St Lucia or bust

You may have realised by now that I'm the sort of person who can never sit still. About five years ago I was in a life situation that I didn't want to be in and after about six months of extremely tedious umming and ahhing (Ok, I've no idea how to spell that phrase) I took the plunge to get out of it. As with such things it wasn't as simple as it sounds, but the end result was me vowing to never get myself into a situation that I wasn't close to 100% happy with. I've never had myself psycho-analysed, but I'm pretty sure that this is why I'm a picky little fecker now.

I write this from St Lucia. In short, I'd been at home in England for longer than six weeks and was getting a little twitchy. On Tuesday I updated my Facebook status to declare to the world that I was getting a little twitchy and on Wednesday I booked a flight to St Lucia. I left on Thursday morning.

At this point I should probably point out that I'm not a gazillionaire. I'm just fortunate enough to know someone who works for an airline and can get cheaper flights on short notice. I also have a very understanding set of bosses who allowed me some time off. I land back in the UK on Monday morning and will be in the office by 10am.

Oh yeah, and this also happened. Again...

And this...

And once again I appear to have been mutilated by these...

St Lucia's pretty beautiful. I'm getting used to the whole Caribbean island thing having not that long ago returned from the Dominican Republic (note to self: must remember to write about the Dominican Republic). I'm staying in an all-inclusive resort, which I could definitely get used to but couldn't do every trip (again, twitchy feet) but it's ideal for a long weekend away. I'm also painfully aware of how glamourous that sounds.

I won't write too much as I'm getting frowned at by my fellow pool dwellers (I think the sight of a MacBook is making them remember the real world) and I'm also conscious that my posts are pretty lengthy, so all I'll say is this... No matter what situation you find yourself in, make sure it's a happy one. If you can't make it a happy one, stop being in it and do something else until it is a happy one. And if we fast-forward 30 years and I'm living in a house with 12 cats and having conversations with the toaster you can remind me of this, but that actually sounds pretty awesome.

Sri Lanka

I've been to Sri Lanka about five times with work and each trip I've noticed distinct changes to the country. The first couple of times I visited, Sri Lanka was coming to the end of its 27 year Civil War, which had my mum demanding hourly updates, but having never seen it before it was difficult to compare what Sri Lanka used to be like to what it was like by the time I visited. Sri Lanka was my first trip to a “developing country”, most of my travels until this point having been to Europe and the US, and it was quite the eye opener. I fell in love with the place almost immediately.

My advice to anyone travelling for holiday would be to fly into Colombo airport and then quickly get out again. Colombo is amazing. Not quite on the level of some cities in India I imagine, but the hustle and bustle can be quite a shock when you first get there (and even more of a shock once you come back again after some time at the beach or 'up country' in the hills and tea plantations).

The first thing you'll have to do when you reach the airport is pay a stranger to dump you into the back of his van and take you to where you need to go. Our office is in Colombo 3 district, which is about an hour drive. Addresses aren't very well recognised (as the guy in the van isn't an actual taxi driver) so I hang my head in shame as I tell them to drop me off at “McDonald's in Colombo 3”. This is the nearest landmark that isn't an expensive hotel (which would make the fare go up), but I do always feel the need to say “I don't eat McDonald's” as an afterthought. I don't think they ever believe me or particularly care though. At the time, the fare for this journey was about 2,500rps, but most drivers will start by quoting you at least double and then you work your way down from there. I've spent almost 30 minutes arguing over 20p before, which made me feel awful – I've been told to multiply the amount x10 in my head before agreeing to it to try and compare it to the UK equivalent of how much you'd overpay for something, but as £2 is also not that much money I usually always end up paying the higher amount at the end of the journey, but just feel like I've won something and taught a lesson about not trying to rip off tourists in future. I'm yet to discover if this has ever actually made a difference.

Also, there probably are more official driver services from the airport to the City, but I've never taken one and this always seems much more fun (although do be safe and don't tell my mum).

Since my last visit there's been a motorway built, but the majority of the roads are very badly maintained and the traffic moves very slowly. I think there probably are traffic accidents, but doubt that anyone notices as the average speed seems to be about 2 miles an hour. Apparently the motorway has revolutionised the efficiency of car journeys (it used to take about three hours to travel 25 miles – I'm not even kidding), but there were a lot of stray animal deaths in the early days. You can imagine they weren't used to cars being able to get up to 10 mph, let alone 70mph.

