A Couple of Turkeys

Not sure how many of you remember, but I had boycotted Turkey ever since I was ran over by a Turk who ran a red light in 2009 and she was basically the biggest piece of work ever that I’d decided I wouldn’t go back. Come 7 years on, I decided I shouldn’t blame the whole country for one silly cows mis demeanor and I’d heard great things so booked a trip for the May bank holiday. Also, I booked it with a chick Courts who is one of my wife Laura’s best friends, but I’d only ever met her once, but we both clicked and we are both slightly mad. So it made sense that we would go on hols together the second meeting. After all my Nonno and Nonna got married the third time they met… so this pace runs well in the famiglia.  

So all the adventure happened almost instantly for Courts and I enroute to Instanbul. We met at Heathrow airport straight after work with the intention of legging it through customs and getting to Weatherspoons ASAP! The excitement started at the check-in counter when I informed the lady that British Airways online check in upgrade had failed me, and would it be possible for two seats close to the front. Nope. Nada. Apparently it wasn’t even possible to sit us together, just one in front of the other. Cool, we’ll wait to the flight and sort it. Then the man at security hated my banter. I told him I was just joking but wondered why everyone was being a dick. Its Friday arv people. Sort it!

Ø       Made it to Weatherspoons and the wait was massive. Thankfully we found a half table to share with some randoms who then hated us cos Courts spilt my drink all over the table and it dripped down on to their bags. The bar lady also hated Courts, who implied she wanted a free drink as she had spilt her drink almost instantly. She as an annoying Northern Irish man woman. I kept up spirits, pointing out the only hot boy in the whole airport with the most amazing blue eyes. We then boarded, standing guard, refusing to sit anywhere but next to each other. Thankfully some freak swapped out his window seat for Courts middle seat and we were on like Donkey Kong. After exchanging pleasantries with the kind man who downgraded his seat, he informed Courts he was an artist, and was attending a festival – Courts could be his guest whilst I was at Gallipoli on Sunday and promptly gave Courts his business card. As it turns out she recognised the business card and his product as this dude used to internet troll her!!... Back to no Sunday plans for Courts. It was then that I realised that the incredibly handsome man with the blue eyes was coming straight towards the vacant seat next to Courtney… Ahhh Maze Ing. It turned out he was on a bucks, for his gay friend Steve, and the group was 50/50. The gay banter carried on the whole flights, and we met Johnny, a quite good looking, well dressed dude, kind of reminded me of the gay guy in Sex & the City who was mates with Charlotte. I proclaimed that I had picked it early. No straight guys ever dress so nicely, and then we met the buck, who looked straight to me as he was wearing ill-fitting jeans and an ugly belt lacking the style of our new mates. We spent an hour on the tarmac cos the selfish Frenchies had again closed their air space, so all up it was about 4 hours and Istanbul was two hours behind. Upon Landing, hot Will, the man with the glorious blue eyes who works for a tech start up in Soho, informed us he was completely straight… and so was the whole bucks party. Ahhh Maze Ing.

T    The queue though at immigration upon landing in the Bull was ridiculous. It took us another hour to get to the front of the queue and when we did, I went straight through with my Italian passport, and Courts was told she wasn’t allowed in as she needed a VISA. Thankfully it only was a pay on arrival one and only wasted another 15 minutes, and id organised a transfer to pick us up, so no doubt smooth sailing from here?

Ø      Fail, no transfer. Another quarter hour had passed and I was over it, so we got a cab to the hotel…. Then the cab driver got lost. Then tried to rip Courts off by 40 Turkish cunts (this is the nickname we gave the money as we had no idea what they were called, I went with Dirham initially, but the former seemed more apt in this country of dis organisation. Then we arrived at our hotel and the check in man informed us that the hotel had no rooms for us as they had over booked. Another hour passed, it was 4am and we were cranky as. I informed the man, whilst trying to be polite (those of you that know me well know that #MonesTellItHowItIs struggles with this) that I had a busy day at work, followed by all the delays. Finally, we were informed there was a room and it was an upgrade at the 5* opposite.

Ø     We got up early for some reason, so after we checked the facebook check in and saw how nuts Couts fam and friends were that she was in Istanbul we decided to find the buffet for a feed. Was pretty standard so the goal for the next couple of days was to find eggs benedict. Something we failed at dismally. After our shitty breaky we took off to explore in our shorts and arms out, obvs disrespectable as but hey, having once visited a mosque, I get the idea, pillars, space, carpet. Michael Agile Wilson recommended we get a guided tour of Hagia Sofia. Great call. The place was awesome. Mainly because of all the Christian stuff.  

