The Beauty of Desire

Hostel located. Wiiiiiiiiiiith a brothel next door. Were we back in Dam?!

My first impressions of Vienna were far from positive. It seemed as though our European travels were doomed. It was late, it was dark, we'd had trouble finding the correct train station, a guy had hassled us for money (Apparently, volunteering to help two ladies carry their cases down 24 steps involves a fee!). The taxi driver couldn't find the hostel, and I hate to admit, we had even opted to eat a KFC. The one thing I hate doing when abroad. 

No...we did not give the guy any money. I'm stubborn :)

Waking up the next morning was NOT delightful in the slightest.

After a 10 minute bus journey in to the city centre, which we didn't bother paying for (Naughty!), I jumped off the bus with the most enthusiasm I could muster (not much), looked up... 

...and was stunned by the pure beauty of absolutely everything! Buildings, parks, shops, monuments. All so...clean, white, big. Grand. Classy. All so...WOW!

I whipped my map and notes out. Where would I start?!

 

I'd circled the things I wanted to see; the Haus House, St Stephen's Cathedral, the Opera house, the Anchor Clock. But it seemed that everywhere I looked there was already something beautiful, ready to be marvelled at.

This was the city to take that opportunity. To stand back and soak in the beauty. I folded my map and placed it back in my pocket.

B's 'itchy feet' had been allowed to stand still and let life catch up with them.

If I hadn't mentioned already, this was my time out. My travelling was a time for me. I hate to say it, but it was set aside to 'find myself', to not rely on a man to make me happy. Going from seeing someone every day for 4 years, to being totally alone was bound to have an effect.

It is said that "the desire of a man is for the woman, but the desire of a woman is for the desire of the man" (Samuel Taylor Coleridge). The beautiful paiing by Klimt known as 'The Kiss' made me stand still and contemplate this. I was trying to figure it out. What does it mean? For about half an hour I must have stood in awe. Thinking; Is the woman enjoying the embrace? Is she almost pulling away? Are they in love? What does it represent?

I came to only one conclusion, 'He adores her'.

Right there and then I told myself I'd made the right choice by leaving. I'd never felt that. Okay, I'd felt attracted to and loved, but never adored. I smiled to myself, maybe one day, but for now it was just me. I had all the time in the world to be desired.

After all this deep thought; staring at the gold encrusted painting, smiling silly to myself, nodding in agreement with my realisations, and the occasional passer by giving me the 'what a weirdo' look, Rosie took her cue in falling off her seat and our bursts of 'bhahahahaha!' laughter pierced the silence of the room. I suppose there's only so much space for serious sentiment, and then you just need a good old laugh to cleanse the soul. Perfect timing on Rosies part if you ask me! :)

After a whole day of moments like this, marvelling and then being brought back to reality by hilarious things happening (I wont go into detail; I would only end up saying 'You had to be there!'), we'd worked up a monsterous appetite.

FOOD!!!!

Budget permitting we couldn't eat like kings every night, so we adopted a German speaking Belgium guy (as you do) and went for a cheap meal in a Bistro bar. The traditional Austrian dish Wiener Schnitzel was ordered (a thin piece of breadcrumbed deep-fried veal), served with a slice of lemon and a potato side dish, and accompanied by a pint of Ottakringer, the local beer. Filling!!

We burnt off the calories with a little walk through the streets in search of a place for the next part of the meal. Dessert. Oh no... I was about to burst as it was.

That's when we discovered Restaurant 1070.

The hostess invited us to sit at a small table outside with a big, warm, welcoming smile. Straight away I took a liking to her. She was brilliant; very helpful and also had a laugh and joke with us. We allowed her to choose us a typical wine from the region, and as we talked about the day, she poured our tipple. Giving us each a glass of water  too, "because when you drink red wine you always need the water!" she said as she raised her eyebrows. Uni days and Rosie's Mulled wine = OH! We know!

When we asked to look at the dessert menu, she told us to leave it to her... and I'm more than pleased we did!

