Part Two of "Home at last..."

And my travels continue...

Taiping was our next stop! We got to stay in a homestay while living there. My host family insisted we call them "Machi and Pachi" (Aunt and Uncle). We were also persuaded to wear Muslim garb. Under the headpiece and tent-like dress, I don't think I have ever sweated so much. Jen and I looked like a couple of old ladies under these layers. Er, correction: I looked like a spinster old lady. My Machi also gave me the wrong size of dress, so at one point I looked like a stuffed spinster sausage in hot pink. I don't think I have ever looked so unattractive in my life. It was a great source of laughter for Jen though. There I was, stuffed and stuck in this polyester blend hot pink dress: my ass was ballooning over and my arms were straight up in the air. I was yelping for help and she was holding her sides from having her gut split from laughter. Our poor Muslim host parents must have been very worried or offended by my screams and Jen's laughter.

Luckily, Jen pulled it together enough to get my ass out of that dress and to ask for a new one from our Machi. My new dress was something my grandmother would have liked: blue with giant blue flowers on it. It put about 40 years on me but it was a lot more comfortable. I complained about how hot it was to wear but that was before I saw my wedding dress...

THE WEDDING:

During our homestay, my host family put on a mock wedding. I was chosen as the bride and my groom was an IT guy from New Zealand in his late thirties. He was a nice guy but I was dreading the wedding due to all the teasing I was getting from our travel group. Even David, the groom, started making cracks at me ("Hey hun, have you made the seating arrangements for the wedding, yet?) Anyway, the night of the wedding was also the day I had gotten stuck in that hot pink mess. What I had no idea was that my wedding dress was an even thicker polyester blend that included a wool cap.

In Taiping, I don't think we had a day under 30C, so it was a real treat to wear wool. My hair was placed on top of my head and a blue wool skullcap was pulled over. Next, I had to put on a beautiful (though heavy) blue jacket and skirt. I was topped with a chiffon veil and metal crown. I looked like a princess but I was sweating like a pig. Luckily for me, Jen, my maid of honour, got to fan me for two hours while I sat in a royal chair with my husband during the ceremony. It was actually quite a beautiful experience and looking back on the photos, I've come to realize that Western weddings are so... white... compared to the colour of Malay or Indian weddings.

Penang was another beautiful place. It was probably Jen and my favourite place in Malaysia. The culture was really evident in the city but it was not overwhelming... maybe we were just used to it by then. I saw my first ladyboy (who happened to be a prostitute but that's besides the point) and we had some amazing food experiences there. It was there that I got hooked on Mango Sticky Rice dessert. The sweets in Malaysia were very interesting-- though definitely not my idea of a real treat. Sweetened beans or green coconut slime served over rice just doesn't beat chocolate.

Jen and I got massages too. You will have to hear Jen's account-- her experience is actually more embarrassing than mine-- but my encounter with the masseuse was pretty interesting to say the least. Fluent english speakers in this particular parlour did not exist. I was trying to ask my masseuse if I should remove all of my clothing (since it was a full body massage) and all she could say was, "you naked on bed. now." Thankfully she left the room in time for me to rapidly strip to my underwear and hide under the sheets. When she entered the room, I heard her click on the television. She was watching Asian soap operas during our session.

For those of you who have experienced a massage, you must know that the point of a massage is to try r-e-l-a-x-i-n-g... but this was far from it. All I could hear while I was trying to let my mind go was sobbing, screams and retorts in another language. And if you think our soap operas are dramatic, you have never seen an Asian one. It is epic.

But that wasn't the worst part! Half-way through my massage, she jumped up on the table and straddled me while she used her elbow on my back and legs. She was a little thing but it was still weird feeling her sit on me while she kneaded my muscles. I am sure some of you men out there (and maybe some of you women) are just lapping up the idea of girl-on-girl but it was not sexy in the least. I was lying there, more tense than when I had come in, and thinking, "will anyone hear my screams or will they mistake that for the Asian girl on my masseuse's television?" Regardless, when the massage was said and done, I actually felt pretty good. For sixteen dollars, it was a once-in-a-lifetime experience...

More to come...

Home at last...

One Hundred and Fourty-Three days away from home, five countries, and a two trunks full of memories: I am back home in Canada armed with experience, maturity and all that other stuff. I have been working on a very long blog post for some time but it was getting too epic so I have decided to break them up in parts. Here is part one! Please note that my sentimental writing is at full throttle (but for good reason). That is all:

Hello Everyone.

