Yeh...but you wouldn't care if we became a Republic...would you?

As I sit here in bed in Adelaide with the virus from hell, eating throat lozenges like I would candy and once again listening to "No Doubt" (and not just their new stuff-I'm a fan from way back) I come to my second last blog post *tears up*. I only realise just how big of a journey it really was when I go back through this blog and actually look at how many miles I've covered and how much I've changed. England was my final destination; my "piece de resistance" to top off my trip, if you will. I had friends to meet and have final catch-ups with, places to see, dancing to be done and drinks to down way too quickly. So without further ado, I give you my last blog, beginning as any story should, at the start, with "My day in Durham", with my good friend Eliza.

Durham

As I disembarked my train after a relatively smooth ride into Durham, I was greeted by Eliza and the sight of one of the prettiest and quaintest places I had yet seen. I don't normally describe something as quaint, but that is exactly the word for Durham. With a stunning Cathedral, Castle and Chorister School, set against a back-drop of charming English trees (I can actually call them that in England-HAH), Diagon-Alley esque cobblestone streets and graduating university class (some serious fur-lined academic robes going on there) it looked a bit like a fairy-tale town. After our quick "OMG haven't seen you in AGES" catch-up *laughs* we headed down to the main street area and continued on to the Chorister School to drop my bags in Eliza's room so Eliza could play tour-guide and show me around her home-town.

Walking through Durham

We started out with a quick tour of the school, after which we moved on to the Cathedral. When I say the town is Harry Potter-esque, I mean it; some scenes of the film were actually shot on location in Durham, and so top of my list of "things to see in Durham" was the Cloisters and McGonagall's classroom. I am a bit of Harry Potter fan, so I couldn't help but be transported back into a snowy-winter as I looked over the cloisters and imagined Harry letting Hedwig fly, or for a slightly different memory, Ron throwing up slugs. We then passed McGonagall's classroom, which for the time being was being used as a graduation photo studio. Needless to say the magic wasn't quite as strong with that one *awkward face*.

We made our way through to the cathedral, at that point full of Durham University's graduating class and parents so I couldn't take a really good look at the inside, but believe me when I say it was absolutely stunning. As a "Cathedral Connoisseur" I have seen a few in my travels, but this was truly stunning. Each marbled column inside is carved with a different pattern, the stained glass catches every ray of light and the pews are beautifully made.

Just an ordinary day in Durham

After our walk through of the Cathedral, we made our way through the throngs of graduating students and their families, me wistfully looking at their fur-lined robes wishing my university had something even slightly as amazing down into the town. Once again, as it was the last time we met, we decided that shopping would allow us to see some of the best of the town rather quickly, as it was set around the main old town centre district. Eliza was still looking for jeans (after our two past shopping trips looking for jeans), and I was up for anything really, finding a cute-as-a-button red tartan dress that screamed "London" at me (in a completely non-stereotypical London way) and life was good.

Just a bit picturesque

After a quick lunch we continued on our walking tour of Durham, wandering down past the river and over the picturesque bridges before finding our way into a small, cosy coffeehouse hidden under a bridge (Durham kept turning up gems, what can I say?) for an afternoon break, before we made our way back around the town to the Chorister School, to put our shopping down and decide on where to get dinner.

We ended up getting some brilliant Thai food, after which we had a quick cocktail (last drinks with Eliza for some time!) before grabbing my pack once again and heading to the train station. That night I was to catch a train to Manchester; from there I would take a bus down to London the next morning. I arrived in Manchester late, however had good directions and the hostel wasn't far away, and as such I was settled nicely in my room just after midnight.

HARRY POTTER HALLWAYS!!!!

The next morning I awoke and after a quick breakfast made my way to the bus station. I had prepared myself for a few hours on the bus, but couldn't predict what would happen next. As the bus pulled off the A1 coming into London, it suddenly pulled over to the side of the road and stopped. A minute later, I saw a Sainsbury's "Wagon" (a truck, for those of us in Australia) pull up beside us, and in two seconds took off the wing mirror, bent in both the cargo hold door and the passenger door. Cue: Road Rage. The two drivers showed an amazingly a high level of unprofessionalism; calling each other drunk drivers, swearing like it was nobodies business (how many profane four letter words can you fit in a sentence and have it still make sense?I lost count at "lots".) and almost coming to blows a number of times. After a small while, the bus driver managed to hail the other bus that was travelling in our "convoy" (not really, they had slightly different routes but it's close enough) and we quickly grabbed our luggage and moved onto the other bus.

The view from dinner-Regent's Park

An hour or so late I arrived at the Victoria Street Coach Station, tired and later than I would've liked, but alive and well and happy to be in a city where I could put my bags down and not have to pick them up again for a few days at least. I once again had good directions and, thanks to my Lonely Planet had a nice map of London and surrounds and so made my way into the labyrinth that is the London Underground.

Half and hour later I was walking down the street of a slightly more alternative district of London towards my first accommodation, the Phoenix Hostel. I felt welcome from the start, and would've been happy to spend the rest of my time staying there in London, however their water radiator had exploded and consequently they had no hot showers.

ISSUE.

Now, I like my hot showers-ESPECIALLY in Europe, where the weather tends to be...cold? At the best of times. Maybe an understatement for a summer-loving Aussie like myself. On the day I arrived in London it was a clear, almost warm 24 degrees. According to the wonderful man working behind the bar/desk of the hostel, it was hot enough to "take a cold shower". Mate, I'm from Australia. You won't even get me in shorts for 24 degrees.

Trafalgar Square!

For the rest of the day, I planned and plotted, drawing on my map a'la "Joey" from friends ("It's LONDON baby!!!") and working out what I would do for the rest of the six or so days I was there.
In the evening I went out for a short walk, finding myself a Tesco and eating dinner in Regent's Park whilst trying not to get hit on by a weird older French man, before heading back to the hostel for an early night.