1. Because they have no menus, and 2. Because the next thing we know, we each have a beautifully served selection plate placed infront of us.

I dug in.

More than 1 year on, I can't exactly remember what the desserts were, but my memory recalls a zesty orange sorbet? A pear mouse? And a dark berry chocolate cake? I just remember thinking 'My golly gosh. These are Delicious!'.

THIS was the reason I had travelled. I had desired food. I was hungry for more and now I was being fed.



Rain & Concrete

From the minute we arrived in Berlin, to the minute we left, it rained.

Not just a light drizzle...but a proper down pour....for two days and nights. I'm not even exaggerating. It rained straight. No break. No ease off. Just constant rain!

I mean, I've got nothing against rain personally, it's rather quite alleviating to sqeeze your tootsies into an old pair of wellies and go puddle jumping, and I'm certianly not one to let a bit of wet weather 'rain on my parade' as such. I am English after all. But still, I am sure Berlin would have been a tad more enjoyable and interesting had we not been soaked down to our knickers the whole duration!
 
The upside was the hotel, Meininger Hauptbahnhof...after Amsterdam we were thankful to get back to a clean, non smelly room, sharing with two other girls. The bathroom was huge! Compared to Dam it felt like luxury! On the downside, rain aside, everything around us seemed...modern...no culture to sink in to, no obvious signs that 'Yes! We are in Berlin'. It just seemed sooooo...
 
...concretey. (Yes, I'm aware that Rosie and I just add a 'y' onto the end of everything to describe it).

We were going to join a free tour, starting from our hotel the next morning, but they just seemed to depart without telling anyone, so we missed it. We decided to brave the city alone, which was fine, until...

Well, imagine how lost we got trying to navigate our way around RAINY, CONCRETEY, BERLIN using a paper map! Struggle, would be an understatement.

Poor Rosie!

Both wet, fed up, and hands covered in ink, Rosie wanted to join the back of another tour group, but I just thought it was intrusive, so we carried on to the Jew Memorial. The sentiment was ruined, by the rain...and the mood we were both now in. We carried on to the grafitied part of the Berlin Wall and the Potsdamer Platz where I was looking to grab something to eat. Rosie however, having not thought about rain, having travelled to Europe without waterproofs, was more soaked than me and just wanted to get to the Museum fur Naturkunde (Natural History museum). So that's where we went, with a quick attempt at visiting the Reichstag building along the way. I wanted to go inside the dome roof specifically for the 360 degree view of the city, but there was a political event resulting in the whole building being closed off to visitors (who also have to pre-book on a normal day). We weren't having the joyess of times so far! 

As fascinating as it was, especially the planetaritum, there are only so many dead animals in jars I can take in one sitting. So Rosie suggested we go back to the hotel, dry off, then head back this way, to visit the Berlin Wall. I knew she wasn't too fussed about seeing the only peice of the Berlin wall that is still in tact, in its original form, so I said I'd go and meet her back at the hotel later on.
 
My first lone venture! Of many to come. I hid the map up my sleeve and kept my head down as I walked through...what I can only describe as, the Berlin Ghetto, to reach my destination.  

I was overwhelmed when I saw the wall...yes, because it took me ages to find it and I'd walked around in circles and was still wet, but mainly because of having had a Granddad who loved and breathed history; war stories and pictures from books came flooding back to me. I blamed the rain for ruining my mascara.
 
After drying off and glaming up, we discovered a Traditional German restaurant, Nante-Eck, Unter den Linden. It was busy. We waited about 20minutes for a table in the small bar area, which is more or less a hallway from the front door to the dining area. The staff were dressed in breeches; all looking like they had stepped out of the 1920's. We were seated, given English translated menus, and asked what we'd like to drink. Berlin Beer! (Berliner Weisse!).

I just HAD to try the Berlin Ham Knuckle (Schweinshaxe) with Sauerkraut, potatoes and a pea puree.

