the end was just the beginning
I hate jetlag. Why do I still have jet-lag? Is it because I'm getting old? It could have been avoided by taking a sleeping tablet on the last night in Singapore and getting a decent six hours sleep instead of an inadequate two. But I stupidly googled "Unisom + alcohol" and discovered it's a bad mix (surprise). Which is a shame, because I've always found it to be a brilliant mix. The night of... Continue Reading →
OK, Luna Park wasn't so bad, despite me progressing to the low-mood phase of my jetlag. I convinced Sprog 1 to go on some less scary rides with me (though she moaned and bitched about how lame they were) to get my adrenaline racing. I was slightly worried that telling Sprog 2 to play on the kiddie rides while... Continue Reading →
Now this is more like it. Bugger swanning around in France and Spain. Grocery shopping in Northbridge, that's where it's at. Recycled toilet paper, a barbecued chook, a nod and smile to someone who seems to know me, but who I can't place for love or money. Ah, the real world. Bliss. Actually, I was a... Continue Reading →
OK, drinking two flutes of champagne, two glasses of rose and a glass (or maybe two) of white wine the night before a 4am hotel wake-up call for a 7am flight from Singapore to Sydney probably wasn't the smartest move I've ever made. But it was the last night of our holiday, we were celebrating... Continue Reading →
Yes, yes, yes! I've finally achieved carb-gasm. Thank you Singapore! Before this holiday I hadn't consumed carbs in any great quantity since Sprog 2's birth, an event that brought on a multiple disaccharide deficiency (ie an inability to process the sugars in carbs). After swearing off them pretty much exclusively for three years, I'd been... Continue Reading →
Back in Singapore after our Spanish adventure, a question looms large: Would I take the Sprogs on another long-haul flight? The spontaneous answer: Not for a bloody long time. Ok, they endured the flights far better than me (those overnighters are so brutal, they might put me off international travel permanently. I'm hoping its like... Continue Reading →
I am at my most attractive when I'm travelling. My face assumes a lovely, glossy sheen in foreign climes. It erupts with lots of impressive second, third and fourth heads. The extra heads usually migrate to my chest and, if I'm feeling extra glamorous, my legs. I showcase these extra heads in short skirts purchased... Continue Reading →
Remember cracker night when you were a kid? A bonfire on the neighbourhood spare block, awe as dads light Catherine wheels, squeals as teenagers let off double bungers ... Then the government spoilt everyone's fun and banned backyard fireworks because they were "dangerous" and could blow people's hands off and stuff. Barcelona begs to differ.... Continue Reading →
Ah Barcelona, I knew I'd love you, even if you didn't have "wiffy". Fortunately "wiffy" is up there with kettles and bathrooms on the accommodation essentials list these days. Our host Biggi (short for something unpronounceable, apparently) proffered our precious "wiffy" code with our keys. God bless you Biggi. Immediately after checking the "wiffy" connection... Continue Reading →
It's our last day in France and possibly our last day of Internet connectivity for a while. I'd been hoping for what the Spanish entertainingly pronounce "wiffy" in our Barcelona accommodation, but there's only Ethernet, which Husband tells me is no use at all. So I'm sitting in the dim, early morning light trying to... Continue Reading →
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