The next morning I awoke and after a short breakfast packed my handbag and set off. I had planned to get to most of the disgustingly touristy sights including Buckingham Palace, Big Ben, The Tower of London and London Bridge.

Olympic fever

First on my list was Trafalgar Square. After a short metro ride I emerged into the bright-ish grey sky at Piccadilly Station, making my way down the road to Trafalgar Square. After my photo stop at the Square, I consulted my map and turned in the direction of Horse Guards Parade and Buckingham Palace, passing the high security surrounding 10 Downing Street and continuing on.

After a short walk I arrived at Big Ben and the Parliamentary Buildings. Surrounded by Tourists (and gagging at the sight of so many high quality Nikon DSLR cameras) I made my way over the road to Westminster Abbey and Cathedral, and then around to Buckingham Palace. Once again surrounded by tourists, I took my photos and then walked back towards the Parliamentary buildings to cross the Thames.

One for the art lovers

After taking my photos and trying to catch a glimpse of any movement inside the Palace (the Royal Standard was flying, so apparently the Queen was home) I made my way back to the Parliament Buildings and walked across the Thames to Southbank. From here, I walked the entire length o the Thames, down past the Modern Art Museum and a VERY good busker playing all sorts of mash-ups on the piano whilst singing, for some reason shirtless (hey, I wasn't complaining) and then down past London Bridge onto the Tower Bridge. I took in the Tower of London and the surrounding areas, before eating a very late lunch overlooking a glorious view of the Thames.

After my late lunch I continued walking. I was catching up with John (who still speaks fluent French) for a drink that evening, and decided to kill time by wandering down Oxford Street and taking in the chaos that was sale season. "Relaxed" is not a phrase that relates to Oxford Street in any way, shape or form. Needless to say I found refuge with a much needed coffee in Starbucks until the evening when I caught the Tube up to Baker Street to meet John. After a beer, he headed off to a family dinner, and taking advantage of the relatively nice weather (it wasn't raining! *laughs*) I once again went and had a picnic lunch in Regent's Park.

Westminster Abbey 

The next day was a charming Saturday morning, and I felt there was no better way to spend it than at the markets.. I have a bit of a thing for vintage and eclectic markets, and so found my way up to Camden Lock, which would come to be one of my favourite places in London.

To get there however, I took the scenic route. I decided that I wanted to walk, and on the map this shouldn't have taken as long as it did. However, following the advice of my lovely friend at the Phoenix I walked around the outside of Regent's Park, past Lord's Cricket Ground and then into the back streets of Camden.

Buckingham Palace

I spent hours wandering through the markets, marvelling at all manner of vintage jewellery and clothes, channelling my inner "indie kid" and indulging in tea and scones when I needed a break. As much as I saw things the I would've loved to buy (and so many things there were!), I was very reserved, only splashing out on a beautiful silver and pearl ring. I do love my jewellery.

Moving on.

After my entire day spent wandering through Camden, I made my way back through Regent's Park, arriving back at the Phoenix Hostel just in time to grab my bags and move to my next lot of accommodation, the Steam Engine Pub.

The Eye

I had decided to move accommodation not because I really wanted to (the Phoenix hostel staff were awesome!), or because it was any cheaper (it's a dorm room above a pub-they're all roughly the same), but I desperately needed a hot shower if I was to get through the next three nights and get onto my flight home. There are just some things you need.

My new hostel was on the other side of the Thames near to Waterloo station, and as I rocked up I was greeted by (my idea of) a stereotypical English pub; deciduous tress, red awnings and a big specials board with Karaoke and pints on a Saturday night. I felt as if I'd really hit London.


I walked upstairs to my room and as I opened the door, was greeted by a familiar sight. As my eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness, I realised that  actually knew the girl sitting on the bed diagonally across from me, as she had been on the same Paddy Wagon Tour of Northern Ireland. We had a bit of a catch-up and then decided that the next day we would go to the Brick Lane Markets.

More Olympic fever on the Tower Bridge

The Brick Lane Markets were slightly different to Camden Lock Markets in that it attracts a wider diversity of people; more of an indie crowd and slightly older, and local rather than tourist, and this really showed as soon as you got to the food hall. Hundreds of different stalls selling everything from falafels to hand made sushi to fresh fruit smoothies to gourmet cupcakes. The range was astounding and I could've had all three meals there if I wasn't so conscious of the calorie intake.

After a good few hours wandering the markets, Carrie and I left and made our way to the Tower Bridge and the Tower of London, a Carrie hadn't seen the two sights yet. However, as we reached the Bridge, being London, it started raining, and as neither of us had proper rain gear, we decided after a little while to go back to the Hostel early and then so something for dinner later.

The Globe

The next day I decided to take it a bit easy. It was Monday, my third to last day in Europe (I had to cross check that fact with my photos-dates on holiday are not something I tend to remember *giggles*) and and I decided to take it easy. I was meeting up with Sam and Fabrice from the Salsa crew in Valencia that night, and I had already seen the touristy sights, so after an easy morning I went down to Trafalgar Square for lunch, stopping in Leicester Square and taking in the M&Ms store (I didn't go in-some gates don't need to be opened) and the many theatres that the square itself is famous for. That night I was off to Salsa with Sam and Fabrice from Valencia, so it was looking like quite a good beginning to my last few days.

I don't normally make such an issue of "the beginning of the last", but whilst I was travelling-and especially in London, I found it difficult not to look around and think "In a few days time I will be back home".

Tower Bridge

The next day I had no plans, so after a quick chat to Carrie in the morning, and meeting some other Australian guys, we decided to hang with them for the day and next night.

