Red wine with every meal and absinthe after dinner.

There's no fighting. And no talking. There's no writing. I'm sleepwalking.

I dreamed a nightmare

And he was there,
but so was he.

...

I'm terrified of caring.
I'm terrified of letting people in.
I'm terrified of emotion.






Now I've said it, now you know.

Excess.

There's apart of me that thinks the root of most of humans problems is the inability to maintain, or even find, a medium between not caring and over caring. Couldn't most conflict and distress in the world be linked back to someone at some point either not caring enough or caring far too much? War in the Middle East: the Taliban hate Westerners, we get it, you care too much. Suicide: the person cared too much for something or someone at some point and that someone or something probably didn't care back. Global Financial Crisis: the world has always cared too much about money; theres not much more to say than that. Maybe if we didn't care so much we wouldn't screw it up so much. Divorce: could go either way, the state of excessively caring for another human, "love", can drive one to do many horrible things.

If you're in love then you care too much. Far too much. Its humanities original downfall, greatest sin and strongest instinct. If you care too much you're going to lose your mind if not anything else. I personally swing from not caring enough to caring excessively about twenty five times a day. I don't know if I could ever consistantly care about anyone.

Not that I care.

Ha.

I got really slack about posting my travel journal.

Will probably just not unless I get a sudden urge in the future.

Life got in the way.

Life seems but a quick succession of busy nothings.

DAY 9 - London to Bath

After saying goodbye to the Russian ladies at the Radnor we dragged our luggage down to Paddington Station. We got there fairly early and spent some time drinking coffees and buying things from the Body Shop and Boots Pharmacy. Then we got the train to Bath. The trip seemed very quick to me. Then we got a cab to our hotel on Sydney Road. It's SO beautiful. A 200 year old mansion overlooking a park and impressive cathedral. They filmed Jane Austen's "Persuasion" in the very room we're staying in and you can see why. The owners are lovely too. A very British gentleman, Julian, and his Austrian wife by a foreign name I cannot recall. We walked around the town of Bath and I saw that Babyshambles was playing that very night in the town hall! Obviously it was too late to get tickets or anything like that but just knowing that Pete Doherty was in the same little village as I was right then and there made my heart flutter a little. We went to the fashion museum and then came back to the hotel and I read Margaret Atwoods "Blind Assassin" for the rest of the night and finally finished it. Things finally got interesting towards the end, I think my expectations were too high.

This is your holy grail and you are the priest.

DAY 8 - London

Today we went to the Spitterfield Martets near Liverpool St Station. They were better than I expected and I ended up getting two dresses that I'm in love with and an owl teeshirt (the teeshirt turned out to be something fairly ridiculous like $40 but the two boys that owned the stall were adorable and good salesman. And I'm a sucker for cute boys and then you add on English and it just gets way out of hand). In the second market area we went to, Upmarket, I nearly bought a polaroid camera but then decided against it seeing as they had no film for it left and I'm not the type to lug around a filmless camera. We looked around a bit longer then realised we needed more cash so we went to the cash machine down the road and waited in this huge line for at least 15 minutes in the cold. The only thing that kept me amused were three very colourful characters standing behind us. A trendy East-ender young man with a full blonde beard, bright green pointy alligator shoes and the habit of talking non-stop. A much quieter young man, dressed in all black, with kind eyes and a soft voice. And a very pregnant blonde with bright blue eyes and a cream and orange outfit. I found myself laughing aloud at some of the things they were saying.

