Moving on

Time to move on from the Island…

I booked a tour through a company called Aus-travel to spend three days travelling from Adelaide to Melbourne down the Great Ocean Road. Leaving at 6am in the morning. Done. I thought. 

It was only when the comfirmation  email came through and it said, The ‘Groovy Grape’ bus will collect you from the station…ah! 

Groovy Grape. The one company I’d been warned not to travel with by a fairly young friend, because they were a ‘young and lively’ company…

Oh shit I thought. I’m spending the next three days on a cramped bus, sleeping, eating and drinking with an alcohol mad savage bunch of party animals who probably have an average age of 21 and one thing on their befuzzled minds…

Too late. It was booked. 

Reluctantly I packed my suitcase, wondering if not for the first time if I’d needed the surplus contents. And suddenly the safety of the Island seemed very comforting. 

Sure enough the very next morning my Aunty delivered me directly into the hands of the Groovy Grape tour guide. His early morning enthusiasm was enough to make me dump my bags and run all the way back to the Island. 

But no such luck. I was aboard. The tour guide and I waved my Aunty off and my innate sarcasm kicked in. We were off to a great start. 

Sleeping pills

Air crew don’t come to work to die…

This mantra kept me sane and I actually enjoyed my flight! Enjoyed it! Quite the shock. Emirates new and very space age big double decker was an absolute dream. What a big bastard! I was concerned if it would get off the ground and if Jennifer Aniston had found her shower but as I wasn’t allowed up to first class I never answered that question.

Being physically strapped to a chair and made to watch back to back movies whilst being constantly fed small packets of alarmingly tasty little treats was actually quite fun. The most stressful part of my trip was running through the the airport in Dubai still wearing my flight socks in about 40 degree heat. It’s harder to find your connection there than you’d think and I had a horrible moment where I could see the stairs I wanted to be on but couldn’t get to them, much like David Bowie in Labyrinth.

Movies I rated; We Are Friends (total surprise – really loved it  Zac Effron is a thing of pure perfection) Suite Francaise (wanted to see it for ages and glad I have now) and Amy (another surprise and very well edited). I’m sorry Helen Hunt I have no idea what happened to you in your surfer movie I just couldn’t concentrate or care enough by then to get to the end, the last three movies all a blur.

So I’d made it all the way to Adelaide, SA.

So I posted…

Here I am! I posted. And if you’re reading this then the first one can’t have been that bad.

Ok! So my other problem with writing this blog is that I’m going somewhere where half the civilised world (or maybe 95%?) have already been. Oz, Aussie land, Down Under…I mean it’s hardly original. How on earth can I make this interesting? Well, I don’t think I’m your average backpacker: Number 1. I’m nearly 40 (I imagine the average age of the Australisian backpacker is about 21) Number 2. I’m neurotic, paranoid, and generally high maintenance and that’s just what my friends say. Number 3. I passionately hate spiders and all large bugs (which are anywhere near my sleeping arrangements). Number 4. I do not own or wish to own a back pack and finally Number 5. I’m not really sure I want to go now…

Why is it that at my age you start to worry, stress and become overly cautious about travelling ? I know it’s not just me because I have discussed this with a friend. It’s like all the carefree days of your twenties are suddenly erased and you can only focus on all the things that can go wrong. Refer to point 1. above. It’s for the young. The flight for instance – absolutely petrified. Fortunately I have a well seasoned friend who has worked as a trolley dolly for many a year and her advice stayed with me throughout the 24 hours of arduous sitting down that actually is all flying is ‘you’ll be fine as long there isn’t a terrorist attack’ good advice and I clung onto this during the journey…

 

 

 

Where to start?

At the beginning I suppose…

‘I think they’re incredibly self indulgent, I’ve literally never read one and never want to’ were the words that crossed my lips barely two weeks ago as I stood in a kitchen in Devon. ‘You haven’t read our blog then?’ said my friend. Awkward pause. ‘Er noo’ I said and that’s how it started…

Six months ago I booked a trip to Australia when my boyfriend dumped me and my best freind (flat mate and all round partner in absolutely everything) told me she was moving out of our home and going travelling to India to ‘find herself’…but I’ll get to that later.

I am of course writing this slightly retrospectively…(is it possible to be slightly retrospective?) mainly as predicted I could not get this to work and it lost my first draft and I have had to wait for a suitable moment to start all over again. But also who is going to read this? Who am I writing it for? That’s my problem with blogs who will be interested in my rhetoric ramblings? Being massively insecure I’m pretty sure no one will read it…should I just give up now?!

And so here you find me with my finger hanging over the ‘post’ button…to post or not to post?