tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45135317333035725432024-02-07T02:52:48.640+00:00Ordinary DaysThis blog is about getting up again after burnout, about rebuilding your life in a way that works for you. As anyone who's ever suffered from depression or anxiety will know, the wolf is always at the door, so this is an ongoing project, sharing what has worked for me thus far. There's a bit of travel, a bit of music, fashion, fitness, baking, all the good 'lifestyle' elements, but the focus is on enjoying the ride, while not being a passenger in your own life. Do come join the party!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17862323392193749470noreply@blogger.comBlogger95125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513531733303572543.post-62980306067109856512013-01-29T06:27:00.000+00:002013-01-29T06:27:11.403+00:00Round the world: Phnom Penh, Cambodia<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>Where we were</b></div>
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Compared to the identikit shiny, newness of the Asian cities we've visited so far, Phnom Penh was a bit of a shock. It seemed we were finally and definitely in 'foreignia'; no recognisable shops, no malls, alien aesthetics. Arriving at night after a surprisingly pleasant and comfortable coach journey from Siem Reap, the bus station was crowded with aggressive tuktuk drivers and unwelcoming stares. But, while it never quite lost its aggressive edge, over the week we started to see why so many people have fallen in love with this beautifully messy city and why you should always step outside the tourist traps.</div>
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<b>Where we stayed</b></div>
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La Rose Boutique, a very new establishment towards the nicer end of town. Opened in November 2012, you're advised to get in quick while their prices are low, because this is definitely a place on the up and up. If you can't stay, you should at least go to the restaurant for some of the best food we've had all trip. The lovely hotel manager arranged a sampler of Cambodia's best dishes for our first night and oh my it was good. Seriously, seriously good.</div>
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On the receiving end of another free upgrade (thanks, universe), we found ourselves in a spa room - double bed, huge bath and separate waterfall shower and our very own massage table. The hotel has a gorgeously decorated spa on the first floor open to guests and non-guests alike.</div>
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Best of all though were the staff, an army of sweet, smiling and funny girls, some of whom were employed through a local charity helping former street children, all of whom were nothing but attentive and helpful. We didn't hardly have to ask for anything before it was done. After all my 'DIY is best' sentiment in former travel experiences, these guys made me realise how much nicer it is to ask for assistance when you need it.</div>
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<b>What I read</b></div>
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'Wolf Hall' - Hilary Mantell. Finally got around to this award winning novel and I can safely assert that I see what all the fuss is about. The third person, present tense narrative from inside Cromwell's head is so clever. To take a tale for which we all know the end and make it seem like anything could happen is the sort of skill that makes me realise I will probably never write a novel, because there'd be no point if it couldn't be as good as this.</div>
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<b>What I listened to</b></div>
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Nothing of note. A rare occurrence!</div>
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<b>What we nommed</b></div>
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The aforementioned delicious 'Cambodian food for beginners' at La Rose's restaurant. Fish amok, crispy noodle salads and rice porridge were the highlights.</div>
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NYE drinks at the Foreign Correspondents Club, a bastion of colonial elegance along the Mekong River.</div>
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An excellent pizza with even more excellent company at Nike's Pizza, courtesy of the gorgeous <a href="http://ourdearladyexpatriate.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Our Dear Lady Expatriate's</a> Ashley and her lovely man, John. The pizza was yummy, but more importantly it gave us a chance to see the city through the eyes of people who live and work there. There was a whole side of town we never would've found without their input. Cheers guys!</div>
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Cocktails at the historically elegant Raffles Hotel Le Royal's Elephant Bar. Relaxed, welcoming and wildly expensive, it was worth the near-death-experience of crossing the road to get to it.</div>
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A fresh and zesty noodle salad at the Boddhi Tree, another charity run affair which helps street kids to learn to chef and waiter/ress.</div>
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Homemade ice cream at the Blue Pumpkin on the riverfront.</div>
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A green tea and banana smoothie concoction at Cafe Yejj.</div>
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<b>What we did</b></div>
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Walked the main length of the Mekong riverfront. It's a bit of a tourist heavy area supposedly, but didn't feel it as we dodged exercise classes, barefoot football matches (ouch) and food carts. It was peaceful at sunset, at least compared to the other side of the street, and the photography exhibitions were really interesting.</div>
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Got buddha sculpture overload at the National Museum. Just as well they have a lush courtyard to recover you senses in then.</div>
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Spent lots of time pointing and gesturing at tuktuk drivers most of whom are out of towners and thus have no better idea where you're going than you do. In fact perhaps less, because you can read a map. Thankfully the western male reluctance to ask for directions doesn't exist and we got everywhere we wanted to eventually and in good humour.</div>
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Laughed at ourselves as, wanting to buy some kit for our upcoming Nepal trip, we asked to go to the only mall in the Lonely Planet, expecting something similar to KL and instead found a shiny building exterior full of market stalls, not glossy boutiques.</div>
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Were disappointed by the Russian Market. There was literally nothing there that we would ever want to buy. And it all looked like it needed a good clean.</div>
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Thankfully found the NGO run shops, like Friends, to be reasonably priced and full of innovative, desirable creations. Bought lots of gifts.</div>
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Wandered the lawn outside the Palace soaking up the boisterous evening atmosphere.</div>
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Got sickened and depressed at the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum, a school where the Khmer Rouge tortured and killed an enormous number of people. They took photographs of every victim, now chillingly displayed on large boards in each room. I can't really articulate any more than that. My mind goes to blanks and whys and what the hell is wrong with people's. I had to go eat ice cream in the sunshine.</div>
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Cheered ourselves up with a half day couples spa treatment back at the hotel. Facial, lengthy full body massage, mani-pedi, foot bath... I'm going to be so sad when I get back to a land in which these things are prohibitively expensive.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17862323392193749470noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513531733303572543.post-81029512679177880202013-01-27T14:28:00.001+00:002013-01-27T14:28:45.730+00:00Words are pegs: John Stuart Mill on marriage and equality<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="background-color: beige; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"What marriage may be in the case of two persons of cultivated faculties, identical in opinions and purposes, between whom there exists that best kind of equality, similarity of powers and capacities with reciprocal superiority in them--so that each can enjoy the luxury of looking up to the other, and can have alternately the pleasure of leading and of being led in the path of development--I will not attempt to describe. To those who can conceive it, there is no need; to those who cannot, it would appear the dream of an enthusiast.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: beige; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But I maintain, with the profoundest conviction, that this, and this only, is the ideal marriage; and that all opinions, customs, and institutions which favour any other notion of it, or turn the conceptions and aspirations connected with it into any other direction, by whatever pretences they may be coloured, are relics of primitive barbarism. The moral regeneration of mankind will only really commence, when the most fundamental of the social relations is placed under the rule of equal justice, and when human beings learn to cultivate their strongest sympathy with an equal in rights and in cultivation."</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17862323392193749470noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513531733303572543.post-8806213163846922732013-01-23T13:50:00.001+00:002013-01-23T13:50:46.198+00:00Music Glue: Annapurna Earworms - Tracks to trek to<p dir="ltr"><a href="http://open.spotify.com/user/katgirl_25/playlist/7uSY099ueTcsgAnLSO3Wdt">Annapurna Earworms</a></p>
<p dir="ltr">We just completed a ten day trek in the Nepal Himalayas (more on that later) with nothing but our own wheezing breaths for accompaniment.  There's very little electricity available, so no iPhone charging and mostly you actually do need to be aware of your surroundings, particularly our guide calling, "No! Other right!"</p>
<p dir="ltr">So these were the tracks in my internal jukebox. You'll notice twin themes of cold and lack of oxygen. Not an accident, that.</p>