The boys were going to Camden, and although Carrie and I had already visited the markets, we tagged along, grateful to get out of the hostel and into the lovely London weather. After discovering the best chocolate and banana crepes (a delicious, guilt treat) whilst the guys explored a rave and disco shop (think fluro, trance and punk) we headed down the street to a shopping centre, as the boys were buying camping gear. Losing interest, Carrie and I bailed out to a bakery down the road buying baklava and a cupcake for Joel's birthday. We spent the next little while in a pub, before the boys went to beer tasting and Carrie, Pierre and I went back to our respective hostels (Carrie had moved the day before) and started packing.

We met again later that night; the boys had gotten back from beer tasting and we were having drinks in the hostel bar around 7. The plans were to have a big "Last night in London" whilst celebrating the big half century-Joel's 25th on the 3rd and Jared's on the 4th. Midnight was going to be a cracker. However, we didn't know if we were going on the Camden pub Crawl or not.

Tower of London-Side View

It turned into serious drinks in the bar as we were joined by a new Canadian friend Leora and traded jokes over cocktails and pizza (London was only slightly diet destroying) before heading to Soho.

We ended up in a packed downtown bar/club, and spent the next few hours dancing, discovering that they did free double shots in our drinks and taking photos on stripper poles (NOT me...) before heading back to the hostel. Our night was far from over however as the shenanigans continued not only on the bus home but when we arrived back in the hostel, and we fell into bed after 4am, finally feeling drunkenly content and ready to leave London the next night.


It says "Brick Lane" I swear...

And so it began, our last day in London. After waking and eating breakfast, I returned upstairs to pack. The guys were all leaving as well, and so the hostel was bustling as people went in their own directions. I met up with Carrie at about 11 and we decided to go for one last trip around London, before we headed over to Elephant Walk to shop for food for the rest of the day. After walking back to the hostel from the tube station, we ended up sitting and chilling in the hostel bar until around 5, when we picked up our packs and made our way to the tube to then change lines and head over the Heathrow. We had thought a little about the time that we would catch the tube, but in the end it didn't matter if we left early or later, we were going to hit peak traffic. After letting two trains pass us we elbowed our way on the third and promptly met an Australian family who were on the same flight as us later on.

In a lovely and unexpected surprise, checking in and dropping our bags at Heathrow was a breeze, and after we went through Customs Carrie and I split up for a while to browse Duty Free, meeting up once again after our gate was called. I was a bit excited as we were on an A380-800 (don't ask) however still found the experience bittersweet.

Just for good measure...

Shortly after 10pm we took off,  and after 5&1/2 months overseas, I was finally on my way home. Needless to say I won't detail the entire TWENTY FOUR HOURS of flight time that I went through to get back to Melbourne, however the flight went well and I was soon touching down first in Singapore and then in Melbourne, to only then catch my final flight back to Adelaide on which I met two lovely businessmen who made the final flight much more pleasant.

I would like to say that there were jubilant scenes as I exited the gate, however as the plane had landed earlier than expected my family (depleted as my youngest sister hadn't yet returned from Cambodia) weren't actually there yet, and as such our reunion happened halfway down the airport terminal as I had just started walking towards the exit rather than wait around at the gate. It was so nice to be back home, and I did feel rather content as I grabbed my bags and made my way with my family to the car (such luxury to be able to drive again! *laughs*).

Well, this should be my last blog. I say "should", because now that it has taken me a FULL MONTH (mega apologies for the slackness) to finish this one, I am tempted to write another, reflecting on my time since I've been home. I admit that I thought it would be difficult to keep a blog whilst I travelled, having failed every time I tried to keep a diary in my life, however now I have to admit that I'm going to miss it. We'll see (I'm smiling goof-ily at my laptop right now *giggles*).

Until next time, whenever that may be,

Love LOVE!

Clem xx

To Scotland!

I pick up my blog posts as I leave Dublin for Belfast and the ferry ride to Scotland that would prove to test me in more ways that one. It's a normal night back in Adelaide; football on the television, "No Doubt" blasting, eating left-over Christmas Pudding and no partying to be done. And no, I'm not kidding. Christmas pudding. As such you can expect more quality musings on my time overseas. So, without further ado, I give you "Bonnie Scotland".

Brilliant.

I hadn't really planned how I was going to get to Scotland. I was taking the ferry that much was certain; however I hadn't booked anything and nothing was locked in. After looking up timetables the night before, I booked a bus that would get me to Belfast in time for the connecting bus to the Ferry, and I would go from there. The bus ride went without a hitch and two or so hours later I was in Belfast booking bus tickets that would take me all the way through to Glasgow central.

Before I got to Glasgow however I had to deal with the Ferry ride. Being completely honest as I am prone to doing on this blog, I will ask you to cast your eyes over my previous blog about Ireland, and take note of the way in which I was farewelled from Dublin. Even considering these celebrations I was feeling fine as I once again set out on my travels-or so I thought.

Token Museum Shot

Now I don't normally have any issues with Ferry rides. I've been on some nasty ferry rides (try the Backstairs Passage from Kangaroo Island to Cape Jervis at 9pm in winter...or don't) and some nice ones (Tangier to Algeciras at 9pm-positively blissful!) however I was pretty confident with my travelling ability over water.

More fool me. It turns out a that good old ferry ride can change your entire outlook on drinking, late nights, travels, hangovers and just life in general, and I spent most of the ferry ride regretting my large breakfast that morning and trying to reverse that dangerous woozy feeling that comes with being horribly hungover on a large boat that feels quite small compared the the waves you're in, in the MIDDLE of a freaking channel.

First stop on the Highland Tour-beautiful streams

Needless to say I did a small happy dance when the Ferry finally pulled into Cairnryan Ferry Port and my feet touched dry land, after the only other small highlight of spotting Newton Faulkner walking through the ship.
A few hours later and I was in Glasgow, complete with the small bus tour through the city to the bus terminal. Thanks to my Lonely Planet I had a map and a good idea of where I needed to go, and I quickly set off with my pack down the hill and through the city to my hostel complex. I say complex because this hostel was housed in an 10 floor building, taking up 8 floors with beds and dedicating the other 2 to a massive kitchen and a mezzanine with a laundry. I had the dorm almost completely to myself, and after a short walk to find the nearest Tesco and dinner, I returned to have a lovely evening with some other travellers whom I had just met.

