Sep 2008

Philippines. One L, two P's. I fly into Manila in a massive electrical storm so we have to circle Manila for about 30mins before we can land. It looks messy. I have spoken with Claire Noelle (Pierre's sister), so once we finally land, I jump in a cab to her home. The rain is easing off as the sun sets and the sky turns vibrant orange and mauve. Through the condensation in the cab I see hundreds of jeepneys crowding the streets, all chromed up and colourful. With religious icons pained on and people hanging off the back of them. The traffic is hideous, but quite fascinating. Jeepneys are left over from the Americans during the war, and are basically glorified land rovers. Sort of elongated and chromed and tasseled to the max. They're 'bling' landys. I remember Nicky and I driving Ed's landy to Stanley a few years ago. It had moss growing in the window frames and the steering was so bad you had to keep the wheel turned to the left to go straight. The taxi driver here has a cold and as we sit in the traffic he coughs, hacks and honks. We pass billboard upon billboard of advertisements ala American, all in English weirdly and a few flashing 'Jesus Loves You' signs. Then one advert for chicken hot dogs (reconstituted chicken hot dogs, nice). A smiling blond haired, blue eyed boy tucking in, and the slogan says: "Helps memory enhancement" ?? Does this mean that it enhances your existing memories. This could be good, I have a number of memories needing enhancement (technicolor?).

Although I have known Pierre since school, I have never really known Claire. She was a few years older then us, his older sister. She lives in big old mansion in Ortigas (with a pool). She has a very cool partner called Manu and a beautiful baby called Nina. They all welcome me into their home. I only have ten days in the Philippines so I have to get busy with seeing stuff. I book myself onto a bus up North for a few days to see the beautiful rice terraces for the weekend then back to Manila, when Ive booked myself onto a flight to Palawan.

I have a day or so to settle in and a delicious dinner out with some friends of Claire and Manu. I'm not entirely sure about Filipino food. Everything you order has sugar added to it. I'm dared to order the famous Halo Halo dessert. NOT nice. Don't even know what was in it...just googled it...http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Halo-halo , say no more.

Very sweetly (no pun intended) Claire has offered me the use of her driver. Domingo, who incidentally is training to be a priest. He takes me to the Vietnamese embassy to get a visa. He tries to convert me to Christianity whilst we drive. Again we sit in the most ridiculous traffic. Manila's not endearing itself to me. We eventually get there after doing the most amount of U-turns ever in a car. I head into the Embassy, but and stopped at the gate by the guard. He wont let me in until I give him my phone number? Are these correct diplomatic proceedings I wonder? 60 dollars (!) later I have a visa. But It will take a week for them to print it off, sign it, and stick it in my passport. We head home. Claire is cooking us yummy French food. By this I mean a yummy simple salad of boiled potatoes, french green beans, boiled egg and red onion. My bus to Banaue in the north leaves at 10pm that night, so after dinner I head to the Autobus station. The taxi drops me into the unknown. I'm the only tourist! Wow. Its a hot night and we wait for the bus. I'm totally on my own in the middle of Manila. I sit with my backpack, lovely and light because its emptied of all the extra crap I don't need (left at Claire's). There seems to be a karaoke bar waiting for the bus too. There are about ten massive boxes of karaoke equipment all being taken on the bus? I wonder how were all going to fit on? It takes and age for everything to be loaded. We all manage to sqeeze on. The bus is freezing. I had the foresight to bring a jumper. But I'm still cold. I don't really sleep, but I think it's so cold that my body sort of shuts down. I actually do sleep because I get woken up (5am)...the sun is seeping in though the dirty windows and musty curtains, most of which are drawn. The bus horn is honking loudly. Now they like a good old honk of the horn here, but this honking go's on for ages (about 20 mins). The horn seems to be broken, like in Little Miss Sunshine. I don't believe it. My mouth feels like Satan's bottom (red onions). I play my ipod again to try and drown out the noise. We arrive in Banaue and I'm grabbed by a guy as I leave the bus, Id called ahead to book into a guest house, and told them when I was arriving. Being the only foreigner I was easy to spot! I'm whisked off to the guest house by Javez on a tricycle (motorbike with side car). The guest house is very quaint and I have an attic room all to myself. Unfortunately the shower is broken, so I only have a cold tap; but I'm not fussed. Banaue is a small town surrounded by beautiful rice field terraces. They are the 8 wonder of the world, and quite staggering. I feel like I'm in the Alps somehow. I head to bed for a quick nap. Then Ive instructed Javez to take me an a three hour hike round the terraces. Beautiful.

Ive stupidly not brought enough money with me for the weekend. Banaue doesn't have a cash point, the next day I have to take a jeepney to Langawe which is about an hour away to get to a bank. I pile in with about 25 other people, bags of shopping, a few chickens, although they get relegated to the roof after the first stop. Along we bounce to Langawe. Find cashpoint, quick lunch of squid and rice (mmm) then back to Banaue. I fancy just sitting by the guest house and reading. Ive booked Javez to take me on another trek to Batad to see more terraces and things tomorrow. Javez is 24 and is the nephew of the lady who runs the guest house. We spend Sunday on a monster trek to Batad. Javez (who looks like and asian LLCool J) is rather tired because hes been out playing poker all night, and hasn't slept! I take the piss out of him! Ha ha, there is no way on gods earth I would be able to do the trek we're doing, on no sleep plus still boozed up. Sitting at a desk is one thing... We have to take a tricycle to start the trek (leaving at 6am). The is a big 'NO FEAR' sticker inside the sidecar which I where I sit. The sticker should read 'No Road' and 'No Suspension'. I feel like Ive been in a tumble drier. It's a great day, with incredible terraces thousands of years old, waterfalls, and we meet an 80 year old Filipino who chopped off Japanese heads in the war! Poor Javez starts to feel better after some lunch and I buy him a beer on route home. Back to the tricycle and jolted home. It now about 4pm so we have to watch for kids playing badminton, dogs with puppies, chickens, flip flops, babies and other trucks and bikes all in the non-road ahead that we bounce along. Domingo may not have converted me to Catholicism, but Ive hailed Mary a number of times on route home. My bus back to Manila leaves at 10pm again. Ive had a really nice time in Northern Luzon and although still not enamoured with Filipino food, the people are great.