<div class='separator' style='clear: both; text-align: center;'> <a href='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjARKuhSgGdSSpN5af4Ck42xBRVdf4N43gG0g-muHtOS2y2DPSH67ye4idtBPp_a0-Cg_TXPvvniI0CKFOlJY_QV5YJGCAQXRuZERy5JSCY_EhbSPNcM0SHYoZaykXJjhqXFI7aqRxn4mZV/s1600/580566_948238495662_879290264_n.jpg' imageanchor='1' style='margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;'> <img border='0' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjARKuhSgGdSSpN5af4Ck42xBRVdf4N43gG0g-muHtOS2y2DPSH67ye4idtBPp_a0-Cg_TXPvvniI0CKFOlJY_QV5YJGCAQXRuZERy5JSCY_EhbSPNcM0SHYoZaykXJjhqXFI7aqRxn4mZV/s400/580566_948238495662_879290264_n.jpg' /> </a> </div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17862323392193749470noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513531733303572543.post-10981442919783400612013-01-22T13:18:00.000+00:002013-01-22T13:18:37.577+00:00Round the world: Siem Reap, Cambodia<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1IOJwzLCkTvJzhjiyA9zRw4CtWquYm6Xxqwhun2-qyduxZKy-vENGUbHba97fnnahcbTmt5rMJk1BT7nVNlP9tSmfqV4UqulqQuROTBVwnLd1euuXVad6V7o8GBpVLqmm6HYnVqUJP-r2/s1600/6ddbc5fae31397a14985ebf65b329cc3c07031e0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1IOJwzLCkTvJzhjiyA9zRw4CtWquYm6Xxqwhun2-qyduxZKy-vENGUbHba97fnnahcbTmt5rMJk1BT7nVNlP9tSmfqV4UqulqQuROTBVwnLd1euuXVad6V7o8GBpVLqmm6HYnVqUJP-r2/s400/6ddbc5fae31397a14985ebf65b329cc3c07031e0.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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<b>Where we were</b></div>
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The city adjacent to Angor Wat and its surrounding temples. I'm ashamed to say I hadn't heard of it till we decided to go see the famous site and realised that was where we'd have to fly into and stay.</div>
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Cambodia had not been on our itinerary, but once we realised that the original plan would have had us in Bangkok for the triple whammy of Christmas and New Year's Full Moon Parties we took the lovely Ashley of <a href="http://ourdearladyexpatriate.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Our Dear Lady Expatriate's</a> advice and booked the flights.</div>
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Unfortunately for me and our joyful Christmas in luxury plans I got on the train in Penang feeling a little headachey and got off eight hours later with a raging fever that only grew as we slept in the hideous airport hotel in Kuala Lumpur. Having been horribly sick on the plane (I'm so sorry, man in 12C) and fearing I'd be quarantined, we arrived at the hotel just in time for me to curl up whimpering on the lobby sofa while Greg got reception to call their Doctor. I had somehow contracted Typhoid. Merry Christmas, me!</div>
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<b>Where we stayed </b></div>
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The Ree Hotel, a 4 1/2 * of faded opulence a few kilometres outside the city centre that we got as a bargain deal through Agoda.</div>
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The bargain got even more bargainous as, having been lambasted by Doctor Ly for leaving me in the lobby for 30 minutes as our room was not ready, the abashed staff led us to a ginormous corner suite room complete with lounge, bedroom and two bathrooms.</div>
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It made the fact I didn't leave the hotel for 5 days a little easier to bear at least and the staff were beyond accommodating from this point on.</div>
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<b>What I read</b></div>
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Nothing at all. That's how ill I was.</div>
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<b>What I listened to</b></div>
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See above</div>
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<b>What I consumed</b></div>
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Lots of nice soups via room service. Tiny bread rolls. Plantains to get my potassium levels back up. 6 litres of fluid via a drip. Enormous amounts of IV antibiotics, sleeping pills and painkillers. A little tiny bit of the Christmas Eve Gala Dinner that the hotel kindly brought up to our room since we couldn't attend.</div>
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<b>What I did</b></div>
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Slept, whimpered, needlessly apologised to Greg, slept some more.</div>
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Had my first ever blood test. Was not quite as horrendous as I'd imagined largely due to the Doctor taking advantage of the language barrier to lie to me about whether a needle was involved until it was too late for me to complain.</div>
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Called home and worried everyone.</div>
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Called home when the fever was down and reassured everyone.</div>
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<b>And a few days later...</b></div>
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Saw Angkor Wat and many other temples, best of which was the Indiana Jones style Ta Prohm, on a days tuktuk tour. They did all start to blend into one after the first few hours, but the sheer size of Angkor Wat really staggered me. It really was a whole town back in the day.</div>
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Wandered very slowly around the night markets and through the restaurants of Pub Street buying gifts for friends back home.</div>
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Rejoiced, weakly, that if nothing else at least I'd lost the 5lbs I gained in America. Yay.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17862323392193749470noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513531733303572543.post-65477730734475500342013-01-14T10:30:00.000+00:002013-01-14T10:30:00.874+00:00Music Glue: High on a Hill - Kate Rusby<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<object width="320" height="266" class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://2.gvt0.com/vi/JX_2NLrF484/0.jpg"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/JX_2NLrF484&fs=1&source=uds" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><embed width="320" height="266" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/JX_2NLrF484&fs=1&source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object></div>
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In my head more than any other song this trip. Old skool but I love it.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17862323392193749470noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513531733303572543.post-51397102032793128832013-01-13T11:30:00.000+00:002013-01-13T11:30:03.211+00:00Timesuck Sunday: Big business and government in bed or everything is way way more shit than you think <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Britain's answer to Noam Chomsky briefly highlights the <a href="http://www.markcurtis.info/" target="_blank">links between DfID and large scale agribusiness.</a> Always knew the 'development' in DfID needed sarcastic quote marks. Full report <a href="http://curtisresearch.org/pubs.php?filter=all" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
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Naomi Wolfe on <a href="http://m.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2012/dec/29/fbi-coordinated-crackdown-occupy" target="_blank">the FBI working hand in water cannon with corporations</a> to crush Occupy. Full report <a href="http://www.justiceonline.org/commentary/fbi-files-ows.html" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
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Government bodies and big pharma (as predicted) <a href="http://www.badscience.net/2012/12/dreary-false-claims-by-stephen-whitehead-and-deepak-khanna-of-the-abpi/" target="_blank">go after</a> the lovely Ben Goldacre post-Bad Pharma, rather than deal with the issues he addressed.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17862323392193749470noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513531733303572543.post-4758329206707941082013-01-11T10:30:00.000+00:002013-01-11T10:30:00.917+00:00Round the world travel: Georgetown, Penang, Malaysia<br />
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<b>Where we are</b></div>
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A little island off the West coast of the Malaysian mainland with the honour of being an UNESCO World Heritage site for its unique blend of cultural and historical buildings. I've wanted to go here since reading a Guardian article in the Travel section one Saturday morning a few years ago. The idea of wandering around a colonial town that had been restored and re-patriated to its location intrigued me. What we found was even better; a great and proper melting pot of Malay, Indian, British and Chinese all holding their own culture high, but coexisting happily and proud of their Peranakan nature.</div>
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<b>Where we stayed</b></div>
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The Cheong Fatt Tze Mansion aka The Blue House, an award winning reconstruction of Mr Cheong's base, home of his 'favourite seventh wife' according to the complimentary tour we took during our stay.</div>
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It was beautiful from the outside (and very, very blue), covered in enamel frescoes and stained glass windows. Inside it was organised in accordance with Mr Cheong's personal Feng Shui, which whether or not you believe in it, did make it very ordered and symmetrical in a pleasing way.</div>
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Our room was named Nanyang, each of the thrity-odd rooms has its own name and decoration scheme to match. We had straw hats on the walls and giant maps of colonial Malaysia. The room felt like a bizarre mix between what I imagine of an Emperor's bedroom and my old boarding school apartment (as staff not pupil). Looking at the pictures of Mr Cheong in his robes in one and top hat and tails in the other, I don't think the blend was incidental.</div>
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<b>What I read</b></div>
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The paper every morning on my Guardian Anywhere app since we finally had access to consistent wifi and somewhere to lounge post breakfast. Then I got sad about the state of the world and downloaded some chicklit so terrible I'm not even going to admit to having read it.</div>