This was delicious! Fiddly, what with trying to get the utensils between the bone and fat for a good fork full of meat, but it was so moist and juicy once you'd got there. I'd definitely eat this again.

(Okay, there's nothing much I wont eat!).
 
Did this fill me up? Yes! Of course. But there's always room for Warm Apple Struddle with Vanilla sauce and whipped cream. Mmmmmm. I've always had a thing about the contrast of a hot dessert accompanied by something cold. Although, that is usually a Fab lolly with a cup of tea :)
 
The prices suited the good, solid, tasty portions. So for two newly qualified students with no jobs who had spent the last day cold, miserable and wet, this was ideal!
 
I used to have a book when I was little that had ideas of things to do on a rainy day. Appropriately titled 'Save it for a Rainy Day'.... It probably didn't feature Berlin.

Are you ready to see Vienna now B?! YES YES YES!!!! "BYE BYE RAIN!"

DAM BABY!

So, after seeing and experiencing such an amazing country and culture I arrived home. As wonderful as it was to spend time with my family and friends it only took 2 weeks to feel...hmmm...deflated.

What was I going to do now? Search for a job? Settle down in a career? Nothing really seemed to appeal to me...apart from one thing...packing my bags and going. Where? Anywhere.

So I started planning.

Any body who was foolish enough to listen was given a run down of all the countries I wanted to step foot in. Customers I served at the restaurant, Tescos till workers, taxi drivers, my hair dresser, my boss, and even her cat!

My friend from university suggested that she join me, and that we should go on a 25 day Contiki tour. I was up for this, as I'd never really booked a flight alone before (Mummy?!). So we started searching for a good deal.

It was only when our tutor told us that it'd be more tailored for what we wanted if we organised it ourselves. Rosie didn't really fancy this idea, but was happy to let me organise it for the both of us. Something I was more than ecstatic about getting stuck in to...

...Ordering our Interrail tickets, googling the top 10 things to do in each city, what to try food wise, and even scheduling in toilet breaks. I had embraced the challenge.

First stop. Amsterdam. AKA 'DAM BABYYYYYYYYY!!'.

When thinking of Amsterdam, I am taken back to an episode of Sex and the City when Carrie gets high, I quote, "smoking a doobie", and caught by the police. This became the catch phrase for our duration in Dam, and by the time we left, there wasn't a single person in the city who hadn't heard us say it.

The destination is well known for its' open attitude towards sex and for giving a whole new meaning to the 'coffee shop', but which has so much more to offer;

The Anne Frank museum, Van Gogh exhibition, its canals, Heineken factory, free guided tours starting from Dam Square, the Tulip museum...

      

...and the experiences it provides; 

 

'homemade ice-cream' morning treats from Metropolitan Deli, test tube shots of Jagermeister on the Red Light District pub crawl, the Moulin Rouge sex show, De Dampkring 'coffee shop' (as seen in Oceans 12), trams and bikes coming at you from all directions, the constant business and buzz of the city, and a personal favorite...getting to your hostel and having to hawl your 10 ton case up 20 floors of steep, narrow, winding stairs, bruising every limb along the way. Thanks Dam!

 

                           

 

After a hectic days travel, we searched for the closest decent restaurant we could find and came across a little Tapas bar, Cafe Del Mondo, facing De Waag (the old doctors public disection theatre) in Nieuwmarkt square. We grabbed a table outside and people watched as we ordered our first local taste of 'Krachtlager'. On the second drink, we were presented with a wonderful variety of Spanish meatballs, Patatas Bravas, Sweet and Spicy chicken wings, Lamb Sausages, and Chicken Satay. The perfect start to an, eventful, evening...

...We enrolled on the bar crawl and knocked back the Jagar. All was well, we were on about the 4th bar, and joint. Just, urm...nobody warned B that it wasn't correct proccedure to smoke 'coffee' and consume copious amounts of alcohol at the same time! Knees weak, she hit the floor and a bouncer rushed to carry her out. Rescued by the old sugared water and a large Mars bar technique, she was ready to go, back into the bar, but Rosie suggested home. Pity. The giggles hadn't even set in yet!