So, I left Canada the day after St. Valentines Day and I arrived home on July 5th, the day after Independence Day. Maybe I am crazy but I think the theme of love and independence in the last six months of my life has been most prominent. It's no surprise then that I would find these trivial coincidences to be little reminders of things that I have been thinking about a lot lately.

On Independence:

I flew the nest on February 15th and I did it in a big way. I went across the world to live amongst a nation of wonderful people (for the most part anyway). I had a great time doing it too. I discovered a passion for experimenting in the kitchen (and then taking pictures of the result). I discovered the ocean and what it is like to go to school sans two jobs, a car and a family to fall back on all the time. For the first time, I tried kangaroo, squid, scallops, mussels, shark, haloumi cheese, dukkah (which tastes like an old man) and cheesecake straight from the freezer. I went Australian tobogganing and I drank salty sea water. I met some of the greatest people I'll ever meet. I navigated two major cities (Sydney and Melbun') and got a slice of what it's like being truly self-sufficient.

Then in June, I went to Malaysia, Thailand and Bali. Jesus Christ. Asia! My best friend joined me in Australia on the third and the next day we were off to Singapore. Our first day was a bit of a disaster-- weather wise. It was like I had never seen rain before... or at least a downpour to such a grand scale. Still, we braved the rain (which was warm) and navigated our way through the Little India district. I bought a blue plastic poncho in Oz that I was dreading pulling out. Plastic ponchos are the rainy gear equivalent to a fanny pack. This one I had taken with me was particularly bad... so it was only fitting that half-way through the day I figured out I had shoved my head through one of the arm holes rather than the hooded top. I still blame Jen for making me look more ridiculous than need be.

Melaka was our next stop and the starting point of our Malaysian experience. A trend that started in Melaka and that did not end until we were back in Australia was the poor quality of sidewalks. May not sound that bad but I had to constantly watch my footing. One minute I was walking along just fine and then the sidewalk would open to a gaping hole with only a makeshift piece of rotting wood or plastic planked across the opening. Sometimes the sidewalk would just be a pile of rocks or broken concrete. Sometimes it was just easier walking on the road and risk getting picked off by a motorcycle or taxi.

After Melaka, we headed to Kuala Lumpur. KL had the nice mix of big city and village. Our hotel was based in China Town where the scary hawkers cat call, grab, whistle and sell knock-off product. It was my first experience with that kind of interaction and, for the most part, it was pretty funny. I got everything from "Hey baby!" to just a simple "kiss-kiss" smacking noise. Nothing made me want to buy a fake Chanel purse until I heard a man with greased back hair say, "Hey sexy! Babaaay, look at these purses! Muah Muah!" Not.

KL also had beautiful handmade art and crafts. It also had some amazing food. Almost every place we ate was on the street and so it was like "dinner and a show." While eating something that was called "fried carrot cake" I watched a dog taking a nap on top of a vehicle and a man who walked around with his leg behind his head. Pretty amusing and disturbing.

Our last dinner in KL was probably one of the most memorable. We were eating on the road again across from a hawker stall selling fake designer bags. The gentleman who was running that particular stand had these piercing eyes that bordered psycho-killer. He was chain-smoking and starring at me without much blinking. For some reason, if one has crazy eyes, one has no need for blinking. I don't understand that. Regardless, I noticed early on that I was the subject of his gaze. I tried to ignore it. (You've got to most of the time since meeting someone's gaze somehow means you want to buy something).

Anyway, this was going on throughout the meal. I turned to Jen to let her know of what was going on and she looked at him and laughed out loud when he wouldn't stop starring at me. I was panicked but I was also flattered. I mean... there were a lot of white girls around, yet somehow I was special. I think I could be charmed by a lot of serial killers-- honestly. At one point, he gestured to say that my eyes were nice. I looked down about the time that he got bashful and smiled to his friend.

After we finished eating, we decided to go to a Reggae Bar around the corner. I told myself not to turn around and look at Psycho Killer but I did and I could tell he was trying to tell me something. To what it was, I will never know and probably for the best.

Part two to come shortly!

One Hundredth Day in Oz!

Hi!

So, today is the 100th day that I have been in Australia and it has been one sweet day. This past weekend I traveled to the homes of two of my best mates. I have to say the Port Macquarie area is a lovely place to be with people you like! Indeed, Kate and Emily were determined to put on a good show for me this weekend and it was nothing short of wonderful.

