#first location is melbourne. just wanted to check how early that would be for me. we're good 👍

[moonchild-in-blue]

Oh, why am I checking the times? No reason at all haha. ha. ha.

[chickensarentcheap]

Never Gonna Be Alone- Chapter 56

Title: Visitors

Warnings: profanity, slight angst

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @miss-smutty, @tragiclyhip, @ocfairygodmother, @ocappreciation

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28860450/chapters/80479972

He dreams of one of his tours in Afghanistan. Two years into his time with SASR and his platoon imbedded with local friendlies; two dozen militia members that hated The Taliban just as much as the rest of the world and wanted a hand in bringing them down. He’d only been thirty at the time and already considered a seasoned veteran; several deployments into active and heavy combat, scars left behind from gunshot sounds and where shrapnel from roadside bombs had embedded into his skin. He’d felt as if he were eighty years old; shoulders weighed down by the horrors he’d seen and the things he’d had to do. No longer flinching when he had to take the life of another, but still feeling nauseous and when confronted by the bodies of those tortured and mutilated at the hands of terrorists. The healthy, the disabled, women, children; no one was safe from the brutality and it wasn’t uncommon to pass corpses in the streets or drive through bombed out towns.

Threats were everywhere; he’d long ago learned to sleep with a gun underneath his pillow. His instincts and senses sharp and keen and always on high alert; ears pricking to the howl of the wind or the rustle of rocks or the stirring of sand. Actual rest was a rare commodity for younger soldiers, but he’d become used to bedding down in the earth; body accustomed to the hard surface beneath him and his head not minding his rucksack as a pillow.

Three days had been spent navigating through rough terrain despite brutal elements they’d been faced with, and on the fourth night they were able to find refuge in a cave carved into the mountainside of the Tangi Valley. On their way to Mazar-i-Sharif; a well known Taliban stronghold. There they and the Afghan friendlies would attempt to take back the city; hoping and praying that they’d have enough weaponry and ammunition to wipe the enemy forces out. And that their own death tally wouldn’t be too high.

It was the first time he’d been afraid while with the SASR; warned that even with success, the chances of getting home alive were extremely unlikely. His wife had been pregnant at that time. Three weeks away from delivering his son; experiencing difficulties because of her own stress and worries revolving around his health and safety and his whereabouts. There’d been close calls already; snipers in the mountains, ambushes with rocket propelled grenades and tanks. His hyper-vigilance had been on high alert; every strange noise or shift of the rocks jarring him awake and seeing him reach under his backpack for the handgun he’d hidden underneath it.

He feels it now; the presence of someone standing beside him. Hears it; the soft breathing and the slight rustle of clothes. And he acts on pure instinct; hand sliding under his pillow and waiting for his fingertips to come in contact with the barrel of his Glock. Its absence sending his fear into overdrive and immediately instilling panic; eyes snapping open as he bolts into a sit and both hands shoot out to grab hold of the threat.

“Hi daddy.”

He blinks rapidly. The dream quickly evaporating and the cavern of sand and rocks dissipating; replaced by the wall of windows that provide a view of the darkened backyard and the glow of the space heater located in the far corner. Swallowing down the bile that sits in his throat, he briefly closes his eyes; using a forearm to clear perspiration from his forehead.

“Are you okay?” Addie inquires as she stands at the side of the couch. Clad in her favourite pair of unicorn themed pyjamas; Franklin the stuffed koala tucked under her arm, dark hair mussed from sleep.

He finally manages to gain control of himself; senses registering the familiar surroundings. “What are you doing?”

“I got up to go pee and then I wanted to snuggle with you and mummy in the big bed, but you guys weren’t there. I know I’m not supposed to come downstairs by myself while everyone is sleeping, but I was worried and I wanted to find you.”

“Are you okay? Did you have an accident in your bed?”

“Nope. I made it in time. I was scared; when I didn’t find you and mummy in your room. I thought maybe you left us.”

“Why would we leave you? You guys need us. We’d never do something like that. We love you guys way too much to ever leave you.” Reaching out, he gently cups the back of her head in his palm. “You know that, right? That mummy and I love you guys so much.”

Nooding, she tucks Franklin under her arm and she balls her hands into fists; rubbing vigorously at her eyes. “Why are you guys down here? Why aren’t you sleeping in your normal bed?”

“Mummy and I were up late. Talking.”

“About what?”

“Stuff.”

Addie tilts her head to the side. “What kind of stuff?”

“Stuff that mummies and daddies talk about. That little ears don’t need to hear.”

“So scary stuff? Or stuff with lots of swears in it?”

“Just stuff you don’t need to worry about.”

“Were you talking about…” she taps a finger against her lips. “... my birthday party?”

“You have a birthday coming up?”

Giving a dramatic huff; both hands find her hips and a pout curves her lips. “Daddy! You know my birthday is soon. February thirteenth. The day before Valentine’s Day. How could you forget that? Your own kid’s birthday! Your favourite kid!”

“I’m teasing you. I didn’t forget your birthday. I could NEVER forget it. Ever.”

“Mummy said maybe we could go to the koala place again.”

“That’s where you went last year. And the year before.”

“It’s my favourite place in the whole world. Mummy said to ask you. If we could go there. She says it’s up to you because you’re paying AND driving.”

“If you want to go to the koala place, that’s where we’ll go. Or we could go to the one in Melbourne; fly down and make a weekend of it.”

“I don’t want to fly. I don’t like it. It’s scary. “

“Since when? You’re fine with it when we go to Disney World.”

“That’s because I know I’m going to see Belle and Ariel and Snow White and Moana. That makes it worth it; being scared to death and worried the plane is going to crash.”

“The plane is NOT going to crash.”

“You don’t know that. Can’t we just drive to the koala place we always go to? They know me there. The koalas. They’ll be happy to see me.”

“If that’s what you want to do, we’ll do it. Now….” he reaches out and clears messy strands of hair away from the sides of her face and out of her eyes. “...why are you still up?”

“Isn’t today when we go to the American Girl store?”

“Yeah, but not for a while. Not for a LONG while. It’s still dark out. What time is it? Grab my phone. Check it”

Snagging the item in question from the cluttered coffee table, she presses the button on the side to make the screen come to life. “It says it’s six zero two.”

“Addie….” he groans and presses the heels of his palms into his eyes. “...it is way too early to be up, Peanut. Sun’s not even out.”

“Can we have breakfast? And then when we’re done it’ll be time to go to American Girl?”

“Baby girl, we’re not leaving until eleven. So even if we eat really slow, it’ll still be hours away. Why don’t you go back upstairs and lie down. See if you can fall back asleep for a bit.”

“I don’t want to go back up there. It’s too dark and I used up all my courage coming to find you and mumma. What if something chases me up the stairs? And catches me?”

“Where’s your monster spray I made for you? You all out?”

“I forgot it. In my room. That’s why I had to use all my courage to come find you. I’ll go back up there if you come with me. And snuggle for a bit.”

“I got a better idea; climb in here and snuggle with mummy.”

“And you?”

“I don’t snuggle.”

“You do too. Why are you so embarrassed to admit it? Snuggling is nice. It feels good. It makes your heart happy. It’s never a bad thing when your heart is happy.”

“Yeah,” he smiles, and lightly ruffles her hair. “It does. Come on; get in here.”

“I’m too tiny to get in.”

“You can make it. I know you’re like a spider monkey; I’ve seen you scale the fridge and the cupboards trying to get to things. Come on, hurry up.”

Tossing Franklin over the top of the sofa, she glances around the room; a fingertip pressed against her lips as she considers her options for assistance in getting to her final destination. Electing to push the coffee table over; groaning and grunting dramatically as her tiny body puts all the effort and strength it can in getting the heavy wooden object into place. Climbing effortlessly onto it and then slinging one leg over the top of the couch and then another; sitting on top of it with a victorious, proud smile that spreads from ear to ear.

“I did it! Daddy I did it! All on my own!”

“I knew you could do it. You just had to think about HOW you were going to do it. You’re crazy smart, you know that?”

“Not as smart as Tanner.”

“Nobody is as smart as Tanner. Not in this house anyway.”

“Not even you or mumma?”

“Definitely not me. But your mumma comes pretty damn close.”

“Mumma’s pretty smart. I mean, she has to be right? She fell in love with you.”

He grins. “You’re smooth, you know that?”

“I learned that from you. I’mma lie with you for a bit, okay? Then snuggle with mum.”

Nodding in agreement, he pulls the sleeping bag back and then he places his hands on her hips, steadying her as she slides down the back of the sofa and then plants herself on his stomach. Both arms wrapping around her tiny body as she stretches out along him; lips pressing against her brow as he head settles on his collarbone.

“It’s like a nest,” Addie enthuses, as he covers them both with the sleeping bag. “I like it. Maybe we can do this at home sometimes.”

“Maybe.” A tiny hand reaches up to brush against his beard, and he turns his face into it and kisses the palm.

“You need to shave, daddy.”

“Last week you said you liked my face like this. What gives?”

“It’s getting TOO bushy. I can’t see your face. Why you want to hide your face? It’s a cute face.”

He frowns. “Excuse me? I let you into the nest and you treat me like that?”

Addie giggles. “Sorry. I know it’s worse than a swear to you. You let mummy call you cute.”

“Sometimes I let her get away with it.”

“Well, I’m a mini mumma so that means I should get be able to get away with it too.”

“Your logic is actually pretty sound. I can’t argue with it. I’ll clean it up when we get home; thin it out, get my hair cut…”

“Don’t shave it off though. I don’t want you to have NO hair. I don’t think it would suit your face. If you were bald like Grandpa Koen.”

“Short, but not too short. Sound good?”

“I’ll agree to it. Mumma would NOT like it; if you got rid of all your hair.”

“She definitely wouldn’t. Speaking of mumma, let’s not talk so loud okay? Mumma didn’t sleep well last night; she needs her rest.”

Addie lifts her head from his chest. “Is she okay? She’s not sick is she? I don’t want mumma to be sick.”

“She’s not sick. Just tired. She hasn’t gotten a good sleep in a while. So let’s help her do that, yeah? Help her get the rest she needs? So she can take care of you guys? Be the mumma she always is? Can you do that? Help her get some sleep?”

Addie manages a nod; chin tucked into her chest and tears sparkling in her eyes.

“Hey…” he brushes her dark locks away from the side of her face. “...what’s wrong? Why are you going to cry?”

“Are you sure she’s alright? Are you sure mumma isn’t sick? That there isn’t something wrong with her?”

“Peanut, I am one hundred percent sure there is nothing wrong with her. She’s just tired. She hasn’t been sleeping well and she’s trying to catch up on what she’s lost. That’s it.”

“Are you sure, daddy? I don’t want mumma to be sick.”

“Mumma is NOT sick. She’s just tired. Would I lie to you?”

“No. You don’t lie ever. Maybe sometimes for your job because you have to, but never to us. OR mumma.”

“You need to trust me, alright? She’s fine. Just really tired. And that’s why we need to help her; keep our voices down and let her sleep. Make sense?”

Addie nods.

“Don’t cry. There’s no reason. Come here…” Laying a hand on the back of her head, he presses a kiss to her forehead and then draws her back down to rest upon him. “....mummy’s okay. Just sometimes, she gets worn out. She does a lot. For you guys, for me. She just needs to recharge her batteries. That’s all.”

Addie frowns. “Mumma doesn't have batteries. She’s human. Like us. She IS human, right?”

“Sometimes I wonder if she is; considering how awesome she is and how much she loves and takes care of all of us. But yeah, she IS a human. It’s a figure of speech; needing to recharge your batteries when you’re really, really, REALLY tired.”

“You promise she’s okay?”

“I promise. I would never, ever lie to you, Peanut. Mummy’s okay. She just needs some rest.”

“Alright,” she relents, and once more lays her head upon his chest; her eyes closing as his fingers repeatedly comb through her hair. One of her hands finds his right ear; softly pinching the top before her fingertips begin a slow and repetitive caress of the outer edge. Both she and Millie had adopted the same self soothing technique when they were just babies; the thumb of one hand shoved firmly in their mouths while the fingers of the other either stroked his ears or twisted at his hair.

“Addie?”

“Daddy?”

“I need to ask you something, okay? About when you get upset. Like you did just know about mummy. Is that okay?”

“That’s okay.”

“When you get like that, does it make you feel any different? Is there a change from how you normally feel?”

“Whaddya mean?”

“Inside of you. Does anything different go on? When you get worked up like that, do you notice anything weird or funny or strange going on? Like in your stomach or your chest or your head or…”

“It hurts a bit,” Addie admits. “Like someone is squeezing my chest really tight. And my heart goes really, really fast and my tummy gets all butterflies in it. But not good butterflies; like when you meet someone beautiful and fall in love with them. Bad butterflies; like I’m gonna throw up. But I don’t.”

It’s the last thing he wanted to hear; yet another one of his kids showing telltale signs of mental health issues. Apparently running rampant through the family thanks to the combination of parental genes; moderate to severe anxiety issues, neurotic tendencies, feelings of panic and fear, episodes of mild to severe depression. He’d hoped that none of them would ever have to battle those kinds of demons; praying to whatever higher power existed -if any- that they’d be spared and their lives filled with nothing but love and light and the most trivial of problems. The guilt is quick to set in; blaming himself for the ‘fucked up, messy genes’ that have been bestowed upon them; a father with a lifetime of trauma and severe mental health issues that bears the titles of alcoholic and drug addict.

“Is that bad?” Addie inquires, and when he glances down he notices the worry that darkens her eyes and lines her face; deep furrows across her brow and the pout capturing her lips. “Am I sick? Am I going to die? I don’t want to die, daddy!”

“You’re not going to die,” he assures her, and tightens his hold on her. “And you’re not sick. It’s pretty normal. A lot of people feel that way. I know I do.”

Her face brightens at his confession; the joy of sharing something -even anxiety- with him and the relief that she isn’t alone in her struggles. “You do?”

Tyler nods. “Quite a lot, actually.”

“That’s part of your brain stuff? Feeling like that?”

“It’s one part of it. One of MANY parts.”

“Is my brain sick too? Is it sad like yours?”

“I don’t think so . I think it’s just something you’re going through. It’ll probably go away as you start growing up.”

She scrambles into a sit. “What if it doesn’t? Will I have to take medicine like you do?”

“You know what, how about we only worry about that IF it happens? Let’s see how it goes, alright? As you get bigger. But if things get worse and you start feeling like more and more and it’s getting stronger, you have to tell me or mumma okay? It’s important that you tell us. Will you promise? That if things get worse you’ll tell me or mumma?”

“I promise.”

“Good girl.” Laying a hand on the back of her head , he gently pulls her closer; pressing a series of kisses down the bridge of her nose. “Mumma and I need to know; if you’re feeling stuff like that.”

“I promise I’ll tell you. I won’t keep it a secret. Can I ask you a question now?”

“Can you lie down and ask it? Because it’s still really early and we still need to get some more sleep.”

Nodding in agreement, she once more stretches out along him. Side of her head resting on his collarbone and her fingers immediately reaching for the chain around his neck; rubbing the pendant -engraved with his and Esme’s zodiac symbols- between her thumb and forefinger.

One palm rests in the middle of her back as the other softly strokes her hair. “What do you want to ask me?”

“What did Austin look like?”

“What?” He gives an uncomfortable laugh; the mere mention of his son’s name tightening his chest. It’s creeping up on him; Addie’s sixth birthday and the anniversary -just three weeks later- of the death of his first child. Some days he doesn’t think of Austin at all; his past life nothing but a faded memory as he enjoys the new one that continues to play out in front of him. Other days the grief is profound; ripping at his heart and clawing at his throat and making his sorrow nearly unbearable. He wonders if it will ever go away; if he’ll wake up one morning and realize that years...decades even…have passed by without being haunted by his son’s demise and his horrible mistake leading up to it. “Where’d that come from?”

“I had a dream. He was in it. He didn’t say his name or anything and I don’t know what he looks like, but I KNEW it was. He was at our house. In Australia. And he was playing with us; chasing us in the sand and throwing us into the water and helping look for rocks and shells and sea glass.”

“Was he a little boy or…?”

“No. He was big. Older than Millie even. A teenager. He looked like you; he was tall and he had your eyes and muscles. Not as big as yours, though. Little ones. What DID he look like?”

“He looked a lot like TJ. Blond hair that was always kinda messy. Blue eyes. Same nose. Ears.”

“That means he was cute then. ‘Cause Tyler’s cute and he looks just like you and you’re cute so…”

“You realize you’ve called me that twice? In less than an hour?”

“It’s a compliment, silly. Mumma said you can be cute AND a bad ass. At the same time.”

“Well if mumma says it, I guess it’s true.”

“Austin was just little, right? When he died?”

“He was. He was six.”

“I’m going to be six soon. Does that mean I’m going to die too?”

“No, Peanut. It doesn’t mean that at all. It has nothing to do with turning the same age. Austin was sick and the doctors couldn’t fix him. There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re healthy. VERY healthy.”

“If he was six when he died and you met mummy four years after that…”

“He would have been ten when I met your mum. And I met her almost thirteen years ago.”

“So he’d be…” her eyes narrow and she chews on her bottom lip. “...twenty-three now.”

“That’s pretty damn good; you figuring that out. You’re pretty smart.”

Addie beams. “Like mummy.”

“You’re like mummy in so many ways. And that’s a good thing. A VERY good thing.”

“If Austin never died, would he have lived with his mummy or with you and my mummy?”

He doesn’t have the heart to tell her that if Austin hadn’t passed away, the life she knows wouldn’t even exist. SHE wouldn’t exist. Had his first born son never been diagnosed with cancer and had lived a healthy life, he would have never gotten into the job; he would have stayed in the military and made it his career and would have never had a reason to even think about the ‘job’, never mind actually getting into it. And although his first marriage still would have fallen apart for many reasons, his path never would have crossed with Esme’s. Meeting her had only taken place because of his choice to become a mercenary; his enormous guilt and regret and immense sorrow pushing him in that direction.

Addie couldn’t handle hearing it; the cold, hard truth. Not even at fifty years old, never mind only five. She’s remarkably different from his other girls.; tiny and dainty and sensitive to a fault. Prone to easily having her feelings hurt and bursting into tears if someone so much as raises their voice at her or casts an angry or disappointed look in her direction. Millie and Brooklyn are ‘harder’. Boisterous and fearless and ‘rough and tumble’ ; never blinking under the often harsh teasing from their brothers and never flinching when they’re scolded or punished. They’d never needed the amount of coddling and physical contact that Addie craves; always needing cuddles and kisses and unabashedly seeking them out whenever she craves them. The others hate the idea of being ‘babied; fiercely independent and not needing the level of attention and reassurance that their sister does. And it’s a welcome change; the one little girl that he can dote on and spoil and treat like a princess. Something he -of all people given his sheer size and physical prowess and often intimidating nature- had never known he wanted; something so bright and beautiful that needs him almost as much as he needs them. She keeps him grounded and ‘light’ in ways the others can’t; her purity and her innocence infectious, her giggle and her smile and the way the word ‘daddy’ sounds coming out of her mouth doing wonders for his aching body, mind, and soul.

“He probably would have lived with his mum,” he says, fingers lightly dancing over her silky, dark hair. “And come to visit us.”

“He had a good mum? She was good to him?”

“She was VERY good to him. She loved him very, very much. And he loved her just the same; they were really close. Did everything together. Because I was away a lot.”

“When you were in the military?”

He nods.

“Was she as good as my mum?”

“Peanut, I don’t think there’s anyone in this world that is as good as your mum. Your mum is pretty awesome. She’s been through a lot of stuff in the past twelve years. Stuff that would have scared other people off. But she hung in there and she made things work even when I thought they might fall apart. And she had all you guys; all seven of you. That’s something. That’s a lot of babies.”

“No one is as good as my mum. No one. She’s pretty and she’s funny and she always gives us hugs and kisses and stops whatever she’s doing to pay attention to us. And she does fun things with us. Even when she doesn’t really have the time to do them. She just stops everything and gives us whatever we need. And she has fun doing it. Spending time with us.”

“Your mummy loves you guys so much. You know, there was a time she thought she wouldn’t even be a mummy. And I think that’s why she gives so much of herself. Why she’s always willing to put everything else aside for you guys. Because she never thought she’d have kids. And now she’s so happy she does.”

“But she had to have help, right? To have us. You had to help.”

“I played a little part in it.”

“What did you have to do?”

“Things that you’ll find out when you’re older. MUCH older.”

“How much older?”

“I don’t know…” he presses a kiss to her forehead. “...thirty? Forty?”

She giggles. “Daddy! That’s way far away! I need to know before that.”

“I’ll decide when you need to know those things. Until then? I’m going to keep you locked in your room. So no boys can get to you. Or girls, if that’s the way you wanna go.”

“Like Rapunzel,” Addie muses. “She was locked in her room. But her parents were mean and that’s why they did it. You and mumma aren’t mean. You just don’t want me meeting someone and moving away.”

“That’s EXACTLY it. I don’t want that. I want you to stay little forever. Exactly how you are right now. The one that still wants me to cuddle her and still likes to spend time with me.”

“I’ll ALWAYS want daddy cuddles. And to spend time with you. Why wouldn’t I want cuddles? Why wouldn’t I want to do things with you? You’re my daddy. I love you.”

“And I love you. So much. So very, very, VERY much.”

“If I’m going to be like Rapunzel, I better start growing my hair faster.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “You better.”

Abandoning the chain around his neck, her fingers move to the tattoo that graces the left side of his throat. “What was her name?”

“Who?”

“Austin’s mummy. What was her name?”

“Why so many questions? Especially about this stuff?”

“I’m just curious. What was it? Her name?”

“Her name is Sarah.”

“That’s a pretty name. Not as pretty as Esme, though.”

“No. It’s not. But you and I are a little biased, so…”

“Just a bit,” Addie agrees. “What does she look like? Does she look like mummy?”