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<b>What I listened to</b></div>
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Boat To Row's EP 'Higham Hill'. A cure for sadness in all its folky adorableness.</div>
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<b>What we ate</b></div>
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EVERYTHING!!! People come to Penang to eat, which we didn't know until we arrived, but since we were doing pretty well elsewhere at wandering around eating it just got really out of hand here. There aren't enough superlatives even in my considerable arsenal for just how yummy everything was. As our tour guide pointed out, there are no tourist restaurants in Geourgetown only local ones with tourists in them, if you're not good, you shut down. Fast.</div>
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Katsu curry and udon noodles at Red Garden Night Market. Wagamamas is now going to be sad by comparison. Also it doesn't have loud karaoke and bustling family gatherings. More sad points.</div>
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Banana and plum lassis at Amelie, a teeny gypsy caravan of a cafe whose door is nearly obscured by its own greenery.</div>
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A beautiful three course meal overlooking the beach at Thirty Two, set within another gorgeously restored mansion.</div>
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The 'best brownies in Malaysia' and Penang white coffee sitting at a street table in Mike's Place, where (possibly) the eponymous Mike made us laugh with his comments on Greg's drinking and the US presidential race.</div>
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One of the best Indians I've ever eaten at Kashmir, a packed and noisy affair presided over by a sunglasses-at-night bossy patriarch and a team of fairly useless waiters. The tandoori chicken was so good I can see why repeat customers forgive the terrible service.</div>
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Kopis and Nasi Lemak for lunch at 32 Light Street. I wish I knew how to make Kopi when we get home, but google has not been forthcoming.</div>
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A weird jasmine tea from Jing-Si Books and Cafe. They lured us in with the promise of books and coffee and then proceeded to launch into an 11am prayer service. Turns out they're a Buddhist charity sect who learned canvassing techniques from some friendly Catholic nuns. Half expected my atheist heart would burst into flames. Except I didn't, because I don't believe in that stuff.</div>
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Gorgeous creamy porridge and fat french toast every morning at the hotel. Washed down with excellent coffee and fresh squeezed juice.</div>
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<b>What we did</b></div>
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Tried to walk off some of the calories with the '5 cultures on 2 feet' walking tour - from the Colonial district of courts and forts, to Chinatown temples and the noisy, colourful Little India finishing in the brightly painted, restored Straits Collection houses of Lebuh Armenia, where the clan chiefs used to live.</div>
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Wandered in the heat through the functioning Clan Jetties built out over the water.</div>
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Got a lesson in Penang history at the Penang Museum. It was odd, humbling and interesting to read colonial history from the other side.</div>
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Realised that a few boards of information go a long way in historical sites' interest as they were sorely lacking from Fort Cornwallis. </div>
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Walked all the way along the sea front to the new Gurney Plaza and saw the last showing of Skyfall. This was more like I'd been led Malaysian cinema going to be - people chatting, actually answering their phones and having a conversation, eating actual hot dinner foodstuffs and generally not paying alot of attention to the film at all.</div>
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Sat on the day beds in the hotel's beautiful courtyard, stroking the mega fluffy house cat and pretending to be wealthy Malay business people.</div>
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I'm ashamed to say that was it. Aaaalllll the rest of the 5 days we were eating. Or wandering around looking for places to eat next. </div>
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<i>Follow <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/91324229@N06/with/8290312481/" target="_blank">this</a> to my flicker page for more snaps. Take that rubbish internet!</i></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17862323392193749470noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513531733303572543.post-23161238551228448752013-01-09T10:30:00.000+00:002013-01-09T10:30:05.207+00:00Words are pegs: Bilbo, The Hobbit movie<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn1V_qVJ1bSEWMNt7B-HRph5fPFe9vZTY0RpTlEdOURKLtfKGPEFME0YMuGQURoGeB8IdsVXNvEn5dYCn4gMeG1NNZDsvkq0vrTFUmDS3eeUbO7l60WD2NdKlHiiQRWlStgl0AX9QhMOZ5/s1600/images-6.bin" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="299" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn1V_qVJ1bSEWMNt7B-HRph5fPFe9vZTY0RpTlEdOURKLtfKGPEFME0YMuGQURoGeB8IdsVXNvEn5dYCn4gMeG1NNZDsvkq0vrTFUmDS3eeUbO7l60WD2NdKlHiiQRWlStgl0AX9QhMOZ5/s400/images-6.bin" width="400" /></a></div>
<i><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></i>
<span class="line" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">"I know you doubt me, I know you always have, and you're right. I often think of Bag End. I miss my books, and my arm chair, and my garden. See, that's where I belong; that's home, and that's why I came cause you don't have one.. a home. It was taken from you, but I will help you take it back if I can."</span></i></span><br />
<span class="line" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></span>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">a) officially homesick at that moment.</span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">b) tears, little lump in throat.</span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">c) Peter Jackson is a genius.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17862323392193749470noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513531733303572543.post-55010384231763341812013-01-07T10:30:00.000+00:002013-01-07T10:30:01.545+00:00Music Glue: Frightened Rabbit - State Hospital<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/BJb4uNi1VwU?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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I can't believe how long it's taken me to get round to listening to this, but soon as I did I nearly stopped in my tracks to tell everyone nearby to get it immediately. The drums! So good! And Scott's voice makes me want a cuddle and a wooly jumper and a hot toddy. Love.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17862323392193749470noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513531733303572543.post-67108112202035164432013-01-06T12:31:00.000+00:002013-01-06T12:39:36.892+00:00Round the world travel: Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbkrUf6vGsfJkJW_6jHu2r9BzRxNXALKhWsntz_WK-J2KvjkCwhQ9W9TpQHDxzDQjzLDQ1F43M9iDOtz-_MgPCOewI9EzQK1gK7wb3Je6A7OPWBgWQjQTt5j_v2c_MbLXi9FYyH_83t326/s1600/.facebook_1587703353.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbkrUf6vGsfJkJW_6jHu2r9BzRxNXALKhWsntz_WK-J2KvjkCwhQ9W9TpQHDxzDQjzLDQ1F43M9iDOtz-_MgPCOewI9EzQK1gK7wb3Je6A7OPWBgWQjQTt5j_v2c_MbLXi9FYyH_83t326/s400/.facebook_1587703353.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<b>Where we are</b></div>
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KL, for short, was not so much a destination when I planned this trip as a necessary stopover from the already necessary stopover Singapore, in order to get to Penang. It was always going to be hard to follow the glitzy act of Singapore, but it was a pretty nice place with some pretty nice stuff in it and the first time I felt like I was really in Asia.</div>
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<b>Where we stayed</b></div>
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A compromise between the 0* dorm rooms and the 5* blandness we have discovered the boutique hotel. Anggun Hotel is just round the corner from Jl Bukit Bintang, the city's major bar stretch, but the rooms all open onto a quiet fountain and bird filled courtyard, so you wouldn't know that when you're sleeping only when you realise how easy it is to find your way home after too much strawberry mojito.</div>
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For not much more than the price of a bunk bed with 8 other people we were treated to an upgrade to a suite room, welcome drinks, towel swans and rose petals and a giant bath and shower room. The restaurant served the first of many delicious meals we were to eat in Malaysia and allowed Greg to indulge his love of of rooftop dining.</div>
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<b>What I read</b></div>
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'<i>Starving The Artist' - William F. Aicher</i></div>
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A treatise against 'the internet culture of free' and its effects on the music industry. I can't say I either entirely agree of disagree, or whether I feel a bit like the battle's lost and we need to move on. Probably that.</div>
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<b>What I listened to</b></div>
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Birds singing in the courtyard, the fountain that kept making us think it was raining, car horns, construction everywhere.</div>
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<b>What we ate</b></div>
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A very nice couple of curries at Anggun's restaurant, plus banana pancakes for dessert.</div>
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Chicken soup and blue sticky rice at The Old China Cafe, a cleaned up relic of old KL that wouldn't have looked out of place in Paris.</div>
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Kopi at Sing Sen Nam Kopitiam.</div>
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<b>What we did</b></div>