Maybe I had the munchies, or maybe it was the damp walls of the hostel, constant strong smell of marijuana in our room, and sharing with 8 men, that made me glad to search for some of Dam's food speciality.

Stampot.

Stampot is one of those real homely dishes, that closely compares to a Casserole; potatos (mashed with sauerkraut), beans, bacon, gravy, sausage and a meatball.

It was recommended that we visit De Keuken Van 1870, and as soon as I stepped in the door of this informal, traditional restaurant, I knew why. We were skurried to a raised table in the window that over looked the whole dinning area. 'Great!' I thought. 'I can see what everyone is ordering' :)

The menu was on a blackboard at the back of the room, I already knew what I came for, but I needed to have a nosey at what was on offer anyway. So I squeezed through the communal style room (long benches, with all kinds of parties, and people that didn't know eachother, who had had to squeeze together to let more customers in). It was busy, and people came and went in such speed, the music was drowned out by loud chatter, and plates were clanging. The restaurant and its' staff didn't concentrate on 'the perfect customer service', but more, 'lets get these people fed!'. They were giving tumblers out as wine glasses, the waitress slopped our plates infront of us, and we could hear the buzz from the kitchen coming into the dining area. Yet, the vibe was comforting, relaxing even, and I didn't want to leave, especially afer tasting their food! Potatos (mashed with sauerkraut), beans, bacon, gravy, sausage and a meatball...Rich and filling...who wouldn't want to scuff it down as quick as possible!? That...and we had a show to watch!

The morning after, hungover and well and truely flabbergasted at what people are willing to do on stage for money, we made our way to the station, stopping at Prins Heerlijk for breakfast, 10 ton case in hand.

As we ate muffins and drank our English tea, we reflected on the last 48 hours of craziness we'd just encountered, and the same tutors' philosophy came to mind "If you're not living life on the edge, you're taking up too much room". I smiled to myself. Two days in to our European tour...and it already felt like we were about to fall off!

Or maybe those weren't ordinary muffins!? . . .

Warm heart of Africa Continued

Upon leaving Dedza I decided to arrive at the next destination by foot, with 3 of the lads from our group and a guide (who had kindly commented that we looked weak, and that he would charge us extra if he had to carry any of us). I laughed at this, but felt his seriousness kick in, only an hour into the 12 mile steep decent from Bembeki Cathedral to Mua Mission.

In the heat of the morning, my legs were turning to jelly, rocks were rolling down the mountain side, and my thoughts were racing..."Why oh why did I sign myself up for this!??? Accomplishment? What if I never make it!? Just leave me here on the cliffside to die....it's fine! Honest!"

Even the trees looked as though they were clinging on for dear life!

"No, no, prove the guide wrong. You WILL make it! Stop being a princess and MAN UP B!!".

I mean, I've reached the two highest points in the UK, and I thrive at the thought of a good challenge, but how on earth had the guide already walked up to the top to meet us, barefoot, and with no food or water?!

I still remember the feeling of...Hmm, how to word it without saying THANK **** FOR THAT!...

...relief. Triumph even, and that pure 'oh my god I made it!' feeling. We were the fastest people that the guide had ever taken on the route. YES!! High fives all round.


After watching the locals bathe in the river below our lodges, we were taken to the Mua Mission museum to watch 3 hours of traditional tribal dances. These were incredible! The women performed with their babies on their backs (the next generation of dancers), this and the singing voices, stomping feet, clapping hands, and clanging bells all emphasised the energy that was put into each routine. It was intensely unique. I couldn't even get a clear photo!

It was time for a relax and a soak in the sun around the Malawian Lake. Here we took a boat trip, went snorkling, swimming and canoeing. The sun rose at 5am, so we pitched our sun loungers on the beach and gathered our blankets, ready to witness the beautiful scene that would be over in a couple of minutes - yes, the sun rises that fast over the mountains...and it was definitly worth the wait.

