Read worthy: The Winter Vault

Anne Michaels is one of my favourite writers, her newer novel, The Winter Vault is beautifully written though sorrowful. Not as lovely as Fugitive Pieces, her first novel, but still a must read.

Bits from the book:
'The market at Wadi Halfa was a place where every human whim had found a shelf. It was a catalogue of desires, a market of the broken and the lost, haunted by the hopes of both buyer and seller.'

'But no one said what was surely simple and obvious: you need flowers for a grave. Flowers were the very first thing we needed. Before bread. And long before words.'

'He had not said what he wanted: send me a signal across the river, by lantern light or bird call, come under cover of darkness, I will know you by your smell, come with the rain.....'

London living: oh the little things

The good:

Hearing someone on the street say 'you bloody checky bastard'
Arriving to the bus stop just as the bus you want pulls up and opens it's door to you
The normalcy in going for a quick pint after work
The diversity of people, each area has it's own diversity, it's own pocket.

My coworker/friend Stephen said, 'London grew organically, it's not on a grid, and I like that'.

The bad:

Hearing your neighbours above you singing kareoke late into the night
Waiting for the bus while three buses pass you going the opposite direction
London is kind of dirty and its customer service is appalling.

Haitian remembrance: Première partie

Last night I had a flashback to Haiti, the rebellious country of sunlight and poverty stays with me still. I don't think it wants me to forget it and I don't want to because it was so significant to me before, during, and after the whole six month Peace Corps experience.

Transportation in Haiti was at times frightful and at times liberating. One could catch a ride by flagging someone down on the road, jumping in any car. Other times I would be with a group of people standing straight up in an open flat bed truck, holding on for dear life, rocking with all our human bodies thinking when one slips, we all will fall into the hole stricken roads.

Once I was on a windy mountain road journey (the tree barren lands of Haiti are more mountainous than the Swiss Alps) sitting next to the bus driver who was drinking a Colt beer at 11 in the morning. It's early, I told him and he cackled back.


I've recently connected with fellow volunteers. Ben, a great guy, posted a photo (see above) of our volunteer group during our training. The photo was taken on an old school bus we took up the hill to visit a monastery. On our way up, the bus turned into a driveway and then reversed back. Instead of reversing and stopping, the bus continued down the hill backwards. The driver's brakes failing, we rolled down a hill, collected speed and then collided into a tree in front of a small haitian house (thankfully the tree was there or we would have killed someone). There were a few cuts and pinned legs amoung the group. We piled out and walked the rest of the way up. The bus driver still charged us. This was Haiti.

I will always remember the rides, squeezed between smelly arms, holding tight. I remember the people I randomly met, being a white face, being different. I will remember the tap taps (public transportation) and the chickens I shared a ride with and the banging on the side of large vehicles signaling a desire to get off. I wanted to get off, I wanted to leave the island most of the time I was there, but when the time came, when we were forced out because the government fell, when we were told we had to go, I didn't want the ride.

The Globe theatre

Who: Belen and I plus my co-workers Magnus and Anna
What: An American experience at the Globe theatre. B was a bit disappointed it wasn't Shakespeare, as was I.
When: Last Friday from 7 till 10:30 (the play was long)
Why: Because Magnus got the best seats in the house and none of us had ever been.

Check out their website here

'We have it in our power to begin the world over again’
Thomas Paine's Common Sense, 1776, referenced in Barack Obama's inauguration speech, 2009.

A New World brings to life a world turned upside down by notions of freedom and liberty. American independence and French revolution, battlefields and bedrooms, prisons and printing presses are all brought to the Globe stage in this compelling story of a remarkable man.

This world premiere celebrates the life and loves of Thomas Paine with songs, music and a huge carnival spirit. The much-acclaimed writer Trevor Griffiths is best known for his landmark play Comedians and Oscar-nominated screenplay Reds.

Swaptastic!

I kept calling it the wife swap even though no wives were involved, well actually maybe a few. What I meant to say was clothes swap or swishing (not a fan of this name) and I am loving this fairly new trend among my peeps in London.

Last night was the second time I went to a clothing swap at a friends house and it was BIG. My co-worker Rose and her flatmates Laurion and Anna hosted the event at their home in Clapton. The thing about Rose is that she’s got a lot of friends! Except for a friend I brought, she had a gang of twelve lovely ladies bounding into the house bearing wine and clothes that they no longer fit or wanted anymore.

The night started with a few drinks outside in the garden. Yesterday we had a freak spell of warm weather and it was lovely outside. There was a lot of laughter and excitement and everyone was super friendly. My mate and I reflected post swap how very strong/independent and intelligent each female individual seemed.