Hair report: Really bad hat hair (I think), no mirror so dont care.

Manila = messy.
Too many eggs.
Too much sugar.
Drunk texting, Filipinos do it too.
The glow worms.
The incredible rainstorm with thunder and lightning.

Back to Manila on bus wearing all my clothes jumper and Northface jacket with hood up, eta...4am.

xxxx

Dearest diary,

After such a long time away, it's nice to have nearly a month of chilling with friends. I've spent three weeks in Oz with some brilliant people. Now I'm flying to Hong Kong to see Darrel. Darrel has been in HK for nearly a year now. Unfortunately he's away in Ibiza till Sunday (today is Wednesday). So I will have a few days in HK on my own, but in the luxury of his incredible house in Sai Kung (beautiful green hilly, by the sea, suburb in HK).
The flight from Melbourne is rather hazy, I manage to drink myself silly. Two bloody Marys then six mini bottles of wine. I'm drowning my sorrows. I have a twin seat all to myself so can happily pour my heart out, cry my eyes out, quaff my wine in relative seclusion. Opposite, on the other side of the isle, there is a Chinese man who intrigues me. So far he's buttered his salad, you know the little plastic pot of butter you get, well he scrapes it out and spreads it onto the salad? Then he mixes his beef stir fry with the apple and cinnamon rice pudding desert. My crying is briefly interrupted with chuckling. It's strange how these two emotions are so easily interchangeable. He sort of shovels the food into his mouth, and he also seems to be forever spitting into a funny plastic bag thing. When he's finished, he starts to pick his teeth loudly with the plastic fork, and I see a big bit of something hit his DVD screen monitor. I'm trying so hard not to laugh I'm crying, oh that's how I started. As a finale just when I thought he'd finished, he crumples up the metallic tray all the food has been served on, and tries to place it on the spare table next to him, unfortunately all the remnants of the food drip off the metal and into his lap. I bury myself into my sodden serviette. Thank god I wasn't sitting right next to him. I arrive in HK and sort of saunter through customs. Then once through I call Norma, Darrel's Filipino ama (maid), to ask for directions. I jump into a cab and head into town. Sai Kung is right on the other side of the city, in the burbs...I eventually arrive at the house after some mistakes and lots of misunderstandings the taxi driver. We find the house and wonderful Norma is waiting for me. She shows me round (wow wow wow) and then leaves. I collapse on the sofa drink another glass of white wine (open bottle in fridge). Then up to bed. It's so hot I strip and fall flat on the bed without the cover and wake up lying across the bed totally disorientated.

Sai Kung is a sleepy suburb of HK and in my view quite perfect. The view is stupendous. Darrel and Ross' house is about 5m from the sea. The water is twinkling blue, the trees luscious jungle green, and little white boats bob in the bay. Its about 35 degrees and the suns rays are like lasers. It's so beautiful and I'm so hungover I can't move from the sofa. Later in the afternoon I decide to try to walk into Sai Kung, to find the Internet. I walk in (very hot and sweaty), and cant find it anywhere, or a pink Maybelline mascara for that matter. Find some cool cafes though and order a yummy chicken noodle soup thing and green tea. Its all in Chinese! Don't understand a thing. I quite like this though...I equate being in a foreign land, a bit like my head sometimes. Quite often I feel everyone is speaking in a foreign language to me. I buy a few groceries and head back to the calm of the house for dinner and more TV (DVDs). The next day I hit HK. I have to take a bus to the MTR station up the road (20 mins) then take the MTR into Central (25 mins ish). The MTR is clean, fast and efficient. It takes me into another dimension.
Hong Kong is crazy. What a culture shock. I love it. I spend a fab day just wandering about and taking everything in. The same on Friday. But I call a friend of Yara (who I met in Melbourne). Her friend Yogi lives in HK and shes apparently warned him of my arrival. I call him from street noodle shop in Central under the escalator, on the off chance that he's about. He is! 40 mins later we're slurping vodka tonics in the Buddha Bar. Yogi is a local and keeps bumping into friends he knows. Its all very endearing and a lovely way to be shown HK. Eventually we stagger out of the bar to find more food. Then on the Lan Quai Fong (hideous ex pat street in Central, full of merchant wankers and other city folk, oh and us!) I'm way too drunk, but it's insisted that I try a flaming Absinthe. Why?? It melts the straw and nearly burns all my eyelashes off. Revolting. It's way past my bedtime. I wake up groggy and like Ive been hit by a bus. I decide never to drink ever again. I'm desperate for a camera, since mine is kaput. So we head to Mong Kok (favorite name in HK), to buy me a new camera. I always do good buys when hungover. Well apart from the stick on goblin ears, at the Secret Garden Festival, which I thought were a good buy, stuck them on my ears and then I forgot I had them on for the whole night and the following day. I get a camera. Without it Ive felt like my arms been missing. Its a Canon G9, and in still figuring out how to use it. Yogi is a real gentleman and spoils me rotten. I'm taken out for Dim Sum and then we meet up at Felix Bar at the top of the Peninsular Hotel to watch the dazzling light show in Hong Kong Harbour. The most expensive drink ever, but very worth it. We meet up on Sunday and he shows me how every Sunday all the Filipino maids gather in Central and make makeshift camps, with cardboard boxes and such like. Then they pique nique, do manicures, pedicures, cut hair, gamble, and listen to music. Some do karaoke. The Filipinos are natural singers, and love a bit of karaoke. It's like they are at an enormous festival, but in the center of town. They're all camped under banks and other big business buildings which are shut because of the Sabbath. Then at 1830 we have booked a ride on the Aqua Luna. Which is an old junk ship tarted up so its a bit like a floating Chinawhites. We sail around the harbour and watch the sun set and the light show start up. Luxe Guide is right, Hong Kong skyline kicks New York's butt. I head back to Sai Kung to meet Darrel!

