In Which I Cried on the Side of the Road, Somewhere near Venice

#1 - When Elly and I were in the backpackers in Cardiff, we were in the TV room when some guy, who could have been Russian, asked me where I am from. When I said New Zealand, he asked if I was from the mountains. Which mountains, I inquired, thinking that there are many mountains in NZ. He says, I don't know someplace rural where not many people are, so your accent is very strong.

Elly and I laughed. Compared to Jessie, I don't have a strong accent. Even a guy from Canberra didn't think so. What the hell? A good laugh.

#2 -

Apparently, in Wales there is a specialty dish called "Dragon Sausages". They are some mixture of pork, onions, spices and so forth. However, there was recently a scandal that almost forced them to change their name. Apparently some people were horrified to learn that what they had eaten wasn't in fact, dragon. They got really angry and called it false advertising. YEAH.

Sorry for not updating in so long, but I haven't really had a good keyboard to do so on. I am now 22. Since I last updated, I have been to Wales, Austria, Prague and am now in Italy. I spent my birthday in Vienna, where Paul and I went to a big zoo and I saw pandas!! Amongst other things. I had seen a sign on a map that Paul had of the city, and had been wanting to see them since. They were the black and white kind too, and yes, they had silly names like Yang Yang and Xing Xang Xong.

Prague was so beautiful (architecture swoon)! We also went out to a place called Kutna Hora, where there is an ossuary - a chapel decorated entirely with bones!

Our ride to Italy was far more eventful than I'd have wished. We were supposed to get a Mitfahr from Munich to Venice. We met the guy at the train station and climbed into his campervan. Then everything went awry. What was supposed to be a four hour trip turned into 12 hours, at which point we hadn't even reached our destination. The guy was an idiot. He got lost so many times, even with a GPS navigation system on his dashboard. He took the route through the alps, south through Germany, into Austria and then through Italy. This means that his suck monkeys outdated campervan could only go a maximum of about 20kms. Italians were overtaking him and making evocative hand gestures. Constantly. He stopped so many times, once to get food, and other times on the pretence of letting us get some fresh air whilst he fiddled around with his GPS. He was lost. We were stuck in the frelling mountains for 8 hours! He also said that he didn't know about the tolls on the autobahn, and so wanted to charge us more than we had originally agreed. We had agreed on €33 each, and he wanted to jack it up to €46 each!

When we finally arrived in Venice, we weren't actually in Venice but somewhere in the outskirts. He dropped off the two other passengers where they wanted to be. He then told us that he wouldn't be able to take us into the centre city because he wouldn't/couldn't drive there. We said take us to the nearest train station then. The frelling moron started driving off on the motorway towards Trieste! Trieste is near the border of Slovenia!! Which is at least two hours by train. I was freaking out. He had lied to us, stuffed us around and now couldn't even get us near where we wanted to be! What a suck monkey.

Then it all got much, much worse. He decided that he needed to pull over to check his battery, potential issues with which had been indicated to him since our adventure in the alps by a flashing red light, but he thought "we could get there(wherever there was because he clearly hadn't intended on dropping us off at our destination)before it dies." Guess what? It died. The spare one didn't fit. Who buys a new car battery and charges it before checking whether it fits the car or not? He was clearly not a forward-thinking man, if indeed he was a thinking man. So there we were, pulled over on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere (an industrial exit about 10 minutes drive from anything citylike) at 9:30pm. I was almost at breakingpoint. We only had two hours to be at our hostel in which to check in, or we would have to pay for a night that we didn't spend there. And we would still not be in Venice, trapped on the side of a road with a frelling moron. Naturally, I ended up in tears. Paul readied the pepper spray in case he wasn't an idiot and was in fact, playing us.

His best idea was to call his friends (who were somewhere between Venice and Verona) and hope that they would come to him. At which point he hadn't a clue what he would do. He didn't even apologise. He didn't seem to care what happened to us at all. Paul eventually flagged down a nice man who drove us to the local station, and we made it to the hostel safe and in time. Needless to say, we were exhausted and very distraught. And no, we didn't pay him any more money (we'd already foolishly handed over €50 in the mountains to compensate for tolls).

Frell him for ruining my holiday. Oh well. Something had to go wrong somewhere, and it hadn't happened since Hastings. Venice today, then Verona tomorrow then onwards and outwards. See you later!

Sharing an Enclosure

Backpackers hostel in Oxford.

Subject A: English woman, Catholic, average height, but thin, with a gaunt face and loose skin. She is old, sixty maybe, or a very aged mid-fifties. Her hair is shoulder-length, white and stringy. It is askew upon her head, and looks as though it has already fallen out once and she has just glued it back atop her head. Her face seems to be permanently set to disappointment, or perhaps despair. She made me feel uncomfortable, as though she were judging my comments to her personal scale of upright behaviour.