My first few trips to Colombo involved a lot of security check points. The area I stay in is not far from the President's living quarters, so the security was particularly high during the war (and I can now confirm that it's impossible to say that without sounding like Uncle Albert from the British sitcom, Only Fools and Horses). Typically they'd see that you were white and in my case, blonde and a feeble lady, and would wave you through, but the sight of a semi-automatic weapon will still put the heeby jeebies up you if you're not used to it. It also opens up the question about why terrorists wouldn't just force white, blonde women to do their dirty work for them, but I'd best not give anyone any ideas.

During my time in Sri Lanka towards the end of the war I saw a couple of air strikes (one of which I thought was a lightning storm until the search lights came out) and heard of a few bomb scares, but luckily I wasn't on the receiving end of any trouble. The advice at that time was, if you had no other choice but to go to the train station on a public bus or other overly populated places, to get out again as soon as you could. If you were to visit a shopping centre all bags/people would be searched. Again, I'd get waved through. Generally, at the time, you wouldn't see many tourists about the place unless you went to a larger hotel. The Galle Face Hotel is my favourite in Colombo, although the rates have massively increased since the war finished (first world problems etc.) and the Veranda Bar is a great place to work from of an evening, if the bustle gets too much.

They also have very amusing signs, which always make me smile.

Of course it wouldn't be a post about Sri Lanka if I didn't also mention the 2006 Tsunami. I, thankfully, wasn't there when it happened, but I did see the aftermath a couple of years later and was shocked by how some buildings, including schools, are still in ruin. In particular, the train from Galle to Colombo (where they tragically transported a lot of the women and children when the first wave hit) still lays on its side on the opposite side of the road as you go down to the beach. At the time, a lot of the villages didn't have phones so the communication was very poor and most people had no warning at all. It's a relief to see that this has now changed and that tsunami evacuation procedures are now in place, but it's a tragic way to learn and if you ever need some perspective on life this'll certainly give you a hard lesson.

The last time I visited the beach was almost non-existant and the tide very high, but I was told not to worry (and this was a year or two ago so they were right). 

 

(The above picture is of a bar. The sea used to be the dance floor. We moved in once our feet started to get wet). 

This memorial statue (Peraliya Buddha) took my breath away the first time I saw it. There are many temples and sculptures in Sri Lanka, but this one is about 50ft tall, faces out to sea and gives you a real sense of telling the waves to settle down and to not even think about doing it again. I hope it works.

During the week I obviously work (and sleep) in the office, but at weekends I try to escape either to the beach (I've always gone West down to Hikkaduwa as during the conflict the roads to the East were blocked) or up country to the beautiful, lush countryside such as Hatton or Kandy. I have a friend who owns a hotel in Hikkaduwa, called SunBeach Hotel, and it's a wonderful place to stay. The upstairs rooms are very clean, big and you can hear the ocean constantly. Fortunately, in Hikka the shape of the sea bed meant that the tsunami almost completely missed the village, whereas half a mile to the left and right were completely devastated. The hotel (and locals) did suffer damage though and I've had a few late night drinks with my friend who owns the hotel about her experience of the day it happened.

Up country you can climb Adam's Peak (Sri Pada - a really pointy mountain) overnight with the idea of seeing a sunrise, but if you do it in rainy season (I can relay this first hand) you'll need to take waterproofs, eucalyptus for the leeches which will either get to your feet or your trainers and prepare to not see “Adam's footprint” as the key to the safe it's locked behind will be in Colombo. The time I climbed Adam's Peak I went with a colleague and neither of us had any water or waterproofs, but we stayed at the Green House and the elderly owners, who were lovely, helped us out. Our guide didn't turn up (this can be quite typical sometimes) so we decided to take the trip solo, which is very easy as the climb is all steps... Around 5,000 of the little monkeys. We had about 200mls of water, which showed very poor foresight, but luckily took the risk on a “spring” and managed to top up near the summit. When we reached the top (which was like being engulfed in a massive cloud) there were a few monks who took us in, gave us some tea and stared at us like we were mental. We climbed down shortly afterwards (you try being barefoot in a temple in a freezing cold cloud) and the next morning I had a rather amusing moment by myself in a hotel when I stepped out of bed and promptly fell over. I couldn't walk for about a week.

(The above picture is of the shadow that the Peak makes during sunrise. I told you it was pointy).

For advice on getting around in Sri Lanka try this site here: http://www.lonelyplanet.com/sri-lanka

A lot of the time, however, you can ask the locals and generally I feel that “winging it” is the best way to see any country, as long as you adjust your tolerance levels and don't mind slumming it a bit.