Eg.
Trendy East-ender: I went underwear shopping the other day and I found it so so exciting.
Pregnant woman: You find yourself half naked exciting? Lucky you.
Trendy East-ender: No, like, its exciting knowing you're spending all this money on kit that you don't get to show off. It's like secret treasure.
Pregant woman: (laughs).
Trendy East-ender: I love a good pair of knickerbockers. Teddy's has fucking good long-johns.
Pregant woman: Well I know what to get you for Christmas.
Quiet kind eyes: That reminds me...I need to go jam jar shopping.
Trendy East-ender: Thats the most ridiculous sentence I've ever heard.
Quiet kind eyes: For Christmas presents I mean.
Pregnant woman: You going to tell him? He's gonna tell you. He told me. If he tells you, you're safe.
Trendy East-ender: What?
Preganant woman: Safe from receiving this lovely gift idea. I literally sighed of relief when he told me.
Quiet kind eyes: Picked brussel sprouts. I'm going to pickle brussel sprouts as gifts. I think it's festive.
Trendy East-ender: Thank God you told me.
Quiet kind eyes: They're actually quite lovely.
Trendy East-ender: Yeah...this one time I went to this place and they served pickled cherries and fruits with the salt beef. Like fruit in mustard. It was incredible...
Pregnant woman: Too drunk to taste it, weren't ya?
Trendy East-ender: Yeah...how bright your eyes are today!
Pregant woman: It's cos of this baby, or cos I haven't been drinking five pints a day for the past 7 months.


It was quite amusing. Then we went back to the hotel and packed our bags to leave London.

I will wander the globe til this feelings gone.

DAY 7 - London

First thing this morning we went back to Primark. I want to marry that store. I controlled myself fairly well again though. I got a pair of jeans, sailor dress and a sparkly black beret. Then we walked down Regents Street and discovered a store called Liberty. A beautiful deparment store that is all kind of Luella Bartley style (well they do stock her). We wanted to go to Marshmallow Mountain Vintage but it was closed (seemed strange for late morning on a Saturday). Then we walked to Piccadilly Circus and got the train to Embankment. There we walked along the Thames eating perfect apples and stopped at Somerset House to see a fashion photography exhibition. It had photos from London in the 50s/60s as well as portraits of icons such as The Beatles. I was exceptionally tired today and the vast amount of walking was really getting to me. We crossed the Thames and went to the Borough Markets where we bought all these crazy gourmet olives and artichokes and things. After pushing our way through crowds for a while longer we got takeaway hot spiced wine and headed towards the Tate Modern gallery.

By this time I was completely worn out, everything was getting to me. We spent only a short time in the Tate because we walked through a few gallery rooms of which 90% of the artworks were rubbish and so we decided it wasn't worth the effort. We stopped to get post stamps at the gift shop in the St Pauls Cathedral and then went back to the hotel.

We watched TV for a bit and then went down to the Sainsbury at Paddington Station to get some food. I always seem to have copious amounts of change on me and in England it seems only worse thanks to the fact they have silly coins like pennys and two pence. While in Oxford street in the morning we thought it'd be a good idea to empty my wallet for a homeless person. We had spotted one on a laneway but he disappeared before I had the chance. With a pile of pennys and two pence and other coins in hand, I walked up Oxford Street. In my mind I had a vision of pouring the coins in bulk into a needy persons hand. Used to receiving the odd coin from one in fifty passes-by, I would make his day by emptying the contents of my wallet, and then we'd smile at eachother and we'd both walk away feeling better about the world.

Alas, no homeless people appeared. But soon enough we came across a blind violinest busking and I toppled my coins into his open violin case. He couldn't see me, we couldn't exchange smiles in a moment of basic human understanding. But I could see that he heard the click-clacking of metal on metal and it made me smile to know that maybe for a few minutes he'd feel appreciated.

Anyway, point is, that night on the way to Paddington Station I saw a man in a wheelchair asking for money. He was sitting in the cold, with a blanket over his remaining leg, and his head was lowered as crowds of people passed him without noticing. As I waited to cross the road I watched him and wished I had my wallet with me; to reach out to him and let him know that someone cared to notice him. But I didn't. And as I stood there watching him I felt a wave of sick shame come over me. I felt so deeply ashamed standing there in clothes I had just bought on Oxford Street, on my way to buy food that I wasn't even hungry for. I felt ashamed that I had spent the day in art galleries and gourmet markets but had ungratefully felt sooky because I was tired of walking in the cold. I felt sick at myself, and at humanity.