The day we arrived, Kate and I met up with Emily at the cafe that Emily used to work at. It was a quaint little place with live music, flowers (it's a greenhouse) and neat art. I went out of my comfort zone and had a "bacon, banana and cheese" melt. I can't say I would have thought of the combination myself but it was pretty amazing. Later on, I went home with Emily to meet her family.

Emily's family is the kind of family you'd only ever see on a weird sitcom. In fact, they are a hilarious bunch of people who should start a reality show about family wrestling. At one point (actually, at several points) Emily had her twenty-five year old brother pinned to the ground. Emily is a civilized lady (not to sell you short, Em!) but when her brother would get this devilish smile on his face and call her "fat" (which she is definitely not!), she would have him flat on his back in seconds. Quite the woman, I tell ya. Apart from that, Em's dad showed me a book on Australia's most beautiful birds--which was actually very interesting-- until Em made her move and whisked me off to heckle at the contestants on Masterchef and, later, at some sleezy guy on a show about Spain. Good times.

The next day, Emily and I met up with Kate in Port Macquarie. Along the way, however, Em showed me all the amazing beaches, trails, and real-estate. I could picture myself living in a place like that-- wouldn't be hard really. Hit the beach, go to a cafe, back to the beach, walk through a reserved rainforest, back to the beach! Even when we met Kate on the wharf it was like a fairy tale. The sun was hitting the water in just the sort of postcard way you'd expect. Kate had been watching a pod of dolphins. We hung our feet over the dock and watched the fish. Laughed. Chatted. Perfect.

Later on that day-- after shopping for errands-- Kate and I went to the beach and had ice cream cones. I know it's not that special for you Australians but I couldn't get over the (nostalgic) novelty of eating mango ice cream while standing in the ocean. Amazing.

After that, I went back to Kate's house and officially met her parents. I fell in love with them immediately. We sat outside in front of the pool, drank and talked into the evening. Maggie and Jazz (her lovely dogs) kept me warm and reminded me of Rudy's good days back home. After dinner, Kate cut us each a healthy sized piece of cheesecake and we sat down and watched Love and Other Drugs. For those of you who have not seen it, I will warn you that it is not the most "family oriented" film. Let's just say that Anne Hathaway's tits are amazing and that mole on her left breast is cute. And although my face would be turning a dark hue of purple from embarrassment (sitting there with Kate's parents), they are the kind of people who just make you feel comfortable-- even when you're watching Jake Gyllenhaal's hand slide down Anne Hathaway's panties. I guess that's a good thing!

Bright and early the next morning, Kate's dad took us four-wheel driving on a beach. It was nothing like I had ever experienced before. The sensation of driving with the ocean just outside my window was strange and wonderful. We jumped out at one point, dipped our toes in the water (well, I had my adidas on but I got my hands wet) and took photos. I will have to post some to this entry-- remind me! Haha!

Later on, we went for lattes, fed some fish and oh, yeah, drove up a mountain! Again, I got to see a unique view of Australia. Kate even pointed out her house down below. I pretended I was God looking down on my kingdom. That too is documented in photos...

After that, we went fishing and caught zip. It had been over ten years since I had tried it and although I was terrible at casting, I got good support from Kate's dad: "Well, that was really good for a beginner, Mackka, but here's a tip..."

By the time we got back, it was around lunch time and coincidentally there was a "food and wine" festival going on. Say no more, right? We headed down there and stuffed our faces full of indian food, wine and cake! The gentleman who gave me my chocolate cake slice had actually slipped me a second piece and that was a double bonus. So, here is my piece of advice for you food festival goers: go later in the day when they are trying to get rid of their food because you might get more than you paid for!

Sadly, after the festival it was time to say goodbye. Though it was hard to leave, I had an overwhelming sense of gratefulness. Who knew this time last year that I would be on a mountain overlooking a small town in Australia with a group of funny happy people? Time has flown by so quickly and yet it feels like I have been in Australia for a long time. Tomorrow is Monday and the first day back into reality. Though I am begrudgingly accepting it, another part of me is still eating ice cream on the beach.

Overall, I'd say I had a fantastic weekend. Hope yours was good too.

Day Eighty-Eight in Oz

Dear Everyone,

So, I was looking around my apartment thinking it looks like it belongs to a depressed slob and then I thought... wait a minute...

