Fun things to do during the revision period (definitely not including revision)

As I reach the last day of April, it appears some sort of alarm bell has gone off in everybody's head regarding the upcoming nuptials of exams and students. (I thought a wedding reference would lighten up the laborious process of exams). So exams, what are they? I would define them as being agonizing hand-cramping hours of trying to remember every little detail of every little thing you've learnt all year, with the added pressure of a clock ticking down your minutes and the added threat of failing out of life if you fail a uni exam. Regretfully, the only sign of revision in my room has been setting out the books I will eventually have to re-read. I also skim read a past paper. ONE. Well, I don't see the point of rushing into revising to be honest. My first exam is still a MONTH away- yes, when everybody else is finished within the next few weeks, I won't even have started. Botheration!

So, as I have no intention of over-exerting myself with revising, particularly when I have to answer questions that'll have no impact whatsoever on my life, anybody else's life, or the world as a whole, but rather ludicrous things like 'How did Shakespeare's beard length influence his Elizabethan plays compared with his Jacobean plays?' All I can think is 'WHO CARES???' And I suppose this is a bad way to be for an English Lit student but I'm sooooooo close to being finished and getting out of education that I've just reached that inevitable point. Anyway, before I get carried away on a tangent, here's a few things to do INSTEAD of revision.

1) Learn a new hobby/skill/language. This is a favourite of mine. What better time can there be than when you're finally succeeding at focusing your mind for the first time in the academic year to learn something new? Over the past two years, I've self-taught myself Spanish, improved my German and taken up amateur photography. This year I might become a sculptor, who knows!

2) Eat. There's no better time to eat like Henry VIII (or insert other fat monarch here) than when you're stuck indoors gaining a grey pallour and not getting much exercise. It'll give you an excellent opportunity in the future to get annoyed with yourself for ruining your long-sought but never obtained holiday body. I find myself turning into Barefoot Contessa (or insert other plump TV chef here) and creating elaborate meals and exclaiming things like 'The added rosemary was genius- GENIUS!' and 'This definitely needs a little chilli powder.'

3) Exercise. This kind of counteracts all the hard work of the second idea but if you're as lucky as I am to have incredibly slow metabolism, it's probably won't cut down your king-ly love handles that much. Go outside. Go to the gym. Go swimming (haha NOT a chance after what happened in my last post!!!). Wind or rain- be out there. Scorn the buses of peasants. You're better than transport. You have legs! Unless you don't....ohhh, awkward! Even if it just means lifting a tiny tiny dungbell half-heartedly while watching a talkshow, it still counts! And let's face it, you got out of revising just a little bit, right?

4)Become a secret operative. You are James Bond, baby. Twitch those curtains. Rock in a chair in front of your window. Your neighbours are DEFINITELY going to be doing something interesting. Even if they're at work. Strain your eyes for a glimpse of something suspicious in the neighbourhood. Report it to your friends. Your enemies. Whoever will listen. Wear dark glasses. Roll across the floor holding a pretend gun. Listen to the theme from Mission Impossible on your iPod. That's it. You'll catch the great garden gnome stealer if you just keep watching. Or whoever it is that keeps sending us the SAME TAKEAWAY MENU!!!!

5)Gossip. There's no better time to make a few new enemies than when you should be keeping quiet and reading your books. Just keep talking. Talk to anyone who wants to talk to you. Talk about anyone. Become your own downfall. If you just keep talking eventually you'll find a topic you haven't discussed before. Everybody does it. Why revise and be quiet when you can not revise and be a terrible gossip??

So, there you have it. That's what I'll be doing rather than revising. What'll you be doing? Better go, I just heard a car door slam and those curtains aren't going to twitch themselves!

QOTR

Here comes the sun?