Darrel and I spend a super week chilling. He's back at work but we meet up after and go for dinner. Ive met up with Ken who I met in New Zealand. We've had a great day just hanging out and eating! More Dim Sum and strange Chinese desserts and octopus balls. I drag him along to meet Darrel and we head out for some Thai. Darrel has invited Sarah, who is a sweetheart and drop dead gorgeous. Ive had to break the bad news to Darrel that I'm off the booze. Hes quite grateful. Usually us two out and about = trouble. Darrel and I spend a week of sobriety and its does us good. During our week we do a Kooks concert, I cook the worst soggy noodles ever and we weather a bloody typhoon! Typhoon 'Nuri' hits Hong Kong and everything stops. Darrel and I are neatly cocooned in his house so don't really get the full force. Initially it seems very calm, the calm before the storm. Then it strikes and the wind gets up to 70 mph, not easy smoking a fag in that. I give up. We officially get cabin fever after being holed up the whole day and watching about 50 episodes of Alias and Dexter. We are still sober, god sobers so boring. In the morning the wind has died down. But the wreckage is everywhere. Some of the boats in the bay have sunk and there is all sorts of debris everywhere. Darrel has booked a yoga instructor to visit us and do a class on the roof terrace. Very civilised. I take it easy because of my back. The storm seems to have disturbed dragonfly larvae. After the yoga we sit and chill watching dragonflies buzz above us as the sun goes down. We're heading into town to meet up with Ken, his girlfriend and her sister. On Sunday Ive said I'll help Darrel out doing some errands with him for work. Ive been back into work mode since being in HK and have sorted out my CV and asked around for work. HK is made of money, you can smell it. I'm taken to the swishest shopping mall Ive ever seen to check out cool shop interiors. Beautiful. We also visit Bernice, a lady I worked with for a while back in London and who lives with her boyfriend, a dog and three cats. We're invited over for a bbq. I hope to meet up with her again to discuss a possible venture. Ross, Darrel's boyf has been away in the UK with his parents. He arrives back on Monday and it's great to see him before I shoot off again. I cook us a better dinner (honestly I was starting to worry that I've forgotten how to cook). The next day I have a flight to Manila. I'm dreadfully sad to go. I pack up by bag again, its still saturated even though Ive sent more stuff home. I've treated myself to a cab again because of where we are in HK. I'm really sad to be leaving. I like HK a lot and I hope to be back soon. Darrel has been the most gracious host and has really looked after me. I miss him already. Next stop Manila.

Hair Report: very fucking frizzy.

Hong Kong on a budget? - Don't bother.
In Hong Kong on a budget? - Start crying.

'Wing On' garage.
The Escalator
Flying Pan breakfast 4 x 4 x 4 = four eggs, four bacons, four breads, four sausages etc...BIG (heart attack on a plate and I don't try it).
I go for a walk to the beach behind Darrels house. Chinese boy in wetsuit, goggles and floatation device.
I give up coffee, headache, OW... what the fuck???!
oneatatime.com
Pile Up - sexual slang term.
Alias - Sydney Bristow rocks.
Dim Sum and Chinese tea - perfect.

Imelda hold on, I'm on my way...

xxxx

I have a flight to Melbourne early in the morning. Lisa drops me at the airport. I hate goodbyes so bite my lip and disappear as quickly as possible. I don't want to think about leaving her in this foreign country, and her not being in London when I eventually get back there. The thought of London without her is just too much. I'm thinking about joining her in Australia for a while...

Ive never been to Melbourne, Conor is collecting me from the airport. Conor was at school with me and Ive known him for about 25 years. He was officially my first boyfriend, and I was taken to Abingdon fair by him when I was 13 years old, after he asked me in front of everyone, having saved a seat for me during morning assembly. We held hands, but never kissed. Hes now 6 foot 5 and a very successful business man. I'm whisked off straight away to have lunch with another old school friend Tamas. Both boys have emigrated to Melbourne. Tamas is married to Jo and has a baby called Zoe. I'm treated to some bay bugs (crayfish things). It's very humbling being back with these two boys from my childhood. They are very special to me. I spend a hilarious week with Conor. Some great dinners and great company. Soulfood cafe, incredible vegetarian. Gingerboy - fabulous Asian fusion see menu below. Meet some very nice friends of his, especially Yara. Very funny! We end up going out for dinner to a veggie place where you pay what you think your dinner is worth. I decide to cook dinner for some friends of Conor's, Mark and Caddie. Right at the last minute they can't get a babysitter. So I semi cook dinner at Conor's. Then pack it all up in Tupperware and head over to theirs to finish cooking there. Borscht beetroot soup with crusty bread, followed by organic beef fillet (bought from Tom the butcher) with a garlicky green salad, then chewy chocolate brownies to finish. Conor and I fall home merrily. Conor has a trip to Europe planned with weddings etc. And he's meeting up with his beloved, whom obviously he needs to impress. He needs some help shopping. My favorite hobby. We head to South Yarra and shop till we drop (drop into a bar for a fat glass of Australian shiraz, yum). As a thank you for my eye and my help Conor treats me to a bottle of expensive scent. Cant remember if I ever said? But the Birthday box of things mum sent me in Rio, which never arrived. I mourned the loss of my Helmut Lang perfume, which is irreplaceable. Finally turned up back in Brussels two months later! I think it went on it's very own adventure. But I digress, I have been without a scent till now. I spray myself at every possible occasion.