Before you all send me comments for a suicide hotline, I will say that I'm not depressed (maybe a smidgen bluer than usual) but I have most definitely been a slob the last couple of days. I have no idea why but my motivation to do anything has plummeted. I know I'm preaching to the choir to most of you students (especially those of you who have just finished and would like nothing more than to sit on the couch with a bowl of cereal resting on your stomach for infinite) but this is somewhat unusual for me. I would classify myself as the "sentimental hoarder" but definitely not a "slob slob." Yet, if you were to look at my unmade bed and my kitchen counter that is supporting the weight of a lot of half eaten food and dirty dishes, you might be a little shocked.

Since I've been here I've been noticing a lot of my mum's characteristics come out in me. This one isn't particularly new but I constantly apologize for the smell and appearance to those that enter my apartment. I could've just cleaned it or, conversely, it could look like it does now and I would say the same thing: "Hey, sorry about the mess. Last night I cooked with garlic. Sorry about that." Most people look at me like I'm a lunatic-- and maybe this is what I want so that they aren't just starring at my cleaning habits. Who knows. Do we got a psychologist in this house?

Another thing I do that is my mum to the core is to get the impulse to clean that thing you would never think of during a normal housecleaning session. "Oh! I know what would be fun! Let's take apart the microwave and scrub the shit out of it!" or "Those drawers are looking a little dusty. No matter! Let's pull everything out, wipe them down and then... ready for it... let's wipe out the drawer i-t-s-e-l-f!"

I'm sure lots of mums have these habits and maybe even more outlandish ones than I have just described. My mum, however, does all these obscure clean-ups in between raising three kids (one of which isn't even considered to be a proper human yet-- give him five more years), a demanding job at the hospital, on-call shifts (some of which keeps her up for twenty-six hours or more), studying, power-point presentations, cooking, and spontaneous renovation bursts (right now it's my front yard that is going under the knife)! Most people I know would turn to their blog or facebook and complain until their fingers ran out of steam but my mum does this with an open heart and fast legs. She's my superhero and I really miss her.

I apologize to all for taking this sentimental turn (I told you I was a sentimental hoarder) but I think I had to write that down to motivate me to clean my place, haha.

As far as I can report about my Australian experience, here it is:

My friend, Joe, gave me a great book. I am only on the fourth chapter (of what appears to be a pretty meaty book) and I should probably be focusing on academic endeavours instead but it is just so intriguing. It's been a good while since I've read a really good book and it's reminded me why I am an English major. I like books. I forgot about that for a moment there... Oh, and do not worry, Mike, I will be getting to The Alchemist. I've decided I want it to be my journey book through Southeast Asia-- seems fitting since the narrator seems to be Muslim. I don't know that yet for sure since I haven't read it yet but I think it will be good for that experience.

One more thing:

For those of you who do not know, my best friend is flying her butt to Australia to meet me and fly with me to Singapore where we will do a two week journey up to Thailand. From there, we will venture down to Bali where we plan on passing out on the beach from exhaustion and happiness. That's the plan anyway. Don't ask me how I'm going to fund this excursion-- I just know that the opportunity was too wonderful to pass up... especially since I have such a great person to experience it with.

That said, I am trying to squeeze every ounce of school, friendship and happiness that I've made/discovered here. Socializing is trumping a lot of school but I really don't mind since the people I hang out with are more interesting anyway.

Okay. Now to clean up my mess. Maybe I'll try making bird noises to conjure up the cleaning spirit of my mum: "Ka-Kaw! Ka-Kaw! Koo-la-doo-doo!"

love,

Kenz

Day Eighty-One in Oz

It's a Wednesday night in Newcastle. I have half my dinner uneaten and sitting beside me. It looks revolting-- though it once was a pretty nice pasta a few days ago. I made it for Bryan's final dinner in Australia. It was a pumpkin risoni. For those of you who do not know what that is, it is a grain-like pasta. What inspired me to make it was a dish we had had in Melbourne.

It was our last night in that fabulous city and we were wandering around aimlessly. I was beginning to get food-cranky. For me, if I'm tired and hungry, I begin to get short-tempered, frustrated and sometimes mean. Some people would call this being "bitchy" and I wouldn't disagree with them. Poor Bryan was trying to find a suitable place for us while I kept blabbing away about how difficult it was to find a decent place to eat especially when Melbourne is considered to be a haven for great food and wine.