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Took the train from Singapore to KL. Second class as they were the only seats left. Lets just say I'm glad National Express set the bar soooooo low for my expectations of train timeliness/cleanliness/pleasantness.</div>
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Took Lonely Planet's Chinatown walking tour to see the temples and got hopelessly lost due to road construction. It was ok, however, as we found ourselves in the Pelaling Night Market where I got giddy haggling for cool vest tops and knock off bags.</div>
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Went up to the top (well as far as you're allowed) of the Petronas Towers, the space age twin towers that dominate the KL skyline. Greg took lots of photos of me trying not to give in to my fear of heights and then insisted we press our foreheads to the glass Feris Bueller style. Meanie.</div>
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Bought Greg some smart shoes at Suria KLCC mall. SE Asia definitely does malls better than we do. Two weeks before Christmas and it didn't resemble the 4th ring of Hell. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My 'I'm not at all scared of heights' face.</td></tr>
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<i>More photos to follow when we're out of weedy internet land...</i></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17862323392193749470noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513531733303572543.post-30075205976718761932012-12-31T06:09:00.000+00:002012-12-31T06:09:04.760+00:00Round the word travel: Singapore<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ3wsV_vUgGguqkmJEfy9LK4r-dX7l2fRnLGkTimM2KDyKbWBOOqNZIYPHB0Ejd-cCNib1fa8tQkyCbYqpOHirPXDJ9hXuuOdZZn7kdTyw2XllMi0AUcd-eluny73fbJOFtxmveyCvyeV_/s1600/59b47f2fd69bf8a4c2e2606a6ed18d12773b4540.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ3wsV_vUgGguqkmJEfy9LK4r-dX7l2fRnLGkTimM2KDyKbWBOOqNZIYPHB0Ejd-cCNib1fa8tQkyCbYqpOHirPXDJ9hXuuOdZZn7kdTyw2XllMi0AUcd-eluny73fbJOFtxmveyCvyeV_/s400/59b47f2fd69bf8a4c2e2606a6ed18d12773b4540.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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<b>Where we are</b></div>
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Singapore city, a place I'd previously only thought about as a stopover en route to the other side of the world. However, Hanna's insistence it is the only city she has ever liked made us reconsider and arrange to stay several days to explore. Very glad we did, because what we found was a city that just <i>works</i> - the transport, the food, the shiny malls, all of it ticked over perfectly and resulted in a pleasant and hassle free introduction to South East Asia that laid to rest any fears of a repeat of the struggle that was backpacking round China a decade ago.</div>
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Ultimately Singapore is a little too clean and sterile for my tastes. I like my cities a bit more down and dirty (oh, London, I miss you!), though here Greg and I disagreed, but we did agree we'd be totally happy if I ever got posted here for 6 months. It'd be an easily exotic and vibrant place to live.</div>
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<b>Where we stayed</b></div>
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The rumours that accommodation here is expensive were not exaggerated in the least, so we sought out the joys of airbnb again and found ourselves staying in the 'Tiffany Suite', a beautiful apartment decorated just like a Tiffany box. Rick, the super friendly and extraordinarily well dressed owner, had perfectly matched the eggshell blue shade and finished the entire place off as near to a 5* hotel as he could. It was nice to stay in a more residential area of town, too.</div>
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'Betterness: Economics for Humans' by my favourite Harvard Business Review blogger, Umair Haque. I wish every business leader in the world were forced to read this.</div>
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<b>What we listened to</b></div>
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Rick had an Apple TV, so aside from catching up on 3 months of Equals3 on YouTube, I excitedly realised you could listen to NPR via iTunes podcast. We also found the Freakonomics podcasts really interesting. New subscription added.</div>
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<b>What we imbibed</b></div>
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A traditional Singaporian breakfast at Killiney's Kopitiam where we ate french toast with soft boiled eggs and drank our first cups of Kopi, the sweet and delish Singaporian version of coffee.</div>
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Singapore slings and peanuts at Raffles Long Bar, because sometimes you have to do the touristy thing. And also they were very, very nice. Greg got quite giddy, but refused to be taken advantage of in Tiffany's next door.</div>
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Dim Sum at one of the huge mall food courts. Nothing like the sad and pathetic affairs in British shopping centres, these courts were tasty and giant.</div>
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The famed chicken rice at Chatterbox (Top of the M). After Lonely Planet talked it up, I was underwhelmed by the generic nature of this place.</div>
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Got overwhelmed by the shiny shiny, compounded a million fold by the Christmas lights, along Orchard Road. It cured me of my shopping mall aversion post-Sydney, by just being amazing and glitzy and beautiful and full of things I wish I could afford/fit in my backpack. </div>
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Found the only bustling and slightly grubby part of town, just to reassure ourselves Singapore was real and not some giant hologram, in Little India.</div>
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Visited the gorgeously decorated, like a giant doll's house, Peranakan Museum to learn about the culture of the city and surrounding area.</div>
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Took the Lonely Planet's walking tour of the Colonial District, along the Quays and over the Helix Bridge to the newest shiny place, Marina Bay Sands. </div>
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Saw The Hobbit (OH MY DAYS! SQUEE!) at the smuggest cinema ever invented, the new 'Couple's Cinema' at Golden Village. It only has two person loveseats, generously spaced out for privacy, for cuddling on in all your couple-y smugness.</div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17862323392193749470noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513531733303572543.post-58167702972631750822012-12-21T10:30:00.000+00:002012-12-21T10:30:02.250+00:00Round the world: Bali, Indonesia<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>Where we are</b></div>
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A little island of chill, where pavements are treacherous, people are friendly and offerings scatter the streets. A common Aussie holiday destination that feels full on exotic to us Brits due to being half a world away. It's been on my radar since my best friend and for-all-intents-and-purposes, little sister (we've been besties since we were 2 and 3 respectively) moved there three and a half years ago to teach tiny children at a swish international school.</div>
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Despite enviously eyeing her facebook photos for years I was still entirely unprepared for just how gorgeous the whole island and everything in it is and even less so for how friendly and smiley the people are. "Where are you going?" "Where are you from?" Just blatant, friendly curiousity and endless giggles and smiles. Consider me thoroughly charmed. </div>
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<b>Where we stayed</b></div>
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In Canggu, a little way down the coast from the tourist havens of Kuta and Seminyak. We rudely ousted Hanna from her room and stole the double bed, relegating her to a daybed in the living room of her cute apartment. (Not really, she offered. She did!)</div>
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With a beautiful pool, perilously wonky stairs, striking wooden accents and an abundance of appliances that only just about worked, it is apparently very authentically Balinese.</div>
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Hanna also has that great way of making everywhere she lives feel like hers (I think it has something to do with all the purple and cartoon characters), so it was a nice little bit of home for me, too.</div>
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<b>What I read</b></div>
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'A Feast For Crows' - G.R.R. Martin. Death, death, dismemberment, rape and torture. Still I slog on...</div>
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'The Portable Athiest' - Christopher Hitchens (ed.) An excellent collection of important essays from antiquity to the present all with witty little intros by Hitchens himself.</div>
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'Dead Reckoning' - Charlaine Harris. aka a True Blood novel. For anyone who didn't know it was books before it was TV, do go read. They're great fun. I'm so still Team Bill.</div>
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<b>What I listened to</b></div>
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Hanna's friend and colleaugue, Simon's excellent itunes collection. Otherwise nothing of note. I am very definitely starting to miss having access to my stuff. One iPod is just not enough.</div>
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<b>What we ate</b></div>
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Lots of Nasi Goreng, an Indonesian version of fried rice that bears very little resemblance in taste and certainly in post-eating-grossness to English Chinese fried rice. The best I had was from a Canggu beachside bar called Eropa.</div>
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A giant, but slightly disappointing seafood platter in Jimbaran. The beachside, and they do mean beachside, the tables were being carried out to the sand as the tide retreated, setting was stunning as the sun went down, but the flies were not and somewhat marred my enjoyment of the lobster.</div>