Weather in Greece

This entry is from an utterly miserable windy, rainy tragedy of a country. While I listen to the delightful sound of rain ricocheting off my windows, I think to myself 'Ah, Bliss! I'm so very blessed to live in a country which offers such a wide range of weather conditions: if our days aren't filled with hailstones, it's hair-tangling wind, or snow storms, or heaven forbid some hazy clouds where, if one should squint way up into the distance, might spy a spot of actual blue skies. Blessed are we indeed!' When you are as blessed as I am to have hair resplendent of William Wallace (you can take my lands, but you cannae control my hair!) you really come to wish that you lived in a country that wasn't quite so windy!

Weather in Italy

So, being an inquisitive sort- and an all-around legend (although that's neither here nor there!), I've taken it upon myself to make a study of some current temperatures across our glorious range of European countries. That's how fair my study is, not even stepping out of the continent, keeping it only two hours maximum time difference.

Weather in Malta

As I'm sure you can see, by my beautiful print-screening abilities, it's all looking nice and sunny. Everybody is well and truly loving life, up in the 20 something degrees. Nothing like a nice bit of clean, hot, humid free air, right? That's something else I have noticed about the so called warmer temperatures (wherever they've gone now I couldn't possibly say) of our so called country. When it does feel warm, it's not the nice warm of other countries that feels clean and pure and comforting. Ohhhhhhhh no! It's more akin to being in a huge invisible jar which someone has burped into. Dirty, trapped, germ-ridden air.

Weather in Cyprus

I'm terribly sorry for the graphic image above but that's the exact thought I had while I was walking earlier on. That's another story though. Walked to the sports centre to go for a nice swim. As soon as I left the front door it literally started raining. I just thought 'Today is going to be a perpetually moist day, isn't it?' and got on with things, not being one to wimp out of extreme weather. Of course, by the time I experienced burp jar syndrome, I was already incredibly damp and longing for dryness. Somehow swimming wasn't as fun when you couldn't dry off in the sun afterwards. When you have to return to the 4 degree cold and mizzle it's downright fantastic. That's another thing. When you go to an actual sports centre swimming pool, there

Weather in Switzerland

's an unspoken expectation that you have to swim length after length after length. In Barcelona I was more likely to be found happily mushroom floating or carrying children around singing like Barney the Dinosaur (although he had the whole short arm syndrome so don't know if he was able to carry anyone. Safet to say, in Barcelona, I didn't find myself having to walk home with my arms bent like wings because they siezed up somewhere between getting out of the pool and attempting to put clothes on. My friend Josie and I have spent the remainder of today whimpering in pain, watching day time tv, our arms curled up in weird contortions to get comfy, thinking with extreme dread of trying to get out of bed tomorrow morning.

Weather where I am...

So here we are, our weather. The one thing I'll say in it's favour, if you still desire to stock up on sun cream or summer clothes, there's probably some good discounts, because let's face it: nobody's getting a real tan in this country. Unless you're a tennis player, somehow in Wimbledon, they always get tanned!

Here's looking at you, last week in March. You were a brief summer....but you were awesome. Highlight of my summer was watching my dog trip over one of my shoes and then look back in confusion. I did chortle. That one day of sitting outside was magnificent. That temporary smell of everybody in the neighbourhood BBQ-ing was just what the doctor ordered.

Meanwhile in the U.K...

 So wrap up warm, folks. Summer is 'coming'. The 'sun' has got his hat on. Here comes the 'sun'. I'm feeling 'hot, hot, hot.'

Olé. Olé. Oléolé!

Brrrrr-illiant
QOTR

Sights and sounds of Scotland

So I've just arrived back last night at my house in Lancaster after a delightful week in Scotland with my sister. This is a little review of what I encountered.

 I was right up at the very north north east of Scotland, near Inverness, and some might argue that there's not much up there. That's fair enough. What was there, though, were plenty of RAF men, a top notch dentist (my sister) and some beautiful beaches.

The beach at Lossiemouth

 I really got a taste of what life was like for my sister. I met the people she works with, lived in her lovely house, we cooked together each night, she showed me all the local sights.