Ø     We booked an awesome restaurant for dins- Nichole at the Tom Tom resort and basically got very drunk, as the meal took forever! 7 courses and 100 quid down somehow Courts managed to tee up a space at a club pretending she was VIP with the waiter.

Ø     Walking aimlessly and considerably lost to this club we walked past some strangers and asked for directions (bearing in mind both Courts and I were appropriately dressed for dinner, however inappropriately dressed for a Muslim country. Courts asked what looked like a private driver for directions. The other guy stressed out that there were two ladies talking to him said ‘oh my wife is in the van’ Me being nice looked in (saw a burqa ninja lady) and tried to speak to her, she only spoke Arabic and looked frightened so I retreated, but in this time Courts had managed to get the other guy to drive us to this club. So we got in the other van. I sat close to the door in case I had to escape. Courtney had got us in to this rape van, I was certainly leaving her behind as a sacrifice. Turns out the guy was awesome. He only wanted a kiss on the cheek from Courts and Courts refused to oblige, much to my insistence. We were dropped at the club and walked in, Courts greeting the guy who she had seen in the magazine, pretending we were VIP, he then escorted us to a booth and gave us a bottle of prosecco…then out came another waiter with some nuts.. then another with a whole fruit platter! However knowing I had a 5am start for Gallipoli, the night started wearing thin and I was ready to leave. Courts informed Mr VIP man that we were leaving and he was like ‘I’ll just go inside and grab the bill’… I was like ‘Courts, I thought you said it was free?’ and she was like ‘it was!’ and so we walked out in the opposite direction and hailed a cab…

Ø     Next morning was an early rise and long bus drive. It was made even harder with the hangover, however thankfully it had dissipated by the breaky break. Gallipoli was extraordinary. Beyond words how breath taking and chilling it was at the same time. What a lovely sunny and reflective place. I’m sure this paradise was hell on earth though, as come the afternoon it was stifling hot. Here, I put in my headphones, walked to the opposite side as my group and tried to read as many tombstones as I could to Thank them and show them respect. One person  in another group kept trying to engage in conversation. I just answered and then walked right away, keeping to myself. Trying to take it all in. It again became emotional when one of our group members found the grave of his great uncle. I'm glad i was there for that moment, but, it almost felt like it needed to be private. I suddenly really proud of Hoddo and what he does serving for the country. It is also relevant as he had relatives who served at Gallipoli. I can't imagine what those soldiers felt, saw. Landing at a beach on the other side of the world. The ultimate sacrifice, forever young, forever remembered. 

Ø     Coming back in to Istanbul that night took forever, and because of the roadworks it was two hours longer so I didn’t get back until midnight. Courts greeted me, a huge heap of regret having not came along with me. She instead decided to explore, but lasted two hours on her own, before she was hassled so much she went back to the hotel and lounged. We decided to try and find eggs bene for the last day enroute to the airport – Courts only job to organise. We got a cab a good 30 mins in the opposite direction to the breaky place. IT WASN’T OPEN. FAIL. Anyway after another rip off cab merchant we were over it. Looking forward to returning in September – hopefully less time getting hassled when we are in the ocean out of reach. All in all Istanbul was a cool place. Turks… well, the bull part is quite applicable still, but the kebabs are on spot. What a cool place.   

 

World of Wars

I feel compelled to recommence my blog as I’ve just had the most interesting conversation with my hotel transfer driver in Malta.

Ironically on the plane I had a chat to the Aussie girl next to me when I explained that I was travelling on my own as the stars weren’t aligned in my companionship at present – Becs moved to Miami, Cait had to work, Lee’s festival tickets sold out and he couldn’t get cheap flights. Anyway, I was telling this girl how I can’t even be bothered to make friends, I just want to enjoy some sun (It’s snowed in London the last 3 days) a book, and some good food. I told her that you never know who you will meet though and told her about the time I had an overnight stay in Grand Cayman and I was asking the transfer driver about food and he then proceeded to drop everyone else off first, taking me to dinner. It was a fair deviation across the island, but it was awesome, and for some reason I wasn’t scared in the slightest, he was just a really nice guy that liked food and wanted company. She said as we parted ways ‘maybe you’ll get a nice transfer driver.’