“Nope. She’s totally different than your mum. She’s tall and heavier and more muscley. Blond hair. Green eyes.”

“She sounds pretty. But no one is prettier than mummy. NO ONE.”

“I have to agree there. I don’t think anyone else is either.”

“Was she nice? Austin’s mum?”

“She had her moments. And speaking of moments…” he lightly pats her bum. “...the moment is long past for you to go back to sleep for a while. So you’re not too tired to have fun at the American Girl store.”

“I’m not sleepy though. I’m too excited to be sleepy. I get to spend the day with you. All by myself!”

“And you know what? I’m excited about that too. But I’m also very tired and if I don’t get any sleep…”

“You’ll be really grumpy. Like a bear with a sore asshole.”

Laughing, he clasps her face in both palms and presses a kiss to her lips. “I think you sometimes listen to your mum TOO much. Do you think you could try? To get some more sleep?”

Addie nods. “I’m going to lie down on the other side of mumma. So she’s in between us. Then we can both snuggle her, okay?”

“I think that’s a great idea. Be careful though…” he lays a hand on her hip as she gets to her knees and begins the gingerly process of climbing over her mother without disturbing her. “...don’t fall on her, kick her, knee her, anything like that, okay?”

“I’m careful. And smooth. Like a ninja.”

Crawling under the sleeping bag, she settles herself on her side between Esme and the back of the couch. And he watches silently as the five year old’s hand begins softly exploring her mother’s face; gently fingertips moving across her forehead and over her eyes and along the bridge of her nose. So much love and adoration written all over Addie’s face that it brings tears to his eyes and causes a lump of emotion to settle in his throat.

Esme stirs; soft whimper followed by a groan of disapproval. And he rolls over onto his side and moves closer to her; lips meeting the back of her head as his hand rests on her hips. “It’s alright, baby. It’s just Addie. Climbing in with us.”

“Okay…” she mutters, and her eyes flicker open.

“Hi mumma,” Addie greets, her smile spreading from ear to ear.

“Hi little bug.”

“Daddy said I could sleep here. You’re in the middle so we can BOTH snuggle you. Alright?”

“Alright. I can’t think of anything better; stuck in the centre of a daddy and Addie cuddle sandwich.”

“Go to sleep, mumma.” Addie presses a kiss to her mother’s lips, then snuggles into her as tight as she possibly can. “Daddy and I got you. We’ll take good care of you. Right, daddy?”

“Right,” he agrees, as his hand slides to his wife’s stomach. Palm pressed against where he imagines his unborn child could be resting; safe and secure in the confines of its mother’s body. And he leans in to place a kiss on her cheek, whispering “I love you” into her ear before burying his face in her hair.

***** She busies herself with household chores; two loads of laundry to wash and dry, suitcases that still need to be packed, a sink full of dirty dishes. The house is oddly quiet; Addie and Tyler gone for their trip to the American Girl store, Desi taking the others out shopping and to lunch and a movie. It feels odd to have no commotion going on around her; no flurry of activity, no little voices all shouting for attention at the same time, no video games blaring from the television in the living room. And while the silence and the lull should fill her with a sense of peace, she finds it even more distracting; enabling her brain to go into overdrive and allowing her to dwell on the mountain of worries that are plaguing her.

It’s a welcome relief when she hears the front door click open and her sister’s voice shouts out in greeting. Both dogs snapping out of their naps and rushing towards the visitor; the loud jingling of their tags against their collars accompanied by their raucous barking. And she laughs just minutes later as Riley’s arm curls around her neck, pulling her backwards into her sister’s much taller frame.

“What are you doing here? I thought you and Shaena were playing tourists today?”

“Way too damn cold!” The red head grumbles. “And you can’t enjoy yourself when there’s that much white shit on the ground.”

“It’s kinda weird; growing up in Colorado yet complaining about the temperature and the weather here. New York City has nothing on Snowmass.”

“Are you kidding me? It’s a dry cold there. Here? Damp as fuck; you feel right into your bones! And the wind? Why is it always so windy here? Isn’t that supposed to be Chicago?”

“I think you’ve just become completely spoiled,” Esme muses, as she presses a kiss to her sister’s forearm and then turns her attention back to the sink of soap suds and dirty dishes in front of her. “Moving to Australia totally turned you from snow bunny to beach bum.”

“Was the lifestyle change I desperately needed and didn’t even realize it,” Riley admits, then plants a noisy kiss on Esme’s temple before stepping alongside her, fetching a towel from the countertop and starting on an already full rake of plates, bowls, silverware, and cups. “What happened? Dishwasher broke?”

“The dishwasher is full. Because we have been so caught up on laundry and putting Christmas shit away and packing to go home, that we never even gave it a second thought. So sadly, I have to do it the hard way. Like the pioneers did.”

“Well thankfully, you still have electricity, running water, and flushing toilets. You do, right? Have flushing toilets?”

“When Takota isn't shoving things that shouldn’t be shoved down them, they flush just fine.” Sighing, she drops her head to her shoulder; using the latter to push wayward strands of hair off her brow and away from her forehead.

“You sound a little...stressed.”

“You think? I’m just a little...oh I don’t know...overwhelmed. I’ve still got shit to pack, I’ve got to confirm our flight plans, I’ve got to somehow pick up the girls’ dresses for the wedding between now and Saturday morning, and I totally forgot to make a hair or nail appointment. So yeah, I am just a tad stressed.”

“Not to mention you've got a little Australian hot cross bun cooking in the oven.”

Her hands still within the soapy water as she glances over at her sister, both eyebrows raised. “He told you?”

“Well, I suspected and asked. He just confirmed it. Did you know he’s already got that goofy, proud as hell, daddy to be grin going on? For a guy that only had to put in five minutes of effort…”

“Don’t ever let him hear you say that. There’s no insult quite as damaging to his ego as that. And in his defense, he puts in more effort than that. A LOT more. He’s a very willing, extremely talented, and selfless participant.”

“I do NOT need the gory details, thank you. Bad enough I’ve come over and he’s been wandering around butt ass naked. Outside.”

Esme laughs. “That’s just the way he is. He has no fucks to give. Not to mention, we’re pretty secluded where we are and we’re not used to people just showing up. If you’d used the front door like a normal person and not come down the beach…”

“I thought I’d be perfectly safe. I wasn’t expecting to see my brother in law in all his naked glory.”

“You’re lucky it’s only happened that once. Tyler’s known to strip down when he’s out there. At least four to five times a week. He’s in his own little world and there’s no one around to bother him; if he’s dirty from working on the land or he’s been surfing, he’ll just whip his clothes off and use the outdoor shower. To be honest, he’d probably whip them off in front of a crowd of people. He literally does not give a shit.”

“Well, I’ll give credit where credit is due. Even though I do go for the ladies, I was pretty impressed. It’s only fuelled my all time burning question, though. How does he NOT break you in half? I mean, you’re so tiny and he’s so….not tiny.”

“We manage. Although sometimes I wonder if he IS going to break me in half. But in all fairness, that’s my fault. I’m the one who tells him to kick it up a notch and who likes it…”

“I do NOT want to hear this. I know you’re a kinky little thing, but I don’t need the details. If you say it’s fun, I believe you. And it MUST be. You’re still satisfied with the same dick after almost twelve and a half years.”

“I have zero complaints. Nothing but praise, believe me.”

“I remember the old Esme. The one that got bored of guys really quickly and sent them on their way. I mean, other than Tyler and he who shall not be named, you’re not exactly known for being a long term kinda of gal.”

“Never met anyone that could hold my interest long enough. People I dated? All they wanted out of me was purely physical and I longed for something more than that. They just weren’t the type that I could get that out of. Not everything is about sex, Ry. I don’t quite have the resume that you do.”

“I keep forgetting; you’ve always been more into finding someone that’s soul food and not just good for the body.”

“You make it sound like there’s something wrong with me. When you say it like that. I’m not some kind of freak because I didn’t bang everyone that showed interest. I was just looking for more than that. And the people I was with? They bored me. And if they weren’t turning me on in every way…”

“You wanted both clitoral AND intellectual stimulation.”

“I guess that’s one way of putting it.”

“Kind of funny Tyler fits that bill. He’s not exactly the intellectual type.”

Esme frowns. “He’s not exactly stupid, either. He happens to be very smart, Ry. Way smarter than anyone gives him credit for. Why do people think he’s not? I fucking hate that; people underestimating him like that.”

“Okay...that’s not what I was doing…”

“It’s like people hear what he does for a living or look at him and think he’s stupid. They see the size of him and the muscles and the scars and the tattoos and they think doesn’t have two brain cells to rub together.”

“Me-Me, I do not look at Tyler that way. I never have. I was just teasing. I didn’t…”

“He’s not a dumb ass, alright? I know he has his issues; with his brain. And I know things are starting to slip; his short term memory is getting worse and he’s got some cognitive things going on and he sometimes doesn’t make the best decisions. But he’s a good man and he’s a great husband and an even better father and he’s not stupid! He’s not...he’s….” She tosses the dish rag into the sink and brings soap covered hands to her face as she bursts into tears. “...fuck...these fucking hormones!”

“Hey...hey…” Riley peels her sister’s hands away from her face and uses the dish towel to dry them. “....what’s going on? What…?”

“I am so overwhelmed. I’m not doing well with this. At all. Accepting this.”

“Accepting the baby or…?”

“Everything. Everything is falling apart, And I’m trying so hard to keep it all together and I’m worried I won’t be able to do it for much longer.”

“Okay, you need to take a breath and start at the beginning. I know things are pretty damn scary right now and having another baby wasn’t exactly on your radar, but…”

“Things are getting worse. With Tyler.”

“What things? Between the two of you? With his mental health issues? Esme, give me something here. Please.”

“With his brain injury. I know the doctor said that things could start to deteriorate; short term memory, cognitive skills, temper. Even his handwriting is getting worse. And he gets confused so easily; even with the most simple things. There’s times when he’s talking and he just stops and it’s like he can’t come up with the words. Sometimes he manages to remember them, but other times it’s like his brain just won’t let him. And then I see it; in his eyes. How it frustrates him. And how worried he is.”

“Have you said anything to him? About all that stuff?”

“I’ve tried. But he doesn’t want to talk about it. He’s scared. I know he is. I know when to back off; when not to push things. And if I push it…”

“What about his doctor? The shrink. Have you talked to him?”

“I sent him an email. He said we’ll talk in the new year. He’s away on vacation.”

“Listen…” Riley places her hands on Esme’s shoulders. “...I know it’s hard not to read into things and it’s even harder to calm down when someone tells you to, but you need to calm down and not dwell. All those things you mentioned? They’re not necessarily signs that things are getting worse. I know I’m not a shrink, but I am a nurse and I would not lie to you about this. You know that, right?”

Esme nods.

“Tyler’s been under a lot of stress. The last five years have been sheer and utter hell. And the business is really picking up and yeah, he’s struggling with his bipolar and PTSD. He’s been overworked and overwhelmed and all those things? It’s very possible it’s just how the stress and the fight with his mental health are making him act. There is no guarantee this is a sign that things are deteriorating.”

“Really?”

“Really. And I think he realizes he’s in a little over his head and that he needs help so things DON’T get worse. Would he have called me if he wasn’t thinking right? Me-Me, his brain is working just fine. He went into protective hubby and daddy to be mode right away; he stepped it up and he admitted he needed it and he called me. That isn’t a man who’s losing it. Not by a long shot.”

“He actually did surprise me,” she admits. “When he told me he called you. I expected him to dwell on things, you know? Tyler has a tendency to do that; he always has. But he didn’t even hesitate. He outright admitted he needed help and went looking for it. And that’s a big step for him. That’s huge, actually.”

“It is. That shows he’s progressing, not regressing. And look how well he’s been dealing with other things; how well he’s been running that business. It’s like a well oiled machine. Look at the rep he has; he’s got clients pouring in, he’s got umpteen people wanting to work for him. He’s obviously doing something right or none of that would be happening. He’s doing so well, Esme. Especially considering everything that happened to him five years ago. And I know you love him; more than you love yourself. I also know you worry about him. But right now? You need to try and calm down and concentrate on yourself. And that baby you’ve got in there.”

“I don’t want to lose him to this. To his mind. I don’t…”

“There is nothing saying that is going to happen,” Riley gently interjects. “The things you’ve noticed? Stress can do all of that. Especially to someone whose brain is already vulnerable.”

“When I think of losing him, I think of the job. I think he’ll go out there one day and someone will kill him. I’ve almost kind of relegated myself to you, you know? That if old age doesn’t kill him, a bullet probably will. I mean, he’s a mercenary. I married into this life. And honestly, I’d rather lose him that way than his brain deteriorate and watch him slip away.”

“Esme…” Riley firmly clasps her sister’s face in her hands. “...listen to me. I would not lie to you. About anything. But certainly not about Tyler. I don’t see what you’re seeing, sweets. I don’t.”

“You don’t live with him. I see it. I’m not making this up.”

“I’m not saying you’re making it up. I’m saying maybe you’re reading too much into it. We all know that you can be a little neurotic…”

“I’m not being neurotic. I see these things. That’s my husband. The father of my kids. I see what’s happening to him.”

“I think what you’re seeing isn’t as bad as your brain is telling you it is. I think you’re stressed and you’re overwhelmed and your brain is making a bigger deal out of things than it needs to. Do you really think the business would be this successful if he was losing his mind? Do you really think he’d be able to step it up and take care of you and those kids? Do you think he would have recognized he needed help and called me?”

“No…” she sniffles. “...I guess not.”

“Sweets, you need to just try and take it easy, alright? I highly doubt things are as bad as your brain is making them out to be. Considering everything he’s been through and everything he’s been dealing with? Tyler is functioning very well. You have to admit that; that he has surpassed every doom and gloom bullshit those doctors gave you.”

“He has. He totally proved everything wrong. And he keeps proving them wrong. Every day. He’s so strong, Ry. He is the strongest person I have ever known. And when I think of a life with him being that way …”

“Then don’t think about it. You’re your own worst enemy, you know that? Esme, he is fine. Do you really think if something was going to go wrong with the brain injury, it would have taken almost thirteen years?”

She shakes her head.

“It would have already happened. You see how well he’s doing. How far he’s come. He’s fine, Me-Me. I think you’re overwhelmed and you’re tired and you’re worried and it’s just making things seem worse. You need to take it easy, alright? It’s not just you to worry about now.”

“This is the last thing I expected. Another baby. I mean, I’m forty-two years old.”

“That’s not exactly old. Women are having babies into their fifties these days.”

“Yeah, well they’re fucking insane. Number eight, Ry. EIGHT. Knowing my luck, nine too.”

“I highly doubt it’s another set of multiples.”

“What if there’s something wrong? Because of my age? What if…?”

“Then you deal with it. You’re not in this alone. You’ve got an incredible man in your corner. Who loves you so wholly and completely. Right to his very soul. If any couple can raise a baby with issues, it’s you guys. Look at everything you’ve been through together. Everything that would have destroyed weaker couples. You guys just kicked ass and kept going on. And that’ll happen again; if it has to.”

“I just worry I won’t be good at that kind of thing. Being that kind of mom.”

“Esme, you ARE that kind of mom. Look at Tanner. All his issues. Look how you’ve handled that. How you stepped to fight for what he needs and what will help him thrive. You’ve gone to bat for that kid over and over again and you and Tyler are raising him to be an amazing self advocate. You already ARE that mom.”

“I never thought about it that way,” she admits. “I guess I don’t think of TANNER that way. I don’t look at him and see his diagnosis. I just see him. I just see Nugget. And how well he’s doing. I mean, he struggles and we have to help him from time to time, but he’s done way better than we expected him to. And every day he gets more and more amazing.”

“Because of how you and Tyler are raising him. Don’t you see that? He’s doing that well because of the mom and dad he has. Because you two love those kids with everything you have. And there’s nothing that stands in your way when it comes to providing for those kids and making their lives incredible. Give yourself some credit, okay? You are a good mom. A damn good mom.”

“Sometimes I think I am; that I’m doing alright. But then Millie comes along and totally blows that out of the way and makes me feel like a shit mom.”

“Millie is also two years away from being a teenager,” Riley reasons. “An asshole teenager, at that. She is her father’s daughter; she’s stubborn and she’s tough as nails and she does not give an inch when she thinks she’s right about something. Hell, she doesn’t even give it if there’s proof she’s wrong.”

“She hates me. She’s hated me since she was six years old and I lied to her about Tyler being hurt and in the hospital.”

“She doesn’t hate you. You’re her mother. You know what she IS doing though? Holding a grudge. Because like I said, she’s her father’s daughter and she’s stubborn as fuck. Probably even more stubborn than he is. And I bet the old puberty monster is howling on the doorstep and that’s only going to make things worse.”

“She’s starting to develop. Told Tyler the other day she needed to get a bra.”

“Oh shit…” Riley can’t help but snicker. “...that must have gone over well.”

“I think he aged ten years in about thirty seconds. That was NOT what he wanted to hear. That’s his little girl. His first daughter. His miracle baby. The thought of her having boobs and getting her period and boys paying attention to her? He just can’t handle any of that.”

“Well, he doesn’t need to worry too much about the boys. They get out of hand? Millie will kick their asses herself.”

“Yeah,” Esme laughs. “She most certainly will.”

“Now…” Riley loops her sister’s hair behind her ears. “...your ever adoring husband called me about an hour ago and asked me to come over. Take care of the things in the house that you’re so worried about. Shaena’s out shopping and she’s going to get someone to come here and do your hair and your nails the morning of the wedding?”

“Really?” Tears well in her eyes once more. “She’s doing all that?”

“The girls’ hair too. It’s all taken care of, alright? And she’s going to pick everyone’s dresses up and bring them here. So that’s a few things off your list already. You know what else he told me? That you didn’t sleep well last night. And he’s worried. Already in protective daddy to be mode. So, I’m here, and I will cross off whatever I can on your to-do list. Alright?”

“You don’t have to, Ry. You don’t…”

“I want to. You’re my sister. This is my family too. And when things need to get done, we step up and we help each other out. How many times have you and Tyler done that for me and Shaena? When we’ve been working or we’ve gone away and the kittens need to be looked after? You guys always step up. So, we’re returning the favour.”

“Thank you. I really DO need sleep. And Desi won’t be back for a while; he took the kids and Alannah shopping and to a movie.”

“That means you have time for not just a nap, but a long, hot bubble bath. Unfortunately, you can’t have your usual glass or two of wine with it.”

“Glass or two?” Esme scoffs. “More like the whole bottle some days.”

“Sadly, you can’t indulge. I could make you a tea. Bring it up to you?”

She nods. “Tea sounds perfect.”

“Everything’s going to be okay,” Riley assures her, then pulls her into a tight hug. “Things happen for a reason, right?”

Esme laughs. “You’re sounding like Tyler.”

“Well what can I say?” She presses a kiss to her sister’s cheek. “The Aussie’s starting to rub off on me.”

[thejosh1980]

“My Daughter”

I'm really tired.

Even though I sleep well most nights, I'm still tired. Sometimes the whole day.

I'm still trying to find my routine. For sure, at 08:00 each morning I'm driving Mum to school and picking her up again at 15:00...

Other than that, it's all about whatever I can do to keep myself occupied... Look for work, think about my career, visit a friend, take Alex for a drive, clean the pool, swim in the pool, check the surf or think. 

Today's been a thinking day..... I miss my dog.

It's a very long story, one that I wouldn't want to bore you with the finer details of, but in the end, I was once a proud father, but now my 5 year old baby is with her mum in Dresden and I am here in Ocean Shores.

I miss her every single day.

Some days are worse than others. I can't go a day without thinking about her. She was my life. There's usually 2 questions that roll around in my head...  “what is she doing/feeling now, without me?” and “what would we do together if she was here?”.

I well up thinking about these questions, and usually distract myself immediately so as not to cry.

My ex and I agreed early on we wouldn't post pictures of her or discuss/post about her online. We wanted something private just for ourselves. That decision was made back when I was touring a lot and we had plenty of fans around.

I don't know if that rule applies to me now, and while I do want to respect my ex's wishes (our wishes), I also feel that I should write something down, document my feelings and try to process this... Writing has helped me with a few things so far, why not with my grief?

I guess in the end, I have to get used to the idea that she's no longer my dog. 

I mean, I never had any official paperwork with my name on it saying I owned the “property” that was our dog (how could I? It was all in German anyhow!!!). Officially, I have no say in where she lives and who she lives with.

In fact, I didn't want a dog at first. I've always been scared of them... Terribly afraid because when I was very young, our own dog (in Melbourne in 1984-85) scared the living shit out of me too many times... So I have always had reservations about dog ownership...

That was until the little brown ball of fur came into my life... I loved that little puppy like my life depended on it.

Although I may not be registered as her father, I love her like one.

I am her Daddy. I always will be.

I trained her, I took care of her, I loved her. And I was very proud to do so. She is amazing...

I trained her to skateboard, paddle board and hang with me in the studio (yes, I even have videos of her singing along with me). She could travel all over Europe with me, visit any number of famous locations and take it all in her stride. She's walked Venice, urban swam in Bern, had tourist photos at Checkpoint Charlie and been photographed by more Japanese tourists than I can care to remember...

I taught her how to give hugs on command. She'd pull me in and wrap her little paws around me, it was the sweetest hug anyone could ever get... I miss them...

She is a real beautiful talented little girl...

But maybe the most important thing was, what she did for me.

When “my daughter” came into my life, I had just stopped drinking (6 months earlier). I was still trying to find the new “me” in a world where all my friends and band members drank regularly around me. I was fine with everyone drinking.... However, if anyone who has stopped drinking (or doing drugs) knows, when that crutch is no longer in your life, when you have nothing to hid behind anymore, you learn more about yourself than ever before...

She gave me love, strength and courage to do things I was scared or worried to do... She gave me reason to live...

If this was an AA meeting, I'd say she was my sponsor.

