Somewhere around 4am, no matter where you are in the world, something happens inside your brain. Your ability to make rational decisions is decreased, usually leading to events such as tabletop dancing or kebab consumption. At high altitudes, the conditions are worsened, which is why I take no responsibility for my decision to watch Beverly Hills Chihuahua. I did manage to regain my cognitive skills shortly after breakfast and, realising the error of my ways, switched to the productive take of journal writing. The other sensible thing I did was to consider my state of dishevelledness and go see what I could do about it in the bathroom.
As a poverty-stricken student, one must always be alert to the opportunities life presents. Take for instance my foolish decision to pack all my toiletries in my checked baggage, yet my fortune in discovering the free toothbrush and toothpaste in les toilettes. I heightened my search for further complimentary items and not wanting to bother the hostess, made the assumption the tiny pillow and acrylic blanket I'd been curled up with were of the same gratus nature.
Food, served in abundance, also comes in convenient sealed packages, perfect for stowing for later consumption. So my jacket inventory now includes, but is not limited to: 2 packets of peanuts, a Cadbury chocolate bar, Chinese New Year chocolate coins, orange juice, a banana smoothie and a sachet of jam. A gourmet feast for the journey to come!
January 28, 2009
January 27, 2009
Up, up and away
The airplane was playing My Way, initially unrecogniseable as it was a pan-flute rendition but deciphered as we sat on the tarmac awaiting an incoming Qantas flight. I don't feel ready to be here, my French is terrible and I don't have enough money... it just doesn't feel like it's time yet. But here I am, on a 3.30pm flight to Kuala Lumpur with 6 empty seats to my right and now the checkered fields on the Peninsula out the window to my left. It's been a long time coming but nerves and a sense of sadness were enough to curb any outward signs of excitement. I even forgot the trashy gossip magazine I had planned, such was my state of mind.
It was an uneventful flight - possibly the most exciting thing was discovering the horrible pressure in my sinuses had dissapeared, closely followed by the second bag of peanuts I received. Oh, and realising I was on the same flight as the French Tour Down Under team was pretty good too.
Disembarking, I asked a girl who looked my age if she was travelling alone - she replied that she was, and asked if I was headed to Paris. When I said I was, she asked if my name was Kate. As it turns out, Collete (who has then same name as my French teacher) used to work at Cocolat and was told to look out for a girl with short dark hair on her flight. I was just looking for a chat but I ended up with a friend in Paris who is fluent in French.
The 4 hour wait in Kuala Lumpur was easy enough with someone to talk to and pretty soon we were boarding our flight to Paris. With the promise of a later visit, we settled 20 rows apart. I was more than a little excited to discover I had 5 vacant seats to myself, but Collete, on her promised visit, found me less than impressed with the large stranger stretched out on 3 of the seats 10 minutes into the flight. We never spoke, the Comfort Theif and I, but after some awkward moments where our feet touched, we silently reached a compromise re: personal space.
It was an uneventful flight - possibly the most exciting thing was discovering the horrible pressure in my sinuses had dissapeared, closely followed by the second bag of peanuts I received. Oh, and realising I was on the same flight as the French Tour Down Under team was pretty good too.
Disembarking, I asked a girl who looked my age if she was travelling alone - she replied that she was, and asked if I was headed to Paris. When I said I was, she asked if my name was Kate. As it turns out, Collete (who has then same name as my French teacher) used to work at Cocolat and was told to look out for a girl with short dark hair on her flight. I was just looking for a chat but I ended up with a friend in Paris who is fluent in French.
The 4 hour wait in Kuala Lumpur was easy enough with someone to talk to and pretty soon we were boarding our flight to Paris. With the promise of a later visit, we settled 20 rows apart. I was more than a little excited to discover I had 5 vacant seats to myself, but Collete, on her promised visit, found me less than impressed with the large stranger stretched out on 3 of the seats 10 minutes into the flight. We never spoke, the Comfort Theif and I, but after some awkward moments where our feet touched, we silently reached a compromise re: personal space.
January 22, 2009
January 21, 2009
World Matters
How will the world change from today? Very topical issue this one, and one I really can't claim to know anything about. But it doesn't stop me from being curious about how it will affect things. Will Australia be ignored as per our Foreign Minister's whinge this morning? Will Mr Sarkozy (French President) be hanging out with Obama? Will he drop in for a croissant? Not sure, but then again I never was one for politics, and this was a good excuse to post an entry today.
January 15, 2009
Don't spend money...
...unless its a cool 'going-away' present for yourself. I bought a Safari Green iPod nano and loaded it with 45 hours of French Lessons. I can get through half on the way to France!
The other great thing is the Phrasebooks you can get for iPod, very handy for travelling and helping out in emergency situations: Aidez-moi! J'ai besoin d'un médecin!
The other great thing is the Phrasebooks you can get for iPod, very handy for travelling and helping out in emergency situations: Aidez-moi! J'ai besoin d'un médecin!
January 13, 2009
A case of déjà vu?
I found a hostel on the Rue de la Fontaine au Roi. I have 6 nights in Paris and I figured I might as well make it worthwhile and stay somewhere as Parisian as possible, within my budget. (There is also the chance I'll be staying on Rue Mouffetard the first two nights.)
Google Street View lets you check out the neighbourhood before you book a hostel in the worst suburb of Paris. A blessing? Perhaps, but it also takes away a bit of the surprise and anticipation... Who am I kidding? It's still bloody exciting!!!