SAS monument

I awoke the next morning for a late breakfast and a quick skype session with home. My youngest sister was about to leave for a school pilgrimage to Vietnam and Cambodia and I wanted to speak to her before she left (I am a model older sister), after which I set out for a different hostel. I was planning to meet with Miss Eliza (it's going to stick) for the night and we were staying at a different hostel on the other side of town due to it being cheaper over the weekend.

Bus Window Photos. Yeah...

      

Loch Ness

            I arrived at the hostel and checked us in before heading out with my broken but cute umbrella to meet Eliza at Central Station. Her train was late because, of all reasons, there was cattle on the track. For over an hour and a half. Only in Scotland. We quickly decided that the best way to see as much of Glasgow as possible was to shop as the main district is situated around the Shopping Mile (like Adelaide's Rundle Mall if it were on steroids), and set out to find Eliza some jeans and myself a new umbrella.

After a lovely afternoon shopping, we headed back to the hostel with dinner and planning to do. I managed to book the next few nights of accommodation and train travel to Edinburgh, whilst Eliza managed to drink most of the bottle of wine, before we headed out to see if we could find some nightlife to participate in for a while.

We ended up at Buddha, a really nice cocktail bar close to the action on Sauchiehall Street, one of the main and best "nightlife" areas. After discovering that the cocktail of the month was only £3.50 we quickly set about testing the bartenders as to whether they actually knew how to make it (some did, some didn't. We helped to rectify their mistake *giggles* ). After a few hours of talking and drinking and more talking and laughing and some more drinking, we headed back to the hostel and got some sleep. We were both travelling in the morning and after remembering how I travelled after my last night out, decided some semblance of a good night's sleep would be a good idea.

Me. Loch Ness. YES.

The next morning we awoke and after a quick breakfast, packed our bags and headed to Central Station for our train. I had managed to buy a ticket on the same train as Eliza, only she would then continue on to Durham whilst I disembarked at Edinburgh Waverly.

As I disembarked the train I was met with cold, grey weather that quickly turned to rain. I was fully prepared with my still broken umbrella (I'd given up on buying one in Glasgow)
and my removable rain-cover for my pack (that Eliza had found hilarious in light of my lack of personal rain-coat) and as such used the momentary downpour as an excuse to duck inside of tourist information to get a decent map of the city to find my accommodation.

Just a quick "stretch-your-legs" break on tour...

Half an hour, uphill-and then back downhill, in the rain walk later, I arrived at my accommodation, the lovely "Budget Backpackers Hostel". Situated at the bottom of Candlemakers Row, I had to walk down possibly the prettiest and most charming street in my entire trip to get there, W Bow. This is (apparently) the street upon which "Diagonally Alley" was based, and I could automatically see why.
Cobbled stone streets, beautiful little boutique shop fronts-it was absolutely beautiful.

After spending the afternoon wandering through Edinburgh Castle and the Royal Mile and it's...more alternative surrounds (and coming away with a small yet permanent reminder of my time overseas *gives Cheshire cat grin* ) I made my way to a Tesco and bought dinner, heading back to the hostel to cook and catch up on the daily news to the soundtrack of badly played flamenco guitar by the Spanish travellers in the corner of the kitchen. As I st and ate dinner, the kitchen filled up and I was lucky enough to meet Lindsay and Ben, a brother and sister travelling together who were originally from Melbourne. They invited me to a comedy night with them that night and my plans were set.

Glen Coe.Magnificent.

The comedy night was hilarious. We were "conned" into sitting in the front row (after sitting in the second row deliberately so we weren't front and centre) as the MC invited us to all moved forward, and we were promptly interviewed, asked our names ("Clementine? OOO I've never met a Clementine before!.... Why?") after which Ben took the mantle as the MC's victim of choice for the rest of the evening. There were some funny, not-so-funny and downright hilarious moments as Ben juggled the MC's numerous advances, different comedians tried their luck on the stage and I had and impromptu meet up with an old school colleague-proving just how small the world really is.


W Bow

The next day I spent on a tour of the Scottish highlands, taking in Loch Ness (for lunch, naturally), Glen Coe and other small towns and sights along the way. The absolutely incredible scenery accompanied by the interesting commentary from the driver (Highland Tours-highly recommended!) made sure that the day was well worth it and very enjoyable. I woke up just as the driver was putting Lady Gaga on the stereo (WHY!?!) and made my way back to the hostel where I was meeting Ben and Lindsay for the pub crawl.

The rest of the night passed in a blur of beer (or whatever-you-were-drinking) pong, cocktails and loud music, and woke up the next morning feeling less than brilliant, heading straight to "Mum's Diner" for some serious comfort food in the way of a bacon roll, before wandering the streets of Edinburgh and taking a tour of Mary King's Close, before going our separate ways in the evening, the last of my three nights in Edinburgh.

The Castle

The next morning we packed up and after discovering we were all going towards Central Station, caught a quick cab ride down the road and said our goodbyes. I was heading down to Durham for my final day with Eliza of my travels, before continuing down to Manchester for the night. It was the beginning of the end; the start of my final week overseas, and as such I will leave this blog here. London was packed full of amazing adventures, good people and fun times and was the best way to finish off five and a half months of travel that a girl could ask for. Therefore,

Until next time!

Love Love!

Clem xx

I do believe in Faeries! I do, I do, I do!