I received unconditional love no matter how bad I felt in a social situation that made me uncomfortable. She looked up to me for guidance, and in doing so, guided me to feeling more comfortable in my uncomfortable skin.

I wasn't afraid to go places when she was with me. I wasn't worried about what people would think, or how I would feel or think... I was happy because she was by my side, and she surely was happy having me take her places and give her treats.

We were a great team...

Now that I no longer have that team, that partnership, that unconditional love, I hurt.

I worry if I can do anything without anxiety anymore. Can I step out of my comfort zone without her??

Well surely I have come along way in the past 5 years. Still ain't drinking, still learning all the time how to deal with my inner struggles. But without her, it feels harder... I struggle without her constant love and companionship.

I never thought in all my years, that a dog would be so important to me... She still is...

The last time I saw her was in late June. I decided to take control of how and when I let her go free. I arranged my dearest and trusted friend to meet with us, and I could pass “my daughter” over... And my friend could walk her to my ex's place.

The idea of passing her over directly, that would have been too much... I couldn't do it. It was hard enough just to pass her to my friend. It took a long time, a hell of a lot of tears (in public no less). The idea of giving this beautiful thing away hurt me to my core.

It still does.

She knew something was up. She was quiet and attentive. She could read me like a book... I tried to say “goodbye”, but the words could barely come out. I know I said “I love you” as often as my tears would allow.

When I made the decision to leave Europe, I knew I'd miss a lot of people and places. I knew I had to give up a lot of things... At that moment, that day in June, it all came to a head.

If, at the time, I was still on the fence about moving, I'd have stayed... I wouldn't have been able to let her go (I still haven’t)... But as all the plans had been made, and I knew my Mum was waiting for me, I had to do it. I had to keep moving forward... No matter how much it hurt...

My last image of my girl is her walking away with someone we both trusted. (she has the sweetest little butt). I ran after them down the street (crying like a fool), but she didn't look back.

She didn't know that was the last time she'd see me... How could she, she's a dog! She doesn't understand... But I do... And it hurts to think about how she feels without me in her life.

I have not had a photo or an update since... It's been 4 long months...

I wake up everyday wondering if my ex would see things my way and send her to me... Maybe she'd have a change of heart, or maybe her circumstances have changed... My ex knows I'm waiting... 

Hope is the last to die...

Originally I wanted to write an update on how our new life down here was going, but I can't get “my daughter” out of my mind, so I figured I'd write about her... Maybe in a few days I can express more about our life here, but for now, my beautiful four legged girl is all I can or want to think about.

I cried while writing this, and I'll cry again if I have to proof read it again (so I’ll get Alex to do that!). 

The sense of loss and sadness is overwhelming.

I just want to process this pain and replace it with love and happiness for our past... I really want to smile when I think about her, and laugh about her silly ways, but I’m not ready... I realised now, I still have more grieving to do... 

I hope writing things down helps...

Thanks for reading,

Josh

[chrysaliseuro2019]

Monopoli 1

We got to Monopoli around 3.30 with various stops and the fun commenced of looking for somewhere to stay. We had a couple of booking.com leads but wanted to check them out first. It’s always difficult when you get varying reports or in fact consistent ones but they say the same good things eg host very helpful and friendly but say nothing too much about the room eg might say clean and tidy but leave out “small”. You tend to look for what they may not have said rather than what they have said. Photographs of rooms a bit like photos of houses for sale always look a bit more glamorous and larger than they are in real life. So we approach this with a healthy level of dubiousness.

We had one lead in particular and after driving around the back streets for 20 mins or so trying to get close to it, with no luck, we parked up in what seemed like a residential area but 50 metres or so from the start of the old town. I stayed with the car as no parking signs and no markings on the street which could be a good or bad thing. Monopoli is one of those towns that has a residents only section by car and we were unsure if we were in it. Fines can be hefty if you transgress.

Liz headed off using google maps to locate the B&B. They were not responding to the phone. While she was gone I kept looking at booking.com and located another good possibility not far away from place 1. Liz called feeling very frustrated. Even on foot it was difficult to find. She was though very euphoric about the town saying how pretty it was. Luckily place No2 responded via phone and I arranged for the host to meet Liz at the property. Probably 45 mins has gone by by now. I am now in regular phone exchange with the guy (alessandro). They met up, Liz liked the property and 15 mins later they both rolled up at the car on foot. All in all probably an hour and half has gone by but we are in.

Property is in the old town. A small one with three units in it. We trundled the cases around there probably a good 10-12 minute walk with Alessandro’s help. Temperature was early 30s but felt like late 30s and we were glad to arrive. Really quite modern and spacious room. A bit more than we would like to pay but Alessandro told us where to free park so that saved some dosh. Also smack bang in the action perhaps about 200 metres from the main piazza though we face out to sea so quite quiet. From our window we can see the local fishing boats in the little harbour. Very pretty and tranquil.

We immediately took to Monopoli and decided to stay another day so booked for two. He did ask if we would like to book for 3 but we weren’t sure as time in Italy slipping away. It didn’t take too long though for us to feel convinced and later that evening we decided to make it a third night. Alessandro gave us a variety of eating recommendations for seafood, meat, varied cuisine and pizza. The ones we went to turned out well.

After showering we headed into town to explore. Didn’t get too far as we found a nice little outdoor bar looking out to sea just around the corner and planted ourselves. In one of those bizarre coincidences the couple sitting just behind us in the bar with a son aged around 11 were Aussies. Very interesting lifestyle, they live in Warsaw and he is a chef and previously had worked as a chef at M on the Bund restaurant in Shanghai owned by Melbournite Michelle Garnaut. They have been out of Australia for quite a while in fact their son was born in Shanghai. She is a marketing executive at the international school in Warsaw and previously was the same in Shanghai. Just when you think most Aussies live the same sort of lifestyle as you. We had a pleasant chat about Poland, China, Australia and holidays amongst other things. He also recommended a restaurant which they had been to where they had enjoyed the seafood. We decided we had to go there he was a chef after all.

We wandered around town for a while and booked the chef’ s recommendation for Wednesday night (it was closed on Tuesday) and also Alessandro’s seafood restaurant recommendation (Il Guazetto) for the following night. Funnily enough the Aussies were eating there as we booked. It looked like we were stalking them.

Just had to sort out tonight. We looked at a few places and were thinking Pizza. After drawing a blank at one of Alessandro’s recommendations, as we did not want to sit inside on a hot night and all outside tables taken, we went to another - Ai Portici. Pretty solid without being gourmet. Also thought that we are pretty spoiled for good pizza in Melbourne especially around Carlton/Fitzroy way.

A really pleasant evening and we had a stroll around soaking up the atmosphere. It’s one of those pinch yourself locations. Nowhere near as frenetic as some of the places we have been though plenty of people floating about. We were also to come to think that this must be one of the most difficult places to navigate on foot. Only locals can drive in the old city but it is a veritable maze of narrow streets. They often lead into cul de sac little squares where the locals might be sitting out on the steps or chairs nattering to each other. You get the impression that they would prefer we didn’t intrude. They never really offer a greeting first or ask you if you are lost ( I guess that’s obvious). They just look at you as you beat a retreat and carry on with their natter. Don’t blame them really. One thing we came to think was that this place would change over the coming years and we were glad we were here now.

Next day was a very relaxed start. Our accommodation is a large one bedroom apartment though with kitchen facilities and eating area downstairs shared with the other two apartments (kitchen - what’s that? - we didn’t trouble the facilities). Breakfast is included in the tariff. That is available at the restaurant right outside our front door which is in a small piazza. We really liked the guys who ran it. They had helped Liz located the premises on Day 1 and were good fun to chat to and very pleasant. One of them had lived in Sydney for 11 years but was now back home to run the restaurant with his brothers. He had retained his permanent residency though and wasn’t ruling out returning. He confirmed our suspicions that the town was undergoing rapid change with more and more people seeking to rent out their homes which obviously diminished progressively the number of residents. Get here quick was the message.

Breakfast was a relatively humble affair. One cup of tea, freshly squeezed orange juice and one croissant or toast with jam. None of the larger spreads which B&Bs and hotels offer even though we were paying a reasonably high price by our standards. Still I found the croissant which was crammed with jam v filling and Liz in the end resorted to the Vegemite on toast which we had packed much to the amusement of the Aussie guy. The Vegemite fascinate the other waiters at the restaurant and Liz persuaded two of them to try it. One kept a straight face and the other almost managed to, the grimace was mostly suppressed. He said he preferred Nutella.

Liz had one goal - to get to the beach. I also had one. We had spotted a barbers shop in town and I headed for the long awaited haircut. The barber was typical no doubt of a myriad of Italian barbers shops around the world. I was the only one in there. He spoke virtually no English but we conversed in the language of the barbers shop. Essentially though the message was make it short. He clipped and snipped away at great pace using the scissors and comb. Just when I thought that looks pretty right perhaps just a bit more off that one section there (which I pointed to) he got a new lease of life and out came the electric clippers and basically he gave me a number 2. Looking at all my futures in the space of 60 seconds. I liked it though though not sure what the missus will think (she liked it too or said she did). Certainly it’s tidy but there seems to be a lot of head.

That was really the first stanza over. He stuck the electric clippers in both ears to move that irritating hair growth. Sounded like a combine harvester in each ear and not just because of the crop growing there. Finished that off with the scissors. Got out a little electric contraption which he stuck up each nostril to remove the hair from there. Yuk I know! Then immediately used the same contraption to trim my eyebrows. This was good but I sat there wondering whether there had been any transference of matter from nostril to eyebrow and people would look at me with a what the heck’s that hanging down off your eyebrow. I hear it’s fashionable.

This was all done at frenetic pace. Next was the cutthroat razor which he applied to trim up bits of hair here and there and shave the neck. Absolutely fantastic. 10 euros about $17/18. I want to take him to Melbourne. Perhaps I can persuade Liz to work on nostril and ear hair.

Liz meanwhile had gone beach exploring and plumped for the town beach. This was a little cove with a very small amount of coarse sand but Liz had managed to find a handy nook up against the craggy retaining wall which provide us with shade. With our foam beach mats we could also sit upright leaning against it so we were very comfy. No umbrellas other than a few private ones that people had stuck in the sand here. Not that that matters too much to the locals. They bask in the sun in a way that Aussies are nervous about these days. No wonder so many are very brown.

I joined her post haircut and we whiled away the day not doing too much other than reading, blogging, sleeping, a bit of swimming etc. It was also fun to watch the locals go about their beach business. I had a bit of a reconnoitre in mid afternoon and duly got lost again wandering around the city but that was half the fun.

After a long afternoon on the beach we headed home for showers etc around 6.30 and post that for dinner. This was to Alessandro’s fish restaurant recommendation. Guazetto It was superb. I had baked sea bream in a crust of potato and zucchini which the waiter suggested as a local delicacy. It was sumptuous as Rick Stein would say. Liz had langoustine which was equally good but a bit on the low side volume wise. She got 6 fairly small ones though laid out very decoratively with their large shells. The paucity was exaggerated when she kindly offered me a bite and I thought she was offering me the whole item. This was not received well and I spent the rest of dinner trying to make up with bits of sea bream. As I write this blog Liz has had a whinge again so it resonated. Must say it did taste nice though.

Liz had not been able to get a drink she could handle at the restaurant so this was a good excuse to head to the city square and have a couple of drinks as the throng paraded past. Lovely temperature. Very relaxed atmosphere. What could be better. Washed down with a couple of gelatis as well. It had been a good day.

[jeremystrele]

A Drool-Worthy Day In The Life Of Instagram Food Sensation, Ellie Bouhadana of Ellie’s Table

A Drool-Worthy Day In The Life Of Instagram Food Sensation, Ellie Bouhadana of Ellie’s Table

A Day In The Life

Sasha Gattermayr

Ellie Bouhadana of Ellie’s Table lives in Balaclava with her partner. Even without lockdown restrictions, this is where she gets all her work done! Photo – Amelia Stanwix.

Photo – Amelia Stanwix.

She spends the start of her day collating off-the-cuff ideas stored in the ‘Notes’ app on her phone into a cohesive recipe plans. Then she tackles the daily admin of a small business: emails, budgets and contacting suppliers! Photo – Amelia Stanwix.

A trip to local fruit and veg store to gather supplies is essential for a day of recipe testing. Photo – Amelia Stanwix.

Researching dishes consists of reading lots and lots of cookbooks -the dream! Photo – Amelia Stanwix.

Selecting produce at the local fruit and veg store in Balaclava, just down the road from Ellie’s house. Photo – Amelia Stanwix.

On days when she hosts her pop-up trattoria, Ellie contacts her local supplier to talk through the best seasonal produce and order large quantities for service. But for recipe testing days, the local shop will definitely do! Photo – Amelia Stanwix.

Inside her light-filled, dreamy kitchen. The kitchen overlooks her garage and driveway, which was the location for her summer crostini bar. Photo – Amelia Stanwix.

The open pantry is filled with Mediterranean pantry staples. Aperol Spritz, anyone? Photo – Amelia Stanwix.

Ellie has Israeli, Moroccan and Jewish heritage, and her cooking is a fusion of them all, with a healthy dose of Italian thrown in! She calls it Italo-Mediterranean, which also captures the way she wants her food to be eaten (communally!) as well as the cuisine itself. Photo – Amelia Stanwix.

Though pasta is traditionally associated with Italy, dough is a central part of Jewish cuisine. Ellie’s grandmother used to watch her mother hang sheets of pasta between two broom handles, and has now taught Ellie how to make Jewish dumplings (kreplach) out of dough and drop them in soup. Photo – Amelia Stanwix.

‘The women in my family don’t really work with recipes so much, they cook with instinct (and a lot of cumin). This is how I love to cook. I really want to preserve their style of cooking which is so innate and relaxed. It really is based on feeling.’ Photo – Amelia Stanwix.

A light and bright corner of the large kitchen. Photo – Amelia Stanwix.

Preparing homemade spaghetti alla chitarra with vongole. Photo – Amelia Stanwix.

Fresh pasta alongside ripe peaches and uncooked prawns. Photo – Amelia Stanwix.

Ellie doesn’t generally take a lunch break because she’s tasting food all day as she tests her recipes. Sometimes a chunk of bread with butter and an anchovy will do! Photo – Amelia Stanwix.

Ellie Bouhadana’s family is from Haifa, an Israeli city on the skinny stretch of coast between Tel Aviv and Beirut. When she was growing up, there was always streams of family and friends filing into her household to eat dinner on a Friday night. Later on, she would discover the same mode of eating in Italy, where a whole village would gather together at restaurants in search of good food and good company.

‘I would say my take on food is influenced by a mix of my Moroccan, Jewish and Israeli heritage; I call my style Italo-Mediterranean,’ she says. ‘When I lived in Haifa, I would watch my aunty make beautiful Friday night family Shabbat feasts from her tiny apartment – I would ask her questions, take notes on recipes. I really want to preserve their style of cooking which is so innate and relaxed.’

When she returned to Melbourne, she was so inspired by this philosophy of communal eating that she launched Ellie’s Table – a place for her to work through all her ideas and inspiration for food-oriented projects. It hit a culinary nerve. Beginning with the enormously successful ‘Doorstep Deliveries’ during lockdown, and expanding to a pop-up trattoria in Ripponlea late last year, Ellie has come a long way from a makeshift kitchen in a semi-demolished church (the first dining event she ever hosted for her friends!).

Without any formal training, she is now a cook, producer, art director and event manager all rolled into one! What does such an indefinable job description mean for her day-to-day life? Funny you should ask…

First Thing…

I usually wake up around 7am because of the light that streams directly into my room. In saying that, when I have the time I can wake up much later, and love spending part of the morning relaxing in bed.

A ritual I’ve always stuck by in the morning is making my bed – it makes me feel like I’ve already accomplished something in my day! I then put a podcast on and go for a walk, ending the walk most days at my local coffee shop in Balaclava. Or I skip the walk for morning yoga.

No matter the weather I love sitting outside the cafe, it feels fresh and is always nice to have a bit of sun on my face while I have a coffee, read or check emails/write a to-do list for the day. I’m usually not really hungry in the mornings, but if I am it’s hunger for a pastry of some sort.

Morning…

My work schedule isn’t super regular, as my weeks often look quite different. On a week where I have a pop-up, I start working at around 8.30am. I’m not the most efficient person, so I try to start early so I can get a lot done.

When I am planning a pop-up I usually sit at my dining table and untangle the inspiration I have messily collected in my ‘Notes’ folder on my phone, writing/drawing my ideas down properly. Embedded throughout my morning is doing research in cookbooks, or sometimes speaking to my mum and grandmother to chat through food ideas.

One morning a week I’ll speak to my fruit and veg supplier to see what he recommends at that moment, based on the season. I’ll then buy a few ingredients and test recipes in my kitchen at home.

Lunchtime…

I know it seems weird but I don’t often take a proper break for lunch. I snack all day during recipe testing, so I don’t really have proper meals unless my partner is home and forces me to sit down with him. It’s the nature of my work because I’m testing food/creating new dishes all the time. Especially when I am cooking for a Saturday pop-up, I am constantly on my feet, tasting food, which makes it hard to take a moment to sit down and make myself a whole meal.

Some days I will tell a couple of friends or my sisters to come by for lunch and try the dishes I’ve been working on. Other days I will slice off a chunk of bread and eat it with butter and an anchovy – that satisfies me for a while.

Afternoon…

After testing recipes I sit down and break the dishes down and create a menu for that weekend’s pop-up (often the dishes aren’t where I want them to be and I’ll need to do more testing the following days). Once I have a menu I am happy with, I begin on all the admin side of the pop-up. There is a huge amount to work through. I begin contacting my suppliers, create the budgets and online booking forms, and organise the overall running of the event.

I actually feel energised at this time! I do a lot of my best work in the afternoons and into the evening.

Evening…

I don’t have a consistent time that I finish work, I always feel like I could do more. If I’m having friends over for dinner I close my laptop between 6 and 7pm and start cooking.

After testing and thinking about food all day, I like to finish the night with simple food. Recently I’ve been enjoying lentils cooked slowly in a sofrito base glistening with extra virgin olive oil. I sear it off with cured meat like pancetta/salami, herbs and wine. I also find myself craving steamed mussels with crusty bread.

I’ve always loved having people over for dinner as a way to unwind. I know that sounds like a lot of effort after a big day but for me throwing a little “casual” dinner party with my partner gives me a way to do something other than think about my projects. I can just immerse myself in the food I’m making for dinner, drink a glass of wine with friends, and relax.

If I’m not in the mood to cook I love going out to eat at either of my two favourite local restaurants (Claypots or Cicciolina) to have a bowl of pasta, or our favourite cajun flathead, and finish with ice cream down the road.

Last Thing…

Depending on the night I usually get into bed between 10.30 and 11pm.

I would say I normally get a lot of sleep just because I love my bed, but at the same time I have learnt that I can function on almost no sleep when I am doing pop-ups. The adrenaline gets to me, and even if I’ve been up cooking until the early hours I somehow still manage to get up at 5am, bake off 15 trays of focaccia in my small oven and throw a super fun pop-up trattoria party that evening!

Art direction and styling is as much a part of Ellie’s business as her food. Her eye is impeccable! Photo – Amelia Stanwix.

One luscious spread! Pictured is grilled sardines, salsa verde and chilli; fresh focaccia; heirloom tomatoes with marinated figs, local basil and extra virgin olive oil; buffalo mozzarella with thinly shaved melon; Wagyu bresaola with guindilla peppers and parmigiano; fennel and baby pea salad, anchovy, olives and lemon. Photo – Amelia Stanwix.

What are your favourite dishes to cook?

My favourite dishes to cook usually involve anchovies, white wine and good extra virgin olive oil. One of my favourites is thick spaghetti with vongole (clams) and lots of fresh chilli and garlic. Artichoke are also a nostalgic favourite. We used to eat them as kids at my grandfather’s house – my Dad would show us how to peel back the layers until you reached the artichoke heart. Now I boil them whole for dinner parties. I usually make a buttery lemon vinaigrette or salsa verde to dip the leaves into.

If borlotti beans are in season I gently boil a bunch with herbs and add them into the marinade to eat with fresh buffalo mozzarella and the artichoke hearts. An indulgent weeknight staple for me is ragu bianco (a luscious meat sauce cooked low and slow with white wine and pure milk).

Right now I’m listening to, watching, and reading…

Listening: I listen to The Daily every morning but I also love Modern Love the podcast, it’s so good!

Watching: I am currently watching Shtisel on Netflix. I am also always in the middle of an episode of Seinfeld – it’s the best!

Reading: Girl, Woman, Other by Bernardine Evaristo

I get my best work done when…

I get to create a food event that I would love to attend myself; I can be as creative and free with my menu ideas, set-up and location.

My productivity tool/tip is…

When planning a food event/pop-up for over 100 people I often get super overwhelmed by the amount of tasks I need to get through in a day. I know it sounds simple, but writing down lists of things really helps me envision my day and work through my tasks. Also calling someone you’re close to (for me it’s my sister) to talk out your plan helps to make things less daunting and build confidence in getting started.

A philosophy I live and work by is…

Eat beautiful food and drink wine with friends, family and loved ones. Be generous and host meals. You don’t need to spend a lot to throw a lush feast.

Something I’ve learned the hard way is…

Let go! Don’t overthink your work or projects too much, it’s not worth the stress. Obviously work hard to achieve your desired outcomes, but don’t get too heavy about it. I am still learning this and I definitely doubt myself most of the time, but I am working on it!

Loving Ellie’s food and writing? Her fortnightly newsletter, ‘Ellie’s Notebook’ was launched today. Subscribe here for more intimate musings on what she’s cooking, where she’s eating, rough recipes + bits and pieces from her camera roll. Keep up with all the Ellie’s Table happenings on her Instagram here.

Even though she’s been cooking all day, sometimes Ellie’s favourite way to unwind is to cook for friends. Being surrounded by people and food is the best way to relax.  Photo – Amelia Stanwix.