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An amazing three course Italian meal at Ultimo in Seminyak. I had the black squid ink ravioli and it was only marginally less delish than the one I had in NYC.</div>
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A giant tower of a teriyaki burger at Echo Beach, a hipstery beachside bar. It had piles of onion rings and excellent skinny fries.</div>
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A collection of ots of things I don't know the name of, but which were all delicious at Warung Padang, a warung being a typical Balinese style of buffet-ish restaurant.</div>
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A super strong, but super good couple of coffees at the Melbourne Cafe in Seminyak. The lovely owner had gone to great lengths to create an Indonesian take on a Melbourne coffeeshop and proudly displayed his English language GCSE certificate on the wall alongside all the jars of Vegemite.</div>
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A horrible, dry and rubbish cupcake at the Grocer and Grind also in Seminyak. Don't go there, go to Melbourne!</div>
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An all you can eat brunch at the newest 5* in town, the W Hotel in honour of Hanna's friend's birthday. It was fully beautiful as was all the food. A good solid three hours of eating is decadent even when not in such classy surroundings.</div>
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An underwhelming buffet at a super touristy pretend warung near Treetops where we horrifically and blatantly overcharged as the price seemed to fluctuate depending on just how much the waiters thought they could get away with. </div>
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Ate a special 'thank you' dinner with Hanna at her fav place, Jem me. Fav because it's purple and has a jewellers of the same name attached, so the entire place is full of sparkles. The food was great, but oft forgotten as we magpied-out.</div>
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<b>What we did</b></div>
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Lazed by the pool. Alot. Esepecially in the first few days where the heat nearly killed our poor, cold-blooded English selves. I'm normally all right by dint of my Maltese blood, but this was the sort of heat normally only experienced when opening your fan oven, the sort that melts your mascara and singes your lungs.</div>
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Wandered the short way along the beach to the above restaurants, watching the surfers enjoying the waves.</div>
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Was hugely freaked out by the mangy curs aka Bali's sad, uncared for dog population. Became convinced I had contracted rabies from stepping in a particularly pathetic specimen's paw print. Was ridiculed. I won't be totally sure I'm not dying till I can get through the next six months without foaming at the mouth Old Yeller style.</div>
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Swanked it up in the boutiques in Seminyak. So many shiny, pretty things, so impossible to look at them without falling down a hole in the pavement.</div>
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Learned to play poker at Hanna's insistence.</div>
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Got a mani pedi at Esthetic spa in Canggu Square. It was lovely. And since Greg didn't want to join in, we went back for full body massages later in the week.</div>
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I watched Hanna and Greg clamber all over the aerial assault courses at Treetops, a series of wooden bridges, flying foxes and cargo nets strung high in the air. All fun and games until Greg injured his arm and Hanna had to be rescued after refusing to swing from the highest level!</div>
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Tagged along to Hanna's work Christmas party at Pavillion bar where we drank endless mojitos and ended up dancing drunkenly on the beach at La Planche.</div>
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Wandered around a water Temple and a sea Temple (the full names of which I hope Hanna will share in the comments) trying to concentrate despite the heat and potential rabid moneky attack, on all the beauty.</div>
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Had our pictures taken with some (we think) Javanese tourists. Bein small, dark haired and a little bit Oriental looking I'm not of much interest, but yellow haired Hanna and beardy Greg attracted alot of attention.</div>
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Watched the dress rehearsal for Hanna's class Christmas show. It was predictably cute and unintentionally hilarious, because they're 4 and easily distracted.</div>
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Spent a couple of days staying in Ubud at the lush Kori Ubud Resort (huge gardens, yummy restaurant, infinity pool and, woop, air con) just wandering the art galleries, shopping for 'antiques made to order' and eating at beautiful places overlooking glassy rice paddies. </div>
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Visited the Setia Darma House of Masks and Puppets,a relatively new and still being constructed, private collection of, you guessed it, masks and puppets set in several tradtionally built houses admidst well kept grounds. It was an amazing collection. The Papau New Guinea ones were the stuff of nightmares.</div>
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Strolled along Balangan Beach in the midday sun (old English habits die hard) and watched the butterflies flutter by.</div>
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Played the 'what's the craziest thing you can see on a motorbike?' game. Winners include 100 bags of prawn crackers, 3 small children and 2 surfboards, one under each arm.</div>
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Were driven everywhere by the lovely, smiley Made in his big, swish, air conditioned car. Endlessly patient, inexpensive and chilled out, if you're in Bali and you don't want to drive (you don't; it's terrifying) make use of his uber-cool business card and give him a ring.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17862323392193749470noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513531733303572543.post-73065577483441195102012-12-19T16:54:00.001+00:002012-12-19T16:54:54.134+00:00Words are pegs: Granny Weatherwax<p dir="ltr">"There is a very interesting debate raging at the moment about the nature of sin, for example," said Oats.<br>
"And what do they think? Against it, are they?" said Granny Weatherwax.<br>
"It's not as simple as that. It's not a black and white issue. There are so many shades of gray."<br>
"Nope."<br>
"Pardon?"<br>
"There's no grays, only white that's got grubby. I'm surprised you don't know that. And sin, young man, is when you treat people as things. Including yourself. That's what sin is."<br>
"It's a lot more complicated than that—"<br>
"No. It ain't. When people say things are a lot more complicated than that, they means they're getting worried that they won't like the truth. People as things, that's where it starts."<br>
"Oh, I'm sure there are worse crimes—"<br>
"<i>But they starts with thinking about people as things...</i>"</p>
<div class='separator' style='clear: both; text-align: center;'> <a href='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3ZqxZPOo4y33WwmDNqoBES3Rl3GGgWbbmI_OEGuRbrCGMmkXF1BYq0CrVkxZboigWwAySdAbIE1y9yajEsQxwk2HptTYzPWH-yt6Xb64tXYKvSbFiFF61QqTEehmEQynBFyJiRtFwpBKr/s1600/PratchettCarpeJugulum.jpg' imageanchor='1' style='margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;'> <img border='0' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3ZqxZPOo4y33WwmDNqoBES3Rl3GGgWbbmI_OEGuRbrCGMmkXF1BYq0CrVkxZboigWwAySdAbIE1y9yajEsQxwk2HptTYzPWH-yt6Xb64tXYKvSbFiFF61QqTEehmEQynBFyJiRtFwpBKr/s400/PratchettCarpeJugulum.jpg' /> </a> </div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17862323392193749470noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513531733303572543.post-73156930486637137732012-12-17T10:30:00.000+00:002012-12-17T10:30:03.986+00:00Music glue: Tellison do Christmastime<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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OK I'm so last year, but I'm out of the loop and this is lovely. If it doesn't make you want to hug Stephen H. Davidson and feed him mince pies, you have coal for a heart.</div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">"This music is the glue of the world Mark. It's what holds it all together. Without this, life would be meaningless."</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Eddie, 'Empire Records'</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17862323392193749470noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513531733303572543.post-19785832431157888872012-12-16T11:00:00.000+00:002012-12-16T11:00:09.078+00:00Timesuck Sunday: Fantasy and feminism<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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There have been a number of interesting articles about my favourite genre, fantasy, and the historically correct/incorrect-ness of misogyny and sexism therein. As I have failed to read the last GoT novel, because I just can't take another rape/attempted rape/breast mutilation/murder I find these arguments challenge some of my base assumptions.</div>
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Here's what kicked it all off, <a href="http://fuckyeahscifiwomenofcolour.tumblr.com/post/37413846476/author-scott-lynch-responds-to-a-critic-of-the" target="_blank">author Scott Lynch zinging</a> a bigoted commenter who complained about his 40-ish, black, mother-of-two, pirate protagonist.<br />
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Through that weird convergence of the interweb, <a href="http://ipad.themarysue.com/themarysue/#!/entry/is-historical-accuracy-a-good-defense-of-patriarchal-societies-in,50bf887dd7fc7b56708db707" target="_blank">Dan Wohl over at The Mary Sue</a> has recently written about 'historical accuracy' as a justification for sexism in fantasy.<br />
