Tag: shopping

Fun souvenirs

We’ve bought some cracking souvenirs so far on this trip.

A pair of gloves for my cold, cold hands.
A toothbrush for Don when he lost his at Heathrow airport.
Long sleeved fleece t-shirts for each of us, mine labelled the wrong size that I can only exchange by schlepping all the way back to Uniqlo in Oxford Street.
Two cheap umbrellas for the Cologne drizzle.
A pair of fleece lined tights when I realised my thermals weren’t up to the challenge.
A pair of thermals for Don when he realised he wasn’t up to the challenge.
Reading glasses for Don (to replace his broken pair).

I cannot wait to get home to Brisbane and show everybody what we’ve bought!

Spare a thought

I was thinking to ask you all to spare a thought for Jen.

Every day she has had to endure Gab and me sweeping triumphantly from our rooms to declare ‘I made this!’

This is followed by oohs and aahs, some touching and pirouetting and then an intense discussion on the insertion of pockets, where the fabric was sourced, any pattern adjustments we’ve made and how we might make the garment longer/shorter/lighter next time.

But then last night Jen swept triumphantly from her own room, declaring ‘I bought this!’

She certainly had. She was head to toe in her purchases – headband, stunning dangling earrings, even bigger pendant, fun colourful holiday jumpsuit. And a gleam in her eye – game on.

Please spare a thought for Gab and me.

Beautiful

Bali

‘I really didn’t come to Bali to shop,’ said Jen as we wandered aimlessly around the nearby shopping precinct, ‘I don’t need a new wardrobe.’

‘Same,’ I replied, ‘or souvenirs or anything.’

‘I know, right,’ Gab agreed, ‘we’re not here for shopping.’

‘This shop looks nice, do you want to just have a browse around?’

‘Ok, just for a little OH MY GOD I LOVE EVERY SINGLE THING IN THIS SHOP!’

‘Look at this cushion. No look at this cushion. Look at them together!’ Two cushions!’

‘And this dress! Look at this dress! You could have a cushion AND MATCHING DRESS!’

‘How beautiful are these bowls?’

‘So beautiful. I love this one.’

‘I love THIS one. So beautiful.’

‘Over here, have you seen the sarongs?’

‘Not yet, but have you seen the peacocks?’

‘PEACOCKS?! Oh my God they’re so beautiful.’

‘Oh, look, these dresses are gorgeous. Look at this one! No, look at this one! Oh, look at this one! I LOVE THEM ALL.’

‘Have we seen these shirts already?’

‘Maybe? Is this still the same shop?’

‘Look at this. No seriously look at this. LOOK AT THIS!’

‘Is this a bird? This is a bird. I would definitely buy this.’

‘This shop is never ending. Where’s Jen?’

‘I don’t know. Where are we? Where did we come in? I LOVE THIS FABRIC!’

‘It’s beautiful. Touch it!

‘Beautiful.’

‘It comes in a bag! The bag is beautiful!’

‘Where’s the front door? I can no longer see the outside. Ooh, these shorts are cute.’

‘So cute. These giraffes are cute.’

‘So cute.’

‘There’s Jen.’

‘Where’s Gab?’

‘She was just here. Oh my God, that top would look amazing on you.’

‘It comes in a dress too.’

‘Beautiful.’

‘Oh, I haven’t seen these pants before. Hey, are we in the same shop?’

‘There’s Gab.’

‘We’re definitely lost. Wait, look at this gorgeous fabric, look at the beautiful box it comes in. LOOK AT IT!’

‘Beautiful.’

‘There’s the exit.’

‘Ok you wait outside, I’ll go back and find Jen.’

‘Jen, there you are OH MY GOD LOOK AT THESE SARONGS.’

‘Beautiful. Here’s that beautiful shirt again.’

‘Ooh, and the dress.’

‘These shorts, they’re so soft! LOOK! LOOK! So blue!’

‘So beautiful.’