This accommodation was more luxurious, and had large buffets including fresh fruit, salads, and home comforts such as cereal - something my body was craving after so long. Although upper class, this did not keep away the wildlife of Africa! Baboons, pitched outside our room one morning, leaving us to miss breakfast due to being shut in our room, the cockroach, the ant infestation, endless amounts of spiders, and the bats that had kindly set camp in our ceiling beams.

After sampling the local gin one morning I decided to join others on a banana-boat ride...

...it's safe to say I was sober after hitting the cold water at that speed! It is rumoured that Malawian Gin doesn't contain the depressant that our gin does...so I took full advantage of that :) Not that I needed an excuse.

Chambo was the main thing I ate at the lake; a beautiful coloured fresh water fish that is hunted for it's delicious taste, as well as for the tank. It was one of the groups birthdays while we were there, and the hotel staff prepared a HUGE cake for the group...

...we each had a slice, and gave the remainder to the village people living just outside the complex. Which I think they appreciated.


Other exciting parts of the trip included a night in a safari park, where we got close to hippos, crocodiles, watched beautiful wildlife and went to the waterside for 'sundowners'. Blissful.

On the last day at this location, I woke at 5am to go inside the gates on a tracking walk. After the elephant charge the night before I liked the feeling of risk, and was overly excited that this may happen again (we were warned to run zig zag through bushes, away from the elephant, if it did). But sadly it didn't...Although, my friend did touch elephant poo! EWWW!

We were given the option of paying extra and going into the rhino enclosure. Bearing in mind that it is acre upon acre of land and the chance of us seeing one was slim to none; not even the park rangers had seen one so far that year, even at the minimal chance, I was totally up for it! Coming to the end of our tour around the enclosure, I was not happy, we had seen antelope, birds, other wildlife, but not so much as a giraffe! I love giraffes. I would have been satisfied paying more just to see one and happily give up on the rhino.

Then...we spotted a giraffe! After 10 minutes of watching this elegant creature striding through its' natural habitat (Yes, I like David Attenborough) we decided to drive back to the rest of the group, who were waiting with our bags to move on to the next destination.

The truck suddenly jolted to a stop, and the park keeper told us to be quiet as he slowly rose his hand to point yet another antelope out to us...GREAT!

We followed the tip of his finger into the wilderness, and low and behold, behind the antelope was a rhino. The FIRST EVER sighting of that year!!! My tutor (Sara), in tears, had been in this enclosure 3 times before and had never experienced this. I wanted to savour this moment forever...but of course, had forgotten my camera. Sods law! Once back at the camp we raced out of the truck to tell the others. Well. Rub it in really.


We arrived at Lujeri Tea Plantation at about 6pm the same day, and settled in with a home cooked meal by Phil (one of my tutors) and the house staff.

Phil is one of those people that can provide fantastic conversation with anybody he meets, he's down to earth, and likes to eat with his hands. His enthusiasm when teaching me gastronomy helped a lot towards wanting to become a food writer.

After dinner, we (the students) played 'Ring-of-Fire'. I have never laughed at a drinking game so much, and after Geof was sick, he, like a man, carried on drinking.

The next day we took a drive through the tea fields to a mountain, watching the women pick tea leaves by hand was something new to me, it made me feel elated.

Why? I don't know why...maybe it was the smell of tea in the air! I made sure that I brought two big bags of it home with me.

When we reached Mt Mulanji, we walked through trees, crop fields, villages, and paths that were a bit..."snaky" (full of snakes). Then we made our way over rocks that would have been in the middle of a gushing waterfall in wet season, and discovered, like the scene from The Beach, the fresh water pools that had been left drying out in the sun...although not warmed by it!

We had a dip, a quick dip. It was shockingly freezing! Since then, I have not wimpered when I dip my toes into cold water.

