Why We Run

There are some universally acknowledged truths about travel.  All backpacks inherited from parents will fall apart the first time you go to repack them, that creepy guy from your first hostel is always going to have the same schedule planned as you do and all in-flight meals will be about as palatable as laminate floorboards (yes, Qantas, you get to claim exception from this rule). One truth that is perhaps more meaningful, if not a little spiritual, is that all, all travelers -no matter what they claim- are running away from something. Really.

This isn't some self justifying, generic commentary provided by jealous relatives. It's fact. It can be as simple as running away from boredom and monotony or as fear driven as running from an ex lover or a horrendously painful breakup. We run from childhood, adulthood, and the urge to settle down. We run from graduations, family homes, real careers and choices that actually require us to risk failure for once. Whether we acknowledge it or not, there's always a reason, there's always a motivation, there's always something to fear in slowing down. Staying still.

But regardless of what we think, our true motivations do not invalidate our choice to travel. To run. Our minds know exactly what it is we're not ready to face. To travel is to build up a resistance, an immunity. Fleeing takes us out of the path of one challenge and throws us directly in the path of other, greater ones. By facing and defeating these challenges we're building up the strength and knowledge we need to go back and face that first demon we left behind. That whole "life experience" thing old folks talk about isn't as pointless as they make it sound, you know.

So my advice to all of you is to run. Run as fast and as far as you can. Run to discover as much as to escape and don't stop until you've reached some magical and enlightening place where everything makes sense again. I hear it's wonderful there.

  

Songs to run away with:

Architecture in Helsinki - Desert Island

Foster the People - Pumped Up Kicks

Metronomy - The Look

The Head and The Heart - Lost in My Mind

Gotye - Heart's a Mess

The Maccabees - Mary

It's beginning to look a lot like winter

I'm told by locals on a near daily basis that this has been an incredibly mild winter. Terms like "sunbathing weather" are thrown around with the casual nonchalance that only true hardweather boys possess. But what these crazy northerners are forgetting is that the rest of us (sane) folks are not used to this kind of climate. Whilst I was sadly deprived of the White Christmas I've dreamt of since childhood, I can no longer deny that winter is well and truly here. Snow has fallen, melted and fallen again, matches are regularly postponed for weather, the sun doesn't rise til it's almost time for it to set again and the walk down the hill to the bus stop becomes more and more treacherous every day. Black ice, as it turns out, is very likely to be the cause of my early demise. 

A wariness of spending too much money before I've received some decent sized paycheques means there will be no fancy skiing holidays for me. A trip to Edinburgh was the highlight of the new year so far but with southern England buried in snow and sitting at a comfortable negative seven degrees; it looks like I won't be doing much tourism for a while. So the question becomes: what is the humble traveller to do when leaving the house comes with oversized coats, frostbite and horizontal sleet flying in your face?

Winter can still be a grand old time of year for those of us who are sensibly unwilling to risk pneumonia. The humble thrills enjoyed back home can still bring comfort abroad. Restaurants, movies, bars and cafes are just as enjoyable. Museums, galleries and shops are still open and whilst good television seems to have gone on hiatus lately, a night in watching one of the many award ceremonies that kick off during February is just as fun here as back home. One of the difficulties modern travellers face is getting over the belief that you have to be doing something every day in order to justify your trip. Sometimes simply enjoying yourself is more than enough.

Edinburgh

With the sudden dependance we all have on guidebooks and internet reviews, it has become very difficult for a place to defy expectations. We still find museums/bars/shops that we've not heard of and meet a whole lot of different folks, but with guidebooks and reviewers going as far as describing building layouts, local attitudes and even smells, we tend to know what to expect of a place. But even if you insist on reading every book and every blog you can possibly find, there's often one or two things about a place that will startle you. Argentina, for example, has the best icecream I've ever tasted. Strasbourg has a whole bunch of weirdly good theme bars and Siem Reap, surprisingly, is full of amazing vintage clothing shops.