The people on the roads up there drive however the heng they like. I've never met such impatient drivers. The sheer capacity of overtakers was really quite startling.  We were following Paul the satnav man in the car and on the little map thing, as we crossed the bridge to the left, it looked like we were driving straight through the sea! It was terribly cool!

We made our way towards Inverness to see dolphins. I was really terribly excited at the prospect of spotting some lovely little dolphins and we raced towards the viewing point at the cusp of high tide. We parked the car next to several groups of old people with cameras on tripods and binoculars. This appeared to be a good sign that we might yet see some dolphins. However, the sea appeared to be rather turbulent, the rain was mizzling and we were sitting in our anoraks,straining our eyes desperately for a sighting. Quite a crowd was assembling around us, most over 60, and occasionally one elderly man would take a few pictures and we'd wonder whether we were about to meet the dolphins. Usually it was just a bird. Exciting! But as the crowd dispersed in frustration, something amazing happened: the dolphins legitimately showed up!! When my sister shouted, 'Look, dolphins!' I hurriedly jammed on my glasses to see them. Alas, although she pointed and said 'There's loads of them!' I just couldn't see them at all! So very frustrating...they were there, but I didn't see them!

The coast near Inverness

In other news, though, there were some very good times to be had in Scotland. I managed to resist eating haggis or anything battered, although there were opportunities a plenty! 

I met some very nice people along the way, as well as getting a free dental check up WIN!
I invented, refereed and commentated the entirety of the first ever doll version of WWE Smackdown for the entertainment of some children: I'm nothing if not original!

I learnt that trash TV is still a true love of mine, especially in the company of someone who knows you so well that you can reminisce with. 

Where the dolphins were...

Most of what I learnt on my trip to Scotland was that, in actuality, I am not entirely incapable of understanding Scottish accents, it is only Glaswegians who I can't understand apparently!

Whilst in a garden centre I seen a really funny moment. An old couple, I'm talking 70s at least, were sitting nearby. When the husband asked if they were leaving for tesco yet, his wife replied, 'I can't get up, we'll have to stay here.' The husband laughed and replied, 'I'm afraid you're getting old.' For some reason, this just really struck me as hilarious.

My sister and I, waiting for dolphins and laughing at the old people with tripods

It was really great to see my sister again as we haven't seen each other that much lately. When everybody moves away from home it's really sad. When you go from seeing your siblings every day to only by chance, or strategic planning, meeting up a couple of times a year, it's tough! I miss all the times you get to hang around and just watch TV and do nothing much. It's never the same when you meet up anymore because you know you're going to be parting ways but it's nice that you can just get back to your natural rhythm and you can do stupid things and your sister will help you out. It's nice, you know? 

I found my trip to Scotland to be all I dreamed and more. Aside from the expectations of a trip to the Highlands i.e. tartan, haggis, bagpipes, I found that it was a lot more (and not really any) of that. There were lots of really pretty things to be seen and there's definitely a lot to be said for small town living. Hearing RAF planes going overhead your house every morning gives a lovely sense of authenticity and action. Being wolf whistled at by dodgy grass cutters is just an unfortunate aside from pleasant trips around Norman castle ruins, old and beautiful. This was a lovely prelude to the beginning of my last EVER term of university.

One of those maniacs driving I was talking about...just kidding, it's even better: a dog with his paws on a steering wheel, legitimately giving me a 'Let's race' expression!

Airport soulmate

So, here's a bit of a story for you all.

I thought I should record it down before I begin to truly believe it never actually happened. I'd already be dubious, except for the fact that I've saved my plane ticket from the day along with a name and date so I know that there was a day. There was me. There was him. We did meet.

Now, this happens quite a lot to me that I only seem to meet really quality men when I'm travelling somewhere, never when I'm in one place. Only the poorer selections in my life seem to occur on dry land. Anyway, this occasion was different than all of the others! I truly believe that this was meant to be.

So here it goes, I'm going to chronicle the event, so I never forget.