Today I write from a change of scenery. I won't lie, it had been coming up for a while so I should have been prepared for my re-entry into normality but it still feels weird to be back in my own bed after being away from Australia for so long. Yes, just over a week ago I boarded my final flight back to Australia from London Heathrow, ending my journey of five and a half months. I'm still not sleeping very well (jet lag is not only unfriendly it is an absolute bitch) and trying to get back into things is taking way longer than expected. Enrolling in uni (which I still haven't finished) and organising myself (photos, work, outstanding uni work, actually unpacking properly) takes up most of my time in between listening to "hipster" music loudly on speakers of  quality that I will admit I have missed dearly, watching the odd episode of Community, an outstanding comedy that anyone who's been in a study group will relate to (Arabic class I'm looking at you) and getting it into my head that I won't be travelling again properly for at least another year and a half. Sadness. So now as I sit in the warmth of my home at my desk, I play catch up with my blogs; the beginning of the end, the last of some of the best times of my life.

James, Andrea and I at Silent Disco.

As I sat on the train whizzing through the English country-side towards Durham (I'll get to that story soon!) I was still playing catch-up with my blogs. I’d had a few good train rides and suddenly I was almost back up to date. However, things happened and time moved way too quickly (it's true what they say about time flying when you have fun) and now I'm way out of date once again!

My journey continues as my flight landed in Dublin. As I looked out of the window I was greeted by rolling green hills, grey skies and a very damp atmosphere. I will admit I did think to myself (but only once) “why did I leave Nice and the nice weather again?” however after kicking myself strongly in the head as I walked out into the terminal and hearing the melodious accent of the Irish customs guard and the humorous way in which he stamped my passport (yay! More stamps!) all of those thoughts disintegrated as I remembered why I had wanted to visit Ireland so strongly.

McSwiggans Full Irish Breakfast. So good.

I made my way to the tourist information centre and found out where I needed to catch my bus to Galway and £16 later I was on my way to Galway. My heritage as a Joyce is actually located around Galway so I found it quite nice and a little sentimental that it was my first stop in Ireland.

I made it off the bus late in the evening and started walking in the direction that I though the hostel was in. The reason I say this is because there were actually no street signs that I could see, so I was relying on directions alone. However, I arrived safe and sound if a little damp (my umbrella was broken and I ended up ditching it two days later) at the Hostel to find James sitting in the kitchen surrounded by people. I walked up and met Andrea, his Irish friend whom he had originally met in Adelaide, Ian, a Canadian soldier from Afghanistan and a random German couple. We immediately set off to look for dinner and after a quick trip to Tesco we went back to the hostel, made ourselves dinner and then met up again with Andrea to go out.

The Spanish Arch.

The plan was to go and watch an open-mic night at the local pub. Andrea’s brother was helping to run the night with his friends, and we figured it would be nice to go and have a gander at the local talent. Apparently, according to James, this included us, and towards the end of the night Andrea and I were “asked” to perform (it didn’t matter what) a few bathroom practises of “Make you feel my love” and a couple of pints of Guinness later and we were ready. It went really well and we had the pub in silence which is something that doesn’t happen very often so we were pretty proud.

The night didn’t end after we finished performing; the group of us made our way down to the silent disco at a different pub and danced (or tried to) the night away to different music. I had never been to a silent disco before but can highly recommend them if you’re slightly uncoordinated (not a necessity, but the nature of the beast caters well for you) or just love a good time. You can loose yourself in your own little world and just forget for one moment that you're in a club and instead just laugh and have a good time as if you were dancing around your room at home at some good news.

Party on, Galway...

After the silent disco we retired back to the hostel where drama unfolded (not really, I was just about to scream at a french girl who stole my bed, no biggie) but after a nights sleep in another dorm I awoke somewhat refreshed and ready to greet the slightly overcast, grey Galway day.

After walking downstairs to greet James and Ian, we decided that we would have the first of many diet-destroying meals and headed out to the local pub McSwiggans for a full Irish breakfast, complete with giant lattes and black and white pudding. After some serious eating with a little bit of planning thrown in for effect, we set off on our day of discovery and exploration which included the Spanish Arch and Galway museum. We ended the day once again with pizza before heading out to catch up with Andrea at an arts show "5 ways to drown" which Andrea didn't end up attending. I did like the show (a modern dance and theatre show) however wasn't quite sure what I liked due to the obscure story-line and minimal explanation.

Irish Castle on the way to the Cliffs of Moher

Moving on.

The next day I decided to do a bit of sightseeing. I was in "Joyce Country" and being a bit proud of my roots I decided to take a tour of the Cliffs of Moher and Burren. I had a rather cold and bitterly windy but still lovely day seeing some of the best and most charming country that Ireland has to offer before heading back to the hostel to meet with James and Ian and once again heading out for Guinness, ending up at a nice pub and spending the night singing louder than the acoustic duo playing in the next room and adding a few of our own harmonies.

The Cliffs of Moher-still beautiful shrouded in fog

The next day (if my memory serves me correctly) Ally flew in and we spent the day once again exploring before deciding to spending the night at Andrea's house. We moved back to the hostel the next morning and spent the next few nights there whilst we did a day trip to Connemara and Cong with a group of hilarious American Exchange students. Apparently my status as "the single one" is hilarious and myself and the guy I was sitting next to, Andrew, quickly became the butt of the driver and James' jokes For the entire day. You can imagine my excitement at this prospect.

Connemara!

That night we moved accommodation for the evening after having no luck with a couchsurfer and then set out in search of dinner. We ended up at the same pub that we had frequented over the past few nights and had a lovely dinner before heading back to the hostel (not as glamorous or dramatic as our last hostel) for the evening, as in the morning we were to take a train to Dublin  for a night before heading off on a Paddywagon tour of Northern Ireland.

After a relatively interesting train ride (there were offers to buy myself and Ally from James by a random old man. I'm traumatised) we made our way to the Hostel, Ashfield House, and then set about exploring for the rest of the day, taking in the many sights and districts of Dublin, before retiring to our quarters for a lovely dinner of gourmet sandwiches and facebook.