‘Where’s Gab?’

‘Oh I forgot, she’s outside.’

‘Here’s the exit, here’s Gab.’

‘We should come back here tomorrow, I could use a new wardrobe.’

‘We definitely should.’

‘Ok.’

I’ve been to Bali too

I cannot believe it, but I am going to Bali.

I always said I had no interest in going to Bali. I was no longer a carefree backpacker, I have mostly given up partying like it’s 1999 and I have curbed my enthusiasm for riding scooters and buying batik. Yet here I am at the airport, waiting for a flight to Bali.

There are three of us going on this holiday. Jen, Gab, me.

You may remember Disco Jen from such posts as The Entourage. She is mad strong and helped me hoist kettlebells back when we used to do things like hoist kettlebells.

You may remember Gab from such posts as Gab’s issues. She is mad skilled at attracting travel drama, and is almost certainly the cause of Madonna and my cancelled flights to New Zealand.

I offered Gab and Jen at least twelve beaches and islands that we might visit as an alternative, but they were pretty keen on Bali. Jen reminded me that we are adults and we don’t have to stay in hostels and we don’t have to go to party central. We can find a beautiful beach, visit the gorgeous mountains, eat the fabulous food and wind our way through the more peaceful sights of Bali. We can relax, swim, read, eat, shop, visit day spas and just hang out in the sun with one another.

It was a pretty convincing argument.

So I have dusted off my shells and beads, packed my shorts and frocks and am on my way to Bali, with almost zero preparation.

Actually I lie, we’ve done a little bit of prep. Gab and I have filled all of our spare time sewing outfits for around the pool. Jen has sent multiple TikTok Bali tips to the group chat.

And Gab broke her ankle. Because, you know, Gab’s issues.

Hang the consequences

Waiheke Island

I’m afraid there was just no time – no time – to stop to write a blog last week. Soz. It’s just that a trip away with your girlfriends is an entirely different experience to a trip away with anybody else.

What sets these trips apart from others? There is magic in eight confident, intelligent, funny women travelling together. Grand ideas are hatched, empowering stories shared and sound advice given. We listen to and respect everybody’s opinions, at the same time lending lipsticks and complimenting earrings. We build each other up without even having to think about it.

Our New Zealand trip was eating and drinking and hang the consequences. Wine tastings across the length of the island, cocktails, ordering one of everything from the food menus – the crack cheese, the goat, mulled wine, smoked anything. And as we all know, alcohol and good food draw out the big ideas – establishment of the Brisbane girls’ choir and dance troupe, with the Central coast satellite branch, the Sydney affiliate and the Townsville chapter. A new business solutions company with a job for each of us. The advantages of purchasing a wine fridge. Like I said, the big ideas.

Something else? Girlfriends on tour are much better resourced. Multiple puffy jackets, boots a’plenty, earrings, curling wands, Bluetooth speakers, shopping bags, hairdryers, selfie sticks, board games, keep cups, pickles, it was all covered.

But above all there was the music.

Our entire four days played out with its own soundtrack. Every genre, every era represented. The obscure to the popular. Hilltop Hoods, Olivia Newton-John, Bowie, Haim (pronounced HI-im). Club Can’t Handle Me three times. The Big Chill soundtrack whilst making breakfast, a fully choreographed From LA to New York, a straight up Australian rock session. The biggies – Don’t Pay the Ferryman, Africa, Xanadu – all with a little less choreography but the same dance enthusiasm. A night of the best female artists – think Pat Benatar, Lizzo, Aretha, Janelle Monay – found three of us simply unable to go to bed. You cannot leave the room when Linda Ronstadt is singing.

The music was not limited to the living room of the Airbnb. There was a rousing rendition of Robbie Williams Angels with the soloist at our first restaurant (musicians love it when you do that), a top of our lungs in-house music Human League after the dismal Bledisloe cup defeat and a string of Doobie Brothers hits in the van as we tripped around the island.