Edinburgh, as it turns out, is full of Australians. The shops, the cafes, the streets, all had me spinning around trying to spot the sources of the Australian accents I kept hearing. I'd gone half way round the world just to find home, again. Whether this is a good thing or a bad thing would of course be a matter of opinion, but it was certainly entertaining for a girl whose not encountered another Aussie in nearly three months. 

At present, Edinburgh sadly feels a lot like a giant construction zone, with some major works going on around the main station and the city centre. This does affect the atmosphere of the place when you first arrive, but move a few blocks away from the buzz of machinery and the city almost immediately regains its charms. Lunch at Viva Mexico (I have an inability to embrace local cuisines), a browse through Miss Katie Cupcake for custom jewellery and trinkets and coffee at a very Melbournian cafe; Black Medicine Coffee Co., made for a lovely, slightly un-Scottish afternoon. 

 

View from Edinburgh Castle



Anzacs and Tea

Access to a fully equipped kitchen is a rarity when travelling, but I am currently one of the lucky few who can claim exception to that. As such, bouts of loneliness for my homeland are rather easily cured with favourites from home. Anzac biscuits (kind of like a chewy Hob Nob) are one of Australia's greatest creations and celebrating them with new friends has allowed me plenty of opportunity to smugly show off my own humble cooking abilities. And really; nothing can beat the Anzac as a tea dipping biscuit. Three of these and a cup of Lady Gray tea create something magical out of what would otherwise be just another rainy British day.


Recipe after the jump.

A Very Merry Christmas

And so ends my first Christmas abroad. Or at least; the first Christmas abroad without family. In a modern world of instant email and video calls this is much less of a big deal than it once would have been, but the wonders of Skype are bittersweet at this time of year. But of course, when does the festive season ever pass us by without a little bit of drama?

Stories from fellow travellers about their experiences of foreign Christmases have always varied. Some, like my boyfriend, remember massive backpacker barbecues under a scorching, summer sun. Others remember joining distant, rarely thought of relatives and the awkward attempts at family bonding that followed. Those staying in hostels usually remember terrible food, masses of cheap alcohol and a giant tree, but stories from these folks usually detail hour long walks through cold streets looking for the one off-license that stayed open on Christmas (and I'll bet you anything the owner of that store has a much, much sadder story to tell). Some remember sponsor families from their student exchanges whilst others, like myself, are temporarily adopted by the families of friends.

My Christmas involved a full Christmas dinner, champagne and sparkling juice, baileys (how could it not) and a near heart attack after realising how much chocolate I'd eaten. Christmas eve was probably more fun as I got to watch my boyfriend's mother and sister spend most of the day in the kitchen producing not one, not two but ten different kind of sweet treats; from mince pies to hob nobs to a pavlova and chocolate log. An evening in the local pub resulted in a slightly hung over Skype call to my family on Christmas morning, but the time spent listening to Christmas hits and nineties pop was well worth it.

 

My family back home worried a bit more than I would have hoped and have rather over done it in terms of gifts this year, as the pile of twelve books now sitting on the bed can testify to (I am being persistently mocked about how I intend to transport all my presents back to Australia in a year or two). A funny  hat from my sister and online vouchers from my father were reminiscent of gifts from last year, but the difficulties of overseas postage and online orders were evident. The detailed declaration of content (or the "Surprise Ruiner" as I now like to call it) on the packages from back home and the book written in German that my grandmother accidentally ordered from the Book Depository are clear evidence of that. But as the saying goes: it's the thought that counts.

And so it does seem that a merry (although not snowy) Christmas has indeed been had, despite all odds. Next comes New Year, which I can only hope will be appropriately epic and, of course, completely soaked in alcohol.