She greeted me kindly enough and asked where I was from. I replied and then said that I was on my OE. I don't know if it was my tone of voice or something I suggested quite subconsciously, or perhaps the direction of the conversation was predetermined by her before I even spoke. As it was, she leapt into a fervent tale about how her youngest daughter's ex-boyfriend had suddenly dropped job, house and her daughter in order to travel the globe, leaving the daughter in (or so it was communicated to me) a state of utmost disrepair.
Said daughter is apparently now in a relationship with a man who (oh gods, wait for it) doesn't want kids! The horror!

Apparently the other daughter is going to be marrying a non-Catholic in a church of no denomination!! Yak yak yak. The fiance in question suggested that meeting his fiancee's mother (my lecturer in this story) was "an experience". She cannot imagine what he might mean by this.
I can guess...:P

Subject 2: It's 12:30am and they have just arrived at the hostel, at our room. Naturally this means that they should turn on all the lights - why do people do this?? Use the light of your mobiles, or turn on a light not directly over my head.
They were French, and one of them stunk up the bathroom in the morning. It had no windows, not even a fan. Lucky me.

Hostel in Cardiff from tomorrow. New people, new fun.

In Which I Have a Deliberation Over Which Tense to Use

My name is Hannah - I smell like cheese - Paul's edit. This is what I get for walking away.

Salisbury - Went to Stonehenge, which is quite small close up. It is also packed with tourists, but no one can go into the circle itself so everyone is quite spread out. If anyone has looked at the photos you will notice that I named the rocks after some of you. I told English Heritage but they said that those were silly names for rocks. What's a good name for a rock? Anyhoo, it's kinda amazing to think that people once dragged 12 tonne stones to the top of the hill. There must have been lots of complaining. One can still see the avenues through which the stones were dragged. There are barrows surrounding the site, which some people believe they have the right to climb. Nuts to the preservation of ancient sites, apparently.

Our English Heritage cards got us in for freesies and the bus took us out to Old Sarum as well - a prehistoric man-made fortification from the same time as Stonehenge. It is a terraced hill with three levels - dug using only antlers as pick-axes and shoulder blades of oxen as shovels. There are also the foundations of a Norman fortress atop the hill. The free mead was tasty.

Bath - The YHA was nicer than the Salisbury one and I met some girls who like Yugioh Abridged. One of the YHA staff gave us a map with very good instructions about places to see, shortcuts, good photo spots and some good places to eat. The town was pretty, but seeing the Baths was expensive. The water in the baths is untreated water from way back when, and it is a fetid green colour, thus it is rather unnerving to see people put their hands in it, then put their hands to their noses and lips! A nice town, if a tad pricey. The locally brewed Bath Ales are great.

Glastonbury via Bristol - I cannot imagine why anyone would name their child after this city. Bristol is drab and industrial. We got out of there as soon as possible.
Glastonbury doesn't seem like a place to hold a huge music festival. It's a rather small town surrounded by farmland. It is quite new age-y, and was thus very much to Paul's liking. The abbey has connections to King Arthur and a badger sett (none seen so far). We had our packs so we took turns looking around. While Paul took first turn, I slept in the sun on the grass. Also patted a cute calico kitty. The Tor was atop a high hill, which we climbed with our packs. The view was great.

Exeter - We had planned to go down into Cornwall but, unable to rent a car, we abandoned this plan and went to Winchester instead. We stayed one night in a YHA which was way out in the suburbs and was really simple. Not the best, though I shared a room with only one other person.
What is it with people coming into shared dorms after 11 and just flicking the light on? Chances are, people will be trying to sleep. Be respectful!

There's a guy on the train next to us with a silly haircut. It's like a short mohawk in the middle, but is straightened at the sides and back. The front flops down.

A guy just got on the train. Then he looked around, rushed off the train and over to the ticket office. He spoke to someone there, before walking back to the train. Just as he got to the doors, the train pulled away! Poor bastard.

Winchester - King Arthur's round table! It's actually quite huge and weighs almost two tonnes! There's also an amazing milkshake store here called Shakeaway. And they have Olde Sweet Shoppes, where the lollies are in jars and you buy them by weight.

I thought you said you were married?
- Divorced now.
And the children?
- Dead.
Oh my God, what happened?
- Froze. They froze to death.
Miranda Hart is hilarious!

The one in Which I Pretended I am Up-to-Date

Friday 25 June - Hampton Court: on of King Henry VIII's ol' hangouts. Not a single ghost.

Saturday 26 June - Camden Market. It's a really indie market scene. You are expected to haggle which is weird for me, but I figure that whatever I buy I have to carry - which puts me off spending money. That said I did com away with a snazzy jacket and a new hat for not vry much at all.

Took a train out to Highgate to check out an old cmetery but were distracted by beer and card games. By the time we arrived at the cemetery the gates were shut. That was cool 'cause we didn't want to pay 3 pounds to enter anyway. Instead, we killed an hour, then jumped the fence. See Facebook for the photo of Marx's grave. Saw a squirrel and a fox too.