The date was Saturday 24th March. I was travelling home to Ireland for my easter holidays. I got the train from Lancaster, where it was Saturday crazy and everybody was standing like sardines. Except for me. I found a little nook on the edge of first class where I propped up my suitcase and perched atop it. (That's right, atop!) The journey flew by, I had just had another job rejection letter and given up all hope, so I was reading some Jack London and inwardly growling. The lists of ways that civilisation had killed and been extinct were very soothing to my soul. I was just about to get off the train, upon arrival at the airport, and we were all assembling with our suitcases waiting for the doors to open. A young man, of about my age, stood next to me with his suitcase. He glanced at me and then said, in a delectable French accent, "Are you German?" The attention of the carriage all snapped towards me as I replied "No, I'm Irish" but I was flattered, and took it as a compliment about my long blonde hair.

As we got off the train, it seemed natural that we fell into easy conversation and walked together from the train station, getting an elevator up towards the terminals. I asked which Terminal he was flying from and he answered 3, much to my delight, as he was flying to Paris and therefore I assumed he'd be going from 1 or 2 as 3 is domestic flights. So, we progressed together towards check in, learning along the way that we both loved rugby, skiing, travelling, learning languages, that he was well travelled which I was envious of and that he desired to learn poetry and history and literature and was therefore envious of my degree.

I had never met someone who I was so in sync with. Everything one of us said, the other would reply "Me too!" It was like we were the same person. We were both scared of security. Neither of us could eat spaghetti. We were awkward jokers, misunderstood by our friends. I couldn't help but be delighted.

Of course, time was racing, when it usually dragged when I was alone in the airport. I felt a little thrill when I was waiting for him to check in, and seen him smile and thank me for waiting. We went through security and the security man knew we were together. I loved seeing his brown eyes beautifully crease while we talked. He talked about how he got bullied in school for being half-French, half Brazilian, I was quick to say I couldn't think of many things better. He talked about the unromantic side of Paris. I watched him talk. I'd never met a man with so much to say. It was dazzlingly refreshing!

Eventually, after having our lunch together, I had to go board my plane. Not wanting to stop talking, he walked me to my gate. It felt like a rom-com. But, ALAS!

He would happen to know another boy getting my plane. This boy would meander over and monopolise my dear boy's conversation. The crowd was hearding us home, home, home, away! I couldn't get in a word and they were talking of finances and markets and business and I wanted to make him smile one more time or make him declare "Me too!" with an amazed smile. I couldn't just let him slip away, when I only knew his first name, his degree, and that he went to my university (which is HUGE). I quickly scrolled my number on a piece of paper, along with my full name, and handed it to him, while the other boy continued talking on and on and on. I exchanged a brief longing look with the dear dear boy and then I had to board. His parting words were "Have a nice Easter!" I didn't even get a chance to say "Call me!" as so many girls have done before. I had to convey the sentiment with just one last glance and a smile. Will I ever hear from him? Probably not! There's nothing I can do about it, I cannot contact him. I can only hope he still remembers me after these few weeks of holidays.

One thing is for certain: with regards to the existence of soulmates, I've never been more convinced that they exist. And doubt I will be so beautifully convinced again.

QOTR

Tickets, tickets everywhere, yet not a single bargain

So lately I've been going on a continuous ticket splurge: planes, trains, buses and I thought I'd post about it because, my friends, I've have encountered several large problems with travel tickets.

1. Ever paid for extra weight in a suitcase?? It doesn't come cheap! The average cost seems to be an extra £10 per single kilogram you add! This really builds up! I wanted to check in two suitcases, as I am moving away INDEFINITELY but the cost of 40kgs was upwards of £150 and I just couldn't go for that! So, instead, I've had to just have a few extra kilos and I'll have to ship sallopettes/ski jackets and any other essential but really bulky items. Hassle!