Games NOT to play in an airport

• The Bomb Bogies Game: Just like playing Bogies (where you take it in turns to say the word and each person must say it louder than the person before them), but with the word bomb.
• Mister Security: Try to sneak up on security, but you must freeze every time they look in your direction. 
• The Unlabelled Baggage Scavenger Hunt: Leave your bags in carefully hidden places around the airport, then challenge your friends to find them.
• The Beligerant Passenger Game: You don't even need to be travelling anywhere for this one. Just march up to the check-in counter and start shouting at the innocent staff members who work there. Fastest person to be escorted out by security is the winner.
• Guess Who: Swap passports with friends. Try to go through security checks and see if anyone guesses that you're not who you say you are. Hilarity will ensue.
• The Racial Profiling Game: All players should gather up a group of people from different ethnic backgrounds, then line them up in order of Most to Least likely to be a terrorist.
• Guess What's in my Boogy Board Bag: Is it a board or is it 3kgs of marijuana? You've got a 50% chance of being right!

Now don't these sound like fun? Thanks in advance for making your next overseas trip far more entertaining for the spectators.

Foreign or travel themed horrors to get your blood pumping tonight

It's a little late for a "halloweeny" themed post and I'm probably the worst person in the world to be writing this list since I can't watch horror films without screaming, hiding, turning all the lights on repeatedly, crawling up walls and generally making other people laugh at me/ pity me... but I'll give it a shot anyway.

The Orphanage
Creepy, creepy children tormenting adults into madness in the beautiful Spanish countryside? What's not to love? Or freak out about and be terrified of your younger siblings and cousins for a while. Whatever. Still, it was an amazing movie. 

Hostel
Of course this one's on the list. I've stubbornly refused to even watch this film due to the fact that I stay in a lot of dodgy hostels and would like to continue doing so without heart palpitations... but I'm told it will make your skin crawl. So if that's your thing: enjoy.

Friday the 13th
It is totally a travel themed movie/series! Don't argue with me! Quick question, though. Why do these people insist on returning to the damn lake? Honestly!

Pan's Labyrinth
Okay so this is more in the historical/fantasy/tripping-you-out genre, but watch the scene with the child eating monster and tell me it's not freaky as heck. Another creepy Spanish film. What is up with the Spanish anyway? Why must you Spaniards make such creepy movies!

Eyes Without a Face
An old as dirt French film for those of you who are into the classics. But, just so you know, the footage of the skin graft is real. 

A Tale of Two Sisters
Recommended to me twice, I've persistently avoided watching it as I've seen more than enough clips from it to know that it goes well beyond my personal 'creep threshold'. If you've got a stronger horror tolerance level and want some Korean creepiness in your evening: go for it.

Five vaguely useful travel apps

Airbnb - Hooks up travellers (with no friends to stay with) and homeowners/renters (with no friends to hang out with). Basically, if someone has a spare room they can advertise it as accommodation for travellers via this website and app. Travellers can then book the room to stay in. It can save you a freaking fortune in hotel/hostel costs and you can make a new friend or two in the process.

Accio - Okay, so this is actually the name of the app provider, not the app, but searching this will bring up the most options. Basically, they make translator dictionaries for your iPhone (and probably your Android, too, but I can't vouch for that). Helpful if you're wanting to learn a few words and phrases before you leave and super helpful in getting yourself out of a pinch once you're actually travelling. Also, much, much lighter than a bilingual dictionary. Must think about those luggage allowances, hey?

Lonely Planet - Yes, there are apps now.

Streetmuseum: Londinium - I'm kind of stretching the definition of useful with this addition to the list, but it's absolutely the cutest, coolest app idea ever. Basically, it overlays ancient sites over the top of a map of modern London and then includes facts, pictures, little excavation game things and the like. It's awesome. Well, it is awesome if you're under the age of twelve... or if you're me. Shut up!

Hostelworld.com - I tend to just go through the website, but they have an app, too! How nifty! I almost always go through Hostelworld to make my bookings, because they have not failed me yet. If they say a hostel is good, it's good. Just take it as fact, okay?