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But while I must thank him for introducing me to <a href="http://www.quickmeme.com/Privilege-Denying-Dude/?upcoming" target="_blank">'privilege denying dude'</a>, I find his assertion that history was the history of men a little incorrect. Thankfully <a href="http://www.tor.com/blogs/2012/12/historically-authentic-sexism-in-fantasy-lets-unpack-that" target="_blank">Tansy Roberts</a> has unpicked this way better than I could: "<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">History is actually a long series of centuries of men writing down what they thought was important and interesting, and FORGETTING TO WRITE ABOUT WOMEN."</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman';"><span style="font-size: small;">T</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">o bring it all back around, Fox Meadows has this helpful PSA </span><a href="http://fozmeadows.wordpress.com/2012/12/08/psa-your-default-narrative-settings-are-not-apolitical/" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;" target="_blank">'Your Default Narrative Settings Are Not Apolitical'</a>.<br />
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Lastly, some older posts on the Song of Ice and Fire (GoT) series. I'm still mad conflicted, but we all know I'll read it anyway...<br />
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Tiger Beatdown's Sady <a href="http://tigerbeatdown.com/2011/08/26/enter-ye-myne-mystic-world-of-gayng-raype-what-the-r-stands-for-in-george-r-r-martin/#more-3711" target="_blank">not loving the Thrones.</a> She makes <i>some</i> good points, but she's a bit of a dick about it.<br />
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Spencer Ackerman <a href="http://spencerackerman.typepad.com/attackerman/2011/08/when-bad-things-happen-to-fictional-people.html" target="_blank">putting 'dick' more politely.</a><br />
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Erik Cain <a href="http://ordinary-gentlemen.com/blog/2011/08/sexism-in-fantasy/" target="_blank">thoughtfully disagreeing</a>, with an actual argument and everything.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17862323392193749470noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513531733303572543.post-17933448261360262632012-12-15T15:42:00.004+00:002012-12-15T15:44:16.697+00:00Round the world travel: New Zealand - South Island<br />
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<b>Where we were</b></div>
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The wilder, quieter, virtually uninhabited half of New Zealand. We probably, on reflection, didn't quite have enough time to fully do both islands justice, but we gave it a good go. I blame everyone I met in every hostel that banged on about Franz Josef. I also thank them profusely, because it was even more beautiful than the North. I really wouldn't have thought that to be possible, but i was incorrect.</div>
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We found out during a dinner time chat with some construction workers that they have a huuuuge labour shortage. So if you're out of work and willing to move, you could do a lot, lot worse than building houses in stunning wilderness. Social butterfy, city lovers need not apply...</div>
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<b>Where we stayed</b></div>
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Still in our little orange van (the 'snugglebus' as Greg manfully christened it). This week and a bit's campsites included the riverside Blenheim Top 10 (good facilities, if a little characterless), the weird, hippyish, but ultimately charming Hangdog Camp (honesty boxes, eco credentials and revolutionary rhetoric toilet door grafitti), the beautiful community run Okarito Campsite (lagoon views and stone BBQs).</div>
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Worst of the bunch, the scary Deliverence-ville camp in Reefton where we were instructed to park on the local football field and a man shouted at me for soaking my white tee shirt in the sink while I cooked dinner, an act akin to his "taking a shit on his kitchen table" apparently.</div>
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Best, though, was another DOC site near Picton and along the Queen Charlotte Track, Momorangi Bay. Though it was a half hour down the most nauseatingly twisty road in the land (and in NZ that's really saying something), it was green, leafy and private, well, apart from the ducks. You could choose to camp back towards the forest or on the beachfront (we chose forest; less mossies). It had a great kitchen and hot showers, but best of all things it had its own glowworm dell! Just two minutes from the back of the campsite is a path of nature's fairylights. Magic.</div>
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<b>What I read</b></div>
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More Robin Hobb. Are you sensing a theme here? Obsessed.</div>
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<b>What we listened to</b></div>
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The second half of Bill Bryson's 'A Walk In The Woods'. Still hilarious.</div>
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Some intensely frustrating debates Christopher Hitchen's had on various american news shows when promoting his atheist treatise. I'm still so sad he died. What a great man.</div>
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New Zealand radio's answer to Kerrang.fm. It was rooted firmly around the early noughties and full of those songs you only pretend not to like, but totally know all the words to. I'm on the outside, I'm looking in...</div>
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<b>What we ate</b></div>
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Camp kitchen served more porridge with a muesli alternative upon the devastating reveal that Greg doesn't like porridge. Ach! Also, noodles and noodles and a very tasty barley boo stew as per my Nanny Ginger's recipe. I came over a bit Samwise Gamgee about our lack of seasoning. We did at least have po-tat-oes.</div>
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An amazing lamb and vegetable pie, like everything you think a pie should be, but so infrequently is, at Two Rivers Cafe en route from Arthur's Pass.</div>
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A yummy woodfired pizza at the bohemian Dangerous Kitchen in the equally bohemian town of Takaka. We were some of the few patrons wearing shoes and not wearing a wizard cloak. I felt massively left out.</div>
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A gorgeous platter of meats and cheeses in the mediterranean style garden at Wairou River winery. All washed down with one of their gorgeous Pinot Grigios.</div>
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A smoked kipper and quinoa salad that was far, far better than I would ever have thought such a dish could be. Greg's pan fired halibut and potato lumps were also darn tasty. A huge knickerbocker glory to share was the figurative and literal cherry on top of a great meal at Jester House, a must-see artist decorated restaurant and gallery off the main highway. The brightly painted tudor style house and gorgeous cottage-style gardens lie just over a tiny fjord and have their own tame eels to pet in case you get bored of lazing in the sunshine. We didn't.</div>
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<b>What we did</b></div>
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Rented bicycles and took a wine tour of Blenheim and Renwick. Sooooo much easier on the way there. Sooooo much wobblier on the way back. Ahem... We got to try the famous Cloudy Bay Sauvingnon Blanc and discovered why it's so very hard to get hold of (Answ er: It's delicious), sipped several different Pinot Grigios, bought a few to send home and I finally discovered a white wine I really like - Gewurztraminer. Now I just need to learn to say it when tipsy, or sober tbh.</div>
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Got rained out of Kaikoura where we had planned to watch some whales. Que cera cera.</div>
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Kayaked in the Marlborough Sounds. It was my first experience of kayaking, but Greg's done it lots. It was pretty darn beautiful out on the water and we found a little beach to eat our sandwiches on and rest our tired arms for a bit. The way back was a little tougher into the wind, but we got our teamwork on and made it back safely. I can't wait to go again back home, though it won't be near as nice scenery-wise.</div>
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Took a helicopter ride onto Franz Josef and hiked the glacier. It was seriously brilliant. With crampons firmly in place, the ice was reasonably easy to walk on as we followed our charming and funny guide up pick axe hewn steps, through narrow crevasses and even into ice holes for photos. It felt completely remote and otherworldly standing on the blue tinged ice with the rest of the vallley obcured by rolling grey clouds. Magic.</div>
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Warmed up at the hot spring spa afterwards. The private tubs are set in forest dells of their own, so you're outside, but totally private. I felt like an elf princess. </div>
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Had our breath taken from the top of the Hawkes LOOKOUT ('For what?') (Sorry)</div>
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Filled our water bottles from the secret hidden tap by the i-site in Takaka at a tip from a tres eccentric gentleman in dungarees clutching a huge glass bottle who accosted us in the carpark.</div>
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Tramped to Devil's Punchbowl falls at Arthur's Pass, one of the highest alpine towns in the country. They were so high and so powerful I gaped in wonder till an annoying teenage couple arrived and ruined our moment.</div>
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<i>Annoyingly, all the very excellent photos are on the real camera and we lack the technology right now to get them off it and on here. Till then, here are what little I took with my iPhone:</i></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nice spot for breakfast</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hippy market in Takaka. Everyone needs more tiedye, right?</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Whimsy and sun shine at Jester House</td></tr>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17862323392193749470noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513531733303572543.post-42730866070644971922012-12-11T17:29:00.003+00:002012-12-11T17:29:29.233+00:00Music glue: Jewel - Who will save your soul?<br />