I'm so far behind in my blog that I'm just going to run through my notes quickly:

Melbourne and Sydney are like two sisters at a party. Sydney's the one you'd like to fuck, Melbourne the one you'd like to talk to.

Conor weeing on his neighbour accidentally over the balcony.

Conor is so cool (Conor's contribution to my notes).

She's got a great face for radio.

A schnick schnock of whoo wha (gram of coke).

Putain des Palaces - my new scent!

Literally, tremendous, indeed - all words which are banned whilst in Conor's company.

She's very striking, she's been struck a few times.

cheaters.com - hideous car smash American TV about partners being caught cheating.

Liam - the lovely architect, and lunch at the Porsche Garage in town.

The cinema night, 'Married Life' = no thanks!

The winery lunch, Conor lets me drive back.

I climb up that tower with cool views and a gold plated top.

Meeting Angie for the briefest girly chat ever in the history of chats. We get everything in, in 1.5 hours. And we didn't even know each other before.

Zoe in hospital - she was so poorly I hope she's much better now xxx

The revelation from home on my last night in Melbourne. Not good. And I break my camera.

Menu at Gingerboy:

Chili salt cuttlefish
Green papaya salad
Son in law eggs
Tempura oysters with pink nam pla
Silken tofu with black vinegar sauce
Lamb backstrap
Hot and sour salad with peanut sauce
King-fish lemon grass curry

Amazing! Delicious and worth a visit.

Loved Melbourne, I leave in a whirlwind of emotion bound for Hong Kong.

xxxxxx

I have a 4pm flight from Nadi to Brisbane, then on to Sydney. Lisa A will be waiting for me at Sydney. I'm uber excited. I get to the airport and go through security. I have a few shells which Ive bought, and am worried about having them confiscated. I check my main backpack into the hold and take my day pack with shells through security. The shells pop up on the x-ray and I have to open my bag. I large Fijian security man paws through my bag, he check out the shells, they're OK for me to take. Then he stops at my bits and bobs travel case. This is a small toilet bag filled with things like my head torch, my jewelery, my sewing kit, some pens, my mini vibrator...The security guard pulls out my mini purple vibrator. "whats this?", he asks dead pan. Is he being serious?, I hesitate..."its a torch" i say equally dead pan. Quite by chance the vibrator doesn't have any battery in it. So he cant test it. He looks at it more closely, and I try not to smirk. Finally he seems satisfied (weird irony) and he puts it back in the bag and tells me I'm free to go. I zip everything up, and head into duty free. Flight to Oz is pretty unremarkable. Land in Brisbane or Bris-vegas as it's affectionately known. Have to go through stringent Aussie security, luckily they let the shells through, plus vibrator. Have an hour to kill before connecting flight to Sydney. I sit with Ipod and people watch, I seem to be surrounded by overweight men in board shorts and thongs. Beer belly hell. Board flight for Sydney. Arrive Sydney. Walk through to collect bags. Thinking I won't see Lisa until I get my main backpack, but then, as I'm waiting to get on escalator to head down into baggage claim, I spot Lisa! We then re enact a scene from Mills and Boon. We spot each other across a crowded room, and I try to push my way down the busy escalator. We both have tears in our eyes. ITS SOOOO GOOD TO SEE HER! We collect my bag and I'm treated to a taxi back to Bondi. Lisa has an amazing flat just off Bondi Beach. It's a home from home, shes simply transposed her fab flat from London straight into the heart of suburban Sydney (actually via shipping the entire contents of her London flat down-under, no mean achievement). I have my very own room with big double bed and a luxi super clean bathroom next door. Heaven. We spend all night yakking, till Lisa, bleary eyed and monstrously overworked, hears her bed calling and we head off for much needed sleep.

Hanging out in Bondi is very much like I imagine Malibu beach to have been in the 50s. It's super cool, but not garish and in your face. It has an innocence and charm about it. We become, well I become a regular at Gusto coffee where I feed my growing caffeine addiction. Long blacks with splash or hot or cold milk depending. A yummy brunch at 'Paris a Go', of homemade granola, yogurt and honey. Washed down with a fresh juice. I'm charmed. Lisa has taken some time off work to entertain me. All I really want is quality time doing nothing imparticular, but sharing company with my best friend. We're old pros at this, so slip into the norm without hesitation, and its feels totally normal to be darting around Sydney as if it were a home from home. We visit the New South Wales Gallery and do a bit of culture. I have unfortunately missed Sydney's World Youth day by only a few days. But luckily there are still plenty of youths floating around, singing in circles with guitars and tambourines. World Youth Day should actually have been called World Christian Youth Day. Sydney has just seen over 200000 youths from over the globe share what amounts to a big jamboree with the Pope headlining. Scary. Or as Ken from Hong Kong put it, 'World Youth Day, what a shit show!'. The few who still remain are easy to spot with their red, orange and yellow rucksacks.