2. Across the U.K. I've discovered it seems to be impossible to get a connecting flight. As I'm currently in Ireland, I was hoping to get a straight connection to London and then onwards to my nearest airport in Basel. Alas, keeping your luggage onboard to final destination seems to be actually impossible! I would have to pick it up at baggage reclaim in London and re-check in another time to get on the next flight, which means I would have to pay TWICE the extortionate excess-baggage rates. It was just too much! So instead, I'm going direct to Zurich from Dublin which means only one baggage charge BUT

3. I have to work foreign railway stations when I first touch down in a country. Now, I did G.C.S.E German so I just about remember that train station is bahnhof and that ticket is billette so I'm just hoping that this is enough to get me through. Of course, I have no clue what the word for baggage reclaim or arrivals is...I just have to hope that knowing I'm in a flugzeug will be quite enough.

Of course, as well as these points, which are minor in the big picture, I am so very very excited to have booked nearly all of my travel tickets for the next few months (except for my train in Zurich as it is too soon)

For the next few months, this is my travel plan:
*Right now, I am visiting my sister in the North of Scotland, near Elgin, which is very pretty and has lots of dolphins and beaches to be seen. I also was the stager of the first ever doll WWE Raw Smackdown tournament with two children. I am a lot of fun!
*Friday evening I am flying from Inverness to Manchester. Here I will be picked up by my friend Hannah and we shall be returning to university in Lancaster. After two months of exams in my last ever term (wayhey!)...
*Sunday 24th June, my mother shall arrive from Northern Ireland to pack up all of my things in my uni house. Sunday evening I shall catch a train to Leeds, suitcase in tow, and shall stay the night at my friend Josie's house.
*Monday 25th June, Josie and I are off to BARCELONA!!!!! Three weeks of sun, sea, and teaching English to children. It's gonna be AMAZING!
*Monday 16th July, I return home to Northern Ireland to do a few loads of washing and ironing and finish planning my packing.
*Thursday 19th July, I'm off with my mum and dad back on a plane to Manchester, then a train to Lancaster, where we shall be staying in a central Bnb because....
*Friday 20th July, today I graduate! Mazel tof! Here's hoping with a 2:1 although my Creative Writing portfolios tend to disagree...
*Friday evening, it's a train and plane back to Northern Ireland with my parents for my final two weeks of (ever??) living there. A chance to say goodbye to friends, squeeze TOO MUCH into my ONE suitcase, cuddle my dogs for as long as I can because I don't know how many more years they'll be around :(
Then, the big move:
*Sunday, 5th August: I move to Basel, Switzerland for upwards of a year- possibly never again to return long-time to the U.K
What waits for me out there?
Friends?
Love?
A happy ending?
Avoiding paying off my student loan for as long as humanly possible?

I'm hoping for all of the above (particularly the last one ;) )

Introducing:

So here it goes.

The challenge: see, experience, learn, breathe in as many people, countries and lifestyles as I possibly can.

The contestant: I, soon to be graduate, eager traveller, soon to be employed au-pair, ready to travel with just a ready mind and no baggage.

The experiment, should I succeed, is to become completely and total absorbed in the cultures I will be encountering.

After the pressure and stress of trying to become employed after graduating, after spending hundreds of pounds on travelling to interviews, after revising maths again for numerical reasoning tests, after learning reems of information about companies and then to receive the same incipidly polite rejection letter from every single employer, I came to the very good decision that I had had enough. Enough of the U.K. Enough of being turned down. Enough of feeling my chest tighten with the pressure. Enough of being puppeted into fighting others almost to the death for a job I don't even care about. I want out!!! I want out of this stuffy little island and being forced into a stuffy little office and being forced to be ambitious.

It just isn't me.

I want to learn new languages, try new food, meet new people, climb new mountains.

So that's what I'm doing.

This blog, for any who care to follow, will be a place where I hope to share my adventures and my experiences and hopefully some lovely pictures because I am very excited to be moving out of the country, and until I make it onto that plane and see the English channel pass by, I shall keep you enthralled (hopefully) with anything else I can think of that's interesting

Feel free to share any comments or thoughts.

Thank you for listening!

QOTR