‘I know that sounds like a lot of effort after a big day but for me throwing a little “casual” dinner party with my partner gives me a way to do something other than think about my projects,’ she says. Photo – Amelia Stanwix.

[holisticpassport]

The Path to Perth.

I’m actually being semi decent about posting weekly updates! It helps when the events that are happening are positive because I want to share as opposed to dreading writing about negative things that I don’t want to remind myself about. Let’s start with work!

I started work at Five66 Café on Flinders Street (the main street downtown across from the central train station). It’s a cute little café ran by an Indian family that’s conveniently located in front of a tour group departure meetup point, so I meet people from all over the world every shift! The 6am wakeup time was brutal the first week but my body is finally used to it… too used to it because now I wake up every day at 6am instead of just the 3 days I need to. Oh well. I kind of do a bit of everything there, but focus on the coffees. I was doing a pretty crap job my first day, but woman I work with took the time to show me how to properly froth milk for each type of coffee so I feel much better about it now. Only thing is the pay is SO low. Like illegally low that I can make the same amount of money in half the time at my waitress job. I work hard and put in the hours if I feel valued as an employee, and making $13 an hour (when the minimum is supposed to be $20), I’m not sure I can stay at it for very long-- will be searching for something else. My waitress gig is going well though. Feel like I can handle the fast paced work now, and I love the girls I work with! Wish I could get more hours there. They’re closed this week for renovations, but I’m getting some cocktail training today so that should be fun.

Life at the hostel is pretty good. The staff are getting to know me, the social vibe is awesome, there’s always stuff to do every night at the basement bar, a movie room to chill out in, and all of my roomies have been quiet and respectful. I was on a top bunk for a week right next to the door, so every time it opened the light from the hall would wake me up. I haven’t been getting a lot of deep sleep. I’ve felt it too because I’m on the verge of being sick, but that’s also because I haven’t been eating healthy, started drinking again because I’m in that social vibe, and being really active. I’ll work on getting my health back in check this week.

Over the weekend, I worked Wednesday through Sunday 10-12 hours each day and the military guy I met at the pub crawl came back to town so we could attend White Night together (a cultural/art festival that goes from 7am to 7pm with the whole downtown area participating). I certainly regretted staying out until 4am with work at 7am, but still had a lot of fun. And as far as the guy goes, nothing could come from it because he was moving to Cairns (hella far North), but people come into your life for a reason. A friend of mine said the people we meet are mirrors; they show the most present/relevant part of ourselves right now. I think I met him because I’ve finally begun to enjoy who I am and in turn found someone who equally enjoyed those parts about me that I used to think were crazy like being obsessed with Harry Potter, eating raw cookie dough, and aspiring to live a life like Alexander Supertramp (aka Into the Wild guy). If nothing else, I have memories of Spanish dancing, making a pact to make the next 10 years of our lives the best yet, and 5am tram rides talking about politics, open relationships, and playing guitar for each other. White Night consisted of going back to the creepy hospital bar (which I finally learned is called The Croft Institute), watching a live swing band and dancers perform, eating drunken sushi, and observing a light show on the walls of Finders Station.

On Monday night, the hostel was hosting bingo karaoke (karaoke songs on the sheets and when he plays them, if you knew the lyrics you could sing it to get a free shot). Well you all know me and singing…. So that was a fun night. But went to bed at midnight because I had an early rise for some adventures the next day at 8am with a group of 4 other people to the Grampians National Park. It’s about a three-hour drive west of Melbourne, and it was the most perfect temperature, clear day we could have asked for. We stopped off at Boruka viewing cliff, The Balconies, and McKenzie Waterfalls. This was by far the most beautiful place I’ve probably ever seen in my life. I wish we could have stayed for a sunset. I will hopefully get back there again before I leave AU.

Speaking of leaving AU, because I’m embracing this whole living week by week thing, my mind is swirling with ideas of where to go next and what to ultimately do. I’m really aiming for farm work (as I made a connection with a girl on that trip), and can make the money I need in order to be able to go back to Europe this summer. I also don’t want to stay at this café job which will cut my money down in half, and I can’t afford to stay at this hostel anymore. So need to make some moves! I could wait it out another month and do the prawn ship thing, but I don’t know if that offer is still on the table.

On Wednesday I went out to Leonard’s House of Love (no, it’s not what you think). It’s a quirky hipster dive bar off a main street with cheap beers, and I chatted with a girl from work after cocktail training. We talked everything and anything (I’m sensing a common theme with politics when I start drinking… I must be passionate about it or something). Then I went to my old host’s house for dinner to see the kids again since I didn’t them before I moved out, and it was lovely.  

 **Update 2 days later** I quit the café because it was already bumming me out and the pay just wasn’t worth it. In doing so, it gave me the whole week off because of renovations at the restaurant. I had some time to organize my bags, get rid of stuff, grab a coffee/go for a swim with a friend, and really think about my next moves. Because I’ve done so much in and around the surrounding area of Melbourne except Wilsons Prom, I feel like I’ve seen what I wanted to and gotten what I needed out of my time here. There’s just been a gnawing feeling that it’s time to move on and begin elsewhere. I thought about going up to Sydney to see some friends, do some sight-seeing and try to find farm work up there. I was about to book a flight/care rental, but intuition said that specific place wasn’t right. But I did still need to go somewhere else. I woke up this morning and received an offer for farm work in Shepparton, but the pay was even more abysmal than the café! Then I ran across a posting on a Facebook page for people new Melbourne, and there was a hippy bus leaving on Tuesday for a 4 week trip to Perth (Western Australia). My stomach began fluttering with butterflies and I knew that was it. I wrote to them to see if they had any more seats available, they did, and I booked my spot. I’ve really been embracing the impulsive Aries side of me because the battle with the practical Taurus side of me was getting old and everyone has an opinion, but in the end it’s my life. A lot of people don’t listen to their intuition and just TRUST that everything is going to work out how it’s supposed to. I don’t think I’ve ever been genuinely happier in my life now that I’m past all the bullshit and it’s because I’ve put an emphasis on relying upon myself for happiness; my newest motto is “if you aren’t absolutely obsessed with your life, then change it”.  Ironically I’m financially the poorest I’ve ever been, but money is just money. Some are enslaved by it and others believe our government is going to fall apart any second so it wont matter anyway (Or just wishful thinking so I don’t have to pay back student loans. It’s good to dream.) Today, I’m buying a tent and sleeping bag, selling a ton of clothes, and also getting ready for my final trip tomorrow… to Wilsons Prom!

[misssophiachase]

Well it's certainly been a long time between updates but it's tennis season here at the moment and I'm so excited! Heading to the Australian Open and can't wait : ) So enough about me, onto chapter 8! 

This is dedicated to the lovely @iart1992 who is an avid follower of this fic : ) and to @romanoffsbite for the awesome cover!

Game. Set. Match

Chapter 8: Every 1's a Winner

Arbory Bar: Southbank, Melbourne, Australia - 25 January

"Forbes and Mikaelson have surprised everyone with a quarter finals finish at the first major tournament of the year," John McEnroe commented. "We saw glimpses of their potential when they reached the third round in Qatar but after their undisciplined performance in Sydney I had my doubts."

"You weren't the only one," former tennis champion Jim Courier concurred. "It looks like they've rallied and even though it's early days in the season I think we are going to be seeing a lot more from this dynamic, mixed doubles pairing as they storm their way up the international rankings."

"I never thought I'd be this excited by a quarter finals placing but it's like music to my ears," Enzo grinned turning away from the big screen television they'd erected over the bar. They'd assembled at one of the most popular places in town which also happened to be the longest in the southern hemisphere and overlooking the famed Yarra River.

"Watch out Rotterdam Open next month," Matt celebrated, popping the bottle of champagne open with a loud bang.

Klaus and Caroline gazed at each other wearily across the table. Although they'd decided their pairing was ending after the Australian Open they hadn't broken it to their enthusiastic coaches just yet who were too busy celebrating their success. They hadn't expected to do so well and Klaus figured the relief at breaking up the partnership was responsible for it. It also didn't hurt that their dinner the other night had gone surprisingly well with no arguments. He actually thought they were making progress, pity about the poor timing.

"Why so glum, gorgeous?" Enzo asked, passing Caroline a glass of the golden bubbly. "Look, I know you're planning on ways to torment Mikaelson and I for one am excited to see what you come up with but could you at least wait until we properly celebrate your joint success?" Klaus chose to ignore the insult, he was getting used to Enzo's supposed humour after all this time together.

If he was being honest Klaus was regretting letting her go so easily, it was obvious they were a good tennis pairing and all they needed to do was stop fighting and focus on their game. He'd genuinely felt bad about the way he acted with Tyler but he was only looking out for her best interests. He'd never forgive that bastard for what he did to Rebekah. There was also a small, niggling part of him that cared about Caroline's wellbeing. Klaus decided to blame that on the stressful situation they'd been thrown into.

He considered trying to change her mind but she had been fairly insistent and Klaus was worried she'd think he was being self serving because of the precarious situation with his Nike contract. For once Klaus hadn't even thought about that consideration.

"Stop encouraging her, Enzo," Rebekah chided joining them at the table with Kol in her stride.

"Oh if it isn't the Brady Bunch!" Enzo exclaimed. "That fierce protective side makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, gorgeous."

"I just don't want to clean up his mess, I already do enough of that already," she scowled at Enzo, taking a seat by Klaus.

"I'm not that bad," Klaus argued noticing Kol trying to stifle his laughter. "Anyway, what's got into you?"

"It's all of this gorgeous Australian sunshine and women," Kol sighed.

"Last time I checked you were complaining about your sunburn courtside and the only woman you seem to be shamelessly throwing yourself at currently is Bonnie," Rebekah groaned.

"Rebekah!" He hissed.

"It's okay Kol, we all know about your thing for our little Bon Bon," Enzo laughed. "In fact it's become quite entertaining watching you make a fool of yourself. We even have bets on how long it will take for her to slap you."

"I'm surprised by her willpower to be honest," Matt joked. "I had money on last week."

"You're all bloody hilarious, I should have stayed at the hotel with Elijah and Izzy, I probably would have had more fun," he growled, heading to the bar. "I'm going to get myself a much needed drink."

"Where is Bonnie anyway?" Enzo asked Caroline.

"Bonnie said she was going to take a rest at the hotel but that she'd meet us later."

"Yeah a rest from Kol's pestering," Matt replied. "Maybe if she'd slapped him last week she'd be Kol free by now and I'd have an extra $100 in my pocket."

"You guys seriously made a bet?" She baulked looking between Matt and Enzo.

"Well, why not?"

"I don't know because it's childish," Caroline bit out. "I can't wait until Katherine hears about this."

"Who do you think came up with the idea?" Enzo chuckled. "Where is the annoying, feisty brunette anyway?"

"I'm not sure to be honest but when Katherine doesn't share her plans it's usually for the best, if you know what I mean," Caroline mumured. "There's only so much detail I can take."

"As much as I love talking about Katherine's sex life, I'd really prefer we outline our plans for the Netherlands next month, we need to keep up the momentum," Rebekah ordered, back to business as usual.

"Well, the plan is to go and play some tennis. I mean that's just a hunch," Enzo answered, a wicked grin etched on his face.

"If someone needs a damn good slapping it's you, Lorenzo," she drawled.

"Someone obviously likes it a bit rough but I'd be more than willing to entertain you, gorgeous," Enzo purred. Klaus noticed his sister's cheeks flush, something that wasn't a very common occurrence. He could have sworn there was something more than a begrudging working relationship going on between them. If it was, his sister certainly worked fast. He shook his head deciding that he didn't really want to entertain those untoward thoughts.

"Okay, time out," Caroline interrupted, almost like she was reading his mind. "Klaus and I actually have an announcement to make." For once the table was quiet and they had everyone's undivided attention. "We are calling it quits."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Well since you asked so nicely Rebekah, we decided it was best that we part ways professionally," Klaus murmured, backing her up even though he didn't agree.

"But you just made the quarter finals in only your third tournament," Matt said, his bewildered expression not lost on Klaus. "And it wasn't just any tournament it was the Australian Open, only the best of the best qualify to compete here."

"I think they know all of that, Matt," Enzo replied knowingly. "What is really going on here? Did you call her names again or did you hit him with more projectiles? It's just a bit of endearing fun even if your coaches don't think so at the time."

"That's exactly it, Enzo," Caroline argued. "We don't get along, infact all we do is fight and you've just proven that."

"Well, call me crazy but this tournament was the first time I actually saw you getting along, that's why you did so well, Caroline." Klaus knew it was true but he didn't want to put any added pressure on her especially given the current interrogation they were being subjected to.

"Yes because we decided beforehand we were going to end things for good," she insisted.

"Oh, so you didn't think about telling us about this little arrangement?"

"Calm down, little sister," Klaus warned. "At the end of the day this decision is for us to make, no one else."

"Well it's a stupid decision," Rebekah huffed.

"For once I agree with Rebekah and that doesn't happen often," Enzo agreed. "All we ask is that you think about it and don't make a rash decision. What I saw today was bloody good teamwork and it would be a waste to lose that."

"And I don't usually agree with Enzo but he's right," Matt added. Klaus looked across at Caroline, it was obvious by her pensive expression that she was deeply torn about what to do.

Crowne Plaza Hotel, Melbourne

"When I told you about Izzy's fever I didn't expect a personal house call," Elijah said as he opened the door to the brunette, her arms laden with snacks and toys. Katherine had to hide her excitement at finding the eldest Mikaelson in his usual suit but surprisingly casual with his shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbows and his tie loosened around his neck. Why did this gorgeous, married guy continue to get even more handsome?

After their surprise flight together to Australia, Katherine and Isobel had really bonded over Frozen and surprisingly she'd found that her and Elijah had quite a bit in common, well except for their relationship status of course.

"Well, I was at a loose end."

"You didn't want to join the tennis stars at their celebration?"

"I can only take so much of their banter and don't get me started on Kol's obvious attraction to Bonnie," she quipped. "Anyway, I thought this was too good an opportunity to miss watching Finding Dory, I mean we are in Australia after all."

"You realise the majority of that movie takes place in California, right?"

"I didn't know you were the authority on children's movie locations?"

"I do my research before letting my daughter watch anything, I'm kind of..."

"I would have said anal but have a feeling you were going to go with thorough?" She replied finishing his sentence. "Does that mean we can't watch it because I was really looking forward to it if I'm being really honest?"

"Well, I'd hate to deprive you of that opportunity Miss Pierce."

"Hey, you have a child which gives you an excuse to indulge in animated movies, I have no such excuse," she said, pushing past him and into their suite. "So, where is the sick, little girl? I also have games and toys she might enjoy. Oh and it's Katherine by the way, how many times do I have to tell you that?"

"I never took you for the child type," he murmured.

"Well, you obviously don't know me very well yet," she scoffed. "My twin sister Elena has two children and I'm their favourite aunt, granted I'm their only aunt but that doesn't matter."

"I should have known given your ability to recite the entire script of Frozen unprompted," he chuckled.

"Don't think I didn't see you joining in on a few of those lines," she grinned.

When she'd convinced Elijah to let her sit with Isobel, Katherine hadn't imagined he'd end up next to her after another passenger offered to trade seats. Once the little girls had fallen asleep a few hours into the flight the two of them had discussed just about everything, except the obvious elephant in the room which was his wife. He didn't raise Tatia and Katherine felt weird bringing it up herself given they were practically strangers. Elijah seemed like an honourable kind of guy but why would this woman still call him her husband when it was clear he didn't wear a wedding ring?

"That's what happens when you are forced to endure the same movie a hundred times."

"You secretly liked it, I could tell," she smiled, placing her goodies on the couch. Katherine was a smart woman and she always did the proper thing but when it came to Elijah she couldn't retain some space given his situation, although the fact he had messaged to let her know she was unwell seemed to illustrate he was doing the same thing.

"Katherine," the little girl in question sang. She was wrapped in a light blue dressing gown her brown hair unkempt and a telling pale complextion. Katherine's heart immediately went out to the sick, little girl. "You're here."

"I am Izzy and I brought you a few things, you know if you're well enough to play with them," her sudden, happy expression told Elijah he only had one thing to say and that was yes. She'd been so weak and tired the past few days and it was wonderful to see some enthusiasm back in his little girl's brown eyes and it was all because of Katherine Pierce.

Arbory Bar, Melbourne

"I come in peace and in need of alcohol," Bonnie said, approaching Kol tentatively at the bar who was nursing a glass of scotch.

"It's okay, if you want to slap me I understand," he muttered, thinking back to Enzo's words. "If anything someone might win a bet out of it."

"A bet?" She asked in confusion. Kol inwardly sighed with relief, at least she didn't know about their stupid arrangement.

"It's nothing," he replied. "Can I get you a drink?"

"I'd love a vodka," she shared. "I'm still trying to get over the surprise quarter finals result to be honest."

"We all were until they decided to announce that they are ending their tennis partnership," Kol scoffed, gesturing to the barman for another drink.

"I'm sorry? I've been absent for what a few hours and this happens?" She squeaked. "Tell me this is a joke?"

"Apparently not," he responded. "They were unconvinced until they left here a half hour ago, Enzo and Matt are hoping it was temporary insanity and they'll come to their senses sooner rather than later."

"But why?"

"I wasn't there but apparently it has something to do with their inability to get along."

"Okay, now you've said it that wasn't difficult to guess," she drawled, taking the glass gratefully. "But after that win? They seemed so in sync on court for once."

"That was already covered, trust me," he explained. "It's probably best we just wait and see what happens, those two can be sensible every now and again."

"How do you do that?"

"Do what?" He asked, his brown eyes boring into hers deeply.

"Make everything sound like it's all going to be okay."

"You haven't grown up as the youngest of the Mikaelson siblings. Given all the dramatics you had to hope everything was going to right itself, even if it didn't feel that way at the time," he offered. "We could sit here and worry about it until morning or make better use of our time."

"What did you have in mind?" Bonnie asked, cocking her left eyebrow.

"Does that mean you might be interested?"

"Possibly," she answered, sending him her best smile. "Just as long as you don't try and hit on me again."

Southbank Bridge, Melbourne

"Why do I suddenly feel like it's the French Open again and I'm at the Pont des Arts in Paris?" Caroline asked noticing the stray locks attached to the bridge over the Yarra as they walked across it towards their hotel. They'd left the bar desperate to get away from the judgmental looks from their coaches and his sister in particular about their decision.

"Because they've obviously tried to recreate it here," he said. "Not that it's my kind of thing of course, Forbes."

"Well, that I'm not surprised about it Mikaelson," she teased. "Romance isn't really your thing."

"It might be," he spluttered, "You know if I'm in the mood and really tried."

"You realise being in the mood for possible romance doesn't mean sex, right?" His face softened in realisation at her inferrence. "That takes a lot more effort."

"Why?"

"You're hilarious, has anyone ever told you that?"

"Numerous times actually, love," he promised. Klaus was trying to ignore just how cute she looked in her blue dress that perfectly matched her eyes.

"Why do you insist on calling me that?"

"It's habit I guess and before you say it, it has nothing to do with its tennis score," he said. "You seemed torn before about our decision, if you don't mind me saying."

"Oh, because it would help your situation, right?"

"I never said that," he implored, placing his arms on her shoulders so that she stood still on the middle of the bridge as the city lights twinkled in the distance. "I'm onboard with whatever you decide." They held each other's gaze for what seemed like ages, completely oblivious to the passing foot traffic, some of whom recognised the celebrities in their travels.

"We did play extremely well," she shared. "Well, I certainly did anyway."

"It seems like someone has made an impression on you."

"Yeah an arrogant someone," she shot back, her bright, blue eyes blazing as she said it. "I just won't take his crap anymore so if he's willing to cooperate and not act like a five year-old then I'm willing to reconsider my decision." Klaus laughed, she always had that effect on him. "And to take this seriously."

"I agree," he replied solemnly, finally removing his arms from her shoulders even though every shred of his being was screaming at Klaus to stay in that very position for some reason. "So, how about we celebrate?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do something to cement our partnership."

"I am not getting a tattoo, Mikaelson, even if your face looks pretty on my skin."

"I had something else in mind, if you're game of course?"

You can read it and review on FF HERE

[belindisney]

Belated posting

So I’m really bad at posting regularly, but seeing as we’re getting closer to D-day (Disney day, departure day, d-d-d-damn son you finally getting out of the house day, your choice) I figure there’ll be more to talk about. Of course, because I’ve left this post so late it’ll be vague and probably unhelpful to anyone who happens to read this looking for information... but there’s plenty of helpful Disney bloggers and vloggers out there, so hopefully this info will lead you onto the right track if that’s why you’re reading! 

So first, a correction from my last post: I’m not a B1/B2 in French. I mean, I could be, maybe. But my exams from last year were A1/A2 level. The reason I’m so approximate nd maybe overestimating myself is because of the way uni classes are divided when it comes to language. Surprise! You could begin learning a brand new language at uni if you wanted to (I’m at La Trobe). If I had gone to La Trobe straight out of year 12, which was back in 2012, I would have enough experience with the language to qualify for Unit 5 or 6, however, because it had been four and a half years, I felt I should go back to Unit 4. (Actually, I spent my first week in Unit 1, but because that week was spent learning pronouncing the alphabet and how to say “Je m’appelle” it was apparent that that was too easy for me). And while I am no genius, and I didn’t have the best grammar, I was toward the top end of the class when it came to vocab. And I was only a couple of marks away from 100% on my written exam. Anyway!!! Back on topic!

The visa process and preparing all the paperwork is decidedly more complicated than the application. There are a lot of fees to pay. There’s a lot of questionnaires to fill out. In my case, the process included me standing at the approximate head of the line in confusion and then having this lady shake her head at me because her booth was free and I guess I technically pushed in front of someone. (I only needed to hand over my passport.. but more on that later). 