On our way back to Lilongwe we made a pit stop at Dedza Pottery, for their famous tea and a slice of cheesecake. Upon leaving, we purchased the Malawian delicacy (a stick of field mice)...

...Most people would be horrified at even the thought of eating these...they still have their eye balls, fur, guts and tail, but, the gannet that I am, I was willing to try them...but my tutor wouldn't let me.

With one evening remaining the group were in low spirits; half couldn't wait to get home, and the others just wanted to stay in Africa for the rest of their lives. I being one of the latter. I never expected to be so influenced by the African way of life. I've always been one who wouldn't try anything new, and I felt as though I'd accomplished a life times worth of things in just 16 days. These experiences, along with the beautiful climate and scenery are surprisingly not what gives Malawi it's name 'The Warm Heart of Africa', but the people.

With their friendliness and warm smiles, they are what has the lasting effect on its visitors. What the country lacks in economical terms, they certainly make up for in riches of people...and with knowing that, this memory will stay with me forever.

The Warm Heart of Africa

So, what better place to start than Africa?!


The university had this planned for a while and I was looking forward to it with great enthusiasm. I thought I was different, daring even, and above all...free!

Malawi is one of the poorest places in the world, with the economy reling heavily on tobacco and agriculture exports, it has been only in the last 10 years that the government have recognised this as an issue and have been trying to promote tourism. And so, our group visited Dedza, in southern Malawi, in order to research the potential tourism and provide customer skills training in the hope to significantly alleviate poverty in the area.

None of us knew what to expect, and we had been warned of 'serious culture shock'.


After a loooooong flight and seeing Mount Kilimanjaro from the air, we arrived at Panjira Lodge. 'Wow!' I thought...'this IS basic, and run down', although not as bad as I had anticipated. The sun went down pretty fast in Malawi, and the first thing we noticed were the sheer amount of glowing stars; I had never seen anything like it! It was beautiful. The town was scary to be alone in at night, mainly due to having no street lights, and being the only white people there, and we felt a little uneasy with our new surroundings. When we returned to the lodge, we were all extremely tired, so settled down with a few beers and ate.

Eating at Panjira Lodge. Our tutor Sara, had warned us about the variety...or lack of. So, the choices were; chicken with chips, fish with chips, beef stew with chips, chips with chips, beef stew with rice, chicken with rice, fish with rice, beef stew with nsima (a starchy, mashy, paste) genuinly eaten with the hands. Although this limited choice may spell disaster for some, it felt good to experience what limitations the locals have when it comes to access and cost of different products. It's safe to say, I craved fresh salad and vegetables after 3days.

One of the girls that was on the trip with us didn't like bones or skin on her food....so she obviously found it very hard to eat the chicken or the fish that were presented...

...luckily I have no problem with food or I would have been starving!


The job we went went to do, was to collect information for the VisitDedza charity website; which allows people all over the world to see that Dedza is a beautiful destination with lots to offer (Safari, lake activities, Rock Art sites, and being a relativly safe place for tourists to visit). The aim was to then conduct training sesssions at the new visitors centre, for the Chongoni Rock Art sites. The centre was going to provide tourists with information on the local area, associating local craftspeople, by providing workshops for visitors and also acting as the start point for guides. All staff would be local townspeople.
Two years into being built, we arrived, keen to look inside and train the employees, so imagine our surprise to see it barely even started!

When we questioned the reason, it was said to be due to government funds being needed in other areas, such as education, and local people taking the supporting beams; to be used as firewood. Whether the visitors centre will be used enough is also one worth asking; with it being so far out of the town centre (NOT walking distance), and this being the provided transport...