First stop on the Paddywagon tour

We set off our our Paddywagon tour the next morning, refreshed and ready for the many adventures that the tour would inevitably bring. We set off on a bus comprising mostly of Aussies and before we knew it were headed North towards Drogheda and and Monasterboice before spending the night in Derry, doing a walking tour of the city walls with a local who lived through the civil conflict and of Bloody Sunday. The night was spent on a pub-crawl that was no Portuguese "get beyond the second pub" challenge but still provided many laughs. We spent the next day driving through the rolling Irish country-side on our way to the UNESCO World Heritage listed Giant's Causeway before hopping back on the bus to take us to the Carrick-a-Rede Rope Bridge and on to Belfast. We spent the night in "Paddy's Palace" (don't stay there, it's not very nice) before going out for a tour meal and then heading to a local pub called "Filthy McNasty's". Yes, really.

From the Derry city walls

The next morning we took a Black Taxi Tour of the city taking in the peace walls and all four of the gates separating Protestant neighbourhoods and Catholic Neighbourhoods. These gates are still closed and locked every night from 6pm. After this we went back to the hostel and changed buses (the tour had split into the 3, 6 and 10 day tours) before heading into town for lunch. James and Ally went for the extra-cheap option of sandwiches whilst myself and the rest of the tour group found a nice pub meal with a couple of lunch time ciders before heading back onto the bus to take us to our afternoon activity of the Titanic museum. The museum was well worth the few hours we had providing a good mix of history, the actual sinking and the post-tragedy repercussions and I found some of the stories fascinating. This was the final stop on our tour, and we spent the next few hours on the Paddywagon bus heading back towards Dublin.

The Giant's Causeway

The next day James and Ally flew out, leaving me to my own devices in Dublin for the next day or so before I headed off to Scotland. My plans for the evening included dinner with Andrea, however dinner is never just "dinner". As I arrived at the restaurant where we were to have dinner, I received a text from Andrea saying that she had managed to get our names on the door for a private gig by a band called Kopek. Needless to say we spent the night partying away between the gig and another smaller gig by a band called Arrow in the Sky. The two bands couldn't be more different; Kopek, a rock band who were a mix between Mona, the Kings of Leon and The Foo Fighters (an awesome mix in my opinion-although you could add more band to that mix; check out my favourite song "Floridian") and Arrow in the Sky being a more mellow folk and blues band that I automatically fell in love with.

James and myself on one of our many tours...

The night proved to be a highlight of my time in Dublin and indeed Ireland, and all in all was an awesome send-off from Ireland as the next day I was to find my way once again to Belfast as a stop-over on the way to Bonnie Scotland, Glasgow being the next stop on my itinerary.


As this story ends so does my blog post. Ireland marked the beginning off the end of my time in Ireland, and some of the best and most memorable times of my entire "Post Morocco" Trip. As always,

Until next time,

Love Love!

Clem xx


**Special thanks to James Bird for some of these photos. All of those ones with that vintage-y filter? Yeah, James was experimenting with his "hipster side" and they were the result. Thanks JB!

No don't worry, we have Macaroons...

What can one say about the French Riviera? I pick up my travels as I make my way via train from Milan to Nice on the Sunday afternoon. I wasn’t exactly planning on going to Nice however I was meeting and staying with Ryan and Jean-Yves (see previous posts from Dusseldorf and Berlin); as such the invitation was too good and I boarded the train happy to be getting more chances to eat beautiful French sweets whilst sitting in the sun on the crystal blue water’s edge.

Nice

The train ride itself was marvellous; not only were the views spectacular but the company was fantastic. I walked onto the train and found that I was sharing the cabin with 3 young Italian girls, an Italian grandmother and an Iraqi girl called Dalia. Contrary to every train I’ve taken before (with the exception of the Czech Republic), this carriage was very talkative and friendly.





The boardwalk

Dalia spoke fluent English, the Italian girls were relatively competent and the grandmother none, so as such the girls played translator for the grandmother and we had lovely conversations. However, after the three younger girls left it was just I, Dalia and the grandmother left and the fun really began. I have always found that some of the funniest conversations are those with a serious language barrier, and we giggled as we tried to translate the grandmother’s conversations. We know that she spoke about her family (9 children-or grandchildren we couldn’t tell), taking a very quick scooter ride from Milan to the doctors, the mountains, and fashion. We managed to work out that she said that Dalia’s pants were beautiful and that she liked my Doc Marten’s very much, but then she said something about “not in Milan” and I couldn’t tell if that was "no-one wears them in Milan" or that "you can’t buy them in Milan". Considering neither Dalia nor I spoke a word of Italian we were pretty pleased with our translation efforts and as the grandmother bid us farewell and safe travels as she departed from the carriage in San Remo we did the same and giggled in amazement as soon as the door was shut. Something so small absolutely made my day and made the train trip genuinely enjoyable and the time fly.

Monaco Marina-these aren't even the big boats.

The train arrived late in the afternoon at Gare de Nice and I sat on the main street as I waited for Ryan to come and show me around. An hour or so later we walked up the stairs to the guy’s new apartment and put my stuff down whilst being careful not to mess up JY’s neat row of shoes (don’t ask). After a quick rest we went for a walk down to the foreshore and through the surrounds before heading back to the apartment to rest as both of us were exhausted (mine due to still being hung-over and full day or travelling and Ryan’s due to work). Jean-Yves returned home from work a little while later and we had a quick catch-up and decided what I was going to do the next day before he went to an open-mic night down at the hostel and we stayed in to eat dinner and finish watching “In Bruges” (I had left Dusseldorf before we could finish it there).


Monaco

The next morning we awoke early and I set off. My plan while the boys were at work was to explore some of Nice before heading to Monaco for the afternoon. I set off. My first stop was to find the internet café where I could print my boarding pass and flight details for my flight the next day and check Facebook. Normally I’m not addicted to Facebook, but I was waiting on details of whether I was meeting with James in Dublin or Galway and spending a few days with him and his Irish friend Andrea. After a quick organisational session, I one again set off. Since the weather was stunning (think clear skies, clearer, bluer water and warm, brilliant sunshine) I was planning on soaking it up with a long walk along the foreshore towards the markets before winding my way back through the Old Town and Port area and then grabbing lunch before heading for the train to Monaco.