After several minutes of walking through dark streets and cafe alley ways, I noticed a sign that read, "Vue de Monde." I had read in a tourist brochure that it was considered to be an excellent French restaurant. Without thinking twice, I grabbed Bryan by the arm and probably rather aggressively because I was in one of my moods. When we got in, however, I froze. It was decadent to the point of making me feel rather insecure and weak. Don't you despise that? On the one hand, I adore fine dining and fine experiences in general. But on the other hand-- and you can ask Bryan about my irrational insecurities-- I avoid those places-- restaurants and shops-- completely. Something about the way that hierarchy, or maybe better put, exclusivity, is blatantly on show really bothers me. "Vue de Monde" had a soft reflection of that... though it wasn't so overbearing that I ran for the hills.

When we got into the restaurant, a server took one glance at us and asked us if we needed assistance. I told her that we had wandered in and we're looking for a bite to eat. She suggested we go to the Bistro part of the restaurant. We followed her down a hall and into an obscure part of the restaurant. When we entered, it was beautiful. French paintings, red cushions, dim lighting all gave the allure of European romance and sophistication. It was stuffy, don't get me wrong, but I decided to play along.

When we were given menus, I kind of choked at the prices. Now, the Bistro is supposed to be the more "casual" dining experience of the restaurant, but judging by the prices, atmosphere and service, one could easily mistake the Bistro as very fine dining. I don't even want to imagine what the other half of the restaurant was like...

Still, we had a fabulous experience. I had had a pumpkin risoni. It was about half the size of a regular serving but every mouthful was simply divine. Bryan, who had opted for the steak, had the best cut, best cooked, best presented steak I had seen in many months. And the wine-- oh the wine-- every drop was savoured. Every ounce of it was delicious. So delicious, in fact, that I had to close my eyes with every sip and give my full attention to the flavour. And then the creme brulee arrived and I almost died.

Most of you know my obsession with food and wine but I think I've been taken to new heights since this last dining experience. It's probably lame for you to read about it but I think food is so important. It really is the center piece of every celebration. Who goes to a wedding or an anniversary without food? Who goes to a party without the snacks and booze? Who goes to a funeral and leaves before the miniature ham sandwiches are passed around? I don't know. I adore food because I adore people and delicious experiences. It doesn't bode well with my figure at the best of times but I am much happier laughing with friends over a glass of vino and chocolate than starring at my fridge vacantly and hungry.

Now that I'm currently on my second... er, no... third glass of wine, this all makes a lot of sense to me. I hope it does to you. But getting back to the point, Bryan and I had a wonderful though unexpected dining experience and it was a nice send-off from Melbourne. I recommend the place to anyone who enjoys art, food and shopping.

Our trip made me really appreciate Newcastle too. It may not be the most cultured or exciting place in Australia but it has a lot of fine cafes, restaurants and people. The university is gorgeous and, if you know where you're going, there are parts of the city that are just splendid. I particularly like Darby Street. It's home to the best of the best in food and fashion. It's also not too too far from the beach-- depending on where you are on the street, I guess. Yesterday, a friend of mine and I went to Monkey Monkey Monkey. It was a really nice cafe with mediocre service but still with a lovely atmosphere and great food. We spent a good couple of hours discussing the really freaky people in our film class, politics and the best television series ever made. It was fun to lounge about and it got me thinking: I would be a fabulous dandy. All they ever did was discuss high art, eat, party and celebrate. I would be a great candidate! Where is the university degree for that? All kidding aside, I know I'm not a dandy because I'm not as clever as Oscar Wilde nor as good-looking as his lover, Lord Alfred Douglas.

Getting back to our trip, however, I will say that it was very fun and successful. We saw a lot of things and did some things that could never be done at home... namely a Dracula cabaret/dinner show and a wine tour. We ate a lot of good food and got to spend much needed time together. I miss him so much but I'm trying to focus on school as much as possible right now. Having said that, I am almost finished my third glass of wine... tisk tisk...

I don't know if there is anything more I'd like to add to this post other than the fact that you all should go out and eat a really fabulous meal with great people. It doesn't hurt to do it in a foreign place, either.

My wish is that you all are happy and well. I will be seeing some of you around soon and some of you in a few months, and I look forward to it!

Day Sixty in Oz

Good'ay mates!