...no seatbelts, crazy driving, god forsaken bumpy dirt tracks, and the road being inaccesible by car in wet season....we are skeptical.
We were taken to 2 Rock Art sites. Only 4 out of 127 are open to the public and are very hard to locate without a guide as they are still used in ceremonies. Villiage children ran behind our jeeps and crowded round us...calling out 'Azungo! which literally translates as 'white man'. We talked about favorite lessons at school and their homelife, mainly farming. The group took a lot of photos, which every child wanted to then look at themselves, a site I don't think they often see, due to not having glass windows or mirrors within the home. The locals seemed overly happy to see us, and especially seemed impressed that I knew how to play a simple version of their 'seed game' (a game I was taught by my Nana when younger).

It was discovered that the people of Malawi generally do not understand tourists, or why they would want to walk 10miles to see a view, just to say they had walked the path out of freewill, or why visitors would buy an everyday pot or pan as a souvinier.
After the research days the group planned a training day, which took place at our accomodation, we had decided, along with the NorwichDedza charity chairman, that it would be best to train the local business peoples and the to be visitor centre staffs on how to deal with tourists. As a result, these people were rewarded with certificates, and our session really did seem as though it had a positive effect on the people who attended. Although, I am not so sure that the visitor centre staffs will remember our advice for when the centre is complete.


Feeling that we had completed what we had set out to do, we dropped our donations to the local schools (a box each of footballs, pens, pencils, workbooks etc). They were so grateful they didn't have to kick around a make-shift plastic-bag ball any longer. 

Other perks of Dedza town were; climbing Dedza mountain, then taking the 'ridge walk' to the summit, of which only 7 of the group made it. So proud of myself!

And visiting the Dedza Pottery, known for it's famous handcrafted tableware and the tea it serves. This is where I first tasted the local beer 'Kuche Kuche', accomponied by my first ever tasting of goat, so tender it just fell from the bone, with such a rich taste. Probably the same goat's head we had seen hanging from the market the day before.

We had been daring enough to go to the back stalls, and saw hanging animal heads, witch doctors, and a rastafarian with one eye propsed to me. Eventful...for a market day!


So many amazing memories! But the main one I picture when thinking back to my experience in Dedza town is the pure kindness and welcomingness of the people who live there. They have nothing, yet they are so happy... we, as westeners, say that Africa is behind in development, but maybe it doesn't do us good, maybe we have not benefited; we are greedy, and when we get what we want, we no longer need it. One thing that I always make sure of from Africa onwards, is that I eat everything on my plate when my mum puts it infront of me.

As my Nana always used to say "Waste not, want not".


All in all, I think I learnt a lot more from Malawian people than what I taught them!

Itchy Feet

Crappy relationship after crappy relationship, then settling into a 4 year stint, holding down two part time jobs, and gaining my first class honours degree. I was set on becoming a food writer and I thought I had it all. 

So why was I so unhappy? 

It had been a turbulent couple of years; the birth of my baby sister, the death of my Granddad, plans to move house, achieving my degree, winning student of the year (yes I'm a geek, and proud), decided on the future career, fully emerged myself in everything to do with food, and just purchased the car of my dreams. Ups and downs of course, but still, none of these things explained or justified how I felt....

Trapped. Fidgety.

I knew I didn't want to stay in the small town I had grew up in and yes, I wished I was paid more (doesn't everybody)....but I loved both of my jobs and I was settled with my boyfriend. We seemed happier than ever; having just been for a romantic weekend in Rome, and planning to move just outside the town as soon as I had the money. 

Anyone else would have counted them selves lucky....but noooooo, not me.

Hence the title of this blog. 

"Itchy feet" was usually a term I associated with wedding plans, but with none of those on the horizon my itchyness was identified on my 21st birthday. I opened a small gift handed to me by a family friend, known for her thoughtful and unique presents, to discover a single silver coin embossed with a map of the world. I flipped it over and read "The world is your oyster". 

And there it was...the dilemma had been solved. The penny had dropped (excuse the pun)...I was not only hungry for more in terms of food, but hungry for more in general. In life. 

So, with the coin in my back pocket I began my quest; fuelled by my love for food and, in the words of a dear friend..."In search of something spectacular".