At some point there may even have been sock puppets.

Drinking, eating, dancing and singing for four days takes an incredible amount of stamina, perseverance and commitment, not to mention poor judgement. Which leads me to some of the other things that the eight seemingly intelligent women said or did this week.

Watching the Bledisloe and asking if that player in the black with the silver fern on his shirt is Australian.

Group selfies that featured a prominent selfie stick and outstretched arm.

Sleeping three hours past your alarm for your international flight.

Talking about the lions that inhabit Russia.

Wearing two contact lenses in one eye all day.

Constantly being left behind in the shop, the garden, the bathroom, the beach…

Very loosely packed bottles of red wine. Very loosely packed.

All in all, a wonderful, hilarious, uplifting celebration for a fabulous friend.

Happy birthday Gab.

You are definitely smarter than a box of rocks.

#gabsissues

In the way of flights, airports and things going wrong, Don and I have been incredibly lucky in our travels. Well, there was that one time our plane skidded off the runway coming back from Rome, but nothing to worry about, and we got a free flight! No, we’ve been relatively stress free.
Not so my friend Gab.

Gab has had to turn around midway to the airport to go home to fetch her passport on at least three separate occasions.

Gab arrived a day late to my birthday trip to Malaysia, then spent the next three days with no clothes while her suitcase travelled via Tokyo.

Just yesterday Gab and her sister Jen had a passport that wouldn’t work, a bag tag that wouldn’t scan and an Uber driver that wouldn’t…well let’s just say wouldn’t be polite.

Gab has had more flight delays, re-routes, lost luggage, missing passports and shoe blowouts than anyone I know.

And now I am about to embark on a five day girls’ trip to New Zealand to celebrate Gab’s birthday. Gab is already in New Zealand, Madonna and I fly today, so #gabsissues shouldn’t even touch us. #gabsissues are over 2,000km away from us. We even joked that we booked separately to avoid #gabsissues.

As I write this we should be boarding our flight. However, I’m on the couch. Madonna is still in bed. Since last night we’ve had:

Our flight to New Zealand cancelled.

Madonna booked on a late night flight via Sydney, me with nothing.

Madonna rebooked on an early flight via Sydney, me with nothing.

Madonna on the flight via Sydney, me on a flight via Melbourne.

Madonna on the flight via Sydney, me on a direct flight with China Airlines.

A woman on the Qantas helpline who can find no trace of the China Airlines flight that I’m booked on.

Finally, after much key tapping by the woman on the Qantas helpline, we are both on the China Airlines flight to Auckland.

We’re not sitting together. And we’re not entirely sure there isn’t a layover in Shanghai. But what we are sure of is that eventually we’ll get to Gab, the epicentre of #gabsissues.

Let the fun begin.

Into the jungle

On this day five years ago I flew to Melbourne. My niece was turning 11 and we were about to embark on an adventure together, just the two of us, to Singapore.

I’d said to Peppa years ago that when she turned 11 I’d like to take her on an overseas holiday somewhere, just the two of us. Perhaps I should have cleared it with my sister first, but I naively thought Peppa would have forgotten I ever said anything. Ha!

When she turned 10 we started planning. I set some rules for what would be the first in a series of trips, one with each of my three nieces.

1. No more than one flight from Australia. This didn’t stop the suggestion from Peppa that we should go to Paris, or the follow up from Goldie three years later that perhaps we could give Brazil a whirl.

2. The destination had to be somewhere I’d been before. I needed some sort of familiarity given that I was taking my sister’s children out of the country.

3. It should be a country where people spoke a different language. We were not going to Hawaii to lie on the beach.

Peppa and my trip to Singapore was filled with miles of walking, cable cars, hawker stalls, Universal studios, dumplings and one terrifying ride on a chairlift. We finished every day at the chocolate shop near our hotel, drinking hot chocolate and sharing some amazing chocolate creation.