When you’re accepted into the program, you have a limited amount of time to accept your place, which is about a week from memory. When I was accepted, I went nuts. I was with other uni kids for a group assignment, and we were just making sure the video was fine. I couldn’t concentrate, because all of us who had applied for the January intake were waiting with baited breath for their emails. Someone had already gotten a “no longer in consideration”, so we were all panicking! Cue my freakout as the first person posted their acceptance. The two girls from my group watched as I fretted and finally.. the moment I found my email.. I deleted it by accident. I don’t know how I did it but I did, thank god for the “deleted items” function! Cue calling everyone I know, nearly crying. My parents were in England, and so they got the call at 5am - the first words Mum said after I told her the news were “Oh no!!!”. For the next 3 hours I responded to nearly everything with “Don’t care, I’m going to Disney World!”

Once you’ve accepted your offer, you receive a packet of information, including the fees you have to pay in order to secure your place. One of these fees pays for your housing and utility costs until you get proper pay checks. This is $200AUD (all costs are going to be from memory, and are obviously subject to change). Another pays for housing events and the like, and costs $154AUD.

One of the most time consuming things was getting what I needed from my university in order to satisfy my visa application. You need the university to approve your status as a student and get a representative to sign and stamp a form. This took a couple of trips for me. If you are considering applying for the program and you’re still in first year, keep in mind some things are going to take a little longer because you have to wait until your first year is officially finished. It doesn’t change much else, except you cannot choose your arrival date - only the latter one will be open to you. You’ll need to hand one in by a certain time so your place is secured, but you’ll need another one to satisfy the visa. 

I recommend you get your medical insurance before applying for your visa. I don’t recall anyone actually asking about whether or not I had medical insurance, probably because it is a requirement of the program anyway, but I prioritised this over my visa. Because my program is the Australian/New Zealand Cultural Exchange, I had to get medical insurance with a company affiliated with Disney. You have two options - a cheaper one with which you have to pay $50 before a doctor will see you, or a more expensive one without this extra cost. I felt the latter was just going to be better in case I was sick or injured. I have migraines which regular Panadol doesn’t fix, so I’ve seen doctors and visited an osteopath fairly regularly this year to try and fix the issue. I may have to do the same while I’m over there, especially if I’m going to be working full days in hospitality, which I know gets hectic. This cost about $800AUD. 

Another thing you should do before your visa is your police check. In fact, this might be a requirement of the visa, but of course I can’t remember and can’t be bothered checking. This is simply a name check (you do not need to visit anywhere for this), which costs about $30AUD and didn’t take long at all. You have nothing to worry about if, like me, your biggest offence is spending too much time on the Internet. 

The info packet will contain all the specific information on how to fill out the SEVIS ($35USD) and DS-2019 ($160USD) forms online. Here it’ll help to talk to other people going through the same thing as you, because I had a bit of trouble paying for my DS-2019 application. Here is where I fail as a DCP blogger, because I can’t remember why I had trouble and how I fixed it. I can tell you though, that the online application was very thorough. It will take you about a half hour, and have some contact details prepared. Like your passport, you need some people to vouch for you that aren’t family members. Once you’ve finished the online application, you can make an appointment to go to the consulate. 

Because I live in Melbourne, I did not have to travel to get my visa. I went to St Kilda on public transport, got worried that I was lost when I actually wasn’t, and realised that it was freezing outside. Being a consulate, you would expect the building to be glaringly obvious. Not so. In fact, I had no idea whether or not the building I had passed was the building or not - it’s another official looking place amidst other official looking places, but in an area which feels almost rural compared to the CBD in the city. I truly imagined an area like where you would find the Magistrate’s and County Courts. Wrong. Anyway. I was freezing, and very early, and drank hot chocolate in the conveniently-located cafe next door. Then I stood in a line for about 15 minutes (there are signs directing you) before I came in. Don’t be scared or nervous. If you have been to an official building before the process will be familiar - you confirm your appointment, follow the instructions, have your things checked and your bags handed into security. (I visited Barwon Prison twice over two years for VCE, twice because I wasn’t an asshole and listened to my teacher in year 11, this experience was a thousand times more hardcore in comparison as you would imagine). 

Another person from Sydney gave me the impression that the visa interview was incredibly daunting. For me, it was not so. I stood in a line in a very well heated room for a time (I forgot to mention that we had to catch the lift because of reasons. The lift was great. It was half made.) before being called forward to a booth. I was lucky to speak to a lovely American woman, to whom I had to give my passport and my DS-2019/SEVIS forms. She asked me why I was going to America, and was delighted to hear about my program. I’m under the impression that they’re well aware of the program, because in my case the conversation turned to how great Disney was, and how I was so excited to go there and how she was thrilled for me. I had my fingerprints scanned on something out of a sci-fi film (twice I got my rights mixed up from my lefts, how), before going to the next person to go through more of the same. He reviewed the same forms before telling me my visa had been approved, and to go and pay my reciprocity fee before returning. This cost a little less than $150AUD. 

I’m going to end the post abruptly here because that’s pretty much the entire process. I’ve just realised I should probably have mentioned the DOC and hire documentation, but this post is extremely long like the others, so I’ll try and write a brief description of those tomorrow. See you soon!

[kernichadventures]

The 100th running of the famous Indianapolis 500 Mile Race was scheduled for May 29th 2016 and I made the decision 2 years before to go to that race. I never thought I’d end up travelling to America, but I made it safely and left with a totally new impression.

I decided on a 3 week adventure taking in Los Angeles, Las Vegas, Chicago, Indianapolis, New York City and Washington. A fellow sim racer suggested I take in a 7th city, so I took a day trip to Charlotte as a late change, which ended up as the biggest drama of the 3 weeks.

I approached this trip mirroring a “Grand Tour” cycling race, using the first week to settle in, week two for the main event (Indianapolis), then being tired and expecting high drama in the third week.

After saving, planning and eventually spending a lot of money, it was time to go.

First task was getting to America, which was a onerous yet extremely exciting 18 hour task. Getting up at 4am on a Monday morning to catch the first flight of the day to Melbourne, then an expected 2 hour layover in Melbourne, then 14 hours to LAX. Walking into that international terminal for the first time, I literally stopped and took a deep breath, this was a big moment!

Clearing customs and immigration, I found myself in an international terminal, waiting for an Airbus A380 to arrive. Seeing the aircraft pull up was a sight to behold.

Arriving into LAX after an eternal flight, which felt like suspended animation for the last 6 hours, there was a strange feeling you get that you know you’re in a new country, but it doesn’t register. Taking 2 hours to get out of LAX and then taking a bus into the city (the only decent way) I made my way to my hotel (The O Hotel, a cool place, thanks for having me), stored my bags and realised that my adventure I had planned for was now officially underway. First stop was Expo Park, for the Science Museum and LA Memorial Coliseum. That place had the Space Shuttle, an icon of engineering.

Space Shuttle

LA Coliseum

Marvelling over the Space Shuttle, I marvelled at how that thing got up into the sky, orbited a bunch of times and landed again. The LA Coliseum wasn’t open for tours on the Monday, so I just had to look from the outside. The only stadium to host 2 Olympic Games (might be 3 if 2024 awarded), along with many other things.

Because I was 2 hours behind schedule, a city walking tour I arranged to take I had to cancel, so I was left to wander the streets of the city for an hour or so, taking in “The Last Bookstore” among other things, such as a trip to the supermarket to skimp on food. I had to get to my hotel and check in, then make my way to the famous Dodger Stadium for my first American experience – Freeway Baseball vs. the Anaheim Angels. What a magnificent sporting arena, I recommend it to anyone who’s in the city. The Dodgers lost in a 4 hour game, but I won’t forget that place.

Bus ride up there was pretty cool too, with red eyes and surrounded by Dodger fans.

To this point, I hadn’t slept properly for 36 hours (who can sleep in economy class??), getting back to my hotel just after midnight LA time. I collapsed.

I was originally going to go to the Getty Center on Tuesday, however my alarm wasn’t set properly and after sleeping into 9:30 am (woops) I made a schedule change. I had my breakfast inside the hotel and then took the Expo Line to the end of the line, then a bus to Santa Monica (the wrong bus, which took twice as long, woops). The Expo Line extension to Santa Monica opened 3 days later, which forced me to use the bus.

LA Public Transport was quite good for the services I used. The prices were good, services on time and took me to the places I wanted. Thanks to the city for making an effort to encourage more people to use it.

Santa Monica is a cool place, a massive beach with the famous Santa Monica Pier. I wandered around the pier and beach for a few hours, taking it all in. I was going to hire a bike and ride to Venice Beach, but decided not to.

After an all too short experience of that place, it was time to get the bus back into the city, for my LA City Tour. I ended up getting back to the hotel 20 mins late and my shuttle bus almost left without me! Thanks to Starline Tours for giving me a nice view of the city. I saw Sunset Blvd, Hollywood Bowl Lookout, Observatory and Downtown sights at night.

With Day 2 complete, it was time to get ready for Long Beach on my final day in Los Angeles.

My final full day was a trip to the coastal town of Long Beach, an hour away by train. A ride on the blue line took me through some pretty rough areas, so I kept my head down and waited for my destination. Arriving at Long Beach, I made my way towards Ocean Boulevard and took a walk along parts of the famous street circuit. I walked all the way round to the fountain turn for my boat tour. A 1 hour delay due to mechanical problems got me a complimentary entry to the famous Aquarium of the Pacific. Thanks to Harbour Cruises!

My boat ride around the harbour was very nice for the $12 I paid. I saw the famous Queen Mary up close, the entrance to the Port of Los Angeles and a view of the city from several miles away.

After the tour, I took a short bus trip back to the train and popped in for lunch at Johnny Rockets. Apart from accent problems, the experience was good. I was searching for a famous “In N Out Burger” but couldn’t locate one, so took another option.

Given my changes, the original Santa Monica trip was done a day earlier and I was left with a few hours to kill and decided to return to Hollywood, where I was 24 hours earlier. Saw a few weird people there, including a peg leg man crossing the street!

A short walk around the deserted Downtown area finished my first few days in America and it was time to get ready for the move eastwards.

An early rise on Thursday morning, to take the 8:30am bus to Las Vegas. The Greyhound bus station is in a rather dicey area in the eastern area of the city, but acceptable for me. I paid only $10 for the 3.5 hour trip, worth every cent! A ride to the eastern industrial sprawl, across the stunning Cajon Pass, through to Barstow (where I got a $5 USD 12 inch sub) and finally into Nevada and arriving at the Las Vegas bus station.

Next time I travel to America, I am touring by bus and Amtrak. My impressions of the network changed a lot in my time there.

Arriving into Las Vegas and getting off the bus, I walked into an oven! The temperature was nearly 38 Celsius and humidity quite high. I made my way to my hotel (Downtown Grand, an excellent place, only a few years old and good value) and checked in. My city view was quite nice from the 11th floor.

I then made my way to the famous Fremont Street Experience and a really cool place called “Banger Brewing”. I decided to take a tour of the place to fill up some time and my appreciation for the fine art of craft beer increased a lot. The beer itself was magnificent, especially their coffee flavoured variety.

After wandering around Fremont Street for a while and meandering into casinos, I made my way to the famous Mob Museum, which was right next to my hotel. A fine display of the mafia history of America, how prohibition affected the organised crime market and how famous criminals such as Al Capone were brought to justice.

It was now dusk and my first experience of Las Vegas at night was very good, I took in the Fremont Light Displays, casinos (again) and a cover band performance. I feel that Downtown Las Vegas has a much better atmosphere than the concrete canyon at the Las Vegas Strip. An experience recommended for anyone visiting the city.

Day 2 in Vegas would be a busy one and consisted of me taking a little road trip to Las Vegas Motor Speedway and the iconic Hoover Dam in the morning and afternoon. I wanted to do some driving on the right and this was my opportunity. Getting the car itself was a bit of a mess, the attendant was washing cars and I ended up missing my 10am tour of the Speedway buy 5 mins and had to explore the gift shop for an hour. I am a big racing fan and I couldn’t pass the chance to visit one of the most modern facilities in NASCAR. Thanks to the Speedway for the nice tour.

Travelling to Hoover Dam took roughly one hour and the number of speeders on the road really caught me out. I couldn’t afford to be busted for speeding in a foreign country, so drove on the 65 mph limit. I reached Hoover Dam through a long winding road and police checkpoint. I was immediately blown away.

I decided on the power plant tour and I was taken down 500 feet to the power station, seeing how the Colorado River was diverted for construction and the generators themselves (which are much bigger than is visible).

After the tour was finished, I wandered across to the Arizona side of the dam and stood in 2 time zones simultaneously. Being an hour behind schedule, I couldn’t walk too far into the Arizona side as I had to return to the city to return the vehicle before 5pm. Bad traffic coming back made me miss that time! I returned the keys, but had to hold onto the GPS overnight for return the following morning.

Sunset was soon to fall and it was time to travel to the Las Vegas Strip to see what this city is best known for. First stop was the Stratosphere Tower and some nice views of the city, after navigating the maze at ground level to access the observation deck. A cool place to witness sunset.

After a bus ride on “The Deuce” I arrived at the Caesar’s Palace Forum Shops and took a wander through this Roman themed resort. One particular moment in this mall was a sighting of Floyd Mayweather, hiding in the back of an upmarket shop.

Coming out of Caesar’s Palace, I meandered up and down the north part of the Strip and saw a number of famous casinos, including Harrahs, Bellagio and The Venetian. One highlight was the famous Bellagio Light Display.

It was near midnight when I returned to my hotel in Downtown, ready for a busy final day on my west coast swing.

Final day in Vegas was devoted to the Strip and seeing as much as I could of this famous casino boulevard. A trip on the bus all the way to the end of the Strip saw me at the famous Las Vegas sign.

I then walked up the Strip and took in a number of famous resorts, including Mandalay Bay, Luxor, Excalibur, New York/New York and the massive MGM Grand.

My main highlight of the south strip was a trip up to the top of the Paris/Las Vegas Eiffel Tower and a magnificent view of the city.

I decided to finish early, with an early rise required for the following day. It was time to head to Chicago!

Finishing my time in Vegas, I wandered the downtown area in the morning and then travelled to McCarran Airport via bus. Arriving an hour earlier than scheduled turned out to be a good move, the security there was far crazier than I expected. My flight to Chicago O’Hare would take me into the busiest airport in the world for aircraft movements and I expected chaos once there.

Aboard America Airlines Flight 1029, I left Las Vegas just before midday for a 4 hour flight to Chicago. The American Airlines experience for this flight was as expected and we were on time, in good weather with no turbulence. Thanks to American Airlines for this flight.

My arrival at Chicago O’Hare marks the end of Part 1, thanks for reading.

TBC …………………………………………

Three Weeks in the United States – An Unforgettable Adventure: Part 1 The 100th running of the famous Indianapolis 500 Mile Race was scheduled for May 29th 2016 and I made the decision 2 years before to go to that race.

[jeremystrele]

Simone Haag’s Guide To Mount Buller + Mansfield

Simone Haag’s Guide To Mount Buller + Mansfield

Travel

Simone Haag

Simone on the Mount Buller slopes! Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files.

We weren’t a snow-going family when I was a kid – the one trip we went on gave the Griswolds a run for their money! I’m surprised I ever made it back there, but landing a job on Mt Buller in the early 2000s helped the cause, and I am so thankful for that.

From very humble beginnings at Mt Buller, I was lucky enough to go on to Heli-Board in Canada, and work for multiple seasons in Chamonix, France. But I will always see Mt Buller as my home mountain. I even met my husband there – he snowboarded professionally for five years and went on to coach for Team Buller. So it’s safe to say that I am now part of a snow family!

I feel that the Mansfield Mt Buller region demonstrates a slower pace of life – stopping to chat with people in the street; fresh air; warm fires; big coats and red wine. It is a base for so many activities and attracts all walks of life. There is always an event or festival going on! It’s a humble area, where it’s not uncommon to see a few horses tied up outside a pub whilst their owners are getting a parma.

My family is now in the process of designing and building a home at the base of Mt Buller, I’m so excited to create a base for our kids to learn to ski and to host friends and family. We live in the outer Eastern suburbs of Melbourne, so we’re already a quarter of the way to the region! My favourite part of the drive is when the snow-capped tip of the mountain comes into view for the first time. It’s pretty magical.

Being there reminds me of when I was an adventurous twenty-year-old – driving my red Ford Laser, listening to Chicane on the mini disc on repeat while learning to snowboard. It reminds me of finding love, hiking to the summit to watch the sunset, sliding down to the Kooroora hotel on a tray from the Abom canteen. But more than anything what I love about our time at Mount Buller is embracing something that unites friends and family in a spirited way, without devices and technology, with a long (ish) drive where we can sing loud and sleep soundly.

Today, I’m sharing with you some of my favourite places to stay, eat and shop in the Mt Buller / Mansfield region – just in time for the slopes to open on June 22nd!

Simone spent a lot of her 20s snowboarding on Mount Buller and around the world! Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files.

A beautiful mountain vista. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design files.

The 2020 Mount Buller season will be opening on June 22nd. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design files.

Simone on the slopes. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files.

The absolutely exquisite Whitehorse Village accommodation. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files. Styling – Caitlin Coghlan.

Snow luxury at Whitehorse Village! Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files.

Unbelievable views from Chalet 5 at Whitehorse Village. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files. Styling – Caitlin Coghlan.

Bath with a view! Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files. Styling – Caitlin Coghlan.

Room with a view! Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files. Styling – Caitlin Coghlan.

STAY

Chalet 5 Whitehorse Village  Perched high in the Alpine Ranges, Chalet 5 at Whitehorse Village is a luxury hotel-inspired destination that is about as fabulous as it gets. Think high-end apartment, where the city meets the mountains. The luxury space is softened with textiles, books and objects. And I would be remiss not to mention the extraordinarily comfortable bed! My favourite parts included THE VIEW… the bedroom with a view… the bathroom with a view… and the proximity to the mountain. And did I say THE VIEW?

This dream accommodation is best suited to couples, families or small groups. We had four ladies there and it was super cosy to sit around in the evenings with some chocolate and a cuppa. Could not recommend more highly if you’re after an extra special snow escape!

Chalet 5, Whitehorse Village  Whitehorse Village Road Mount Buller

The handsome interiors at Black Cockatoo. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files.

Fresh, seasonal produce at Black Cockatoo. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files.

The perfect place for an après ski cocktail. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files.

Spurs Iron Maiden Smokehouse located at the top of the Northside Express chairlifts. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files.

An added bonus to Spurs is warming up by the smoker! Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files.

Brisket and pulled pork roll from Spurs. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files.

A chic fit-out at The Villager. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files.

Simone with her cheese fondue and beer… is there anything better? Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files.

Corn ribs from The Villager. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files.

Cheese fondue and beer from The Villager. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files.

The Villager. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files.

Eat + Drink 

Black Cockatoo No day on the ski fields is complete without a reason to get changed and head out on the town – that’s how I met my husband after all! Black Cockatoo is an architecturally designed restaurant that is perfect for an apres-ski drink. The interiors are a handsome mix of raw copper, leather, wood and charcoal, paired with amazing views of Mount Stirling. It’s got a moody, Aussie alpine aesthetic that feels both comfortable and luxurious.

The sharing plates-style menu is filled with influences from all over the world, in a distinctly modern Australian style that makes the most of fresh produce and simple ingredients. The cocktails were ‘designer’ but most importantly, downright delicious. Bookings are essential for this hot spot!

Black Cockatoo  207 Summit Rd Mount Buller 

Spurs Iron Maiden Smokehouse Situated at the top of the Northside Express chairlift, Spurs has one of the best views on the mountain. We were lucky enough to be ski-dooed over, VIP style! This American-style smokehouse is exactly what you want to eat for a hearty snack on the slopes. I had the brisket and pulled pork roll which was DELICIOUS – light yet filling, and something I wouldn’t do by myself at home. There’s also the added advantage of keeping warm by the smoker whilst you have your lunch!

Spurs Iron Maiden Smokehouse Top of Northside Express chairlift Mount Buller

The Villager A little hidden away, The Villager is a great bar/casual dining spot with super cool interior design. The substantial kitchen menu features small and large plates – I tried the fondue (what’s not to love about beer + cheese?) and corn ribs with tomato and lime salsa and smoked chilli dressing. Would recommend!

The Villager 2 The Avenue Mount Buller

Mansfield Coffee Merchant in Mansfield. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files.

Simone’s coffee hot spot on the way up the mountain. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files.

Locals chat and drink coffee at Mansfield Coffee Merchant. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files.

Coffee 

Mansfield Coffee Merchant A trip to the mountains generally involves a crack-of-dawn departure time, so a coffee spot on the way is a must. Now that we have bought land in that area – one must know where their daily coffee can be had – and the Mansfield Coffee Merchant is it. We got chatting with a really lovely older man while we were there, who told us he visited every day for coffee. During our conversation another fellow came up, who we assumed was his son, but it turned out it was just someone from the community who checked in daily with his older neighbour. This is what I mean about the community spirit here – it’s so wholesome!

Bustling, busy, efficient and cosy, I love to pop in for a little coffee and cake here on the drive up.

Mansfield Coffee Merchant 23 Highett St Mansfield

Treasures found at Vintage Traders Emporium. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files.

Vintage Traders Emporium in Mansfield. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files.

Harvest Wholefoods for healthy snacks and organic produce. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files.

Simone shopping at Harvest Wholefoods. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files.

Shop 

Vintage Traders Emporium This massive warehouse in Mansfield is a vintage-lovers dream! Here you’ll find an amazing collection of vintage, retro, pre-loved and recycled pieces including miscellaneous bric-a-brac, fashion, ceramics, plants, local and homemade items. A real treasure hunt with heaps of space to roam – I left with a ceramic bowl and a cactus, to give you an idea of the variety found here!