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So she's gone all sell out/super country now, but I still miss and love old skool, angry, self-righteous Jewel<span style="font-size: xx-small;">. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">"This music is the glue of the world Mark. It's what holds it all together. Without this, life would be meaningless."</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Eddie, 'Empire Records'</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17862323392193749470noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513531733303572543.post-9667752582836951052012-12-10T13:39:00.001+00:002012-12-10T13:39:42.017+00:00Round the world travel: New Zealand, North Island<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidaOpdVRAQle0VKvTYFGUKu-N4ofwgl6ybHKg4AhVMZ-HjQ_FlI3cjza9n5vbJFS1YBisGAEdsZjn23aGpiiXjYdtx_S5aEHnaYlL3OkHSouVAf2U96hKJ7bhXvtOIZ_Nl9l_l9Iy5dkRW/s1600/e9d1d111e2704c5e6ffd1b158af861746febc2e0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidaOpdVRAQle0VKvTYFGUKu-N4ofwgl6ybHKg4AhVMZ-HjQ_FlI3cjza9n5vbJFS1YBisGAEdsZjn23aGpiiXjYdtx_S5aEHnaYlL3OkHSouVAf2U96hKJ7bhXvtOIZ_Nl9l_l9Iy5dkRW/s400/e9d1d111e2704c5e6ffd1b158af861746febc2e0.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<b>Where we are</b><br />
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That's right, 'we', I've not gone all Gollum, rather my beloved has joined me for the rest of the trip. Not a moment too soon. I had rather missed him.<br />
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Anyway, we're in Middle Earth! Ahem, sorry, reality reistated - New Zealand. But it really is not too much of a stretch, or even a stretch at all to continue believing the former. My word, it is beautiful. I feel like I've barely got to the last 'w' in a never ending 'Woooooowwww!' the whole time. The hills are so green and the waters are so clear, the weather's been bright and the people endlessly friendly. It's outdoorsy tourist heaven. I love it like Hobbits love seed cake. An awful lot.<br />
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<b>Where we're staying</b><br />
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In a Spaceship, a people carrier helpfully MacGyver'ed into a campervan, complete with double bed, cooker, fridge and terrifying chemical toilet, which we thankfully had no need for. It is an ingenious idea, allowing us to pass as a car on ferries and as a tent at campsites, but being warmer and more comfortable to sleep in than either.<br />
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New Zealand is ridiculously well set up for campers. There were campsites of every variety, from basic Department of Conservation (DOC) ones to Top 10 Holiday Parks of every amenity and everything in between.<br />
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Our favourites included the beautiful Mangawhai DOC site near Hihi beach, where the trees had been thoughtfully planted to give each site a measure of privacy and where we passed much time sitting in the sunshine reading. Also, the cold, but set in some stunning scenery DOC site at Tongariro, which was surrounded by great little walking tracks, and the independently run site in Kerikeri that was owned by an exceptionally friedly and helpful host and had a great lounge complete with wood fire.<br />
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Each of the more commercial Top 10 sites were also perfectly fine, but, as with most generic things, not especially exciting. They were, however, useful when in need of a laundry, a kitchen or a hot shower.<br />
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<b>What I read</b><br />
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ALL the Robin Hobbs I could get my mitts on. The Assassin's trilogy,mostly, three big tomes on the trot till I began speaking faux-Medieval in my own head. I miss the characters now like you would a friend, but I'm saving the second trilogy for the long train journeys ahead.<br />
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<b>What we listened to</b><br />
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Bill Bryson's 'A Walk in the Woods'. We spent a lot of the long drives talking, a luxury after three months apart, but when we got a little tired this made us both laugh, despite my having read it before. The attempted outdoorsy-ness meshed well with our camping vibe.<br />
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<b>What we scarfed</b><br />
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Some excellent craft beers at the gorgeous hidden gem of Havana in Wellington. Greg got quite the man crush on the knowledgable hipster barmen. The tapas was pretty good also.<br />
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Camp food - chilli one week, spag bol the next. Alot of noodles for lunch and porridge for breakfast. Home cooking was welcome, for me at least!<br />
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Ritz crackers and Philly cheese - age old family tradition of camping.<br />
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Fish and chips in Turangi.<br />
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Lots of pleasant, but not overly memorable sandwiches, coffees and muffins on the road.<br />
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<b>What we did</b><br />
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Visited the Northern beaches near Hihi, an off-the-beaten path tip off from the gent who ran our first night's campsite. They were beautiful: white sand, turquoise water and utterly, utterly empty.<br />
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Soaked in the gorgeous mineral filled hot spring spa at Te Aroha, a lovely little Edwarcian town whose name means 'the love'.<br />
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Hiked the Tongariro Alpine Crossing, one of the best day walks in the world, surely. It's a tough 20-something kilometre trek over rocky paths, up steps chiselled intot he steeper mountainsides, sliding down volcanic scree, across icy plains and onto a lengthy hillside descent. The views were amazing - amazing. The green and blue jewel coloured lakes, so tempting, but poisonous due to the minerals that give them teir hues, did not look real. The looming form of Ngauruhoe OKA Mount Doom was every bit as forbidding and unscalable as it seemed to Sam and Frodo. Exhausting excellence.<br />
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Lazed by the van in the weak sunshine and read companionably.<br />
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Picnicked at numerous sites labelled 'LOOKOUT'. Chanelled my mother by saying "For what?" at every single one.<br />
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Giggled at the oddly detailed roadsigns urging drivers to 'Merge like a zip', Who doesn't love a roadside simile?<br />
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Wandered round and fell completely in love with Wellington. If Camden were an entire city, but without the attitude, it'd be Wellington. Visited the Te Papa Museum, a brilliantly informative and well presented collection of history. Saw Argo at the absolutely gorgeous Embassy Cinema. I wish all cinemas were like that. Put the Odeon to shaaaame.<br />
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Were ever so slightly disappointed by the Glow worm cave tour after being very disappointed to find that the blackwater rafting was fully booked. Too much talking and too commercialised was Greg's succinct review. The glow worms were pretty (in the dark only) though.<br />
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Walked to the Te Porere Redoubt after spending the day in Turangi preparing for Tongariro. Mostly I wanted to go to see what I'd only previously heard of in Skyrim. Thankfully we were not attacked by Bandits and my imaginary pony did not fall down it and get stuck.<br />
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Ran the <a href="http://katysordinarydays.blogspot.sg/2012/12/30-before-30-run-half-marathon.html" target="_blank">Speights</a> West Coaster Half Marathon. Did not die. Yay.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Northern beaches</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Te Aroha</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tongariro - I promise he enjoyed it really </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A week later it erupted for reals</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Havana</td></tr>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17862323392193749470noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513531733303572543.post-62570916905818001492012-12-07T10:30:00.000+00:002012-12-07T10:30:02.788+00:0030 before 30: #15 Get a mani pedi<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: justify;">
One of those things that's only really a luxury if you've been a student roughly for forever, but I've never been quite able to justify the expense on something I could do alright myself. While I have had manicures done in the past they were for the application of those horrendous fake nails that afflict every girl from Essex at some point or another. A far cry from the relaxing and classy treat I promised myself now. </div>
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Cue Bali and my beloved little sister to the rescue. For the pirce of about 15 pounds I was washed and massaged, moisturised and polished all while reclining on a gorgeous cream sofa in a beautifully decorated spa - natural wooden beams, sparkly light installations, cream everything else. It was so very lovely I felt like apologising for the state of my travel and running weary appendages. After weeks of slumming it, it's very nice to feel shiny again. I could most definitely get used to this and I think I shall. </div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17862323392193749470noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513531733303572543.post-89449735814844637272012-12-05T10:30:00.000+00:002012-12-05T10:30:04.535+00:00Words are pegs: A Feast For Crows, GRR Martin<div>
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"Even so she'd called it love, till Tris began to go on about the children she would bear him; a dozen sons at least, and oh, some daughters too. 'I don't want to have a dozen sons,' she had told him, appalled. 'I want to have adventures.'"</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17862323392193749470noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513531733303572543.post-21602862113650295962012-12-04T10:30:00.000+00:002012-12-04T10:30:03.097+00:0030 before 30: Run a half marathon<div>