The Casino

Before I go on I need to note that people watching along the board-walk is actually incredibly entertaining. You get all types and some just make you giggle and shake your head while you try to work out what they were thinking when they decided to do or wear THAT *giggles*.

Moving on.

After my internet catch-up I made my way to the markets. I wasn’t quite sure what to expect but spent a good hour and a half wandering along the alleyway looking at vintage records, prints, all manner of knick-knacks and jewellery as well as furniture and just general antique goodness. After looking at my watch and being mildly surprised how much time I had spent just looking at goods I made my way along the boardwalk for an hour or so before making my way into the small streets of the old town to find myself some lunch. I hadn’t really indulged in French pastries before this point in my trip, and so relished the chance to try some new sweets. After a “pain au chocolat” (chocolate croissant) and an apple, walnut and raisin tart in the sun I set off for the train station.

View over Monaco

Now, a tip for anyone planning on using self-serve ticket machines in Nice: they don’t take monetary notes and cards which need signatures don’t work either. As you can imagine this is an absolute pain in the arse any time your ticket is over 4 euros and as such I missed the first train to Monaco and had to wait an extra twenty minutes until the next. Brilliant.

I arrived in Monaco in the early afternoon and had no idea where to start. As I left the train station walking through the marbled tunnels I wasn’t sure what to think. Incredible, showy wealth is quite intimidating, but I set off anyway and as I walked across the road I was passed by a beautiful red Ferrari. This set the tone for my entire afternoon as I did more people watching and allowed my jaw to drop at the boats sitting in the harbour. Admittedly I found this part of my trip difficult; having lived in North Africa I’ve seen how much a dollar is worth, and (in my humble opinion) no-one needs as much wealth as this place has. I walked up the hill passing the marina and heading towards the Monte Carlo Casino. As I found my way to the front, I was greeted by the sight of about 50 luxury cars; Bentleys, Ferraris, Aston Martins and more. Tourists were simply sitting around watching people arriving and departing the Casino. I kept moving. I wasn’t under time constraints however I the walk had taken longer than expected and I wanted to get the 4 o’clock train back to Nice. I made my way back past the station and up into the hills towards the Palace.

The Palace

As I arrived I caught the end of the change of guards (not the main change, but a small intermediate change) and then continued walking back down the hill back towards the train station. I had passed a cute gelato store and so stopped in on my way back to the train. I was made rather nervous by a random, dodgy character watching me eat (and it wasn’t anything special so this was un-nerving to say the least) so moved on quite quickly.

I arrived back in Nice at around 4:30 and decided that I would track down some phone credit. This was easier said than done. Vodafone don’t actually operate in France, so I had to find their partner carrier and see if I could recharge my phone. After a hour of chasing store locations down, being pointed in other directions and helping a French Woman to translate the Portuguese instructions on the voice recording (and I don’t speak any Portuguese) I had my credit and so decided to keep wandering for a while as the boys were going to be late. I found myself back in the old town and as I walked past another boulangerie I ducked in and bought a batch of macaroons. I took them back to the apartment and met the boys and as Jean-Yves cooked Ryan and I sat and ate macaroons and laughed at for what I can’t remember. We had a lovely dinner of Pork Steaks and vegetables after which we got a little bit dressed up and went out for a walk through the town to have a drink or two and get some “world-famous” gelato. Now I’m not sure if it was worthy of the world famous title, but it was still exceptionally good and we wandered back to the apartment feeling rather satisfied about the night

View from the apartment

The next morning we all awoke, the boys to go to work and myself to go to the airport. I was to catch my flight to Dublin later that day and since the guys were working early I decided to go to the airport and sit and wait. My flight was delayed by a full half-hour (unimpressed Ryan Air) and as such I managed to use the airport Wi-Fi and keep myself occupied trying to book accommodation in Galway and making sure that the plans James and I had decided on were still in motion.

The plane ride went well after we actually boarded, and we touched down to cold, grey skies in Dublin two hours later. As my time in Nice ends so does this blog, and once again,

Until next time,

Love Love!

Clem xx

That's what Lee said!

The journey continues as I left Paris and flew into Milan, arriving in the early afternoon of the 3rd of June. Now I understand some of those reading this from home will be going "Milan? I didn't know you were planning to go to Itlay?" Well, in truth I wasn't. However, after talking to Eliza and James we decided against Scandinavia (very expensive!) and decided on Northern Italy instead. The plan was to fly into Milan and head straight out of the city and stay on the Cinque Terre. I was to fly in on the 3rd, a day before Eliza and James (due to cheap flights) and then meet them at the station to catch a train to Riomaggiore via  La Spezia.

The Duomo in Milan

James and Eliza arrived with James in full “Kodak kid” mode documenting every moment of our reunion with some shaky camera work, and we made our way into the station to find some food before boarding the train to La Spezia. We decided on Burger King, as we were in the mood for something cheap and nasty before our 4 hour train ride. Whilst sitting in the “restaurant” (let’s call it a glorified diner) we made friends with an older Australian couple, who then proceeded to pay out not only each other but at times us, and couldn’t’ believe that my mother not only knew that I was wearing Doc Martens boots but had bought them for me. I love that people don’t expect certain things of me and I can go on to surprise them.

The Castle

We boarded the train late after it was delayed for around 50 minutes (we still don’t quite know why) and were on our way, complete with snacks and good natured joking around.

As such we arrived in La Spezia late and missed our connecting train. Cue nerves. We check the timetable and it looked as if there weren’t any more trains to Riomaggiore for 3 hours (after midnight) but after checking the ticket machines discovered that there was a train at 11, and were incredibly relieved to know that we would be able to get in to Riomaggiore after only a short wait.