I want to lay here forever in the cold.

DAY 6 - London

We started today by walking all the way through Hyde Park over to the other side. It's got to be the most beautiful park in the world. I could never get sick of walking around there. Then we kept walking to the Victoria Albert Museum and spent hours looking at historic fashion pieces, photographs and jewellery. Then we crossed over to the Natural History Museum which was in an astonishing building with a glittering gold merry-go-round out the front. The best part of the Natural History Museum was the Wildlife Photography of The Year exhibition. It was full of completely amazing photographs of wildlife and nature. We fell in love with so many of the images so we bought a bunch of the postcard prints. The entire day (which feels like it ends at 4pm since by then its dark as midnight) was taken up in the museums and art galleries.

Off with her head.

DAY 5 - London

After some delay, thanks to clueless bus drivers, we got the Big Bus from Marble Arch to the Tower of London. The Tower is completely incredible. It's so historically significant while being architecturally magnificant. Walking up the same cobblestone pathway that Anne Boleyn did to her execution was extremely eerie and really struck a chord with me. As we stood at the spot of the execution stage I couldn't get her off my mind. I just felt a rush of sympathy for her that couldn't be ignored. We went into the chapel where she, and others, were buried. It was indescribable. Then to the crown jewels. Oh how I would've loved to rob that joint. I'd never seen anything so opulent. There's something so teasing and cruel about putting the biggest diamond in the world right there with only a glass case between you and it. So painful. Then we went all around the other towers in the fortress and the day faded away within the cold stoned grounds. That night we drank tea, ate blackberries and watched Eastenders. What of it?!

You might laugh, you might frown. Walkin' round London town.

DAY 4 - London

First thing this morning we bought tickets to the Big Bus Company's tour around London. We waited for a long time in the frosty morning air but eventually it pulled up and we took our seats; grateful for the heating and eager to see the city. We soon moved to the open top floor of the bus. In the open freezing breeze the bus swerved around the congested narrow city lanes. We drove past all the major sights. I'm not sure if up until that point I'd ever been that cold; but it's hard to care when you're glancing up at the Tower Bridge. After a lengthy and astonishing journey we hopped off at Buckingham Palace. In my mind it was a boisterous presence of towering grandeur but in reality it was mostly pavement, gates and crowds (maybe my chattering teeth were pulling my vision downwards). The Changing of the Guards was beginning but we were overwhelmed by the cold and generally disinterested in the event so we rushed up Buckingham Palace Road searching for a warm cafe. Eventually we found one and defrosted. Then we got a train from Victoria Station and bravely made our way back to the hustle and bustle of Oxford Street. I bought a pair of boots from Topshop that I fell completely in love with. Then we stopped by Tracey Perkins and I got a striped dress. After a stop at an English pub I spent the night watching Eastenders and Coronation Street. Missing those shows already...

And all the cemeteries in London, I see God come in my garden.

DAY 3 - London

We got up at 7am (still dark) to get travel cards from Paddington Station. It's such a huge bustling transit centre; I can't imagine Paddington Bear waddling around the currents of busy people. Then we walked through Hyde Park where I saw squirrels for the first time! They're so cute, leaping through the grass. They're not shy at all and came right up to us.

Then we walked to Oxford Street which is a shopping strip a mile and a half long. Wow. First shop we walked into, Primark, nearly sent me into cardiac arrest. Sequinned blazers, high-waisted ruffly skirts, colourful stockings. All falling under the 10 pound mark. I felt like my materialistic heart was just going to explode. Somehow, I walked out with only a ruffled love-heart print skirt, 2 pairs of coloured stockings and a pair of grey heels. A very controlled amount when the adrenalin rush is taken into account. I was surprised to find that the famed Marks & Spencer left me utterly unimpressed.

