ah decision time

So- I have been in Australia for just over eight months now and the time to leave is looming- I have to be out of the country by the 18th August.

The thing is, I don't think I'm ready to leave yet and I am torn as to what to do about it. I have a couple of options- none of which I really like. The first one is that I go back to my old company an get sponsored, sponsorships are meant to last for four years which kind of freaks me out because then the time I will get back to England I will be 28. On the other hand if I work here for like 2 years then I think I can apply for Permanent Residency which would be better.

The other option is that I wait out my current job for a while and hope and pray that sponsorship comes along but in all honesty I think the likelyhood there is pretty low.

I guess then its down to the reasons why I want to stay here, well to be honest theres a couple of reasons but none of them are particularly stable. So in no particular order;

1- I've met an Australian guy- I have been seeing him for the past 7 months and we kind of just date- we go out for dinner alot but were not in a 'relationship' because well basically those words freak him out. He's a very complex creature but I have fallen head over heels and I can't stand the thought of leaving him.

2- Overall I like my life here- Sydney is like a second home and I feel safe and comfortable- I have a great group of friends and I meet new people everyday. The downside to that I guess I don't know how long they will be around for and if I take my old job back I will have to move into an apartment and I wont be meeting new people everyday...hmm.

3- Im trying to make this more about me by going out and having more of a life outside work infact im looking to start Roller Derby classes and I go out with the girls a few times a week for manicures and a few beers (or cocktails if were feeling posh).

I think in an ideal world I'd like to come home for a few weeks, so I can see my beautiful neices and my amazing family and friends (who by the way are totally kick ass and I know will support me either way I decide). And then I want to come back- what I hate is the fact that if I come back to Australia I cant change my mind- if everything goes wrong and in another 8 months I find myself in a flat, on my own because my friends have gone. My guy isnt interested in me (or things still continue at this snails pace) and i hate my job all I will want to do is fly back to the Court Farm Inn and have a big ol' bottle of wine with Marple.. and maybe some chips... with mayonnaise.

I think another thing Im scared about is that if I come home I wont have a job- if i manage to find one in devon I may hate it and then im left either living with the rents or on my own somewhere.. most of my friends arnt around anyway and im sat there wondering what could have been if only I had the bottle to stay in australia.

Ok so- writing this is helping I think- so if I go back to England I have to basically start all over again in terms of work and a social life- and I have that here already. Not many people like their job- and i can pay my way out if i massively hate it after 2 years and then i should be able to apply for residency or citizenship. Its like uni- i didnt go to uni for the degree because i wanted to go to drama school, I went for the life experience and i freaking loved it. Maybe thats what Im doing here- apart from instead of lectures I have work and instead of being poor i will be making decent money.

this is a horrible and freaking scary decision to make and im freaking out and have been unable to sleep until around 5am which is an issue. I need to make this decision very soon.

Will keep you updated I guess.

Shhhhhhhhhhhhhiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitttttttttttttttttttttttttt

OK I think I am properly freaking out for the first time since I arrived here. I am leaving Sydney in ten days and there is so much going around in my head I kind of want to either run or curl up and cry for a while. So... I thought I would just voice them here as a kind of therapy.

In no particular order of what is scaring me the most-

1- I am leaving everything again- my flat, a lot of my friends, my job and generally the life I have built here. Everything that I did and the structure I built when I got here- things that made me feel safe, happy and secure- I am leaving behind. My housemates are going to be hard to leave- we have all been here for each other when we have each had our ups and downs and general bad days. Even when I have had the worst day ever I would come back and eventually feel better and laugh about it because we would either have a few bevvies or chat about something stupid. So they will be difficult to leave.

2- I have to hand my notice in on Monday- I'm going there early so I can hopefully catch my manager and mentor when there arnt many people around. By the sounds of it- from what I have heard and seen I think they just walk you out of the building there and then. I would be fine with that as the job has devoured me anyway but I just hate having to hand my notice in. I like the people I work with its just not what I want to do anymore.

3- There is so much to sort out before I go- I need to ditch my suitcase and get a backpack sorted that isn't going to break the bank as I will have no income for the first time since I was about 15. That's freaking scary enough as it is.

4- I just had to get rid of way over half of my wardrobe- its wayyy to expensive to send back home and I feel a little of my identity has gone with it. I now own the basics which in a way is liberating and I am sure I will feel that soon but for now it feels like I have been robbed.

5- I will miss my flat in general- true its got bed bugs, a faulty fridge and broken blinds but I made that my new home- its so close to everything and I will miss the comfy feeling I get here.

6- I have been fortunate/ unfortunate to have had someone in my life recently and although we are just friends, if I miss him after two days of not seeing him already I am worried that 4  months may hurt more than I would like it to.