I exited the doors at Malta airport to a swarm of signs, I was laughing as I cut three laps of the swarm looking for my name. It wasn’t obvious as when I finally saw it, it was a short little round man in an old suit. I sat in the front as I said I wanted to see everything. Then he told me off as I was responding to a text a guy had sent asking for a date on Tuesday as the weather is supposed to be good (I’ll save that for another blog!) he was like ‘I thought you wanted to see scenery not texting!’ so I put down my phone and looked out the window…

Naturally I asked him about the Maltese food, and he said it is Mediterranean influenced, the food is good here and he used to be a chef. I said I was half Italian so I loved Mediterranean food, I also remember my mate Tom’s mum Rose being an awesome cook and me looking for any excuse to go there for dins after uni. When I told him I was half Italian, he was so excited, explaining to me he was from Rome and then the story took an interesting turn. This guy was a chef for Gaddalfi. He used to spend 3 months on in Libya and one month off (in Malta) and he said he was treated well by Gaddafi, who loved Malta and visited Malta. I asked him what Gaddalfi ate and he said it was cous cous, lamb, chicken or seafood, rice, beans and he also loved Maltese food. He said although he was treated well in the camp, (the only place where they allowed alcohol in Libya) others weren’t so lucky. Gaddalfi was mad, and he would get angry at one person and then kill all their family. He said he once saw him kill 200 people once. He said that life in Libya was dangerous, the local markets were like weapon stock piles and that the Arabs were mad; they could just kill you if there was a disagreement and then rather than it be investigated, it would just be said it was a part of the war. I told him how unsettled and vulnerable I felt in Egypt and then he said I was crazy - 'you should never travel to Arab countries as they are all crazy' he said. Though for this danger, and as Gaddalfi liked him, he was paid well; 7000 euros a month, with a 1000 euro bonus every 3 months. We spoke for the whole time, his English was awesome, he spoke Arabic to Gaddalfi though and as he was Italian, he spoke to me in Italian too (mine poco poco).

It reminded me of another story I was told by my Serbian plasterer many years ago when I worked onsite. I was explaining where my Nonno was from in Italy and that it sat on the Croatian border. I told him how the war consumed 8 years of my Nonno’s life, being a prisoner by the Germans and the Soviets as the Italians switched sides, they were treated like traitors. He was in one of the last labour camps to be liberated and spent the next few years walking home from Germany, returning many years after the war had ended. That prompted my almost 2m tall Serbian plaster to tell me that he used to be on the national basketball team when the civil war broke out in Yugoslavia. He said that the worst thing about the war was when his Croatian team mates suddenly hated him because he was Serbian. He was also imprisoned. Emancipated he weighed barely 60kgs when he was freed. He was upset by the fighting he witnessed in Australia between the 2^nd and third generation Croatians and Serbs, as he just felt like there was no need and no one had learnt their lesson. (For anyone interested, there is a cool doco Once Brothers that tells of a similar story https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Once_Brothers).

Back to my plane journey over and the Aussie girl on the plane was telling me about her Israeli ‘bad Jew that eats bacon’ boyfriend. We also spoke about Tel Aviv (I so want to go), Nazareth and Jerusalem, all places she was lucky enough to travel to and see. I told her about Tel Aviv, how I’d heard it was a riot and a great party, she told me, it’s like a bubble, all the gays convene there and the parties are out of this world, then there’s Nazareth and Jerusalem which are full of history, however rife with conflict and now too dangerous to travel.

 



Prince Harry

In all honesty I don’t know if I’m a sounding board for awesome people or I’m just gullible. I hope it’s the former. I’m genuinely interested in meeting people and hearing stories. I’m lucky to live in a free society and I was reminded of this just a couple of days at the Anzac Day dawn service. (Incidentally but not relevantly it was my two year living in London anniversary).  I will say that the London Anzac experience is chilling, reflective and beautiful. It is well attended by both Aussies and Kiwis (and Prince Harry!!) and it’s so nice to hear stories from all the soldiers, English, Aussies and Kiwis. I would recommend an overseas Anzac experience to everyone. Hopefully one day I’m lucky enough to go to France or Turkey on Anzac day which I’m sure will even exceed this experience.



Enough of the war and depression. The next blog will be about Malta and the awesome time I’ve had here hopefully. I just needed these stories out, so they aren’t lost.

 

Southern Hemisphere Hoo Haa - South Africa

Well played South Africa. Wow. What a place!