A World of Cliches

Well, just about two weeks have passed in Britain and so far my days have been an unending stream of British cliches. Villages are filled with tiny roads and identical houses, all the homes have decorative fireplaces, everyone is obsessed with football and train stations are tremendously huge and overly ornate. 

Oh look, a castle!

Days and nights have been both rainy and chilly and I'm told it will snow soon! And as promised on television: the Brits speak in a variety of dialects that range from classy to posh to adorably quaint to completely impossible to understand. The British coast is long and pretty but seems to be without the sand and sun I typically associate with the seaside. Castles are big and majestic and old and... full of old stuff. Halloween (Not just an American thing! Who knew?) promised small children in teeny tiny monster costumes but instead delivered dodgy teenagers with jackets over their faces trying to bung some free candy. Bonfire Night involved a dangerously large fire and a disracting display of fireworks to make sure everyone turned their backs on the blaze to give it a chance to get out of control.

British pubs contain cheap beer (or cider if you're me and therefore weak) and jolly locals getting scarily hammered. Tea rooms are staffed by middle aged women (probably the jolly locals' wives) who bake cakes and slices by the dozen and serve tea in pretty china pots. Oh, and Sunday dinners are epic. 

All in all, it's been very gratifying to know that my vaguely insulting expectations for this country are coming true. It's always nice to be proven right, over and over again. Although it's not helping the dear boyfriend's attempts to make me stop calling the UK a quaint, itty bitty island. But hey, he can't win 'em all.

Getting sick on holidays

As someone whose health has been consistently and fondly described as tragic for the past who-knows-how-long, vacations are usually just an excuse for me to go and test out the health care system of various countries. Singapore: yay, Cambodia: nay, Britain: not sure, but I'll bet you $100 (stupid computer not having a pound symbol) that I'll be able to tell you within a month or two. 


It was at a fairly young age that I perfected the quavering smile and self effacing chuckle all sickly youths use to earn the title of 'Brave Little Tyke', but in reality I'm still a total sook when it comes to illness. At the merest hint of a sniffle I will immediately move to take refuge in the relative safety of my mother's home and couch for a few days, from where I moan and groan whilst being provided with endless cups of tea and vegemite on toast (nature's cure-all). Sadly, however, this is not an option that is available to me when travelling. My first solo trip overseas resulted in a mostly untreated bout of whooping cough, which very nearly sent my dear mama half way round the world just to drive me to the doctor. 


In the years that followed this; I've become better and better prepared for the many ailments which seem to always find me, wherever I happen to be. Things like vaccinations and insurance (neither of which have ever really concerned me in Australia) suddenly take high priority when you're travelling. But there are other things I've figured out over the years. Learning how to say things like "emergency" "sick" and "doctor" in whatever the local language happens to be, taking note of where hospitals are so that you can direct "lost" taxi drivers and making friends with hostel owners so they're more likely to think to check on you if you're looking sickly are three good examples. Don't take your "sickness planning" too far, though. You do need to be careful, but make sure you don't get too carried away and miss out on half your trip out of false concern for your own health. 


For example: unless there's an actual health warning out, you can probably forego the face masks and -whilst it's always a good idea to be careful of your water supply and keep clean hands- you can pretty much take it for granted that at some point you're going to eat something that won't agree with you. An upset stomach won't kill you and avoiding local food just means missing out on some of the best made food in any country. 


The only other tip I can really give is to have a contingency budget. Planning a $3000 trip to fit within your $3000 of savings is going to leave you in deep, deep trouble should something go wrong. Your insurance won't kick in the very instant you get sick and in some cases, you won't be able to get any treatment at all until you have the insurance funds to pay for it. Make sure you've got at least $500 in extra savings that you can call on, whether you just need to visit a GP for antibiotics, or whether you need to pay for immediate blood tests  or xrays. It might mean you wait longer to take your dream trip, but it will be far less painful in the long run.