Actually, it's been very rare that I've been greeted in such stereotypical fashion. Australians, often in customer service, say instead, "How you going?" I don't know what this means exactly. How am I going to pay for this item? How am I doing? Or is it just a slightly more professional "whazz up?" It's hard to gauge but I've gotten used to it for the most part.

So, what's new with me? I have been submersed into the toils of school, homework and having no money to support my holiday habits. I've loosened my grip on the alcoholic beverage to embrace my library card and do what is expected of me here: study, write, study, write, break, study, write etc etc...

I may or may not have written this exact entry before but who was I kidding. It's nearly impossible to study or write essays when the sun is shining and nearly blinding me via reflection off my computer screen. If the weather is even protesting my studying, it's time to give up the books and just do what man was intended to do: play in the grass.

Actually, I haven't done much of that but I have a break coming up and I intend to get re-baptized into holiday mode.

Bryan will be here tomorrow. Currently, the poor guy is sitting on a plane (probably between the two stinkiest and/or obese people on the plane) half way between Los Angeles and Sydney. Words can't capture how excited I am to see my better half. Two months have really flown by quickly but trying to remember everything in that span is like an exercise in dizziness. From the variety of friends I've made to the things I've done in and around Newcastle-- it feels like a lifetime-- albeit a very short one-- but a well established life distinguished from the one I've got waiting at home. It will be nice to have a piece of me from home here in my Australian bubble of a life.

I think this yearning for that event to materialize really brought out the best of me last night. I was sitting around having some "goon" (poor man's version of wine) with my mates when I did the drunken "I love you guys" speech. They didn't seem to mind and I genuinely meant it but I'm sure they were thinking, "Ah man. There she goes. Oh no. There's a quiver in her voice. She's really done herself in now. Poor thing. She needs a hug." And I did get hugs! Note to all you poor saps out there in the future: act pathetic, you can usually get what you want. ...Oh, and don't worry about your pride-- pride is for suckers.

More to the point, I've made some incredible friends here and I will be sad to leave them when the time comes. I have very much relished friendship since moving here and I know it's only making me love the crap out of you all back home even more. You guys better be ready for some lovin' when I get back.

My next entry will hopefully cover a topic you're all more interested in: Melbourne! Sydney! Wine tours! Food! Music! Culture! Yipee!

Bryan and I are traveling to Melbourne after a few days of wandering around Sydney. I am very excited to see more of Australia and getting a better idea of what this country is all about. So far I've gathered that they really like their meat pies, rugby, fashion, beaches, surf boards, reckless driving, and goon. I'd say this is a pretty happy-go-lucky place and it's fine by me!

Hope all is well with you. Thanks for making it this far into my sappy entry.

'Til next,

Kenz

Day Fourty-Two in Oz

Hey.

I find it incredible how quickly time is passing while I am away. I'm well into my second month in Australia and I have no idea how that happened. I could say a lot has happened since I have left home because it is true but I still don't think that justifies how speedy my new life here has gone.

I am really enjoying the mundane aspects of it all: grocery shopping, cooking, cleaning, taking out the recycling, coming home to my mess, doing the dishes, having a beer, reading some philosophy and repeating. Back home, of course, these things feel tedious and frustrating but I like it all here! Must be something in the water...

Speaking of which, I went to the beach last week with a film class friend of mine on our break. It was really casual, you know: "Oh me? I'm just going to get my toes wet in the ocean in between my film tutorial and lecture. Oh, it was nothing. Just a little bit of sun, a fresh organic lunch, and a visit to the Ocean Baths..."

If you ask me, it's not hard living here. I relish in the fact that I have a recovering burn on my shoulders from our excursion and that, while sitting in class, I was rubbing the sea salt off my calves. It just doesn't get any better than that.

I really hope all is well with you guys back home. As the days get longer and warmer on your side of the world, it's getting slightly chillier and darker here. I don't mind though. My Aussie friend and I were shopping the other day and she pointed to a really nice jacket. It was a cotton long sleeved number. I asked her if that would keep her warm for the winter and she eyed it up and said: "Well, you could throw a sweater under that and be toasty." Unbelievable.

This week we're still expecting some days in the +30s and I'm looking forward to relishing in that but I'm so curious as to what an Australian winter will feel like. I might have climatized too quickly-- 18C sounds a little too cold for my liking!

Until the next time I get an urge to blabber on...

Kenz