I arrived a week ago weary from three flights but eager to see and explore a new country. I shared my soon to be retired Qantas 747 with the ‘Chiefs’ Rugby Union team. No idea who they are and honestly only realised they were famous when people were doing photo bombs at the airport. Touchdown in South Africa was as expected. Everything was already being done at an African pace and there was disorder at the passport queue. There was also an annoying lady there that was obviously visiting family that had disowned her for being annoying who kept trying to engage in conversation with me. After 16 hours of air time, I was not coping well with this and tried hiding from her in the line… not easy to do when you are almost 6 ft tall, white female usually, however I was in good height company so managed to obscure from her view.

After a turbulent flight on the South African low cost airline Mango (probably resurrected an old retired Qantas plane and Nigerian airlines pilot I say), I was greeted at Durban airport drive thru by Melissa and her papa Luke. The first couple of days was great by the beach, with a quiet and quant seaside village called Shackas Rock- here you won’t find much other than a long, rocky and rippy sea, but you will find a cool old man’s bar called Salty’s and the best coffee in the whole country at a little café across the road from our apartment- called Salt haha, must be a town theme. We were invited by Melissa’s great Aunt Joy and Uncle Fred for lunch – roast chickens on the second day and went exploring Balito prior to lunch. We were at the local woollies where I smelt the chickens cooking and I said to the fam ‘I hope this is where Aunty Joy is getting her chickens from’. We then turned the corner of the aisle and this crazy woman leaped towards us. I had no idea what was going on. But as it turns out – that was Aunty Joy getting the chickens for us from Woolies! Small world.

It was a great relief for sun seeking Liss and I to follow the ‘enough to be indoors but not enough to be drought breaking’ rain up the coast on our way to our Safari at Leppard Mountain (NOT!). After three hours enroute we were greeted at the gate by a round black jovial man who proclaimed ‘please be careful, call us if you get stuck, my road is fucking crap’. He was spot on and about 10kms in we were glaring through the thick rain at a muddy slippery slide hill which needed to be crossed in order to reach our lodgings. Liss’s dad Luke and Liss were quite positive ‘50/50’ chance. Liss’s mum Shaz and I had little faith in our little shit box car and this lack of hope was reiterated by a man in a four wheel drive that had just crossed. Man to Luke (laughing): “Do you think that little car will make it?” Luke “Not sure mate, I’ll keep the revs up, we can only try!”. It was like the travelater at the end of gladiators, three quarters of the way up was when it was touch and go. I think most cars were consumed, but our little white beast was determined, and only got close to bottoming out when we had just enough edge of car over the peak…. Phew! Driving on, Liss excitedly pointed out the Lions. In our shit white car, I won’t lie – I was fucking scared (cue video of rhinos charging white car). But we sat in the car and watched and I noted that the lions were spotty which I thought was unusual. The next animal we saw was a family of pumba’s or wort hogs, my fav Lion King character only marginally to Zazou, which we also saw on safari.

Arrival at Leppard Mountain was our own little haven. We had a king size bed to die for and a plunge pool for each room. The mornings were up early for safari, afternoons were relaxation and nights were again safari. The staff were awesome and the food was exquisite. By the final day my thighs were touching and we still hadn’t seen an elephant. We got up for the early safari on our final day not expecting to see a single thing, as it seemed with it, the rain fall had washed away the animals. We were cutting laps of the now accessible dam looking for the wild dogs, to no avail. That was until Liss spotted a Kudoo, thankfully I spotted three fluffy tails running rapidly behind ‘The Dogs!!’. Soon, the whole lot of the five adjoining parks safaris groups were following the wild dogs, only 450 remain in South Africa and only a couple of thousand throughout Africa in the wild. I began to wonder if I had really seen the dogs, or just some other animal and sent us all on some wild goose with fluffy tail chase. But then bingo, they had been found chasing a Kodoo some 30 minutes later. Instead of hoping to find them, I was stoked for the Kudoo, having survived the feed, but then, we saw all five dogs, bloodied mouths and all. We stayed with them for another 20 minutes or so, then decided to leg it and chase up the earlier bull elephant sighting. We found the large bull, heavily camouflaged

behind what looked like a twig tree in comparison to the elephant. Our morning ‘safari special’ Amarula, hot choc coffee was enjoyed in the company of the Ellie bull before we were heading back to camp. Enroute however we were not disappointed, seeing a bunch of giraffes and then another Ellie, with her new born complete with umbilical cord. Now it all made sense as to why we couldn’t find elephants for days as they herd together in a circle and protect the mama ellie as she gives birth. The next scenes were extraordinary as we watched the mama bathe the new born for the first time. It was then, inconveniently or conveniently that we got a flat tyre. We were silent (hard work for our lot) as the protective mama and her little bubba passed by, so close we could hear her breathe. We waited for them to pass/ stumble by and were out of our eyesight, and we hurriedly changed the tyre, not believing what we had just witnessed.  