After drinks in the garden we moved to the clothing, and were there quite a lot of frocks! It was a hot mess of arms, shirts, shoes, perfume, scarfs, wine, and smiles. ‘Whose is this’ someone asked, ‘who cares,' another retorted, it’s yours now!' 'I've never been to a party like this!', Rose's friend Steph exclaimed. After awhile we all felt we were unable to really see all of the great pieces in the many piles so Rose held up items to ohhs and aahhhs and ‘I’ll take that’s’. Items we didn’t want found a place in a huge bag bound for the charity shop. We finished the night outside. Many a friend put on their new clothes, my friend Emma wore her three new flowing skirts all in one go.

I, as my mother always says, 'made out like a bandit', with two bracelets, a jacket, a few tops and even a little bottle of perfume. A clothes swap party is a great way to meet new people and get new clothes for free. I'm definitely looking forward to another.

Sunset on a Croatian Island (Hvar)

Mostar, Bosnia and Herzegovina

From Wikipedia:
Mostar is a city and municipality in Bosnia and Herzegovina, the biggest and the most important city in the Herzegovina region. Mostar is situated on the Neretva river and is the fifth-largest city in the country. Mostar was named after "the bridge keepers" (natively: mostari) who kept the Stari Most (Old Bridge) over Neretva river.During the Ottoman era, the Old Bridge was built and became one of the symbols of Mostar. The bridge was destroyed by Croatian Defence Council units during the Bosnian-Herzegovian War, on November 9, 1993 at 10:15 am. Slobodan Praljak, the commander of the Croat forces, is on trial at the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia for ordering the destruction of the bridge, among other charges.

Visit!! Despite the fact that it's inexpensive and the bridge is worth the trip alone (locals jump of the bridge regularly), it's recent past of war and renewal is a feast for the eyes and you couldn't find a more friendlier group of people in the world. It was hot there, our hostel owner told us before we left to explore the city, 'Remember ladies, shade is your friend'.

Oh, one memorably story: We were at the mosque and Belen (the Spaniard) and Emma (whose British) decided to pay the fee to climb to the top to see the views of the town. Steph (the other American) and I decided to stay behind. The man who took the fees called over to us, 'Come here, Come here!' 'Where are you from?,' he asked 'America' we both said hesitantly, expecting the worst. 'Ok, ok,' the man said, 'you go in free, I love your President Obama and Joe Biden. We love Americans'.Nice, I've got to thank Obama for the free entry.

Croatia/Mostar trip with the ladies

Three of my best mates and I flew off to Split, Croatia in the wee hours of the morning last Wednesday for fun in the sun. We arrived there to 31C (around 90 degrees) to a beautiful albeit a bit smelly city (almost as smelly as Venice) with many shiny smooth stairs to climb which I fell down on a regular basis. I still have a few cuts and bruises. After finding our guesthouse, the German/Croat proprietor told us in broken English, 'my life, my life', and Emma used what little German she knew to figure out she wanted us to wait there. Her husband (her life) came later and took us to another apartment on the other side of town where we cooled off in the AC, changed into our swimsuits to start the trip off with a dip in the sea. Later that evening we walked around the old town, strolling through little alleyways, checking out the shops and statues, finding a nice place to eat.


The next morning we took a bus to Mostar in Bosnia (a separate blog entry to follow) and then the following day another bus to Dubrovnik. Dubrovnik is even more step oriented with many stray cats and an old town surrounded by a great wall. I can't imagine being wheelchair bound living in the city. We had a lovely little modern house with a nice outside space where we had breakfast and a dinner and although it was touristy, there were just a lot of people, we met a few locals and people were friendly. The second day in Dub we took a small boat to another island close by where we spent the day exploring the tides and dipping into the blue sea. In this island they had a lake called the Dead Sea where they had a rope swing which we swung off of, well my friends swung while I slept. We finished the day off with a tour of the stone walls viewing the city from above and with cocktails at sunset.