Vintage Traders Emporium 10 Crosbys Ln Mansfield

Harvest Wholefoods A great little health food store and organic grocer to stock up on delicious, healthy snacks on your way up to the mountain.

Harvest Wholefoods 19/20 Highett St Mansfield

BYO picnic by the picturesque Delatite River in Mirimbah Park. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files. Styling – Caitlin Coghlan.

Delatite Winery (kitchen closed until further notice). Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files.

The Cellar Door at Delatite Winery (kitchen closed until further notice). Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files.

The beautiful Mansfield region. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files.

Winter sunshine. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files.

A small church in the Mansfield region. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files.

Misty Mansfield roads. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files.

Do

Picinic at Mirimbah Park Positioned on the gorgeous Delatite River is Mirimbah Park – an idyllic spot for a BYO picnic on your way up or back from the mountain! There’s also a playground nearby to occupy the kids. The perfect activity for a sunny afternoon.

Delatite Wines Located on a picturesque rise at the base of Mt Buller, Delatite Winery enjoys spectacular views over the vineyards towards the mountain. The small family-run winery was established in 1982, and these days enjoys a lovely little Cellar Door with a roaring fire where you can snack on grazing boards. Although the Cellar Door kitchen is currently closed due to COVID-19, the retail wine shop is open for business!

Delatite Wines Cnr Stoneys Rd & Pollards Rd, Mansfield

[forextraderpost]

Vacation Checklist for Option Traders

Summer vacations are in full swing. As everyone rushes to their favorite social distancing hot spot, traders are often left wondering what to do with their positions and trades while away. Since we cannot build automated and trigger-based strategies yet, though it’s coming soon from Option Alpha, we wanted to help with a simple but effective checklist you can use to square up your account before going off the grid. Make no mistake, though. This checklist isn’t just for when you go on vacation. It’s also a great workflow to help you before an extended business trip or busy week at home when you have limited time to manage your account.

Today’s episode is a vacation checklist for options traders you can use to square up your account before going off the grid, so you make sure you don’t get any surprises when you turn your computer back on after a few days of market activity.

This checklist will also work for other situations where you will have limited time to manage your account.

A note on automated and trigger-based trading: Subscribe to our YouTube channel and check out our videos showcasing some of the new features (trigger-based trading strategies that auto-respond to different scenarios) of the auto trading platform we are close to releasing.

The Vacation Checklist

Major market events always seem to happen right when you go on vacation. This checklist does not have to be completed in order. It can be used in any situation where you have limited time to manage your account.

Forecast

Check if there are any upcoming earnings announcements for trades that you’re currently in.

Check for Fed announcements, payroll numbers, and other economic data releases.

Check for upcoming dividend payments. People often forget to check when their positions go ex-dividend and focus on the contract’s expiration date. Then, they go through a dividend cycle and get assigned shares, or have a margin call and are caught off guard.

So, forecast what’s coming when you’re gone, starting at the individual company or ETF level, all the way up to the macro view (What is the Fed doing? Are there any major announcements that might impact the market? Etc.).

If you can’t withstand these events, maybe start removing or hedging your positions.

Remove trades

What can you take off right now and not leave your portfolio unbalanced?

Maybe you have some positions that have been on for a while and are running up towards expiration, or you have positions trading at a small profit or loss, and you don’t want to roll the dice and leave the positions on while you are away.

If you trade iron condors and iron butterflies, maybe you can take off the inside strikes of positions and leave the outside wings on to expire and act as a natural hedge.

Check for protection

This gets down to looking not just at your individual positions but also the whole portfolio and asking yourself questions like, “Do I need to hedge or adjust my portfolio right now? Am I neutral to the market? Am I too bearish? Am I too bullish? Where do I have a lot of exposure? Is it in a particular expiration cycle?”

For example, if you trade five weekly contracts out, you might want to remove near-term positions or roll your contracts out to a further expiration date to give you more time.

If you have a single stock position, the easiest thing you can do to protect it from a catastrophic loss is to simply buy a collar. You don’t have to hold collar strategies all the way to expiration. You could execute a costless collar for just the week that you’re gone. For more information on costless collars, check out Show 30: The Zero Cost Way to Protect Stock Gains with Options.

You could also buy some VIX options, or some laddered VIX options, just for the period that you’re gone.

If you have a lot of defined-risk positions, like credit spreads, iron condors, and iron butterflies, maybe you don’t need to do anything because you’re comfortable holding those positions and knowing that they are defined-risk from the start.

These are tough questions everybody should be asking, even when they aren’t about to go on vacation. Most people don’t ask these questions, even though it takes 15 minutes to go through your portfolio and make these rational decisions about what to do.

Use advanced orders

If you’re midway through the expiration cycle, you can do things like place GTC (‘Good ‘Til Canceled’) orders at your profit targets that take profits while you’re gone. This doesn’t remove the position if you get closer to expiration but allows you to close the trade if the security moves through a profit window as you get closer to expiration.

It’s not the best idea to use stop-loss orders because they have been shown to create more losing trades. Instead, create a defined-risk trade where you know exactly how much you could lose if you go all the way to expiration.

Make notes

Group trades together, make notes, journal, and game plan in advance of going on vacation. Start to think about what you would do if certain scenarios played out. If you don’t do this, you can be caught off guard when something happens.

This means that if you get a small window of time to check your positions while you’re away, you can quickly move in the way you had planned based on whatever scenario is in front of you.

You can use grouping features inside of most broker platforms to organize your trades so that you know which ones you have to really pay attention to.

Go mobile

You need to learn how to make trades on your mobile phone. Trading apps allow for mobile trading, and this is a direction things are moving in.

To learn this skill, you can practice by doing mobile trading on your phone while in front of the computer.

Your phone is a great tool because if you’re in a remote location or situation where opening your laptop to make trades is inappropriate, it provides a great way to double-check your positions, make adjustments, close positions if you need to, exit, roll, etc.

Option Trader Q&A w/ Daniel

Trader Q&A is our favorite segment of the show because we get to hear from one of our community members and help answer their questions live on the air. Today’s question comes from Daniel:

Hi, Kirk. This is Daniel from Melbourne. I’ve been trading futures and stocks for about 10 years and I started trading options this year after discovering your awesome website and podcast. My question is about how to trade in the current low-volatility environment. Should I be placing trades regularly, even though there’s really no stocks that are over the 70 IV rank? I think at the moment – not even any over 50. I’m just wondering how I should be going about selecting trades, whether I should be sitting on my hands, or whether I should still be mechanically entering trades every day or week? Thanks, Kirk and keep up the great work.

Remember, if you’d like to get your question answered here on the podcast or LIVE on Facebook & Periscope, head over to OptionAlpha.com/ASK and click the big red record button in the middle of the screen and leave me a private voicemail. There’s no software to download or install and it’s incredibly easy.

Thank You for Listening!

I’m humbled that you took the time out of your day to listen to our show, and I never take that for granted. If you have any tips, suggestions or comments about this episode or topics you’d like to hear me cover, just add your thoughts below in the comment section.

Want automatic updates when new shows go live? Subscribe to the Option Alpha Podcast on iTunes, Google Play, SoundCloud, iHeart Radio or Stitcher right now before you forget – it’s fast and easy.

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Please kindly consider taking just 60-seconds to leave an honest Review on iTunes for The Option Alpha Podcast. Ratings and reviews are extremely helpful and greatly appreciated. They do matter in the rankings of the show, and I read each and every one of them!

Also, if you think someone else in your social circle could benefit from the topic covered today, please share the show using the social media buttons you see. This helps spread the word about what we are trying to accomplish here at Option Alpha, and personal referrals like this always have the greatest impact.

About The Author

Kirk Du Plessis

Kirk founded Option Alpha in early 2007 and currently serves as the Head Trader. In 2018, Option Alpha hit the Inc. 500 list at #215 as one of the fastest growing private companies in the US. Formerly an Investment Banker in the Mergers and Acquisitions Group for Deutsche Bank in New York and REIT Analyst for BB&T Capital Markets in Washington D.C., he’s a Full-time Options Trader and Real Estate Investor.

He’s been interviewed on dozens of investing websites/podcasts and he’s been seen in Barron’s Magazine, SmartMoney, and various other financial publications. Kirk currently lives in Pennsylvania (USA) with his beautiful wife and three children.

The post Vacation Checklist for Option Traders appeared first on Forex Trader Post.

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[lancecarr]

I was out of work so created my own TV series, from Camera Operator to Executive Producer

I was out of work so created my own TV series. Easy to say but in the real world this was a tough choice.

For many years I was a gun for hire says Phil Harris Executive Producer of the River to Reef tv series now in its 15th year of production. Shooting and editing as a freelancer for corporate clients in the days prior to editing on computers is where I began. The corporate world had lots of work and no one else but a pro could do it due the equipment being so expensive and specialized. Computers and digital changed all that and the reality soon hit home that anybody could now shoot and edit even though initially the final creative quality was dubious to say the least. Work quickly dropped off and I wondered what I was going to do to make a living.

A friend asked me if there was one TV show in the world you would like to be the producer of what would it be? Days of our lives was my answer. What and why he asked. Because it goes on forever and it’s the same gig every week. My answer soon became the challenge to create my own job and secure my future with a tv series that I owned and benefitted from. I was sick of the feast and famine of the corporate work and the many tv commercials I shot and edited for several ad agencies and commercial broadcasters. It was not uncommon for me to be watching one of Australia’s largest national free to air broadcasters’ channel 9 and I had made every ad in a three-minute break, just to give you some idea of how many adds I made back then.

Phil Harris early on in his career filming a documentary

Fast forward to River to Reef. But a fishing show! Let me make it super clear, I am not a fisherman and have never been bitten by the bug and the best have tried to get me hooked. How this came about is another story in itself so I won’t go there for now. But it was very clear that a tv series was the way I wanted to go. The subject was there and I knew the right person to front not only the camera but to find the money to finance this. With Glen Knight the show host and sales persons we produced two pilot episodes and our first sponsors check was for $2,000 two weeks later. We were off and running with other sponsors soon signing up. I shot and edited the first 45 x 30-minute episodes single handed as well as creating the web site and all the marketing material to support Glen as sales person.

Filming at sea does have its challenges

From humble beginnings on community channel 31 Melbourne back in the analogue days the show soon garnered a cult following and syndication on all the community channels including Brisbane, Adelaide and Perth quickly followed. Our ratings then we a combined 360,000 viewers per episode and we made one episode per week. After 50 episodes we also supplied regional channel 10 and since then the show has been on Foxtel, ONE HD and 7 Mate. But this wasn’t enough I wanted global appeal so did a deal with an international distributor and today the little channel 31 show is in 40 countries in about 20 languages.

Today in Australia this model is quite common however tv land has changed and as most of us know tv ratings are shrinking as are sponsor dollars. My experience so far tells me that sponsors aren’t prepared to spend online like they do on tv. Most still don’t take online seriously however this will change in time and as the traditional Australian commercial tv networks disappear and they certainly will.

As a camera operator/editor that by default eventually became an EP, the one thing that was farthest from my mind and something I did not sign up for was dealing with on screen talent. Don’t get me wrong I love working with all sorts of people and I’m told I am pretty easy to get along with. I find there’s nothing more satisfying than working with highly skilled presenters and actors, however I have had occasions with one stand out where I had to fire key on screen talent while shooting on location due to them thinking it was a vacation and not wanting to work while I was paying them.

My speciality is producing brand funded content. This is sponsored content by brands that want to attract customers to their products. While that’s great and fantastic I have a golden rule, entertain first and educate with product second. This so far seems to work for the sponsor and the viewer but it’s a balancing act that can easily swing too far one way or the other.

As an EP 95% of my time is spent raising finance and 5% actually working on the production. Newbies and people not familiar with how commercial tv works in Australia are dumbfounded by the minefield of people wanting to put their hands in your pocket. Here are my top 5 pieces of advice to anybody aiming to be an independent EP.

1. Everyone wants a piece of the money you have raised.

2. The commercial broadcasters in Australia are unique. We buy the airtime to screen our productions, that’s if they like what they see and airtime doesn’t come cheap.

3. Beware of anyone distributing your programme. We have had many companies distribute our DVD’s including online platforms and international broadcast distributors and are yet to see any substantial profit. The catch is in the detail of the contract and the term “after costs” and the costs are rarely capped so up and up they go until there is very little to give back to the producer.

4. If you are outsourcing your post production avoid paying hourly rates as this is often abused. In place have the post company or editor quote on each completed episode up front. This way there are no surprises but make sure they understand it’s only complete once you have approved it as complete and to your exacting standards.

5. This is the big one. You as EP need to be highly motivated and a self-starter. You are the driving force and the only person you can rely on. You come up with the big idea in the first place and spend a lot of time building and fine tuning your proposal before contacting and convincing your ideally targeted potential sponsor/partners that you have the perfect way of helping them sell or brand their products or services to your audience. Once that is done, then and only then you find your crew and talent and do the deal with the broadcaster all the time dealing with your clients/sponsors expectations.

I’m often asked by friends, “so how do you make money with so many costs?”.

It’s a simple answer. Have an accurate as possible budget and a great proposal, go sell, sell, sell, to sponsors or as I call them partners. Cut the best deals you can on every aspect of production without compromising too much on the quality and do the best broadcast deal you can and what’s left after tax is yours.

I’ve got to be honest, it’s not an easy gig but very satisfying when it all works and your partner/sponsors are slapping you on the back due to increased market share for their products and the audience love your show.

There is one last key point I’d like to mention, when it comes to having that great idea for a show think very carefully about who will put money into it and what’s in it for them. When selling focus on that last bit. The key is “what’s in it for them” not what’s in it for you.

The post I was out of work so created my own TV series, from Camera Operator to Executive Producer appeared first on Video & Filmmaker magazine.

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[drtanstravels]

Around this time each year since we’ve moved back to Singapore, my mate, Owen, likes to make a trip over to hang out and do a bit of a journey somewhere in South-East Asia. Last year we ended up in Bangkok, Thailand for a few days and the previous year had us eating and drinking in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. The time we had in Bangkok must’ve left a bit of an impression, because Owen decided he wanted to do it again, even staying in the same hotel, but there would be a slight difference this time around for a couple of reasons — Due to varying circumstances, both good and bad, he had come into a bit of disposable cash in the lead up to this trip. As an added bonus, this also meant he could bring his girlfriend, Rochelle, so I obviously asked Anna to tag along, too, on a much needed break after the insanely busy year she’d had. The initial plan was them to arrive in Singapore on December 26 and the rest would be as follows:

We’d all stay in Singapore until December 28 when we would fly over to Bangkok, Anna and myself taking a later flight than Owen and Rochelle.

Anna and I would be in Bangkok until January 1, when we would fly back to Singapore due to Anna having to work the following day.

Owen and Rochelle would fly up north to Chiang Mai on January 2.

On January 7 they’d both fly back to Bangkok to spend another couple of nights.

Owen and Rochelle would return to Singapore on January 9 to hang out a bit more.

Let’s not forget that Anna was involved in this trip now and she likes to spoil people when they visit. She’s also aware that Rochelle suffers chronic back pain so she took it upon herself to add this little footnote to the trip:

On January 11 we would catch a ferry over to Batam Island in Indonesia and stay at a private resort where her and Rochelle would get massages while Owen and I drink by the pool.

We’d take the ferry back to Singapore on January 13 and Owen and Rochelle would fly back to Melbourne, Australia that evening.

Owen had been excited about this trip for months after he booked it all, sending me constant updates of how many days, hours, and minutes it would be until they arrived. I was excited, too, because we always have a great time on these trips, it’s a blast having Owen here, and this time we could show Rochelle around, as she hasn’t really seen much of this part of the world. Everything was going according to plan until I received this message on Christmas night:

Everyone I know had been having trouble with flights around Christmas, including my friend, Liam Collins, and his fiancé who were stranded in Changi Airport, Singapore for almost two days due to constant canceled flights and delays when they were trying to return to Australia. For Owen and Rochelle, their only alternative was to pay AU$1,700 (US$1,053) each for a one-way ticket with QANTAS, which is a bit pricey for a flight to Singapore so it now appeared that, instead of getting in at 5:00pm on Wednesday, December 26, they were now scheduled to arrive at 1:50pm the following day. Let’s see how that goes…

Thursday, December 27, 2018 I messaged Owen when they were at Tullamarine Airport in Melbourne and all seemed to be going smoothly. In a weird coincidence, another friend of ours that we hadn’t seen for a long time would be around for a substantial portion of this trip, too. When Anna and I had our wedding in Malaysia in 2011, one of my old friends and groomsman, Pat Corrigan, brought a girl called Len Gonzales as his guest and she hit it off well with Anna and all of my friends. We hadn’t seen her since, but I occasionally hear from her on Facebook and she now lives in Bangkok. In a bizarre twist of fate, not only was she in Singapore that day, she was staying in the exact same hotel as Owen and would be on the same flight back to Bangkok as Anna and myself the next day! As luck would have it, Owen and Rochelle’s flight was delayed by another hour, but it wasn’t anything major. When they arrived they checked into their hotel located just around the corner from our place, Hotel Nostalgia, and then Owen utilised his drunken GPS from previous visits to swing around in order for them to hang out and play with Kermit for a bit, but before long Anna had realised that this was the perfect excuse for her and Rochelle to go and get foot massages, leaving Owen and myself to pull up a stool each at Coq & Balls for a few drinks. Anna messaged me when the massages were done and we went to another place that Owen always visits repeatedly when he’s in town, Joo Chiat Beef King, him trying to think of ways to smuggle the broth base home in order to make his own the entire time he was eating. In fact, leading up to this trip he had been talking about the beef noodles almost as much as the actual holiday itself! Once done, we all went back to Coq & Balls, Len later joining us after getting misdirected by Google Maps, and settled in for the night. Due to it being only two days after Christmas, there weren’t many of my local drinking buddies there as most of them had gone overseas for the holidays. Still, we had a great night, just the five of us plus my friend, Jasper, even though Anna had to leave a little earlier than the rest of us to get up for work the next day. Here’s how it looked:

Judging by his Facebook post, Owen was pretty pumped to get the noodles

All of us at Coq & Balls

A selfie from Len’s perspective

Friday, December 28, 2018 Anna had to work on Friday so we were going to fly out at about 8:30pm, but Owen and Rochelle were leaving in the afternoon so they swung by our place and watched the basketball with me for a bit until it was time for them to make a move, as Owen’s team, the Portland Trailblazers, were playing the Golden State Warriors, a game the Blazers took in an ugly overtime win. Len’s plan was to go into the city and look for a camera so I just went to the gym in the afternoon, followed by a bit of writing.

Len’s quest for a camera was to continue at Changi Airport as she had decided to go early and check out the range in duty free and once Anna was back from work we caught a cab to the airport too. When we checked in, though, there was a small problem — Despite the fact that we had pre-selected our seats, I had somehow been given a window seat, something into which I am physically incapable of fitting. Len had an aisle seat up the back and was happy to switch so that made the flight a little more comfortable for myself and whoever was initially supposed to be sitting next to me. We eventually landed in Don Mueang Airport in Bangkok and I completely forgot how terrible that airport is, but then it dawned on me that it really isn’t that much worse than any of the New York airports. I turned on my phone and was immediately inundated with messages and photos from Owen telling me they were at Bangkok Bar, maps of the best routes there from the airport, best drop-off points, most cost-effective means of transport, and pictures showing the bar’s proximity to our hotel, which was directly across the road. Len got in a cab to her hotel with the promise of meeting us later in the night, Anna and I got in another taxi so we could check into our place, the Ibis Suites, and then we went down to Bangkok Bar. It was the same bar that Owen and myself had spent the bulk of our time in last time we were here, complete with the exact same awesome metal band playing, but Owen was absolutely shit-faced when we got there on this occasion. A little background information on the origin of the title of this post is probably necessary at this point; I really only drink beer and Anna prefers rosé if she can get it, otherwise she will usually have whatever red wine they have. Owen had adopted the curious drink choice of gin and Coke in recent years, which causes a lot of confusion when ordering a round, and Rochelle wears a morphine patch due to chronic pain resulting from nerve damage in her back so she doesn’t drink often, generally just opting for Sprite so a pint, a rosé, a gin and Coke, and a Sprite was what would become our standard drink order over the course of this trip to the befuddlement of anyone who served us the first few times around. Anyway, Len eventually joined us and we sat back and watched the band, they later came and hung out with us after the show as they do every time, and we met a few other cool people over the course of a great first night in town:

Anna in the background, Rochelle, yours truly, a plastered Owen, and some random person who ended up drinking with us

Anna and the singer from the band

Myself, the singer, and bunch of other people we hung out with that night

Saturday, December 29, 2018 It was pretty late when we got back to the hotel the previous night and we also knew that, based on the condition Owen was in when we arrived at the pub, he was probably going to be out of order for the bulk of the day so Anna and myself decided to get something to eat and go shopping. We certainly weren’t wrong about Owen according to the messages I received that afternoon (below, right) where he also pointed out he had 14 gins and Coke that night. As you can see, Anna and myself did what we always do when we’re in Bangkok, we went and got some awesome, cheap noodles. That trek into town began with a coffee or two each at StrEATs, the cafe in the bottom of our hotel, before catching a taxi to the Ratchathewi district of Bangkok, where the Victory Monument stands. We got out of our taxi at the same time as a woman, resplendent in a full Louis Vuitton tracksuit, got off her scooter and Anna and myself began our mission; to track down some noodles. We walked down several streets, dropping into jewellery stores and passing stalls selling ready-to-eat pig faces and beef tongue, both of which were tempting, I absolutely love beef tongue, but we had noodles on our collective minds and soon we found them. We stumbled upon a store selling small bowls that you can eat in one or two bites, similar to the ones we found in Bangkok in December 2016 when someone managed to eat 40 bowls in an hour. This time a small bowl of noodles would set us back‎ ฿12 (US$0.37) with a range of appetisers and side dishes available for no more than‎ ฿59 (US$1.85) so we got ourselves a few bowls of noodles each and a couple of appetisers, but realistically, we could’ve eaten one of everything on the menu each, however, Anna also loves Thai desserts, especially mango sticky-rice, and she was determined to hunt some down in the mall.