Topshop, however, was better than I could have ever expected. Four vast floors of overwhelming variety. Bottom floor: Shoes, vintage and designer capsule collections. Second: Topshops current season ranges. Third: Accessories and more clothes (somehow). Forth: Topman (but who cares). It really is overwhelming and utterly exhausting. I got a pair of gorgeous flats and decided to leave further Topshop exploration for another day. Next was H&M where I got a black and white embrodiered cardigan but didn't see anything else that took my fancy. Oxford Street is wonderful but tiring to the point that I wanted to just crawl back into bed.

Alas, we found the energy to track down a warm classic English pub and stopped for a few ciders. It all felt wonderfully traditional but really was stupid considering that it made me even more drained of energy (and to be honest went straight to my head). Despite this, we got the train to Trafalgar Square. I had changed out of my Converses into my new pointy-toed Topshop flats while in the pub and as we walked through Trafalgar Square I bitterly regretted this decision as I felt the crisp new shoes cutting through my socks into my heel. But as we continued walking the pain was eventually silenced as I glimped the London Eye and Big Ben for the first time. How exhausted, hungry and in pain I was became completely insignificant as I stared at the monuments that I had always longed to live amongst.

It was a tiring but wonderful day.

London calling, and I don't want to shout.

DAY 2 - LONDON

Any excitement or relief felt as the plane landed that afternoon in London was soon replaced by exhaustion, confusion and frustration as Heathrow airport robbed me of my high spirits. What a nightmare. For such a major airport it's horribly signed and full of clueless people. Anyway, we got on a train to Paddington station eventually and struggled with our luggage down the cobblestone sidewalk for a couple of blocks down London Street until we got to the Radnor Hotel. It's right near Hyde Park and has Russian employees and a very talkative elevator. It was dark when we arrived (about 5pm) and we went for a walk along the border of Hyde Park. Watching the big red double decker buses whiz past by the dozen was such a thrilling novelty. Even with the icey English air drawing roses on my cheeks it was hard to believe I was finally in England. Nothing afterwards would compare to the feeling I got the very first time I was brushing shoulders with indifferent Londoners, watching cyclists dare their way through beeping black cabs, all the while finally feeling like I'd found the place I wanted to live.

Seoul will Steal Your Soul.

DAY 1 - Korea

Humans were not put on this earth to suffer ten hour flights. No amount of Elle Magazine, 500 Days of Summer or Korean pop can keep me amused for that long. To sum it up; by the time we were flying over a Korean river I was convinced the boats were monstrous swans. Swanzillas. I was so casually convinced of this that I came close to remarking aloud about it.

One word to describe this place is bizarre. But one word doesn't cut it... it's a neon-lit, corporate mannered ball of fascination. What I've seen has left me both fascinated and completely weirded out. Boys are portrayed as having this edgy femininity about them, unlike the beer glugging boys at home that aim only to be masculine. Korean boys smile brightly dressed in neon pink in phone ads. On the music channel a Korean indie band play; the male lead singer strutting around with his carefully tossled glistening black hair. There's something undeniably female about the way he chooses to pull the audience; sauntering and strutting around. It's captivating.

Outside its bitterly freezing. Delicate burnt orange autumn leaves litter the ground. On a walk we came across a statue of Confuscious and, more interesting in my opinion, an avary of geese and bunnies. People are far from friendly but the culture is intriguing.

EUROTRIP.

So here I am back home again after a month of being overseas. I kept a diary the whole time so I could come back and post up things about how I felt at the time, seeing as I didn't bring a laptop. There were highs and lows, like anything. Smiling and laughing one day, breaking down in a Boots pharmacy the next. There's always dramas. At times I felt as if I'd found where I wanted to spend the rest of my life and at others my heart was just completely breaking over how much I missed people in Australia. It made me realise things. I really do only want what I can't have. There were people that I left Australia not giving a damn about, I was totally done with them as far as I was concerned. Then just a couple of days into the trip and they were all I could think about and I felt like my heart was completely shattered over them. Now I'm back and, after a moment of something close to anger, I just feel completely indifferent again. I may be emotionally insane, but whatever. I have a good time. SO here it is, my month in the big world. I'll post a few days at a time.
xo