's incredible that we got through it considering our heavily hungover bodies barely made it through sound check that day. Our sound guy James even thought it best to ask a couple of the female ushers if they could sing after hearing Seja and I in unison. The evening before was the Enmore show in Sydney, and being the Blasko band's hometown, some pretty epic partying was done. There was a collection of sore heads and livers the next day, my favourite post party comment being 'I feel like someone shat on my soul' from Sarah's guitarist, Ben Fletcher.
Before that we travelled through Bryon, Tamworth, Port Macquarie and Newcastle and it is safe to say that I am becoming a bit of a destination slut, my daily mantra being 'aaaw, it's so pretty, I could live here'. Not so sure about Canberra though...BRAAAAINS.
A note on Port Macquarie:
This would have to top my destination obsession so far. Such a beautiful place. When you end up in the waves, still drunk at 8am, watching dophins surf just metres away and whales frolicking in the distance, life can't get much better...
It is safe to safe that the city of roundabouts lives up to my expectations of being a pretty low key place. The venue is endearingly reminiscent of the House of Representatives with itchy green wool seats and the general vibe that some kind of press conference is iminent. The town consists of 70s business block after 70s buisness block, manmade lakes, circular driving and not a person in sight. Where are all the Canberrians? Where??? It was almost like we could be on the set of an apocolyptic zombie horror flick. Alas, the audience arrived (none undead from what I could gather) and a show was played. It's incredible that we got through it considering our heavily hungover bodies barely made it through sound check that day. Our sound guy James even thought it best to ask a couple of the female ushers if they could sing after hearing Seja and I in unison. The evening before was the Enmore show in Sydney, and being the Blasko band's hometown, some pretty epic partying was done. There was a collection of sore heads and livers the next day, my favourite post party comment being 'I feel like someone shat on my soul' from Sarah's guitarist, Ben Fletcher.
Before that we travelled through Bryon, Tamworth, Port Macquarie and Newcastle and it is safe to say that I am becoming a bit of a destination slut, my daily mantra being 'aaaw, it's so pretty, I could live here'. Not so sure about Canberra though...BRAAAAINS.
A note on Port Macquarie:
This would have to top my destination obsession so far. Such a beautiful place. When you end up in the waves, still drunk at 8am, watching dophins surf just metres away and whales frolicking in the distance, life can't get much better...
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