My Birthday way back in April, still concerns Lisa. So in order to please her I am taken for a very expensive new hair cut. Such a chore! I leave the dressers with a brand new barnet, all coiffed and shapely (the first time in 7 months). Lisa has been lucky to receive the Haviannas I picked up for her in Sao Paulo. OK they're used, because mine got lost in Colombia, I tell her they're 'worn in'. Anna, Lisa's sister is also in Sydney, so we spend spend a nice Sunday walking over to Bronte for lunch. We spot a pod of dolphins frolicking in the bay. We also meet up with Kirsten, Claudine's very lovey friend from Uni. We hang out over at hers and eat the most incredible cakes from patisserie near her house. Architecture in the form of a cake. Although we're not being particularly lucky with the weather we decide to hire a car and drive to the Blue mountains. We haven't hired a car since Ibiza, back in the 20th Century (actually I think it was 2001, poetic licence). We have great day out. Lunch of fish and chips at a restaurant which hasn't changed since the 50's and has signed photos of Scott and Charlene on the wall, and possibly Rolf Harris (not confirmed). Then a brisk walk in to the canyons of the Blue Mountains to a beautiful waterfall. We have to run back because we realise that the parking ticket only gave us a couple of hours. We make it back without a ticket and head back into town for refreshment. We find a cosy cafe which seems to be run by a religious cult. Everyone is in Birkenstocks with cheese board tunics on, head scarfs and fat plaits. We discuss the merits of living in the cult having read about then on literature stuck outside the ladies loo, at the back. It all sounds quite good, until the bit about worshipping the chosen one and believing in 'Our Saviour'. We head back into town for the cinema and to watch The Dark Knight. Gregg has got us tickets and a big bag of sour worms. We settle in to watch. We have the car for 4 days so head up to the Northern Beaches for the day and then back for a walk in the Mountains. Leaving Sydney with the sun shining we head off back towards the mountains and then into the rain. We end up going on what amounts to 'a nice drive' ... We feel rather old and silly. But we both feel like that, so its OK and we laugh about it! We're in the middle of no where in the Australian outback and Lisa is navigating with Google maps on her new i-phone. I love our adventure. Ive missed Lisa so much since being away. A perfect week and a bit, with a perfect hostess.

The bliss of chilling out in a wonderful flat with all the mod cons you could desire, including wireless Power Book and Lisa's yoga DVD, is so appreciated.

Hair report: Louise Brooks

Delicious dinners at: North Bondi Italian, The Rum Diaries, Bills.
Lots of nice treats from Lisa (she knows how to treat a girl!)
Wardrobe envy back in force - Esther control yourself.
Buy some new bras from Pluto's of Bondi.
Visit another Chiropractor and am told I have an inflamed disc, nearly decide to come home.
Buy attractive back-brace.
Meet up with Olly, from Brazil (last seen at trance party in Trancoso), and have a boogie at 'Yu' in Kings Cross.
Lush balcony at Lisa's.
The light sabre application for the i-phone.
New neon pink Havaiannas.

LISA THANK YOU, GREGG THANK YOU! Mi casa et tu casa, basta.

Love you very much xxxx

ps Could I live in a place like this? xxxx

Whistle stop Fiji.

Get to Christchurch airport and queue to check in for my flight. They can't find me on the system? I have changed this flight, or at least my travel agent in the UK has apparently changed this fight. What's going on? I move out the way to let other travelers check in. I AM flying to Fiji today, I don't care what it takes. I'm sent off to find the Internet, to find the email from the travel agent confirming the change. Can't print it off, so to have to email it to Virgin Pacific woman at information desk. Complete polava, and lucky that I left two hours for check in. Find coin operated Internet, stick in my only 2 dollar coin, and nothing happens. Fuck! Murphy's law again. Shake machine vigorously, kick it, look around for any help, no one. Double fuck! Resort to going to cafe to buy a water to get more change. Try another machine. It works, I find email and send it off. Please let cyberspace be prompt?! I already have all the reference numbers etc, so not really sure how this is going to help the situation. They seem to want proof that changed the original flight. Back at the check in desk I stand and wait anxiously. I watch everyone else checking in seamlessly. Everyone is in flip flops and summer gear. There are some brilliant mullets in the line, and parrot earrings, I feel Fiji might be the Costa del Sol for Kiwis. My email has got through. Finally I'm found somewhere in the system. Thank god. I run though to departures, I have no time for window shopping in duty free. At the gate an air hostess slips my boarding pass into the machine and it is eaten up, what now, another problem? The machine is taken apart, and the pass dislodged. I board the plane.