Anna insisted I take this picture for the terrible eye pun

Looking around StrEATs

Faces and tongues

That is a lot of tongues

Cupping the balls on a pool table in a secondhand jewellery store

Not sure if it’s a genuine LV

Should be something good around here

Just found lunch

Me in the restaurant

Part of what we ate

Anna out the front

Once we were done with lunch we walked down to Siam Square, a shopping mall Anna loves to look at every time we’re in town, taking in the Victory Monument en route. Siam Square has some pretty unique shops inside so you see a lot of interesting characters floating around there, too, such as the two nuns having coffee in a store with the slogan “Eating, Flirting, Enjoy.” As per usual, Anna bought a ton of stuff, especially shoes, as well as gifts for friends and colleagues, got her mango sticky-rice, and I got a t-shirt and matching wallet with weird cartoons of Steve Buscemi, Donald Trump, Freddie Mercury and the like hanging out, but after a couple of hours we decided to catch a taxi back to the hotel, passing a massive parade on the way, so she could get a two-hour foot-massage and pedicure. When Anna went into the massage place, I checked out a secondhand bookstore on our street, but as always happens when Owen visits South-East Asia, from out of nowhere came a clap of thunder and then a torrential downpour similar to having an unending bucket poured over you. I waited under an awning for a while, but it didn’t appear to be ending anytime soon so I just braved it and went back to room, towelled off, and read a book while I waited for Anna to return. When Anna came back the rain had stopped, but the streets were completely flooded, more than ankle-deep in some parts. Owen and Rochelle were just going to eat dinner at a cafe in their hotel so Anna and I decided to do the same, going to StrEATs again, only to be told the kitchen was closed so we had no choice but to wade down the road and find somewhere else to eat, Anna’s main concern being the safety of her newly-painted toenails. Fortunately, her pedicure handled the water just fine and we found a restaurant that had a decent looking menu and also boasting that they “serve special pizza.” Visitors to this part of Asia, particularly neighbouring Cambodia, would be aware of what happy pizza is, however, drug laws in Thailand are extreme, with possession of weed being treated the same by police as having heroin  so my guess a “special pizza” wouldn’t be quite the same thing as what their neighbours over the border sell. The weather was a bit calmer after dinner, the streets still flooded though, but we walked down to meet Owen and Rochelle at Bangkok Bar again. Midway through having some drinks, Rochelle decided to get a foot-massage, something that Anna was easily tempted into again, leaving me and Owen to drink and chat until their return. When the night ended we made our way back to our respective hotels, Owen stopping briefly for a photo next to a local guy wearing a Dominique Wilkins college jersey and red mohawk wig who had passed out against the window at McDonald’s. Strangely enough, it wouldn’t be the last time we would see that fellow:

Walking toward Siam Square

The Victory Monument

Some creepy mannequins in the mall

Anna got what she wanted

Subtle

I don’t know if that’s the demographic they were aiming for

Is there any other type?

I would’ve got this if they had my size

No farting in this cab

Part of the procession on the way back to the hotel

Another part

This got really deep, really quickly

Don’t worry, Anna, your nails will be fine

I guess she’s accepted her feet’s fate

My guess is it is just regular pizza

Owen and the Human Highlight Rooster

Sunday, December 30, 2018 It was New Year’s Eve eve and we knew the following night would be a rather large one so the four of us decided to take it relatively easy on Sunday. Well, at least by our standards, anyway. The day started at Chatuchak Weekend Market, a market Anna and myself always visit while we’re in Thailand, as does it seem, a large portion of the world (this is a direct quote from the website, hence the grammatical errors):

Chatuchak Weekend Market (or Jatujak Market; Thai: ตลาดจตุจักร) is one of the world’s largest weekend markets covers area of 70 rai (27 Acres) altogether divided into 27 Sections, contains more than 15,000 booths selling goods from every part of Thailand. Chatuchak Weekend Market,is very popular shopping centre to Thais and has become a popular place to tourists and foreigners who stay in Bangkok, has over 200,000 visitors each day(SAT-SUN) 30% is foreign. There are almost everything can be found here at a bargaining local price (not a tourist price), and most vendors actually come from local factories, like antique wood carving, clay handicrafts, local souvenirs from every parts of Thailand, Buddhist amulets, wooden funitures, hand made decorated flowers, plant, ceramic wares, dools, Thai Bejarong, Chinese wares, graden decorated plants, stones, trendy fashions, silk, hill-tribe outfits, fluffy dogs and more miscellaneous, etc.

You just can’t pass up something this awesome

The market’s website is being a little bit humble there, because according to Wikipedia, Chatuchak Weekend Market “is the world’s largest and most diverse weekend market, with over 200,000 – 300,000 visitors on a daily basis.” I’m also of the opinion that it must be one of the easiest places in the world in which to get lost. Anyway, one of our first stops was at a roast pork stall where we grabbed a small bucket each and we were on our way, looking mainly at t-shirts, vintage items, and stupid outfits for our dog. Probably one of my best purchases at the market was this odd little Japanese number (above, left), featuring a man paragliding using his stretched out scrotum with his testicles between his toes to get full surface-area out of his nut-sack. Incidentally, when we had later returned to Singapore, both Anna and I asked some Japanese friends what it was all about and we were both told he was Tar-chan from the manga and anime series Jungle King Tar-chan. A little more about Tar-chan himself, the dude on my shirt (the salient points are in blue bold if you can’t be bothered reading it all):

Tar-chan is the main character of the series. He is a young man who was raised in the African wild. His address is: African Savanna, Three Trees 7-4-10. He was abandoned in the savanna as a baby and found and raised by Etekichi. Other than this his past is unknown. Though there are often many humorous flashbacks to his past, whether or not any of them are true is unclear. Tar-chan’s hobby is cooking, and his specialty dish is eggplant with mustard and misozuke. He is a dangerous drunk. He loves nature and animals and protects them from poachers. He can imitate the special abilities and speak the language of various animals, because he was raised by animals himself. With his superhuman reflexes and strength, he is a well-known fighter around the world, yet he is usually forced by his wife Jane to do the cleaning and supply the food. He does not seem interested in protecting his reputation as a grappler though; only in protecting the peace of the jungle. When Tar-chan first met Jane he could not speak human language well. He was able to master submission holds after reading a fighting book for only one night, which demonstrates amazing mental ability. However, he still lacks general common sense. Tar-chan has super human abilities and strength and typically fights with his bare hands, but there are times when he will use weapons such as a blowgun and boomerang. He also has superhuman recovery, and has been known to recover quickly from injuries that take a normal man several weeks to recover from. When he takes on too much damage, he powers up by defecating, known as Poop Power Up (うんこひりパワーアップ Unkohiri Pawā Appu). His body is extremely flexible, and he can bend backwards to lick his own buttocks. Additionally, he can stretch the skin of his scrotum to glide, in a manner similar to a Japanese Giant Flying Squirrel. Although he is a brave man who cannot ignore those in danger, he is also an incredible pervert and treasures his many pornographic magazines left behind by tourists, which he collects. However, he said “To react to a beautiful girl is the instinct of the average man, the only one I truly love is Jane”.

Sounds a bit more interesting than regular old Tarzan — At least while watching Tar-chan, you wouldn’t have logical problems ruining the show for you that Tarzan presents, questions like why he doesn’t have a beard when he lives in the jungle without modern conveniences. Who cares? He can recover from any injuries by taking a massive dump! We continued around the market, Owen and myself stocking up on bizarre t-shirts, Anna and Rochelle getting some dresses, as well as Anna buying a costume for our dog that makes her look like a pineapple, just in time for Chinese New Year. Chatuchak Weekend Market all gets a bit similar after a few hours so we went over to a nearby flea market that takes place in front of, and inside, an old shopping mall. This place sold everything and I was tempted to purchase a couple of old Nintendo hand-held games, but there was no way of checking if they worked. I love looking through places like this and could’ve spent all day there, but it’s not everyone’s cup of tea so we moved on to our final stop of the night, yet another market in what appeared to be an old airfield, the Camp Vintage Flea Market. It is in fact the location where old train cars once sat and the original Train Night Market was held, however, now the place has aircraft hangar-inspired sheds with plenty of old cars and planes around. We had a quick look around, but one thing that separates the Camp Vintage Flea Market from the others that we had visited that day was that it also has a ton of great food to snack on and a lot of craft beers and other booze. Len was flying out to the Philippines the following day to spend New Year’s Eve, but she still had time to hang out with us for one last night of eating and drinking. Yes, I did purchase a t-shirt featuring a guy flying with the help of his enormous scrotum, but we saw plenty more that day:

A weird part of the flea market in the mall from a distance

I think they might be mannequins

Looking down on a very small portion of the flea market

Now at the Camp Vintage Flea Market

Walking around…

A close-up of one of the old planes

Not sure what’s going on here…

Monday, December 31, 2018 The closing day of what had become a hectic and crazy year was finally upon us! In the 12 months leading up to this day, Anna and I had traveled together to Thailand three times (not including the current trip), Ecuador and the Galápagos Islands, Australia, Hawaii, Japan, China, Austria, Turkey, and South Korea with a few extra journeys abroad thrown in just for good measure for Anna alone, and now we were punctuating our year with one last night out in Bangkok.

Owen and Rochelle spent the bulk of their day shopping in MBK Center, while Anna and I explored areas around our hotel that we hadn’t seen yet and coming to a unanimous decision that we were not going anywhere nearer to Khao San Road, firstly because it would be painfully crowded, but also because it was almost certain that a group of young bogans would start a brawl. It wasn’t something we overheard people planning or anything, you could just tell. While we were walking around I received a message off Owen saying he had bought me a present; on previous occasions that I had been to Bangkok I had seen t-shirts for sale that had a picture of the shitty 90s pop group Hanson with ‘Nirvana‘ written beneath it in the text the grunge icons usually used to use, however, I could never find my size. I’m sure these shirts started out as a genuine mistake, but tourists found them amusing so they now still churn them out purposefully to make a few cheeky dollars. I still wanted one and when Owen and Rochelle were shopping, they stumbled upon one of the shirts that would fit me so they picked it up for me. Cheers, guys! After we had finished exploring and eating, Anna got a final massage for this trip, I read more of my book, and then it was time for the four of us to meet up and line our stomachs before the year came to a close. Some say that breakfast is the most important meal of the day, but that is 100% incorrect — The most important meal of the day is the one that you have immediately before commencing a big night out so as not to get too drunk too quickly. This only works, however, if you don’t accompany that meal with an entire carafe of red wine, just some simple, good ol’ fashioned poor judgement on Anna’s part. After dinner we went back down to our usual hangout for the night, Bangkok Bar, where a table was waiting out the front for us, as was the guy in the red singlet and wig that we had previously seen passed out in McDonald’s on Saturday night, this time clutching a bag full of homemade, thus most likely illegal, fireworks. The band from Friday night were playing again so our night was spent drinking, chatting, and just like last time Owen and myself were both here at the start of the year, laughing at old people dancing to a cover of Killing in the Name by Rage Against the Machine (LANGUAGE WARNING):

The night was advancing and Bangkok Bar was getting quite busy so Anna decided to go back across the road to use the bathroom in our hotel room. Owen, Rochelle, and myself just spent our night chatting amongst ourselves, as well as with random people who ended up at our table, including a guy who looked suspiciously like Josef Fritzl, but soon it was 11:30pm and it occurred to me that Anna had been gone for at least half an hour. I went up to our room and found her snoring on the bed so I checked to see if she was okay, an action met with a response of, “after I went to the toilet I decided to have a quick nap, but I think I’m just going to sleep now. You enjoy yourself.” She was fine and insistent that I go back down and count in the New Year with Owen and Rochelle, something I did that went off without any problems from the guy with the bag of homemade fireworks. I stuck around for another hour or two, but we were flying back to Singapore the next day so I didn’t want to overdo it, but it was definitely a fun culmination to a busy year:

My new Hanson/Nirvana t-shirt

Having dinner

All of us this time

With some random British guy who joined us

The last we would see of Anna that night

It got kind of busy

We flew out back to Singapore the following day, because Anna had to work on the Wednesday, while Owen and Rochelle stuck around for an extra night before flying north to Chiang Mai to look at temples, explore the old town, and play with elephants in rescue sanctuaries. After Chiang Mai, they came back down to Bangkok for a bit and then flew into Singapore on the evening of Wednesday, January 9. That night we went out had and some dinner and drinks in Robertson Quay and the following day they went and had a look around Bugis and Gardens by the Bay before meeting up with me for drinks one last time at Coq & Balls, but Friday is where the real fun on this next leg of the trip began.

Friday, January 11, 2019 – Sunday, January 13, 2019 Not only was Friday the day we would be going over to Batam Island to kick back in a private beachside villa for a few days, it also happened to be Rochelle’s birthday. Anna had the afternoon off work so Owen and Rochelle swung by our place around midday and we went to the market so they could have their favourite beef noodles for a final time. When Anna was done, she met up with us and we grabbed our luggage and took a cab to the ferry terminal. The terminal wasn’t too busy so we were through immigration in no time at all and, even though it is only 20km (12mi) off the Singaporean coast, Batam is technically in Indonesia, making this an international trip, allowing us to take advantage of the duty-free shop. The limit for alcohol is one litre (33.8 oz) so I got some beers, Anna bought some wine, Owen a bottle of gin, and Rochelle a bottle of rum, however, the lady serving us politely informed me that that was the amount allowed to be taken onto the island — We could sit in the terminal and drink as much as we could finish while we were waiting for our ferry, as long as we only bought a litre at a time. When they’re only charging S$8.30 (US$6.10) for three Heineken bottles, I’m going to take advantage of that offer so we sat around for the next hour, drinking and laughing, waiting for our ferry to arrive. Once aboard we started talking to a couple of older American men that were on the ferry who were traveling to Fishhead Island, a private island the pair own. Later on in our stay while we were relaxing in our pool, Owen and I were discussing what we would call our private island that we will no doubt purchase at some stage in the future. His suggestion was Bitchin’ Island, but I think I’d prefer to opt for something more regional-sounding, like Tam Pon. I guess we’ll just cross that bridge when we come to it.

When we arrived about 20 minutes later at our destination, Montigo Resort, we quickly checked into the resort and then boarded a golf cart to take us down to our three-storey beachside suite that would be home for the following two nights. We had a look around and this suite was awesome; the first floor was a kitchen, an enormous living room, bathroom, and then a patio area with a private infinity pool. The second floor had our two bedrooms with an ensuite each, and the top floor was a massive outdoor party area covered in cushions that could fit at least 50 people. Soon our bags arrived, but what we didn’t expect was that they had also brought with them a guitar, a chocolate cake, and seven other staff members to sing happy birthday to Rochelle.

Although there were plenty of amenities at the resort such as golf, an archery and shooting range, fishing trips, that type of think, we spent the three days there just hanging out in the pool, playing music, drinking and snacking on salted-egg-and-crab-flavoured seaweed chips that cause rancid farts, and just chatting about anything and everything, mainly Owen and myself reminiscing about the stupid stuff we used to get up to back in the day. During the day we would order room service and when we got hungry at night we went down to one of the several restaurants at the resort to eat and then sat in the outdoor bar with a shisha and some drinks until it closed at 11:00pm, at which time we would go back to the suite and continue to drink and chat. Rinse and repeat. The view from the suite was incredible, overlooking the beach with the Singapore skyline still visible in the distance. At one point it drunkenly occured to us that Singapore is an hour ahead of Indonesia so when we were looking at the Singapore skyline we were looking into the future. Deep. Anyway, take a look for yourself at how we spent the next couple of days:

My new Hanson/Nirvana t-shirt

Looking out the side of the ferry

Going down to our beachfront suite

Might go have a look at the patio area

How it all looked from the rooftop area

Happy birthday, Rochelle

The tide goes out a fair way at night

Starting to get dark

A massive insect on a window

The view Anna and I woke up to

Owen looking a little hungover on Saturday morning

Saturday turned out to be quite nice too

Singapore in the distance

These things give you room-clearing gas!

All we could see for the bulk of the day from the pool

may have spent a little too long in there

Getting a little stormy in the evening…

…but nice again later on

Sunday eventually arrived and we had to return to reality. Sundays at the ferry terminal can be a bit chaotic so Owen and Rochelle took an earlier ferry back just to make sure there weren’t any delays and they would be at the airport on time for their flight back to Melbourne that night. Anna and myself took it a little more leisurely, returning to Singapore later that evening.

As always, it was great getting to hang out with Owen and Rochelle, as Owen and myself always enjoy ourselves on these trips and tend to return with far more t-shirts than what we originally brought with us. Thanks, Anna, for booking the resort, we hope Rochelle had a great birthday and figure by now she has already realised that she left her birthday cake in the fridge at the resort. We can’t wait for your next trip over here, but we’ll see you both in April when we’re back in Melbourne for our friends’ wedding. Also, we’ll try to catch Len again when we’re next in the Philippines.

I guess now the best way to close this post would be with one of my favourite images of Thailand, no disrespect intended:

“A Pint, a Rosé, a Gin and Coke, and a Sprite, Thanks” Around this time each year since we've moved back to Singapore, my mate, Owen, likes to make a trip over to hang out and do a bit of a journey somewhere in South-East Asia.

[lagycart]

from sydney to melbourne - day 4.

started off the morning with a lovely cafe visit at newtown - cuckoo callay, which is dog friendly. enjoyed another lovely breakfast together with my sister in law’s cousin and their cute doggie.

food is really really good here, and the portion is pretty big too, totally stuffed after finishing my return of the macdaddy. the croissant is really crispy and fluffy, love the bacon and mac n cheese very much, as it is very flavorful. really nice cafe to hang out in, especially if you love dogs.

after breakfast and bidding farewell, we checked out from our airbnb and head to the airport by uber and proceed to the domestic terminal to check in to our flight to melbourne via virgin air. it’s so exciting, as this is my first time ever taking a domestic flight, lol.. there’s a long queue but the staff are pretty efficient. we did experience doing self check in and bag tagging though.

the whole flight is pretty pleasant, there is even free wifi on-board! and we landed slightly early as well. arriving in melbourne is exciting, another new city to explore~ took uber to our airbnb which is located right in the middle of the city, that took quite a while though.

our airbnb host is a nice lady which checked us in and briefly introduce the city to us, and also, she recommended us to check out the melbourne night noodle markets, which is a limited time event that is ending the next day. seeing that we have some free time before meeting our cousin for dinner, we decided to go to birrarung marr to check it out, after purchasing our myki card from southern cross station.

the place was quite packed when we arrived, just so many food stalls and so many visitors as well. we checked online and found a few recommendations to try, and proceed on a food truck tour, ehehe.. the skewers from hoy pinoy were yummy, such tender and flavorful meat. the fried tofu bao from wonderbao is so unique and taste awesome. zomg sando is famous for their wagyu beef katsu sando, and is highly recommended by our airbnb host, but we find the meat slightly overcooked, which makes it not as tender as we thought. also saw the masterchef 2017 winner, diana chan, at her stall selling her signature lobster mac n cheese dumplings, which is yummy. she is also a very friendly person who took photos and gave autographs to everyone that approaches her. black star pastry from sydney which sells the awesome watermelon cake is there as well.. and so much more, but we do have a limited time and stomach space, so that’s all we checked out, ehehe..

met our cousin and her husband for dinner at a wine bar in the city, embla, which is a really popular place. good thing that my cousin put her name down earlier to wait for a table, and we got one just shortly after we arrived. was so happy to meet them again, after a few years since we last saw each other in kl.

the menu in embla is pretty straight forward, yet it leaves to imagination what the dish would actually look like.. we ordered a bunch of them to share - there’s pork rillettes; blue eye, asparagus, capers, fine herbs; octopus, oregano, potato; rainbow trout, fennel, dill, elderflower; asparagus, goats milk, goats cheese; half roast chicken, sauce ‘vin john’, and a few more which i couldn’t recall the names. overall, the food is really unique, and each dish is not big, so sharing allows us to try quite a number of dishes. really really liked the asparagus and the roast chicken, they sounds simple, yet taste heavenly. i like how each dish is so unique and creative, giving such an unexpected dining experience. also enjoyed a glass of wine, recommended by our waitress, which goes really well with our meal.

definitely a super fun night with my cousin, got to catch up a lot with our lives and really really enjoyed all their travel adventure stories, which makes me want to travel even more~ hahaha..

from the dinner place, it is actually just a short walk back to our airbnb, so we did just that, and also stopped at woolworths metro to pick up some fruits as well.. totally love the convenience of staying in the city and has a nearby grocery. another enjoyable day in a brand new city, still so much more to be discovered.

more photos on my facebook album.