We departed leopard mountain having saw some

amazing creatures, some pumbas, porcupines, cheetahs, elephants, African wild dogs, inyala, impala, koodu, buffalos, white and black rhinos, the list goes on. It was here I had to say goodbye to Tempah, my Zulu prince (he called me his beautiful Zulu Angel, and every other gullible female haha). We left our ranger, Bea, and set off for Cape Town on another turbulent Mango flight.

The flight was horrific. I was definitely happy when we landed or skidded on the runway. Cape town was instantly a hit. We left the comfort of the airport and saw the discomfort of the shanty townships which was saddining to me however the landscape was picturesque and somehow it all worked. Our hotel was seaside at Seapoint. Our stunning new home was The Hyde apartments; the rooftop pool was the epitome, overlooking Table Mountain and supporting Liss’s and my desire to become three shades darker in a day, although our tinge of red the next morning was a disappointing result. We kicked off with a morning run and explored the amazing city. Cool place, great little bars, the city felt safe, people were polite and the shopping was top notch. Wednesday we drove to the national park and went swimming with the penguins at Boulders beach, a highlight, all of them reminded me of Happy Feet or Mick Boyland. We had dinner with the Pfisters and were told facts about animals from Jo’s adorable son’s, who apparently know more about the Platypus than I know- who else knew that the Platypus was the only male to lay eggs? Our final full day was again up early, but this time for a wine tour. We visited three wineries and managed only to get a little bit tipsy, but added some more to the hips with the biltong and cheese. The highlight was Liss stating that she could taste undertones of toilet water when she tried the Sav Blanc and I finally got her to like one red wine- a nice bottle of Syrah.   

 

The final day I decided to combat my touching thighs and set off for a run. It was only supposed to be 4kms, but when the shops were closed at the other end, I turned around and ran back for our final breaky. I passed ‘The Marathon Man’ Eddie Izzard who was close to completing his 27 marathons in 27 days, I said ‘Guten Tag’ and got goose bumps as I passed, although I had no idea who he was, I assumed by his entourage he was doing a great thing, and when I got back and googled, I saw I was right. Liss and I said her goodbyes to her parentals and flew our final Mango flight to Joburg, thankfully this time, it was peaceful, the pilot clearly could fly, and landed well. However Mango is on my personal never to fly again list, with Ryanair. We had our last supper at Jackson’s at Joburg airport and boarded separate flights. Mine another exit seat, hers a much longer middle seat cramped flight. I had a minor anxierty when there was a screaming baby next to me and I couldn’t find my hallucinagent sleeping tablets – stilnoct, however as it turned out I was sitting next to a pharmacist who handed me 10mg of candy which put me nicely to sleep after part 2 of Hunger Games MockingJay and I woke up just under 2 hrs from landing, baby still screaming.   

South Africa, top marks. Your coffee is alright, your eggs are overcooked, Your tinder men are second only to Hong Kong’s and Cape Town rocks my massive world. I’ll be back. 5 spuds.   

Southern Hemisphere Hoo Haa - Australia

The last few weeks in London were hectic. The weather was absurdly cold and I’d started getting angry and over London. The cold snap hit later than usual, and the rides home became arduous with head on gale winds and rain drenching my eyes. I visited the physio the last week prior to leaving three times and was so busy at work I was sending emails from the tarmac. I was thrilled when I finally boarded the plane and set off.

If I wasn’t already dreading the 25hr plane ride enough, I was surprised to learn that there was a ‘surprise’ stopover in Singapore to refuel. This meant I had to work out the correct time to devour my sleeping tablets and without knocking myself out and being spacey for the stopovers, usually just after the first meal service I’d pop one and it would engage me in some form of sleep at best and relaxation in the least.