The plane lands in Fiji and we disembark onto the melting tarmac. It's baking. It feels like walking into Selfridges on a freezing winters day, when the hot air heaters hit you. I clear customs and am greeted by lovely smiling Fijian faces, grass skirts and flowers everywhere. Not really sure where to go, but I observe some other backpackers and head towards them. Safety in numbers. They are congregating around a bench at the entrance. They are all heading to Smugglers Cove, it sounds like something from Moonfleet, but I'm game, so off we head (plus we share a cab obviously). It is actually a very nice resort. Very new and a bit of semi luxury. It has a nice bar and restaurant and faces the bay in Nadi, pronounced Nan-di. I stay in the 30 person dorm they have. Yes 30 person! It's neatly split into sections of two bunks, ie 4 persons with 4 lockers. I know I can generally sleep anywhere so I don't really care. I hang with the crowd from the airport over some drinks and a bite to eat. There are a couple of guys going on to South America after this, they're very nice and I resolve to give them my doorstop Footprint guide, which I stupidly dragged around NZ. It takes up so much space in my now saturated luggage. Especially now that Ive bought the Count of Monte Cristo to read. I'm given a book about Tibet in return. Fair swap. I head to bed. Hum the dorm is quite quiet. Its about 11pm. I get about an hours of sleep when an English couple on the opposite side of the dorm (but right opposite me), crash in and make more noise than you would think possible. They wake everyone up. They're not even going to bed, they've just come in to change clothes. This goes on for the next four hours, in out, in out, quite unbelievable. I don't think I have ever ever wanted to kill, but these two c**ts are something else. I wake up groggy and moody, but then remember where I am! I'm in bloody Fiji!. The night before I have met Rashid from Didsbury in Yorkshire. He's very sweet. He's very calm, and speaks with the most beautiful soft Yorkshire northern accent. He holds himself beautifully to. We discovered that were both in Fiji for 10 days, so without even really discussing the ins and outs we subconsciously decided to travel together. I'm looking forward to hanging out with him. We're heading out of Nadi on the Bula pass up to the top of the Yasawas and then island hopping back to Nadi. The Bula ('welcome' in Fijian) pass means we have unlimited access to the Yasawa flyer, a bright yellow catamaran which glides between all the islands. The pass is valid for a week. We decide to spend the first night on Bounty Island before heading all the way to the top. Bounty Island is famous for Celebrity Love Island, and oh how I enjoy cavorting round like Rebbecca Loos. But actually it's very nice. I CHILL OUT, but by warming up!. Not that I hadn't in NZ but I think I was continuously cold there, and it got to me. I'm now blissfully warm, and have beach, sea and sun. Perfect. Rashid and I sort of do our own thing, which is great. I get stuck in to Dumas and Rashid disappears off to take what amounts to about 5000 photos. My kinda guy. One of the first phrases we hear is 'Fiji time', essentially this means take off your watch and hide in rucksack for the duration of your stay. Everything is done in Fiji time, get used to it! Tomorrow morning we island hop, we've booked into the different hostels, resorts along the way. There isn't really much choice where you stay on the islands, because they're so small. Food is included. We head to dinner on out first night and the food is pretty good, then we're entertained by the Island crew singing and dancing to native Fijian music. They're all so talented. Its brilliant because its 'the cook, the gardener, plus the woman from behind reception all singing and dancing and I love it. Then to bed in our much quieter 8 person dorm. Only negative on Bounty was my hot (boiling hot) shower, have to crouch way down, to rinse shampoo etc off me. On day two, the boat collects us in the morning and whisks us all the way to Nacula, right at the top. We're collected off the Yasawa flyer by a small tender which then takes us to the beach and the resort. The water is aquamarine blue and clear as crystal. It's quite spectacular. Rashid and I just grin at each other. Our room, sorry thatched hut, is very basic but we have it to ourselves. It's very windy, so the beach isn't as appealing instead we relax in hammocks near our hut. At dinner we meet the other guests, there are only 9 of us altogether. We meet a couple from Colorado who are on their honeymoon. Dinner arrives and it's positively the worst food I've ever had. Really crap. Edible I suppose, but barely. There isn't really anything to do after dinner, no bar as such, so Rashid and I head off to our hut. Just before were tucked up, the most enormous cockroach runs over my bed. It is so big that I could see the hairs on its legs. I try to put in in a plastic bag, but am so scared that I then drop the bag and it runs free. It's still in the room somewhere, as I tuck the mossie net under the mattress so nothing can get me. Rashid and I talk life, love, work, money, hopes and desires. Then all of a sudden we are plunged into darkness, the lights go off. No power after 10pm! Lucky we we're in bed. I dig out my head torch in case of emergency. We fall asleep. Breakfast is a miserable affair of musty stale cereal and warm milk? It's powdered milk. Washed down with nescafe. I feel a bit sorry for the honeymooner's. Who have two weeks here. After breakfast we head on a Village tour. We are taken by a very stoned man. Not really sure what he's high on, possibly Kava (narcotic Fijian root drink). It's a very poor village. Made up of mostly reed huts and some whats appears to be concrete constructions. There are dirty children, and women busy doing chores. The men I see seem to be sitting around, not really doing much. But everyone waves and smiles at us. Then we get to the chiefs hut, which is actually like the town hall. Unfortunately the chief is away, so we meet his son. He's only 6 years and very shy. We sit on the floor of the hut on reed matting, like tatami mats in Japan. Rashid and I sit for about 15 minutes with a 6 year old who doesn't speak, and a fucked guide who's also silent. There is a massive carved whale bone attached to a beam, I sit and muldoon. We head back and I buy some beautiful shells from a girl on the way back. Rashid and I are glad of the boat collecting us before lunch (another culinary delight), and heading to the next island. Our next venue is Naviti. The beach here is beautiful and less windy than before. We spend a glorious afternoon sunbathing and reading. We watch a beautiful sunset and then head to the main hut for tea. Just when we thought the food couldn't get any worse, it does. A chicken stew which I nearly break my tooth on, because it's bone and gristle. The food on Bounty Island was simple but fresh and tasty, there is just no excuse for serving crap food. Over dinner we meet the fellow packers. A crazy American girl with corn row plaited hair, she's loud and obnoxious. Beware Caucasians with corn rows. We head to bed. Breakfast is something deep fried and stale corn flakes again. mmm. Manta Ray island is next. Although we don't get to see any manta rays. Everything is fine. Until I head to bed for the night in the large dorm room. The loud couple from my first night in Fiji are again in my bit of the dorm. You cant be serious! They are just as noisy and thoughtless as before. I'm sorry but I believe that this is bad up-bringing. They simply have no manners. I wake up in the morning and am as loud as possible. I turn on the light, and turn off the fan, I open the window and I bang around. Then to the beach for a leisurely chill. Still no manta rays sadly, but some great snorkeling. Plus we watch a dog go fishing. We sit in some hammock chairs reading for a while, until there's a massive cracking noise and Rashid's chair breaks and he hits the floor with a bump. Laughing at the misfortune of others, priceless. The boat collects us again and its off down the coast to Octopus resort. Our fav spot. This place is an oasis of calm. More expensive, but so worth it. Beautiful idyllic beach, lagoon for snorkeling. Lovely super clean dorm with fresh chambray cotton sheets. Amazing food (I mean amazing), a lovely pool and just a delight after the few days of roughing it. Rashid and I are happy as pigs in shit. I have to say also that Fijians are great. So friendly and hospitable. At Octopus we're given a fire show and a dancing show. The music and energy are infectious. More snorkeling and sunbathing in the morning. Next to Waya Lai Lai Eco resort. Amazing sea view dorm. We meet some great people here and gets wasted on Kava (have to try some, sort of numb mouth speed effect), beer and vodka. A dazzling show is put on, with lots of dancing by us included. I note Fijians seem to have large feet with fallen arches and toes like chipolatas. The next day is a Sunday so we see a typical church gathering. Gospel singing and preaching. As per usual, Esther sitting down for nearly 2 hours in a warm place listening to Church readings = 40 winks. I'm gently nudged by a girl when we have to contribute and sing an out of tune Amazing Grace to the congregation.