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Well I did it! I can't say I ran it all, but then I don't think very many of the 300 or so people who took part can say so either. The Speight's West Coaster is one of the toughest marathons in New Zealand, the half course traverses the middle and end of the full one. With well over a thousand feet of vertical ascent, the first 6 miles is one of the absolute hardest physical things I've ever done.</div>
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The race begins on a stretch of Bethell's Beach, over firm black sand and through a shallow river meeting the sea before beginning the brutal climb up the dunes and into the hills. Any pretensions I had of running the ascent were soon put to bed. I fell back on my I'm-horribly-under-trained-for-this race plan of 'run what you can and walk what you can't', heeding the advice of my much more race experienced friend Tally, to always start slower than you intend to finish.</div>
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The course climbed and climbed over various terrain - scrubby brush, wider parts of grass, extremely narrow sandy cliffs and, just before the midway point, a cruel set of near vertical stairs. I got splinters in my hands from gorse bushes and sank to my ankles in boggy mud. I had one small moment of thinking I probably couldn't do this, but realised there was no easy way home and pressed on.</div>
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After the aid station, at which I drank more Sunny Delight orange 'juice' in one go than ever in my whole life, the going got a little easier and I picked up the pace. Not entirely, but mostly downhill, the cliffs were less terrifying on the way down and I was sure the worst was behind me.</div>
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Ha! In mile 11, just as I was beginning to think it had to be nearly over, after all, I could see the beach where we'd started oh so long ago, the course turned upwards again through a forest path and along an open field. Clambering over yet another stye, I looked in mild confusion at the course pointer set in the middle of a small, fast flowing river. There was another arrow pointing the same way thirty feet downstream. In case finishing a race with very wet feet wasn't quite harsh enough the final mile of the course took us over a quarter mile of sand dunes that pretty much felt like the Sahara. If there's anything worse than running on deep, dry sand, it's running on deep, dry sand in wet trainers.</div>
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But I did it! It took 4 hours and 25 minutes, though before you judge me the world's worst runner I should point out that the fastest man finished in 2 hours 11 minutes and woman 2 hours 50 minutes, roughly double what you'd normally expect.</div>
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Can't wait to chop that in half (at least) on a flat course, but neither can I wait to try more trail running. Just might wait for the bruises and bumps and scratches and scrapes to heal first. I'm not <i>that </i>tough.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17862323392193749470noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513531733303572543.post-2437355895687130662012-12-02T11:00:00.000+00:002012-12-02T11:00:07.677+00:00Music glue: Endor<div>
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I can't say it better than one of my favourite tweets of all time. I forget the author, but it basically said, "This is Endor and if you don't like this, you don't like music." Yep.</div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">"This music is the glue of the world Mark. It's what holds it all together. Without this, life would be meaningless."</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Eddie, 'Empire Records'</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17862323392193749470noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513531733303572543.post-48636140435604921882012-12-01T13:03:00.001+00:002012-12-01T13:09:28.620+00:00Round the world travel: Airlie Beach and the Whitsundays<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>Where I am</b></div>
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Airlie Beach, 'the gateway to the Whitsundays' as it is now emblazoned on my brain after reading such on every piece of tourist literature in which it is referenced.I was basically in search of a Byron Bay replacement to make up for the horendousness of Surfer's Paradise. Airlie proved not to really resemble either, having a somewhat older crowd more up for sailing than sitting in trees with ukeleles. That said, after an initial bout of disappointment, I really grew to love the place. </div>
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As for the Whitsundays, you'd have to be blind not to appreciate the beauty of the white sands, turquoise seas and deep green bush that comprise the islands. You'd also have to be much richer to get to stay on the ones that really count.</div>
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<b>Where I stayed</b></div>
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The cumbersomely titles Backpackers By The Bay. My favourite hostel thus far, it was a tightly run ship presided over by a very friendly patriarch insistent that everyone participate in each evening's dinnertime quiz. While forced group participation is normally the stuff of cringy nightmare to me, this brief interlude ensured that everyone easily got to know one another and no one ate their meal alone.</div>
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With comfy beds, clean rooms and powerful showers, not to mention super friendly (and easy on the eye) staff I was very happy to extend my stay here those few more days.</div>
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<b>What I read</b></div>
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'Fool's Errand' - Robin Hobb, purchased in Brisbane. I realised halfway through that it is the first in a second trilogy about the same characters. Not impossible to follow, but I sense alot of things would have had more significance if I'd read those ones first!</div>
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<b>What I listened to</b></div>
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The Promise Ring, Jimmy Eat World, Hundred Reasons - noughties emo time.</div>
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<b>What I ate</b></div>
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Some excellent sandwiches. Quite literally the best wrap I have ever, ever eaten at the Easy Cafe. It was mango chicken, with soft, slippery mangoes, honey-mustard dressing, salad and marinated chicken all toasted and served with homemade tortilla chips. Drooling just remembering it. Nom.</div>
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Big, fat toasties and spicy chunky chips at the Sidewalk Cafe. Super friednly service, too.</div>
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Lots of ice cream, icluding the New Zealand ice cream factory's new flavour, dark chocolate and orange. Grown up ice cream flavour, but ruined by my love for rainbow sprinkle cones.</div>
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<b>What I did</b></div>
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Lazed by the lagoon. Due to the large numbers of box jellyfish that inhabit the sea in these shores, the local council built a gorgeous outside lagoon pool for everyone to swim in during the summer months. It's a great idea and is really well maintained and spacious enough that it never felt really crowded even at the weekend.</div>
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Sat on the beach in the evening and practiced my sketching while watching the sunset.</div>
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Wandered the Saturday craft market. Bought a new nose stud and was fed chocolate by the lady at the stall for 'having a wonderful laugh'.</div>
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Finished making a giant friendship bracelet I started back in New York.</div>
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Wandered the amazingly well stocked Book Exchange. Found the next in my trilogy. Score.</div>
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Had some beers at Beaches. Fresh Hell.</div>
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Hung out with a group of guys currently listing their address as 'the beach' who I met having somehow ended up on Airlie's Reclaim The Night March. I am now an international feminist force.</div>
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Took a lazy and lovely cruise round the islands, stopping at Whitehaven beach to lie on the white, white sands and swim in the blue, blue sea. </div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17862323392193749470noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513531733303572543.post-57665242886856992362012-11-28T07:45:00.000+00:002012-11-28T07:45:04.728+00:00Words are pegs: Heroism, Brooke Foss Wescott<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; line-height: 19px;">"Great occasions do not make heroes or cowards; they simply unveil them to the eyes. Silently and imperceptibly, as we wake or sleep, we grow strong or we grow weak, and at last some crisis shows us what we have become."</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17862323392193749470noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513531733303572543.post-15038107715328115052012-11-16T21:38:00.000+00:002012-11-16T21:38:04.418+00:00Training Thursday: half marathon, week 9<br />
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I accidentally screwed myself over this week, running-wise at least. You see we tackled one of New Zealand's Great Walks, the Tongariro Alpine Crossing, and it was amazing. It was also incredibly and unbelievably tiring on the legs. I still feel like a leaden legged marrionette and it's been three days. On the plus side, I'm counting it as an endurance training session, as it was 18k of the toughest terrain I've ever tackled. We didn't even tackle Mount Doom.<br />
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I did manage to get a short run in the night before to stretch my legs after my long run and a short run in yesterday to do the same post walk. I'm conserving stregth for my longest of long runs this weekend. Fingers crossed howver hard it is, I now have a new threshold for 'challenging'.<br />
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Fri - 3 mile RnR<br />
Sat - 18k walk<br />
Sun - crippled<br />
Mon - crippled<br />
Tues - still crippled<br />
Wed - 4 mile RnR<br />
Thurs - 15k bike rideAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17862323392193749470noreply@blogger.com0