Two days after arriving to Dub we set off for some island play. Unfortunately we just couldn't get up to make the ferry so we missed the fast one to Mijet or Korkula (islands we wanted to go to) and instead had to ride on a boat for six hours, oh the pain, (just kidding!) to Hvar. The boat ride was refreshing and it was nice to people watch and see the boats passing us by. Hvar is a cool island, but a bit Ibiza-esque which really isn't my scene. We did a lot of swimming there and my friend Steph coincidentally had mates staying on the island too. We met her friends for dinner and it was such great fun. They were out there just to party and relax and to stay put on the one island (I would have gone stir crazy), but they were really funny and it was non stop chatter from all of us. In the morning B and I decided to go back to Split where our journey started. Belen and I had a nice view of all of Split where we stayed, the balcony opening up to the water and the old town. It was a home stay or hostel, a typical accommodation there. There were bands playing at a free festival in the city when we arrived. Stephanie and Emma continued the party on Hvar and didn't sleep a wink, taking the first fast ferry in the morning to get to the airport bus we all had to catch. We all made it on the plane.

We heard Croats were unfriendly and that it was expensive and the food wasn't very good. We found lots of kind people who helped us along the way. Except for a few waiters with attitude which you find anywhere, everyone was really cool. Each night we feasted on fresh fish, or oysters, fried calamari and salads, and on occasion ice cream. We drank the local lager, Karlovacko, which hit the spot when hot and in terms of funds, and their wine was better than anything I've enjoyed here in England.

I'd recommend Croatia for a visit, do it now before it gets in the European Union and their Kuna currency becomes worthless....also I'd recommend maybe April or September to beat the super hot heat and all the people, it can be a bit touristy.

A quick update before I take flight

I am leaving tomorrow. I just need the sun. All of those photos on the social networking sites with all of my mates at the beach were getting me down so I just had to do the same.

It's definitely summertime in my office. Many people are off, everyone in the office as I pass them, their screen image reflects back at me with unrelated work sites; shopping for a washer, booking a flight, checking facebook. My colleague and I have been having a blog blitz and sharing our most favourite sites with each other. I've discovered some great ones which I will share with you soon. I've also just finished a good book, The Girl Who Played with Fire, one in a series of three by Stieg Larsson. I now must anxiously await the last book's translation from Swedish.

The weather's been good here though....not great, but I haven't used my umbrella so that's always a good sign.

I went with the gals to the park this weekend. I baked a cake, I watched Revolutionary Road. I cleaned my house Saturday morning which got all messy after a friend came over Saturday night and then another friend on Sunday. The Sunday night friend discovered a mouse in our kitchen (yes the saga continues, mice plague my life here, like Bill plagues Hillary's, like pesky housemates).
Also on Saturday, when the post strikes subsided and I actually received mail, I opened a letter from Transport for London. It seems I have bad luck when it comes to cars. The one time that I rent a car in London, I get two tickets...they've got camera's everywhere! One of the tickets wasn't my fault and was a misunderstanding with a congestion charge payment, the second ticket was ten minutes away from the rental car place (!!!) after I'd driven north for five hours and then back again. Since I don't have a UK license I might have to go to court (NOOOO) and pay a hefty fine (don't worry grandpa I won't go to jail). It's such a pain and so costly.

I'll stop going off on one and instead just be off, ta.

Parkside Farm picking paradise

I've been quite the nature girl lately what with camping and hiking. Then this weekend my friends and I went to a farm to pick our own fruit and vegetables. With my roots steeped in farming I couldn't help but snap photos of the tractors and the strawberries growing abundantly. It was only a short twenty minute train ride away, but Parkside Farm felt far out. Upon our arrival we were given little baskets to put our berries in and started on our way.
There were a few weird people there who didn't respect the land or rules and who just ate the fruit instead of putting it in their baskets. We tried to ignore them.

We'd had a huge breakfast so just sampled a bit and picked a lot to take home. At one point Belen had to stop me because I was so excited and so into it that I was picking just to pick. I was sad the cucumbers weren't in season, but we got some nice looking greenbeans that reminded me of my grandmother. Lindsey said the green beans reminded her of hers too! It was a great bargain and a nice afternoon out.

I so wanted to jump on these bad boys....

Lindsey and I showing off our green beans.

Belen and her mutant raspberry (they were SO delicious)

Things I don't like

Last night on my way to babysit, while riding in the stuffy underground, I smelled a smell of nail varnish. What's this I thought? I looked to my left, then my right and then straight ahead. There, there right in front of me, was a woman PAINTING HER NAILS ON THE TUBE (quite poorly, they looked rubbish)! Nail varnish in an inclosed space!

My mom's shocked voice echoed in my head, or was that mine? Distant memories came back to me of my mother yelling at me to open a window or go outside when I put paint to nail. She always thought the smell was poisonous to ones lungs. I rather like the smell, but understand the intoxication one gets from it in enclosed areas. Although I am for painted nails, painting them on tubes or even the plane (I've seen this once too) is so uncouth. Am I being over dramatic? ok I'll stop my ranting.