Sunday 27 - Left London. Took the train to Folkestone, which is near Dover. Picked up by Bea and Mike Auger - friends of Mum who gave us somewhere to stay. They live in Temeraire Heights (EMILY!!) which overlooks the channel. In early morning and evening you can see France. Bea and Mike were very kind and their house was amazing. So nice!

Monday 28 - Day trip to Canterbury - around 30 degrees (86 F). It's an ancient Roman town, and the museum has the foundations of a roman villa, complete with mosaic floor! Liz I thought of you as the only person that I know who might care.

Tuesday 29 - Paul and I left the comfort of Bea and Mike's for Hastings. It seemed like a good idea at the time. It is a chav town with nothing to do, as shown by the high numbers of teenage mothers.

Thursday - I had the worst day. I'm feeling it both mentally and physically. My neck aches and burns. Keeping my temper though.

We did get to go out to Battle on Wednesday, where William the Conqueror defeated Harold Godwinson for the English Crown. There's a brilliant audio guide tour that takes you around the battlefield itself. Found a postcard that listed the top four English tourist attractions - Stonehenge, the Tower of London, Westminster Abbey and an ATM. Very accurate. Bloody expensive being a tourist in England.

Dinner with Aunty Sue and Uncle Harry, and their son and daughter-in-law. Hadn't seen them since 1992.

Today (i.e. Thursday) we tried to escape Hastings. Our directions to a car hire place failed us and we ended up in Rye. It was hot and we were frustrated. We finally caught a train to Brighton, after wasted time and money, in the hopes of finding a car there. No dice. We walked all over town with our heavy packs. I hurt so much.

On a train to Salisbury in the hopes of better fare. Passed through Worthing and Goring-on-Sea for those who care.

Brooklyn Rage!

Disobey at your own Risk

Conversation overheard on the bus in London:

A short, stout African woman, with very dark skin and dressed in purple and orange talks on the phone. She doesn't lower her voice to suit her surroundings, but instead addresses her threats to both the unfortunate person on the phone as well as anyone unlucky enough to catch her eye.

AFRICAN WOMAN:
You go out an' you buy for me the chocolate and the flower - I wan' roses and tulips and the 'oneybirds - all these, everythin' in the flower. You got 'alf a day to get on it. You do it or I'll clap you roun' your fuckin' 'ead.

An' I wan' champagne, the real kind, not dem copies, the real stuff. You got 'alf a day - you spen' your money 'cause you ain't gonna spen' it when you're dead an' you ain't gonna give it to chari'y! I be thinkin' 'bout that champagne and dem flower all day - you don't get 'em for me, I gonna drop you like a piece o' shit. Thass right, I clap you roun' your fuckin' 'ead. You better 'ave 'em by tonight or you in big trouble.


I've never found the wall of a bus so intriguing.

In the Beginning

Ah Memmingen

You know how I don't like to swear? Well fuck this fucking town, its fucking airport and its fucking expensive hotels! Highway robbery!

Ryanair - Germany to London for approximately €65. Airport- Memmingen, Munich.

Actually Memmingen is not a part of Munich at all. Instead, it's a 90 minute bus ride out to a little town on the edge of Bavaria! The airport is so frelling small - it's literally one long room with check in counter on th left, then cafe, departure gates and toilets. The last flight left at 20:15 and then the airport shut. It's fuckin raining too and 10 degrees, or we'd go sleep in a churchyard. So we took a taxi (Gods damn tipping) to an expensive hotel (not by choice - apparently the taxi driver thought it was cheap). There we were swindled - a small room for about €90. It included a breakfast that we couldn't have because we had to leave so early.

All the money saved from the ticket has been spent twice over. I hate you Memmingen and you, Ryanair, with the fiery passion of a thousand suns.
I would take time in a dozen airports over this frelling bollocks.

LONDON
For Fuck's sake, not again. Get into London Stansted, go to ATM, 200 pounds please, okay, checking card, taking money, here you are, card and cash.
Got the card, where's the cash? The frelling ATM took my money but didn't give me any money! That's at least $450 NZ that's no longer in my account! Fucketty fuck.

LONDON PROPER
Took the bus to Liverpool Street Station. Bunnies alongside the motorway! All the houses look the same. Had to kill time until we could head to Peter's flat in the evening, where we would stay for a week. He is an old friend of Mum's and he's a great guy, letting us stay in his place for free.

In town we bought Oyster cards - what Wellington's Snapper is based on - and took the bus to Trafalger Square, past Fleet Street, Oxford Street and Regent Street. Monopoly means so much more now.
There was a Hare Krishna festival on so we had a free feed and Paul came away with some educational reading. He caught up with a friend while I went to a pub for a beer and fish & chips. I watched the soccer as NZ tied with Italy! Second to bottom of th competition tied with the World Champs. Ahaha. I know this is out of date now, but it's still cool (we got more points than them too)!

Watched the Best of Mr. Bean on TV. I love this show. Good ol' England.