There is probably more than that but that's only the thoughts I can make out at the moment. OK so six issues there, I shall counteract them with six things that I am happy about/ grateful for/ excited about.

1- I am about to go on the best adventure ever- 5 weeks with my friends in a camper van only taking the stuff we can fit in a rucksack- loads of activities like surf lessons, Australia zoo, sailing around the Whitsundays, scooteroo! I have missed the girls so much and I can't wait to see them again.

2- I have family and friends that are so supportive and proud of me actually doing things that scare me and just living life.

3- I had such a nice skype date with Miss Marple earlier. I have missed her face so much and it was like I was in the room with her- even though we haven't spoken properly in a while nothing was awkward or difficult. Our confusing love spans the globe!

4- I had such a nice day- I not only spoke to the Marple but I listened and sung along to some of the best musical tunes of all time until I decided to get in the shower, go shopping, do some cleaning and make some cheese and herb scones! Ideal Saturday.

5- For the first time ever I don't have a proper plan- I don't know what il be doing when the 5 weeks are up- hopefully finding some farm work so I can get my second year or I may go to New Zealand or Asia or Fiji or wherever- the world is my freaking Oyster. If I want to go home I can, if I want to go to anywhere in the freaking world- I am only a plane journey away.

6- I know when I do come home I will be able to arrive to some amazing friends and well the best family I could ask for, also I will get to meet the new addition to my family for the first time!

Well I hope I didnt freak out any of my readers here- I just needed to vent. I am having a chilled out one tonight and will feel better in the morning I am sure of it.

Ok- love you all x

this has not been checked for errors- apologies in advance!

Ok, screw it I may as well start from scratch- when this movie finally gets made there will be incredibly large gaps which I shall fill in using a montage of photographs- much an episode of Darkplace.
I currently have the odd combination of a winter cold and severe sunburn- which means I cannot wear any clothes that in any way touch my body but all I want to do is wear a big ol' woolly jumper, a scarf and drink a hot toddy. In reality if I did this out here I would soon die of heat exhaustion.
Although I am severely burnt and like the pain to both my shoulders being clamped by GHD's- It is by all accounts the coldest start to a Sydney summer in 51 years. It is by no means cold though- the 'cold' I can stand as it rarely drop below 20 degree's- the rain on the other hand is a different matter and officially does my nut in.
There is not a lot happening at present- I am half led half slouched on the sofa with my housemate Brummie acting as my foot stool. There is some god awful space like monster movie on TV which nobody is paying much attention to. Perhaps this is because the French Revolutionaries are playing a very animated game of "tarot" pronounced "tarrow" which is a card game using a weird deck of 78 cards.
Our flat is consistently uncomfortably warm so we are all lounged around wearing tank tops and shorts and the male revolutionaries are topless- not going to lie- I have seen worse views- they keep themselves nicely tanned and toned and makes me want to get up in the morning that little bit faster. The fan is providing some cooling air and is half blowing the tinsel and lametta off the Christmas tree. We have done our best to make our flat look traditional and festive but I think we are all finding it hard to get into the Christmas spirit due to the lack of our individual Christmas routines and crippling cold we all are used to at this time of year.


I think I have written as much as I can about the current situations and goings on- so what I will do is make note of a few odd/ obscure/good and bad things I have noticed over the last 4 months.


TV and Averts- TV itself is horrendously out of date- at prime time it would not be strange to see Happy Days, Loveboat and the Brady Bunch live on the few digital channels we can get in our apartment. It is only recently where we have discovered a channel called 'Go' provides us with some much needed Big Bang Theory and the occasional episode of the Inbetweeners.


As for the adverts, some are simply mental and some just highlight the few cultural differences we have. The damn right odd ones are those that promote a product but has no brand attachment- they have adverts telling us to eat bananas, eggs and red meat. I could understand if it was promoting a brand or a shop but no- just saying we should eat meat?! Mental.


The cultural difference is highlighted in the festive adverts- where the "perfect gift" is a pair of surf boardies or a BBQ set. Upsettingly there is also a lack of Coca-Cola advert and though Toys R Us does exist- the advert doesn’t. Bad times my friends.


As you walk around Sydney you will see buses covered in tinsel and posters of Santa on a surf board- I hope that never becomes the norm in my mind as it’s just crazy!


Well… I say "as you walk around Sydney..." but the city is actually difficult to walk in as every two metres there is a set of traffic lights which appears to know when you are in a hurry and turn just as you approach the edge of the pavement. Honest to god the majority of these can take about 5 minutes to change again which makes it a mission to get anywhere on time.