Then back to Bounty Island, where we spend the last few days. It's so nice to be back here. Ive enjoyed seeing as much of the Islands as possible, the islands have all been uniquely beautiful and different. I've enjoyed them all. It hasn't been at all busy people wise, so it's been nice to be so remote and ace to travel with Rashid.

Hair Report: frazzled, Dicky Davis.

Fiji time - how does anything ever get done??!
Bula Bula - Fijians are warm and friendly and so welcoming.
Food - The very good, the bad, the ugly.
Liquid crystal sea.
The computer says no woman.
The two English twats.
The massive conga dancing, Rashid = no where to be seen.
The rather disappointing Hindu temple in Nadi.
The hottest day ever.
Dodgy looking ice cream, surprisingly good.
Excellent curry in Nadi (mini India)
16 bed dorm for the two of us (I have to run over all the beds, and film it).

In next chapter:

Esther heads to Sydney via Bris-vegas to meet up with long suffering best friend Lisa! xxx

There are a number of options with regard to travelling round New Zealand. Travelling on my own rules out getting a car or camper van (I love the Wicked ones!). Also it's winter, so a camper van is probably a bit chilly. There are then loads of bus tours you can go on. They offer a broad range of itineraries, which cover most peoples needs. I have heard various comments on the different tour operators. The Kiwi Experience: beer, beer, young, dumb, full of cum. Hum?... possibly? or The Magic Bus: wine drinking, not so young, wiser, easy going crowd humm?, nearly persuaded. However because I'm meeting up with various friends along the way, I opt for an Intercity bus pass. I have bought 'hours', I just call them up on a free phone number, give them my password and book the next leg of my journey. The hours are then just subtracted from the pass. In typical NZ fashion, its super efficient, the information easy to get, the people all super friendly: New Zealand = Travelling for Idiots!

The Interisland ferry which connects the North Island with the South Island is also part of my Intercity bus pass. It's eight in the morning. Sally has dropped me at the port and I embark onto the vessel. It reminds me of a cross channel ferry. I find myself a single seat by a window, grab a coffee and a muffin, and settle in for the crossing. We glide out of Wellington harbour and hopefully away from the rain. There is a big flat screen TV at one end of the lounge I'm sitting in. The TV comes on showing 'Good Morning'! Brendon and the team all on TV. I chuckle to myself, and remember again that I've lost my phone, drat.

The weather does in fact brighten as we near The South Island. The sea sparkles deep blue and the vegetation is lush and green. I head to the sun deck and soak in some rays, I've missed the sun. We even spot a pod of dolphins playing in the deep blue water. Picton is a small port in the north of the South Island. Apparently it was nearly made into the capital, but Wellington won the honour instead. Picton is tiny and very sleepy, I cant see how it could ever be a capital city. I love how proud New Zealanders are of their home towns. I walk past a hostel almost immediately called: The Villa, and book in. It has a hot tub and free apple crumble with ice-cream after dinner. I unload my stuff and go for a walk. I'm only here for a night, then off the Nelson tomorrow. Pre crumble I have a soak in the tub, there are 25 rubber ducks to play with. There is no central heating anywhere in NZ?? This is very strange, it seems its a legacy left over from the Victorians. I tuck myself in and hope I won freeze to death. I get up bright and early, and after a stupid shower which sprays water over the top of the curtain (I don't notice so soak my jeans and underwear), I get a lift to the bus heading to Nelson.
The weather is so much better. Its still a bit drizzly, but as soon as the sun is out you know about it. The sun is scorchio. No ozone layer. We arrive in Nelson and I find a hostel by the park. It is brand new and very smart. Then I have to head off to find the Police Station, to report my mobile phone loss. The police women is so helpful, that I wish I had other problems I could discuss with her. I now have a crime reference number. Although technically, losing ones phone when inebriated can hardly be construed a crime, more like asking for it. Back at the hostel I meet Ken. Ken is American from Queens in NYC. But he now lives in Hong Kong with his girlfriend. I eye up all his travelling items; his Victorinox bag, his Apple charger (he has his laptop, I WANT/MISS MINE), his neat pile of Liberty-esque print shorts and t-shirts. I like Ken, before I've even met him properly. I head off the next morning to do a trek in the Able Tasman national park. It is the only real trek I get to do whilst in NZ because the weather is so changeable, Tongariro crossing gets knocked on the head because of snow. BUT Able Tasman is more beautiful than words. I spend an amazing day with Sarah from England and Angela from Germany. It pours with rain for a bit, but we have our waterproofs, and just get on with it. I notice that one foot is wet in my shoe. There seems to be a hole in the sole, bugger. My Merrel trainers whch have done me proud, have a hole. Nothing I hope some superglue wont fix. We walk all day and end up in a weird sort of hippy commune art gallery/cafe. A deserved hot chocolate with marshmallows. I am damp and soggy, so glad of hot power shower (sans uber curtain spray) and snugly room at the hostel on my return. Ken and I then venture out for some Thai. He's been mountain biking, so we exchange notes. Back at the hostel we meet Peter, who has moved into our room. He's an American from Wisconsin. We all get into our various bunk beds and slowly drift off to sleep discussing relationships, falling in love with best friends, marriage, all sorts of stuff. Its nice to speak with two guys about it all, they have just as many worries and confusion surrounding these matters. I fall asleep, with them chatting like girls into the night. I have another early bus in the morning taking me to Christchurch to meet Charlotte. Lisa J's friend whom I also met in Argentina.