Peppa’s trip was where I learnt the benefits for me. When I came up with this idea, I thought about how interesting it would be for the girls to travel, how much they could learn about another culture, the fun in trying new foods and using different money. But during the six days with my funny, laid back niece (oh, dear God, did I mention funny?), the real value of the trip became apparent. Spending so much time together, getting to really know each other, forming that special Aunty-niece bond; that was priceless.

Goldie and my trip to Tokyo was a whirlwind of temples, cherry blossoms, sushi, bike rides and 12 non-stop hours at Disneyland. My insightful, independent, stylish niece led the way through the crowded streets, mastering the money, the trains and the souvenir shops far better than me. Another beautiful Aunty-niece bond was cemented over croissants every morning and internet quizzes every night (FYI I know exactly what Harry Potter character, what small dog, and what colour fairy I am).

Today, five years later, I’m back in Melbourne for the third and final trip. Somehow the rules have stretched a little for my youngest niece Lulu. We need to take three flights to get to final destination, and it’s somewhere I’ve never been before. We’re off to Borneo: into the jungle for a river safari. Orangutans, monkeys and elephants are on our agenda. Lulu is curious and adventurous, so this ought to be one wild ride.

I’m a little sad that this will be the last trip. But then, this has all been my idea. There’s nothing to stop me coming up with another idea.

I was thinking I could do a go around as they each turn 18. Or perhaps they could take me.

To market, to market

Peru

We do love a good market. Fruit and veg, craft, exotic food, artisan, we’re not fussy, we’ll visit any or all. The noise and vibrancy of locals and tourists shopping, eating, touting and wandering is often the heart of a city, and is usually our first port of call when we reach a new destination.

The markets in Peru have been amazing. The stalls are so colourful, the sellers so friendly. There’s been music and food and multitudes of alleyways to explore.

Markets used to be my downfall. Over the years I’ve been easily swayed by items such as fabrics, earrings, bags, shoes, tablecloths, wall hangings, paintings, carvings, bowls, blouses, socks, belly dancing outfits, necklaces, rings (finger and toe), tea, stuffed animals, beads, scarves, pants, carpets, hats, hair ties and key rings, just to name a few.

But not anymore, no sir. I have developed a resourceful and effective ‘analyse and discuss’ technique when colourful, glittery objects catch my eye, and I am going to share six real-life examples I have put into practice in Peru so that you too can consider the same strategy whenever you are tempted.

You’re welcome.

1. Alpaca wool blankets (also alpaca wool shawl, socks, poncho, scarf) – OMG this is so soft, Don feel this, how good would this blanket be on the couch at night while we’re watching tv? Might be a bit hot, yes, true, we do live in Queensland, there’s no need for an alpaca wool anything, but for that one week of winter it would be so good. Yes? Sì?

2. Knotted cotton wrist band with a simple but colourful Inca pattern – oh, look, only one sol, I should buy one and have as a laid back decoration knotted around my wrist, where it’ll get wet and dirty and ragged and eventually lose all of its colour, but still, what better way to represent being carefree and on holidays than a knotted cotton wrist band?

3. Oven mitts with ‘Welcome to Machu Picchu’ embroidered on them – OMG these would be great in our kitchen, not only useful but also a reminder of our time in Peru. I can just see myself removing tamales from the oven, plus the orange matches our wall. Ok, so they’re a bit thin, and yeah, perhaps a little tacky. But they’d be so useful. And nothing says Peru like oven mitts!

4. Peruvian women’s hat – oh wow, I look great in this hat, don’t I look great in this hat? I’d definitely wear this hat, might be a bit hot in summer, but would be perfect for winter. I know I already have three winter hats and several beanies, but come on, this one is from Peru! Made from alpaca! And I look great in this hat!

5. Peruvian earrings just like the ones I owned when I was twenty – oh look, Peruvian earrings just like the ones I owned when I was twenty. Why on earth did I ever get rid of them? I should definitely buy some more, although if I really wanted a new pair I could have bought some at any folk festival over the past twenty odd years. Still, I used to love those earrings.