Another strange thing I have noticed is the copious amount of sex shops, massage parlours and blatant brothels around the city. The shops are pure filth but are definitely worth a visit for the sheer comedy value.


Well it is getting late and I have 4 more days left of work to go before Christmas so I should probably get to bed. I have been planning my Christmas-day beach outing with the best back packers in the world- it will be strange but hopefully hot so we can swim, BBQ and party the day away!


Much love to all at home- I will try and write again before Christmas but we all know how bad I am at this!
xxx

Better late than never

Ok pipe down, I know its been a while and my great plans of writing a daily blog has failed miserably in the first week. In my defence I have thought about writing this entry for quite some time. In fact on numerious occasions I have sat on the top bunk of my hostel bed with my computer on ready to rock this blog, then I get distracted by facebook and youtube clips of Stephen Merchant and Ricky Gervais. Before I know it a few hours have gone by and my battery is dying and my poor blog remains updated. Dont judge me I'm getting around to it now.

Ok where to begin... I will start from the rest of my journey over here I guess. So I got off the train at Reading and dragged my ridiculously heavy suitcase around the station and up and down two lots of lifts- I then waited whilst some young yet harmless looking chav devoured a subway sandwich in front of me and was left with a large glob of mayonaisse on the side of his lip. As a rule I am not a fan of people and did not wish to get into converstion with this tracksuit clad teenager so I left him to it and did my best not to make eye contact through fear of laughing or gagging. Next was a pleasant train journey to Gatwick, I spent most of that trip worrying about my suitcase taking up too much of the aisle (there were no racks) and hoping nobody would put drugs in there- perhaps an irrational fear but a fear none the less.

Gatwick was relatively pain free- I navigated my way to the north terminal- found Cafe Nero after I checked in and sat there eating my tomato and mozerella panini and making my final telephone calls to home and my best friend- for the puropse of this blog we shall call her Miss Marple as oddly enough that is her fashion icon. We both sounded miraclously calm on the phone and we taked about her first day in her new funky job and my imminent departure. Just as that call was wrapping up the announcement came on informing me that I was ready to board.

The first flight to Dubai was realatively smooth running- I had a plan that I would stay awake for this leg of the journey in order to me to be able to sleep through the entirety of the next flight and arrive in Sydney at 6am fresh faced and ready to rock. This in retrospect was a bad plan. I did inded stay awake- I watched the entire first series of the IT Crowd and a really depressing film containing Natalie Portman- the name of the film and rather large sections of it are beyond my knowledge as I kept getting in to conversation with a nice Jamacian man called Alexander who was sat beside me. Conversations with him were varied from the current state of Britian to the comic book he would like to write, about the customers he meets when he delivers the Tesco food vans. My chats with Alexander became more and more frequent as the flight went on as he downed mini bottle after mini bottle of London Gin, it was only when we were flighing over Iraq and he was saying he can see rockets flying past did I put my headphones firmly in and played the sleep card.

After what seemed like an eternity we arrive in Dubai- it is around 7am their time yet as soon as the doors of the plane opened I was hit by the intense heat and humidity of the country. We all crammed on to a shuttle bus which just circled for about 20 mins until we got eventually got off what must hae been 50 meters from the plane. I was too tired and by that point too hot and sweaty to care so I just followed the masses and hoping they were also catching a connecting flight. I must have done something right as I found myself my second departure lounge with people spraying me with duty free perfume as I wander aimlessly waiting for time to pass. I wasn't sure if they were spraying me because they wanted me to buy the stuff or because I was beginning to smell like milk left in the heat... It really could have been either.

Ok great- soon enought the second flight was boarding I shuffled on like the zombie I was and found my seat, I was sandwiched between a sweet Scottish lady and an Australian girl who honest to god, to my amusement, spoke just like Jai'me of Summer Heights High. I immediately reclined my seat- threw a blanket over my face and fell asleep for what it felt like a good hour. I woke up and looked out the window, and saw that the plane was just beginning to taxi its way to the runway. When that realisation hit me I realised that either time has lost all meaning or I am going insane. That was a close call at this point. Hours turned into seconds and I never thought I would feel land under my feet again. I would like to write more about how I felt and what I did on the final leg of this journey but it all seems really hazy now- If someone told me I was on the plane for a whole week I would have believed them.

Right so the stressful, soul detroying part of the journey was coming to an end as we reached Sydney airport with relatively little turbulance. Now the excitement and nerves were kicking in. Holy crap I have just flew to the other side of the world where I know nobody, I dont know where anything is, I dont know what my jobs going to be like or if people are going to like me. I clung on to my new Australian friend as she showed me where to go, what to say and she was going to meet me at the carosel to pick up the luggage. I had been telling her for a good hour before about my fear of not getting let in to the country and the embarrasment of having to turn around and get a flight straight back home again and I would see the confused and sympathetic looks of friends and family when I get back to the village. She had calmed me down relatively well and I got through passport control, security checks, luggage retrieval and through to the exit with ease.