[flmoversreviews20-blog]

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The biggest hassle you would have to deal with is actually getting all of your items to the new location. Unless you have a moving truck or an extremely large vehicle, there's no way you would be able to get the job done. That's why there are long distance movers who are able to do the work for you. Soliciting their help is one of the most beneficial things you can to in terms of your move. As previously mentioned, long distance movers have the proper vehicle space to move all of your items efficiently and safely. When it comes to question time, you need to know your own expectations. Organise your questions and assess your moving situation BEFORE you start getting quotes. For example, how much are you moving? Will they charge extra to transport items such as pianos or tables? Are there Moving Companies In Houston hidden costs that aren't made explicit in the initial quote? Do they charge in hourly increments, or do you stop paying when they stop moving? Do they have a depot-to-depot fee? Yes, it's a lot of questions, but it's the only way you're going to get the best value for your money on moving day! All right, we have reviewed the first couple of points concerning long distance moving companies, of course you recognize they play a significant role. However is that all there is? Not by a long shot - you really can broaden your knowledge greatly, and we can help you. We know they are terrific and will aid you in your pursuit for solutions. It should not need to be said that you must conduct closer examination of all relevant points. The rest of the document will provide you with a few more essential factors to bear in mind. There are certain basic moving tips that need to be considered for making it an easy experience. For starters, don't delay the planning and execution for too long. More often than not, you have more stuff than energy. This takes a lot of time to pack up, discard or store. OStart general cleaning on storage spaces that you've emptied. By starting early, all you have to do is just a few minutes of work a day. This will lessen the time and task that you have to do on your final cleaning before vacating the premises. In this way you can also avoid any unexpected nervous breakdowns that are associated with last minute cleaning. This is where the moving checklist comes in. One of the great things about moving is that you're not alone- between 12% and 16% of American households move in any given year. That's more than 30 million people! Many of those people have contributed to several moving checklist in books and on websites. Use these checklists both as a source for your plan and a set of reminders for what needs to be done. Some of the items may not apply to your situation, but they should give you an excellent starting point. Gather important documents including insurance policies, birth certificates, school records etc. Store inside a good place. Ensure they are not lost in the move. Keep them separate from everything else. If you own a pet, make sure you gather its medical records too. If you are unable to discover their whereabouts all, your vet should be able to give you copies of one's pet's immunization records. You may have to get new tags and licenses when you're settled in your home.

[markspeedjnr]

How to build bridges

"Wait two secs, Dad; I haven't got my wallet." Despite lengthy preparations to ensure a smooth departure, it just wouldn't be the same if we were away on the first attempt. Although I can't see him as I make my way back inside, I know Dad is  shaking his head and frowning; he's going to tell me once again that I should keep my wallet in my pocket. Minutes later, after locating my wallet somewhere, I'm dancing spasmodically into his Fairlane Ghia, the quintessential Australian Executive's car, slapping my chest and pant-pockets as one final check I have all I need. Dad knows I like to drive his car.  It's not often that I get to drive a car built in the 1990's,  so he lets me drive it at any opportunity. Perhaps he thinks it will motivate me to get a real job, one that will enable me to afford a real car. As I have two hours of driving ahead of me, I adjust the seat, steering wheel and mirrors and press play on the CD player. Finally, we're on our way. * * * You wouldn't suspect by my face and accent that I have a name that's close to unpronounceable. Go on, try it; “Olszewski". Phonetically; "Ol-shev-skee", not "Ol-zoo- skee" or “Ol-ze-wez-skee" or any other derivative you pull out of that Anglicised linguistic lucky-dip. Just in case you were wondering; it's Polish. Sometime during Primary School, I started using the nickname “Ozi"; covertly stolen from my cousin, John. I idolised John because he was a footballer, a drummer and an Olszewski. All his mates called him "Oz" so, from then on, all my mates called me  “Oz".  As I was only nine or ten at the time, the theft of my cousin's moniker was puncalculated. But retrospectively, it was an attempt to hide my otherness. First names didn't exist  in Primary School and my surname just didn't cut it. I was true blue. I had blonde hair, blue eyes and olive skin. At lunchtimes, I played footy with kids who had names like Christie, Linley, Sutcliffe and Wilson. Somewhere else in the schoolyard, boys with names like Moratis, Georgio, Karifilowski and Ligavic played soccer. They were wogs. They had brown eyes, dark hair, weird lunches and surnames like mine. I wasn't a wog; do I look like a wog? But because of my name, not including the time I had the shit kicked out of me  by five Greeks, I was never a skip, either. * * * "Come on, come on Sardoola! Come on! Please." It is September the 1st 1939. Irena, a girl less than a month shy of eleven years old finds herself, at her father's request, dragging the family cow up an unsealed road towards a paddock recently inherited by her family. Her Grandfather, her Dziadek, is Mayor of Krasna. Krasna is the Polish word for beauty, but it is also a minuscule village that lay on hilly plains in the county of Kielce, around 250 kilometres south of Warsaw. The Mayor was perhaps alarmed at the rate at which his son's family was growing. In the eleven years since his son's marriage, the boy had already fathered six girls and, what's more, there was another baby on the way! "Well, if you chop wood, chips fly." the Mayor would tell his son and daughter-in-law, but it was of no use - he generously passed on a small plot of land. Only trouble is, the paddock is  miles from the farm,  and  poor Irena is struggling with the crowa, begging, dragging, grunting and  coaxing  it with clumps of grass to the  point of exhaustion.  It is because Irena is the  eldest of the children that she has  been given the difficult task of convincing Sardoola that she is not being dragged to slaughter but to a high hill of lush grass. It is the start of autumn, but the day feels like summer; nothing but heat, cloudless sky and the sound of insects in the light but constant breeze. The girl stops to rest. Peering across the plains, enveloped by green, she sees in the distance the Church tower of Krasna, the bridge over the River Tilica, the Swietrzyskie mountain range and  the train line leading to places she's never been. *  * * I was in Europe last year. I lived in London and from there I managed trips to Edinburgh, Dublin, Paris, Amsterdam and Munich. Sadly, I didn't have the time or money for Warsaw or Kielce or Krasna.  In my dreams,  I would have dropped in on distant relatives for a lunch of pierogi and kapoosta on my way from Scandinavia to the east. It wasn't to be.  Poland remains a figment of my imagination. *  * * "You know,  you really should keep your wallet in your pocket, Son." "Yeah,  I know Dad, but occasionally I might change the pants I'm wearing. Unfortunately, I have a habit of losing my wallet in that small yet scary fragment of space and time between pants." Dad  doesn't reply.  He's said it before.  He'll say it again.  I'll lose my wallet  again. We 're on our way to Ballarat. More impressive (or is that oppressive?) freeways aside, I must have sat through the subtle delights of Victoria's Western Highway between Melbourne and Ballarat hundreds of times.  The majority ofthese trips were taken during my childhood; Mum and Dad up-front of an orange Volvo Station Wagon, my three sisters bickering across the backseat over which music should be played, me in the back on the  floor or bench-seat dreaming of drums, football and Babka's big green tin of Milo (Mum only let us drink Ovaltine or Akta-Vite; "Milo is junk  food!"). After battling through the inner city, we saunter through Footscray towards Sunshine. 'I feel like I could do this drive with my eyes closed," I say to Dad just as a car in front of me slams on the anchors. I follow suit and come close to clipping its backend. "Looks like you already are." he responds. *  * * Irena closes her eyes and points her face towards the sun.  All she sees is red, but she listens. The insects appear to be growing louder. Or is that something else? She is shocked from her solitude with the realisation that the bug sounds have been replaced by the less restful drone of low flying planes. The planes are actually far away, an unthreatening distance, possibly ten kilometres, yet Irena is scared, for planes were not a common sight at Krasna. It is only when the bombs start to drop that she becomes thoroughly terrified. She makes for home, convinced her father will understand. Sardoola is only slightly more co-operative on the return, but Irena dares not leave her behind. So she struggles on as the planes only grow louder. She cannot help but cry. *  * * I know jack about Poland. Babka and Dziadek did not speak English very well  and I was neither interested nor   patient enough to sit through stories of home. I was much closer to Babka than to Dziadek, but she died when I was ten. Such questions don't occur to children. Dziadek died when I was nineteen. We hardly spoke in the years between. Why is it only now I notice the gap in my identity their passing has left me? My regret for not asking them more is so tangible, I have no choice but to make amends. *  * * I'm not sure why they call it Sunshine, as I've always thought it was one of the dullest parts of Melbourne. Dad, who lived here when he first came to the city, informs me it was named after The Sunshine Harvester Works. The Sunshine Harvester was one of Australia's most famous inventions; almost up there with the Victa mower. It was manufactured here and exported to the world. So great was the global demand for them that, early last century, the works periodically carried the title of "World's Largest Production Line." Then the Americans bought it and turned it into a suburb. Dad worked in Footscray and played footy in Maidstone, so Sunshine was easy and cheap. After the credit squeeze of the early 1960's, there was little if any work in Ballarat for young men, so the move to Melbourne was  more of dire necessity than any country-boy-escapes-to-the-big-smoke-to-make-it-big type of idealism. Soon, we are on the open road just outside Deer Park (Were there once deer grazing here?), and we pass the zebra-stripes ofthe sadly disused but once famous Melbourne Lion Safari Park. When I was small, I would always look out the window in fruitless hope of spotting a pride frolicking beside the highway. Today there's just signs advertising suburbs yet to be built. I reckon they should call one of them Safari.  I'd live there. * * * "Irena, come quickly!" It is Jozef, Irena's father. Her hope for comfort in her father's arms is lost; in all her life, she has never seen him so scared. "Get inside the house! Give me Sardoola!" Irena runs to the house without looking back. All she wants is to cry and hide from the world, be safe by her mother's  side. "Mama, what is happening?!" Karolina too is frozen with fear, and prays aloud for the strength she wants to give her daughter. "I don't know, baby; just go hide with your sisters under the bed. Now! Go! I will be there soon." Irena does not find solace until she is under the big bed, where she finds Helena and Fredrica comforting Daniella and baby Zofia. The four sisters huddle together crying and watching their mother's frantic feet. Karolina is packing for an  escape. * * * Did you know that in the 16th century, in a union of Duchies with neighbouring Lithuania, Poland was a leading power in Europe? No? Neither did I. The union stretched from the Baltic Sea in the west to the Black Sea in the east.  Unlike other barbaric international activity of the period, this union was achieved by diplomacy not war. Together, they controlled the gateway between Europe, Scandinavia, Asia and the Middle East. Poles refer to this period as the "Golden Age", striking cultural, political and social resemblances with Italy's renaissance period. It was also at this time that Poland first gained its reputation as a champion of democracy and liberalism in Europe, introducing an elected monarchy as early as  1572. Parliamentary procedures established in the Sejm, the people's house, required  a unanimous vote. This meant minorities were better recognised and represented than anywhere else in Europe or the East; that buzz-word of the late twentieth century, multiculturalism? These guys had it down pat centuries ago. Nearly every diaspora was represented - more salad bowl than melting pot. So reads The History of Poland, by Mieczyslaw Kasprzyk: "Poles in the wars and centre, Lithuanians, Latvians and Estonians in the north, Lutheran Germans is Prussia and the western frontier, Orthodox Ukrainians and Belorussians in the east, Moslem Tartars in the east (these are the oldest Moslem communities in the Christian world) alongside the Karaites (a mixture of Khazar and Kiptchatska-Polovetska peoples practising a unique mixture ofJudaism and Islam), and Jews scattered throughout." Not that I've ever heard of Karaites or the Khazar or the Kiptchatska-Polovetska peoples, but there you go. While all this worked in the alliance's favour, it also earned Poland and Lithuania disdain from some parts of the world, labelling the union as a "Paradise for Heretics".  It wasn't long before somebody picked a fight. * * * Cruising out of the suburban sprawl, the little boxes give way to tides of green circled by distant mountains. I imagine County Kielce looked something like this, if not for the neon service-centre-dotted six-lane highway that cuts these plains in half. Dad turns the music off and tunes to the ABC. We just passed Melton, built in the 1960' s as "Australia's first satellite city", which translates to me as "Australia's first unhinged suburb"; it only pre- empted the sprawl. We then continue past Bacchus Marsh, and in-dad's-expensive-car cautiously through Anthony's Cutting, a man-made gash in the  landscape. Before the freeway, single-lane Old Ballarat Road passed through all these towns.  The  drive took longer, but there was more time to take in the sights. Usually it was just a pub, a general store, some sheep, a hay bail, a barn.  But then something would break the monotony - just outside the tiny town of Wallace, two plastic dinosaurs in the middle of a forest. No wonder I loved the trips to Ballarat so much as a child. Maybe there were no lions, but there was always the hope of them. And then there were dinosaurs. And castles, too. Just  you wait and  see ... * * * The planes grow louder. Jozef and Karolina eventually join the girls under the bed of the farmhouse's only bedroom.  Here the Olszewski family stays until the whine of the bombers subsides. Although the planes were close, it appears Krasna has been spared from this blitzkreig. The subdued sound of Autumn returns, as if a bomb had never fallen, but Jozef insists the family stays under the bed while he checks outside. Outside, he finds his neighbour, Mr Kalitzski, looking towards a horizon obscured by smoke and fire. "It won't be long before those German pigs are here, Olszewski. We should take our families and leave. Immediately." Jozef had anticipated his old friend's concern, and Karolina has already packed what food and supplies she could, throwing some bread and sausage, a few utensils, cups and plates into a large milk-pail. But Jozef was not sure how long his family would have to be in hiding. After quickily gathering and calming the children, he asks Karolina to make sure the girls have warm clothes, their shoes and jackets. "Make your way to through the forest behind the house to the next clearing. Wait there for me. I will not be far behind you." "But, where are you going?" "The crowa's coming too." * * * Somewhere between hearing the eleventh and one hundredth replay of Cathy Freeman winning her Olympic Gold Medal, Dad and I talk about Poland. Holding the steering wheel with my right hand, I reach behind the passenger seat,  ("Mark," Dad says the way only a parent can, 'What are you doing!?"), I show him a book I've been reading by Polish writer Ryszard Kapuscinski. I am not sure who was more surprised; me on hearing Dad had  never read let alone heard of Kapuscinski, or Dad on hearing that I had. I promise to lend it to him one day,  proud of myself that I could introduce him to a piece of Polish literature. As long as I can remember, my Dad would always have a book at arms-length; if it wasn't about sport it was usually a history book - a book about Poland, or a book about war, or a book about war in Poland. Dad never lived in Poland. He'd read the books studiously,  like he was trying to catch up; much like I read them now. * * * I dream up this scenario where Ryszard Kapuscinski is commissioned to write a travel journal in Australia. He visits Melbourne, Ballarat and the dinosaurs near Wallace. But in this particular scene, he finds himself in an outback Aussie pub, exchanging vodka-fuelled ramblings with an indigenous Australian. "Mate, we've been here 40,000 years living peacefully, and the white man rocks up two hundred years ago, takes our land, takes our wives, takes our children, gives me his diseases, gives me his drugs and totally destroys my culture in the process." Kapuscinski is half-drunk, his English a little stunted, but a surly Pole will always go one better. "My friend, five years after those Englishman invaded your land, my land was taken from  my people too. This despite them being welcome to join us in peace centuries before. Back then, Poland would have anyone and everyone. But in the interim, all these men - Turks, Mongols, Cossacks; you name it - invade from every direction. Finally, white men from the north, south and east chop up our land and divide it like pie between them; Austria, this bit, Germany that bit and that other bit for Russia. Borders everywhere, all on or own soil! Poles are slaughtered, raped, assimilated. No Polish books or language, no Polish songs!  We even ended up fighting the world's wars against each other - all for these invaders! - then twenty per cent of our already decimated population is taken to die in Siberia or gassed or shot in the back and bulldozed by the SS, only to leave the few survivors oppressed by a corrupt and undemocratic communist regime. God, we really only got our identity back ten years ago.  So don't even get me started." The Indigenous Australian is a little surprised, perhaps humbled. Kapuscinski has impressed even himself and, satisfied he's had the last word, moves to turn in for the evening. But the Aussie has one up his sleave. "At least the Germans and Russians had the balls to say sorry. Not like our bloody government." A sucker for a heated political conversation, Kapuscinski defeatedly orders another Vodka. *  * * Kryall Castle lies at the base of the wooded Mount Warranheap on Ballarat's eastern outskirts. As a child, I imagined a great King lived behind the blue stone walls. He ruled Ballarat and protected my family. The fantasy ended when, after years of begging my parents, I discovered the blue-stone did not conceal a secret order of Knights, but a mediocre theme park. Yet the walls of Kryall have marked my arrival in Ballarat for as long as I can remember. The extended left sideward glance at its replica towers is an essential part of the journey. Even if just for a second, it takes you to another place. * *  * Irena and the girls are happy to see Sardoola trailing behind their father as he emerges   from the Alder trees. Now the whole family is here. Together, they move deeper into the forest, where they find nearly all the families of Krasna taking refuge. Materialising from a crowd of anxious faces, the Mayor displays a mixture of astonishment and admiration on realising his son's family has a cow in tow. Irena does not remember the last time she saw her father and Dziadek embrace. As the afternoon relents to dusk, the residents of Krasna pull together, pooling food, lighting fires and building shelters while consoling each other with mutual lies. Irena, Fredrica, and Daniella rest that night on moss, peering over a shared blanket at Jozef and Karolina cradling Zofia in the firelight. They fall asleep in a world transformed. On the other side of the forest he had hunted rabbits in as a boy; now, sitting lonely against the trunk of the tree that gave him his name, Wladyslaw Olszewski, Mayor of Krasna, curses through teeth clutched to a smoking pipe. "Another bloody war!  Did you not hear my prayers this morning?!" It is only eighteen years since Wladyslaw got his country back; eighteen short beautiful years in which to work a land blood-stained by the world; eighteen happy and rewarding years to raise a family and community, to celebrate a culture of diversity that, with and without God, had withstood three centuries of occupation and attempted obliteration, only to start again. Like it's starting here. Now.  Not more than five kilometres away, German tanks are rolling through Krasna. *  * * Possibly as some sort of boredom suspension tactic, my parents would often encourage us to give names to the sights we came across on our road trips. Just as you come  down the  last hill to enter Greater Ballarat, there is a rusting, unassuming rail bridge on the right hand side. If you blink, you'll miss it. We called it Babka's Bridge and it has as much if not more significance to me than that coathanger next to the Opera House. So too with Dziadek' s Bridge, on the other side of town. His is the grand white archway that opens Ballarat's Avenue of Honour. Another extended sideways glance. Once again, these naming games were simply a case of kids being kids. We didn't know Babka had caught military trains alone across Germany and Poland at the height of World War II.  We didn't know about all the soldiers that Babka and Dziadek helped during and after. the war. We just named them because they were there, and as far as us kids were concerned, Ballarat was Babka and Dziadek's town. We didn't go to Ballarat to go toSovereign Hill or Euxeka Stockade, we went there to see Babka, Dziadek, our Aunts, Uncles ,cousins and eat Polish food, which we rarely ate at home.  In a way, we were going to our own little Poland, just a few hours drive from home. But there was never any war there. Even on the Avenue of Honour, war was the last thing on our  minds. * * * Kasprzyk has an abridged, though no less arresting version of what happened to Poland in World War II: "Over half a million fighting men and women, and 6 million civilians (or 22% of the total population) died. About 50% of these were Polish Christians and 50% were Polish Jews. Approximately 5,384,000 or 89.9% of Polish war losses (Jews and Gentiles)  were the victims of prisons, death camps, raids, executions, annihilation of ghettos, epidemics, sanitation, excessive work and ill treatment. So many Poles were sent to concentration camps that virtually every family had someone close  to them who had been tortured or murdered there." None of my family died. They don't know anyone who was murdered or tortured in a concentration camp, even the Jewish family that lived in Krasna. I don't know how they did it. * * * At the end of the war, a German munitions train was destroyed on the bridge at Krasna.  One of my distant cousins found a hunk of train in the forest. It must have been a hell of a blast to throw debris that far. Needless to say, the bridge was destroyed. *  * * We arrive at my Uncle John's to a feast of salami and tomato sandwiches. Dad tries some kippers from a can.  I try some of Auntie Danka's pickled mushrooms.  They're ... not bad! We're running late for Auntie Irene's and eating in a fashion that suggests we haven't had  a meal in days. Dad hasn't caught up with his brother in a while and it occurs to me how many of these bonding sessions must have taken place involving sandwiches like this. I've been involved in quite a few of them myself. For some reason, Dad appears younger when he is around John. On a slow drive around Lake Wendouree, we talk about their life in the 50's when they first came to Ballarat, about doing it tough as ''New Australians", about fights and football, about fishing and rabbit shooting, about slingshots, about hiding from the police in the backblocks, about getting away with it. It's all that teenage stuff your Dad did that you wish you had as ammunition when you were a teenager. But it was also about getting through it all and coming out on top. The Olszewski's war didn't end in 1945. Soon we will be at Auntie Irene's. There I will meet Auntie Daniella (Danka) and Auntie Zofia.  There are already a thousand stories racing through my  head, now I will get to hear theirs. * * * In my childhood journeys, Auntie Irene’s would always be the last stop on the itinerary. Her house was like a magnet. Somehow, all the relatives we had visited during the day would regroup in her kitchen and dining room by late Sunday afternoon.  The men would  sit in the dining room and talk in Polish,  smoking cigarettes,  downing shots ofvodka,  and, I can only assume, comparing notes on the gentle art smoking eels, a life-long obsession of Irene's husband, Frank.  The women,  also  smoking, congregated around the kitchen table.mPerhaps for their brother's wives' sakes, they would predominantly speak in English. The conversation would normally revolve around which Olszewski is to be married, or which Olszewski is expecting. This was at a time when I knew everyone of my cousins. We would all play together at family gatherings, enough of us for a backyard cricket match that would last hours. But as the family grew and multiplied, as cousins had second cousins, and second cousins got married and had third cousins, it became increasingly hard to keep up.  Now, I have cousins I have never met.   Olszewskis are very good at chopping wood; at making chips fly. * * * I'm sitting at Irene's kitchen table, drinking beer and stealing full strength Marlboro's from John.  Irene floats around the kitchen preparing yet more sandwiches. The smoke is thick and my Dad complains, eventually giving in and having a cigarette himself. Irene takes a seat commenting on how thin I look.  Again. For the next four hours, I am taken back to Krasna. I feel the sun on my face. I see the  hilly plains and the church tower. I see a young girl leading a cow. I hear the insects and then the planes. I see the falling bombs and the frightened citizens. I hear my family's cries.  I escape with them to the forest. * * * I only tell this story because my family survived. How they did it would fill hundreds of pages; another story to be told. This story is about my journey, a journey to the self. It's also about a lesson learnt - never tear a bridge down unless you know how to rebuild  it. Just one more thing;  don't call me "Oz" anymore. My name is Olszewski.