Riomaggiore by night

We finally arrived in the Cinque Terre exhausted (we had been travelling all day) and ready to meet our lovely Couchsurfing host Marco (and his friend Claudia) and then head to bed. However, after meeting him it was decided hat we would go out for drinks and a chat instead. Marco had been lovely enough to give us his apartment for the 3 nights we were staying as he was staying at a different house so we dropped off our luggage and headed out. We met Marco’s friends and after a little while moved down to the Port to sit and relax, after a while heading back up the hill to the apartment to sleep. The town of Riomaggiore is perched on the hillsides of a little valley running down to the water and as such, when lit up at night, looked like something out of the guidebooks; perfectly picturesque and romantic, so needless to say we were made more tired but constantly walking up and down the cute maze of little cobbled alleyways and staircases.

Having a coffee before our walk

The next day we awoke relatively early; James played housemother and went and bought breakfast whilst Eliza and I slept in, after which we set off. We had planned to catch the train to the final village of the five (“Cinque Terre” meaning five villages in Italian) called Monterosso, and walk the trail down to the next village of Vernazza, and then take the train back to Riomaggiore before once again walking the trail to another village. We had wanted to walk the entire length of the track, however the trail between the second and third and third and fourth villages was closed due to maintenance. As such when we got to Monterossso we took our time starting out, grabbing a quick pizza and coffee to start our morning before making our way through the village and up into the hills.

One spectacular view

The views were spectacular. The weather had been kind and the day was beautiful; the water was an intense shade of blue sparkling under the mid-morning sun and the hills seemed to be alive in all shades of green. As we walked we passed vineyards and cute little walled gardens before coming across scenery that wouldn’t have looked out f place in Morialta National Park back in Adelaide. It always surprises me how many times I have seen scenery on my travels that strongly remind me of home.

More views

We finished our walk in the cute little town of Vernazza and set about finding a nice place to have lunch. The town itself was once again perched inside a little valley running down to the water’s edge, but was not as steep or picturesque as Riomaggiore (in my humble touristic opinion *giggles*).

We had a lovely lunch of home-made pizza and beer (when in Italy) and then walked around the village for a while, taking in the small tourist shops before making our way back to the train sation for our return tip to Riomaggiore, where we arrived in the late afternoon.

Riomaggiore at sunset

We were supposed to have lunch and spend the afternoon with Marco  however we were late and so after sitting at the beach in the sun went looking for him to get the keys to the apartment so we could leave our bags there before walking the last leg of the trail between Riomaggiore and Manarola The search was unsuccessful and so we began walking in the sunset down towards the next village. As we went we walked through the Gallery, a semi-enclosed tunnel, the walls of which were covered in graffiti by love-struck locals and travellers. We then came upon the rock walls, covered in chicken wire and padlocks reminiscent of the Hohenzollern Bridge in Koln.

Just a beautiful sunset to top it all off

Arriving in the Village we found a little pub in which to have dinner, and it was decided that we would settle in for a while. The pub itself was warm, cosy and lively, as there was a small space for musicians set up in the corner who then played country and roots music for the rest f the night. The food was incredible; tasty bruschetta and amazing cold beef salad with wine topped of a fantastic night.

The next morning we had decided that we would do a day trip to Pisa and Eliza and I hadn’t seen the Leaning Tower before. We set off early after James once again played housemother and bought us breakfast, and boarded the train for the quick trip to Pisa.

PISA

Once there we made our way through the town reaching the tower around lunchtime, and quickly setting about amusing ourselves by “pose stalking” other tourists, and seeing how many great poses that were supposed to be with the tower we could get on photo without the tower. This provided the background for many fantastic laughs as we tried to capture the silliest looking people on camera. After doing this for far too long (it was quite amusing) we made our way to a restaurant to use the free wifi and grab a bite to eat before making our way back towards the train station to return to Riomaggiore for the night.

We had planned to eat dinner out at the restaurant where Marco worked, however had no clue what we were in for. We boarded the bus that would take us to the restaurant Burgadicampi, and as we went were met with stunning vies back over the coastline towards the Village and out over the water. We arrived at the restaurant to see only a bar, but as we walked down the hill our jaws dropped. The restaurant was perched on the hillside with amazing coastal views and we drank wine ate amazing food as the sun set over the water. The night went late and Marco ended up driving us home in the restaurant van after which we went out for more drinks with Marco and friends.

The four of us at dinner

The next morning we packed up and headed off; the plan was to go to Reggio Emilia and spend the night before heading back to Milan for the weekend. James thought he had found gold with cheap student accommodation in Reggio Emilia; it turned out all he had found was the centre of the previous week’s earthquake and we arrived slightly nervous about sending the night in an Earthquake zone. We ended up having a lovely time in the city (there was a lot of wealth concentrated there) and the accommodation was quite lovely in the end.

A bit arty-the view from dinner.

The next day we boarded the train to Milan excited about the weekend. James had a friend flying in to meet us from Hungary and we were planning to party it up once he had arrived and settled in. 

Needless to say we spent the next 48 hours in Milan drinking wine, exploring the city and just generally enjoying the lovely weather than we had landed in. We went to a fashion and costume museum, walked around the gardens, saw the castle and ended our trip with a night of karaoke and cocktails; however only James and I took part in the former of the two (and I even then only after some stroong convincing!And a mojito...)

The next day we parted ways. Eliza and Lee (James’ friend) flew out;; Eliza back to Durham and Lee to Hungary, whilst I had to catch a train on the next part of my journey and James stayed in Milan an extra night before flying to Dublin (but that’s another story!). As this part of my journey ends so does this blog post, however I'll have my next destination up very, very soon (going through a big "public transport blogging" phase *giggles*).

Until next time,

Love Love!

Clem xx