It took two shuttle buses to get me to Westend Backpackers in central Sydney- I was feeling a lot calmer at this point so just chilled and observed Australia pass me by. Before I knew it I was having a battle with my suitcase and being pointed towards the entrance of the hostel. I turned around and thanked the bus driver, he smiled, winked, said god save the queen in the strongest Aussie accent I have ever heard and then drove off, I like this place already.

I was given my keys and shown to the lift to take me to my 4 share dorm. It was just gone 10 in the morning in Sydney so I quickly went on facebook, told my friends and worriers that I arrived safe and passed out and slept for a few hours. When I woke up I was alone in my room and decided I should probably go and do something fun or productive. I got speaking to a couple of backpackers on the now famous Westend Step and they told me the way to get to the shops and the Opera House and gave me a map so I wouldn't get lost. So off I went on my merry way taking in my surroundings with a newly formed spring in my step. Thinking it was fate when I saw a busker playing The Beatles "Here Comes the Sun" as I looked up and saw nothing but deep blue sky. About 20 mins later I came to the end of the main highstreet and low and behold in front of me was the Sydney Opera House. It is by no means overrated and I really think it was only then that I realised where I was. The excitement went to my head and I tricked myself into thinking I was a strong independant woman and decided to go to the nearest resturant, order some fancy food and a glass of wine- sit by myself and enjoy it. In retrospect this would have been fine if there is nobody else around and I was left to eat my pizza (Ok not that fancy and there was bacon in the sauce but don't judge me) and drink my wine in complete solitude, the thing that made me feel awkward was the looks that strangers give you, it is a stange mixture of sympathy, pity and smugness. You may call me paranoid and self concious but I know what I saw.

I picked myself back up and sauntered back to the Hostel where I was told that the best way to get over jetlag is to go out drinking til the early hours- tonight happened to be the Party Bus night where for $30 you get a live DJ on the bus, 5 clubs with 5 free drinks. Just the thought of this made me want to die inside, I was feeling rough from a combination of tiredness and rank plane food and all I wanted to do is curl up in bed and fall in and out of conciousness. However, this girl was being nice to me and I saw her as definate friend material and as a single girl on her own in Australia I was in no position to turn down a friend. So 7pm came round- met the crew on the step and off I went to experience my first night out in Sydney....

Ok I know that only takes me up until 7pm on Thursday night, and I know its the following Thursday now but I need to go to work in a bit so Il post this now and catch you up with the rest later.... I will I promise.

Much love x

Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree

Well, I foolishly made the mistake of telling a few friends that I was going to write a blog about my adventures, misadventures and general feelings about working and exploring Australia. I suppose deep down I thought it would be a good and therapeutic thing to do but knowing myself as I do I assumed it was something I would never get around to, however as my friends have now been mentally casting the film version of this blog I feel obliged to give it a go. Considering I only have a basic grasp of the English language I feel they may well be expecting a little too much of me.
Right, to the point I guess. I have just got on the first of two First Great Western trains to Gatwick Airport from a small ish town in South Devon. This is the first leg of an approximate 30 hour journey to Sydney, Australia.
Why I am going is indeed a good question and one that I am yet to fully answer myself. I made a somewhat rash decision to go a few months ago whilst visiting my brother in China- the thought of me going from that amazing place and getting back in to the same routine depressed me and I wanted to shake things up a bit. So I considered my options- applied for my visa and as luck would have it I also managed to get a job secured before I left as a Recruitment Consultant in central Sydney.
Things have moved scarily fast and here I am on an extremely bumpy train feeling rather nauseous due to a combination of nerves, rank coffee, travelling backwards and looking at this computer screen. To the right of me I have one large black suitcase, which I would like to say (for dramatic purposes) contains my life, in actuality it contains what is left of my wardrobe. I have managed to get it up on to the trains designated racks and I cant help but continuously stare at it- protecting it- like one of the other passengers are going to run off with it at the next stop, hurling my denim shorts and frayed leggings down the platform.
In a way I am grateful for feeling as sick as I do, as most of my energies are concentrated on not throwing up on the kind looking man sitting opposite me, and not on feeling sad about the goodbyes I have had to make to my friends and family or the crippling nerves about what lies ahead.
That said, I am going to sign off for now, I've needed a wee for like an hour and I have to face the dilemma of what I should do with my bags-do I take them with me down the carriage or to take the gamble of leaving it on the seat?! Argh!

Much love
xxx