Google Street View lets you check out the neighbourhood before you book a hostel in the worst suburb of Paris. A blessing? Perhaps, but it also takes away a bit of the surprise and anticipation... Who am I kidding? It's still bloody exciting!!!
January 10, 2009
T minus 17 days
It is when you see the world through the eyes of someone who is 'worse off' than you that you realise just how good you've got it.
Being given the chance to study in another country (for the fourth time in my education history) is something that has an effect on you. You end up learning more about yourself than anything else. You take the experiences and apply them in your future decision making, in your perception of your success and in determining your overall satisfaction with your progress thus far.
Sometimes you think you're making sacrifices for future benefit. I thought I was sacrificing something by coming to Whyalla for summer school, to finish the marketing part of my studies. Instead, I realise that I have sacrificed 10 days in a life that is should be considered enviable, to wind up in a place where you simply couldn't harbour jealousy at the expense of anyone who lives here.
You know you're on a bad thing when the police ask you (pardon my French) "why the fuck" you're here. And when its because you're trying to finish your tertiary education, so that you might become employable and therefore a functioning member of society, that you realise it isn't a sacrifice but a blessing to have that opportunity in the first place.
PS: One day, when I have a daughter, I am going to take her to The Spencer in Whyalla to show her how not to behave. I am going to subject her, within reason, to exhibits of misapplied lipstick, white g-strings under white dresses, Slazenger trackpants and sneakers in a 'nightclub', and the ever so wrong fishnets-and-open-toe-shoes combination. Watching feet too big for the heels that groan to support the behemoth dancing upon them makes me cringe in a way that simultaneously reminds me how much class I have considering I was born into an average suburban family. You need not travel far to be so removed from a culture that it almost requires stamps in your passport. Sometimes intercultural communication is just an STD call away.
Being given the chance to study in another country (for the fourth time in my education history) is something that has an effect on you. You end up learning more about yourself than anything else. You take the experiences and apply them in your future decision making, in your perception of your success and in determining your overall satisfaction with your progress thus far.
Sometimes you think you're making sacrifices for future benefit. I thought I was sacrificing something by coming to Whyalla for summer school, to finish the marketing part of my studies. Instead, I realise that I have sacrificed 10 days in a life that is should be considered enviable, to wind up in a place where you simply couldn't harbour jealousy at the expense of anyone who lives here.
You know you're on a bad thing when the police ask you (pardon my French) "why the fuck" you're here. And when its because you're trying to finish your tertiary education, so that you might become employable and therefore a functioning member of society, that you realise it isn't a sacrifice but a blessing to have that opportunity in the first place.
PS: One day, when I have a daughter, I am going to take her to The Spencer in Whyalla to show her how not to behave. I am going to subject her, within reason, to exhibits of misapplied lipstick, white g-strings under white dresses, Slazenger trackpants and sneakers in a 'nightclub', and the ever so wrong fishnets-and-open-toe-shoes combination. Watching feet too big for the heels that groan to support the behemoth dancing upon them makes me cringe in a way that simultaneously reminds me how much class I have considering I was born into an average suburban family. You need not travel far to be so removed from a culture that it almost requires stamps in your passport. Sometimes intercultural communication is just an STD call away.
January 2, 2009
T minus 25 days
You know that saying "You don't know what you've got till it's gone"? Well, it works the other way too - "You don't know what you're missing till you find it".
Or maybe you do know, maybe you read a book or spoke to someone or watched it on TV - Catriona Rowntree exploring some exotic architectural feat, her chest taking over the screen as you imagine yourself visiting somewhere new. The need to explore foreign shores doesn't consume us all, but for some it's more than something you would like to add to your 'Done' list - it's absolutely necessary to acheive before you inevitably become to old to physically travel.
Some people collect seashells. Some collect first edition novels, or model planes or every Barbie ever released, including Festive Season Barbie and Fitness Freak Barbie who comes with a gym bag and slouch socks. Then there's people who collect visas, passport stamps, boarding passes and Delhi Belly. The die hards who hang out for the sale at Kathmandu so they can get 3 thermal spencers for the price of 1.
But unlike some hobbies, you can't collect the whole set. You can't file every experience away in a scrapbook or alphabetise them on your bookcase. You'll never get them all and you'll never be satiated. It is the pursuit of adventure and neverending source of locations that keeps us going, and the exact reason why two small trips overseas is just not enough when it could be 12 months in the middle of Europe.
Or maybe you do know, maybe you read a book or spoke to someone or watched it on TV - Catriona Rowntree exploring some exotic architectural feat, her chest taking over the screen as you imagine yourself visiting somewhere new. The need to explore foreign shores doesn't consume us all, but for some it's more than something you would like to add to your 'Done' list - it's absolutely necessary to acheive before you inevitably become to old to physically travel.
Some people collect seashells. Some collect first edition novels, or model planes or every Barbie ever released, including Festive Season Barbie and Fitness Freak Barbie who comes with a gym bag and slouch socks. Then there's people who collect visas, passport stamps, boarding passes and Delhi Belly. The die hards who hang out for the sale at Kathmandu so they can get 3 thermal spencers for the price of 1.
But unlike some hobbies, you can't collect the whole set. You can't file every experience away in a scrapbook or alphabetise them on your bookcase. You'll never get them all and you'll never be satiated. It is the pursuit of adventure and neverending source of locations that keeps us going, and the exact reason why two small trips overseas is just not enough when it could be 12 months in the middle of Europe.
January 1, 2009
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