Table 11

Landing in Australia was weird. I was surprisingly anxious, and unlike previous trips home, I hardly had any nails. I was soon put to ease when I was picked up by Maria and I noticed the drive in had barely changed, only a few new places on an otherwise familiar route home. It was a quick changeover before it was Andy and Kim’s wedding time aka ‘the reason Mones flew home' and 'the girl Mones met in Hamburg at her lowest point in life’. Their wedding was great – both glowing with love. It was wonderful to see both families having a crazy fun time and try to incarnate the hoo haa that was occurring on Table 11 which housed two international fifo’s - Rob and I. Rob looking superb after his three day fifo mission from Indonesia. One of the funniest moments of the wedding was the priest lady saying that she had just bought the parasols so please don’t flog or damage them… twice. Sunday I was lucky enough to see a heap of my mates and smash some Vietnamese and a bottle of Champs (courtesy of Kris) on Vicco Street.

The next few days were a whirlwind and barely deviated from my spreadsheet. Bianca came home late Sunday night from Peru and we jetted off early Monday to meet mum, dad and Granny in Torquay. Torquay was awesome as usual, we spent our Torquay days by the beach, frequenting my fav breaky haunts and Tuesday night we went for a family dinner at the cousins in Ocean Grove. It was great seeing all the cousins’ children being loud, crazy and grown up so much in 12 months. One of the kids was hilarious and pointed at granny’s mole on her upper lip and said she would get her wart remover to fix it! That night I was fortunate enough to pop in to my mate Andy’s place and catch up with my footy crew, the Eden’s.

Leaving on Wednesday Traralgon bound it was a fab little catch up with friends at mum and dads new house. It was weird having returned after over a year. I didn’t get to Traralgon on my last visit so I hadn’t been there

since November 2014, when I still had my Nonna, and  my family home with the glorious resort pool. This time, there was no Sunderland circuit mansion, the pool was utilised on the fine hot day by another family, my Nonna’s house was gone and replaced with mum and dads new house. It was bizarre not entering via the back entrance and seeing an almost identical view with the old garage but not entering Nonna’s house and smelling sugo. In its place is a modernish home. My room is spacious, presumably it’s in case mum needs to put a cot in there (wishful thinking). There is also no bath in addition to the lack of pool, so my incentive to return is significantly decreased, however I still look forward to seeing my family, friends, and visiting Three Little Birds. Lynny put on a great spread and we had a great turn out in Traralgs, having some decent throw backs with my dear friends Alice, Lell, Kimmay Stoll, the Gathercoles, Malco’s and Chan sleeping over like old times. My god son P.S. is now tall and hugged me which is worth a mention as he is usually far less affectionate than Bj and Rubes who love a hug.   

I was out of Traralgs the next morning and headed for Melbs, where I was relieved to spend my grand finale days prior to South Africa, seeing my fabulous friends, frequenting my fav haunts; middle park beach in front of Sandbar Restaurant and my old trusty brunchy East Elevation and Green Park. I also got to see more of Meady who was off work sick as his

Gee & Mones

flesh was being consumed by an antibiotic resistant super bug. Friday night out was a scandal with a proposal from Josh with a BMW key ring, his mind undoubtable obscured by the effects of alcohol, having had two months off. I felt privileged that he drank for me and look forward to my watch and the Maldives J. It was a nice coincidence to share my drinks with Luke’s 30^th celebrations too at the new haunt Arbory, and seeing a bunch of mates I thought I wouldn’t see , including Lagos BF. Here I was reunited with my beloved Izzy who stayed over and kept me company like old times in London. Saturday surprisingly I woke up alright (Izzy, not so good) and had a house party BBQ where I got to consume my fav Beef sausages and potatos tots. I also had a great turn out, with more London visitors – Iz and Gee (my caramel coloured netball boyfriend) and I got to see Phoebs, the newly engaged Jayno, Wife Laura plus her new brown eyed beau Michael, Kate, Lily + tribe, Gaz and boys. The night owl saw us deviate down Brunswick Street and being serenaded to at the place next to Black Pearl by the hot to trot Hugo who somehow got away with dropping my least fav P word without me going nuts at him. Best On Ground was Phoebs gyrating some dudes legs and proclaiming to me that everyone was boring, and needed to dance haha.           



Mones, Yank & Lell - Friends +30 years



Finally the last day Sunday, I returned to Middle Park and got to spend the last day getting some rays. Boom Boom dropped by and then I went to Republica for Blaise’s birthday where I got to spend some final precious hours with KB, Phoebs and Kim. My whirlwind week was over and I was grateful to everyone I saw, sad for those I missed and annoyed with all the movement as I boarded the plane for another three flights to get there adventure in South Africa.