6. Red ankle boots (with Peruvian fabric inserts) – ooh, boots. I love boots! Red boots! I don’t have any red ankle boots with Peruvian fabric inserts. And they’re cheap for boots. And they’re leather, except for the Peruvian fabric inserts. I could wear these at least twice a year, maybe three times. So cost per wear isn’t so good, but look at them! They’re awesome!

See? Just give me a moment and I can completely talk myself out of all manner of purchases.

Employ this simple technique and you too can enjoy a 35% success rate just like me.

Highlights

I wanted to finish this blog series on a high, and so, anticipating the questions people might ask, I’ve been contemplating the highlights. Seeing friends is always going to top these lists – spending time with people we so rarely get to see – so I’ve eliminated them from the equation. But to my English, Scottish and expat Aussie friends, know that you were our highlight!

Top eats

1. Pasta at Rossopomodoro on our first night in Venice. Unbelievably creamy, ridiculously tasty whipped buffalo ricotta concoction on fresh made pasta. At the time I said it was the best meal I’d ever eaten. I stand by that.

2. Cioppino at Sotto Mare, North Beach California, sitting up at the counter, with wine, feeling so alive only four days into our holiday.

Places to which I’ll definitely return (in no particular order)

1. Reykjavik

2. Berlin

3. Washington

4.Everywhere else.

Top moments

1. Discovering the former Australian Embassy building in Washington DC, where my grandmother first worked.

2. Recently arrived in Rome, dusk, sitting at a cafe in Piazza della Rotonda, looking out at the Pantheon, glass of white wine, nowhere to be in any hurry.

3. Standing in the Neumarkt in Dresden surrounded by the Christmas markets.

4. Driving through the deep snow north west of Reykjavik, unable to see anything at all – a complete white out.

5. The Art Institute of Chicago.

Most amazing sights

1. Gullfoss waterfall, Iceland.

2. Autumn leaves, Scotland.

3. Chicago buildings.

Funniest shrieking with laughter moments (sorry, for these you had to be there so are to remind me, but I’m happy to tell the stories if asked).

1. Don buying a jacket in Macy’s New York.

2. Ruth hanging her last Christmas decoration on the thermostat.

I could add to all of these lists, because of course the whole trip has been the most amazing, eye-opening, brilliant and fun experience for both of us. And I have loved sharing all of this with you via the blog. Thanks so much for reading, and for all of your lovely comments.

Now, to start planning the next adventure…..

Stuff happens

Singapore

Last I left you dear readers we were enjoying the exploits of Bangkok before heading on to our last destination, Singapore. But something happened on the way to Singapore.

I got sick.

I must say, we had a pretty good run – perfect weather everywhere we went, fabulous hotels, scarcely a runny nose between us. We lost a couple of things – including an expensive thing and a sentimental thing – but things can be replaced. Small panic when we thought we were on the wrong train in Germany, but we just needed to change platforms. That’s it, really.

So long story short I pretty much missed Singapore, other than the inside of the hotel room, Singapore Raffles Hospital and the Changi Airport medical clinic.

Sometimes stuff happens, and you just have no control over it.

My beautiful husband sorted doctors, fed me fluids and held my hand, keeping me sane and safe.

He also bought me an awesome yet somewhat hideous toothpick holder/bottle opener souvenir and a mini Merlion, both of which I shall treasure. Then when I was starting to feel better, he walked me ever so slowly down to the Merlion and back again, just so that I could be outside in a different city on our last day away. He truly is my rock.

And as I was worrying over how I could possibly be comfortable flying that last eight hours home, Qantas sent a message upgrading us to business class. Sometimes stuff happens!

So now we are home, safe, and almost well.

Stay tuned, there is a little more to come reflecting on this epic 99 days.

Merry Christmas!