The bus to Christchurch will take seven hours. We drive back through the vineyards of Marlborough, then through Kaikoura, where we stop for lunch. This is whale watching paradise, but I can't stay, so will have to come back. New Zealand is achingly beautiful. Cobalt blue skies, emerald blue green seas, slate gray volcanic sand, tufts of Ed's blond hair (sea grasses) blowing in the wind. Seals sleep on smooth grey rocks in the sun, all the way along the coast. Snow capped peaks, washer board batches, bleached drift-wood and little fluffy clouds. I think the sheep look like little fluffy clouds too. Charlotte meets me from the bus in Christchurch. It is so cool to see her! I'm loving meeting up with travelling friends. She has a car, so we pack up and head towards Lake Tekapo, where we'll be staying with some family friends of Charlotte (the Kerrs). As the evening draws in, it gets colder and threatens to snow. Luckily we make it to the lake unhindered. A delicious home cooked dinner, plenty of chilled wine, and sweet nibbles awaits us. After dinner we star-gaze with a coffee. The night is clear and the stars are brilliant. I'm shown the southern cross and Venus. The Kerrs are super hosts and Charlotte and I finally trundle off to bed with full tummies, completely content. We have a big double bed with a mountainous feather duvet. I fall asleep almost instantly. I am awoken very early with the window behind the bed, rattling in the wind. I stuff a sock in it, and go back to sleep. When we do eventually arise, the weather outside has changed. The first flakes os snow are falling. It is freezing and we have a long drive over the Lindus pass ahead of us. After a fry up breakfast, we hit the road. It is also my first view of Lake Tekapo. A glacial lake with water this incredible turquoise icy blue colour, milky with sediment. As we near the Lindus pass, we are told that we may need chains. Its been snowing for a while, but Charlotte and I are determined to get over the pass without chains. We make it, passing cars on the side of the road who are putting theirs on (you so didn' t need them). We arrive in Wanaka, at Charlotte's friend Bernie's. A weekend at Bernie's!!

It is Friday night and because we're tired, we stay in and watch a DVD. I cook us a salmon steak each, which Charlotte and I picked up at a salmon farm on route. I check my email and establish that Sally has my phone! Weirdly its been handed into the bar I lost it in, a week later? I knew I would see it again, but it's a mystery where its been for a week. Charlotte arranges accommodation at the Heritage in Queenstown. We have a luxury villa for six awaiting us. On Saturday afternoon a gaggle of girls, five of us head to Queensown. Its been snowing loads so all the Winery's we attempt to lunch at, are closed. We arrive in Queenstown ravenous. I'm taken straight to Ferg Burger. An institution in Queenstown. Humongous burgers with all the trimmings. We then check in to the Heritage. We have a whole self contained villa to ourselves. It is beautiful and I feels like we're in a boutique hotel. Electric blankets (wheres the Teas made?), mock log burning gas fire, heated bathroom floors, the lot. I head straight to the bathroom and luxuriate in a deep bath. We all get dolled up and head out to watch Opshop. Meet the band, very drunk, Charlotte and I get kicked out of a bar, we break in through the back door, I snog some random guy (photos of him prove I was wearing BEER goggles), another Ferg burger and home aka... brilliant night!

We have to check out by 10 in the morning, so after I've stolen all the free toiletries (I ask the girls if I can), we head back to Wanaka. Charlotte has to leave, she's moving to London! So hopefully I'll see her there. I need to stay till Tuesday to await my couriered phone from Wellington. I have to be at home to receive the mobile phone, so I sit at Bernie's twiddling my thumbs. It arrives! I have my phone back, miracle. I have all afternoon now with nothing planned. So I decide to do a sky dive. Two hours later Im at 15000 feet jumping out of a plane. As soon as I hit the ground I wish I could do it all over again. What a treat. The free fall was for a full 60 seconds. I scream the whole way. So much fun! My bus back to Queenstown doesn't leave till Tuesday eve. So I go snowboarding at Cardrona with two of Bernie's friends in the day. Perfect weather and loads of snow. NZ does snow very well. There isn't the drop or the scope of pistes in Europe, but the snow is lovely and I spend a great day cruising about. Bye to Bernie and back to Queenie. Both Wanaka and Queenstown are quite touristy, but done so well. Great restaurants, bars and shopping. Both on beautiful lakes. There are so many things to do, you could spend weeks here doing something different everyday. I only really want to snowboard, so for the next two days I do. NZ snowboarders are about the coolest Ive ever seen. So many nice outfits. I'm peeved to be in my hotch-potch of Sarah's waterproof trousers over my trekking trousers, my Northface waterproof and my hired board and boots. I miss my gear.

The next day I get my final NZ bus back to Christchurch (it takes all day), I have one day and night before I fly to Fiji. I have loved NZ hanging with some great people, but I look forward to some HEAT, sea and sun.

Hair report: hat hair

After toilet paper drought in South America, I'm back to wrapping the loo roll round my hand.
Salmon sashimi lunch, so fresh.
Richard (40 something) doing the Kiwi Experience!?
The medical student who wrote her whole thesis spelling the word muscle, 'mussel'!
The unscheduled stop by the bus driver who wanted to buy swedes, which had experienced the first frost. A 20 minute detour. Bless him.
NZ obsession with massive fish sculptures.
Eat fantastic Japanese in Christchurch.

xxx