If you do go, definitely get the train when you can and although you'll be offered “First Class” (which costs a tiny amount and means you get a seat in a carriage that has a fan), I would either buy the ticket and donate it to someone (good to keep Karma on your side) or get a Third Class ticket and hang out the doors like the locals do. You'll have an amazing experience and see some great views – especially at night when the fireflies come out to play. Just make sure you hold on tight and I'd advise not doing this if it's a “Poya” holiday (these are once a month, every full moon) as you'll find yourself on a train with thousands of people, stood on one leg, which gets tiresome after four hours especially if you're on your way back from climbing Adam's Peak and have jelly legs already.

If you're brave enough and like a thrill, I'd also recommend taking a bus somewhere for a short journey. They're lethal, the tyres are usually bare and I've never been convinced that the brakes work as well as they should do. There's a strong chance that you'll find yourself in hysterics whilst trying to hold on, not bash into other people and closing your eyes as the bus overtakes the traffic in front on a blind corner with another bus coming the other way. You can imagine how much the Sri Lankan commuters love this.

Overall, Sri Lanka is a very beautiful country that's gone through a whole world of changes over the past 30 years and continues to change as it now gets back to “normality”. My last visit saw less guns, more tourists and an ice cream shop in Colombo, which I never thought I'd ever see.

Lastly, I feel I must put a disclaimer in here as a lot of the stuff I've recommended is slightly dangerous and I doubt you'd be advised to do it from a Tour Operator. So, do it if you're not afraid of a little adrenaline, but I'm not responsible for any actions taken as a result of the above post, or injury or death (or the inability to walk after climbing 5,000 steps).

Sorry Vic...

A while back I mentioned getting stuck in between Victoria Beckham's legs so I thought I'd better do some explaining. Also, it's a pretty quick post (and yet again, I'm aware that I haven't posted in ages) so I'm cheating a little bit.

On the 12th August 2012 I took part in the Closing Ceremony of the London 2012 Olympic Games. I'd been a volunteer drummer in the Opening Ceremony a couple of weeks previously, and for the Closing Ceremonies we were asked, again as volunteers, to work as "marshalls", which basically involved keeping the athletes penned in and making sure that they didn't get run over by the Spice Girls on black taxi cabs. 

Although we had almost run in with the German athletes who narrowly avoided the Kaiser Chiefs on mopeds on their way back from the loo (the athletes, the Kaiser Chiefs were on mopeds which weren't allowed in the toilets), the night was a success and I think we managed to show off enough British music to let the world know that it's not all about the Beatles (although Liam Gallagher did murder Wonderwall, for which he will never be forgiven in my eyes anyway, and I haven't been able to listen to an Emili Sande song in months...)

During the Opening Ceremony I managed to get quite a few TV shots. More than the Queen, my friends tell me, and so many that it resulted in them all playing drinking games via Facebook during the athletes parade every time they spotted me. I was completely unaware of this detail, except for when the flame was being ignited and the world looked on in awe, and all I could concentrate on was my pocket vibrating with 80+ notifications.

We'd been rehearsing for months for the Industrial Revolution segment and seven times in the run up to the night we'd rehearsed the Athletes Parade (which takes over 2 hours) to real time, with no athletes. By the time it got to the night, I'd kind of zoned out... 

When it came to the Closing Ceremony I vowed that I would not get caught short without a smile. I'd grin through the whole 4 hours if I had to. And grin I did. So imagine my delight when I was in the hairdressers the week after, flicking through OK! Magazine and my face appears between Posh Spice's legs... 

 
The lightbulb doesn't exactly help. I Tweeted her to apologise, but she was obviously too busy telling her mates about being in OK! Magazine with me... 

And that's the night I almost violated Victoria Beckham.


 

Things that make me go ARGH...

As I sit on the train, next to a very nice looking lady who is eating what must be lead-plated cashew nuts judging by the sound of things, my mind is drawn to all the little annoyances that get me riled up. I'm normally a pretty happy-go-lucky kinda gal who takes life as it comes and tries to see the positive in things, but I do have certain buttons that are very easily triggered and result in me obviously not saying anything (awkward, British etc.) but becoming instantly full of white hot, intense rage. Here's just a taster...

Eating anything loudly

You do it, I (sometimes) do it, everybody does it. I hate it. The sound when someone is eating loudly actually makes me want to rip their eyes out. It's instant. I can be ridiculously calm one minute, but as soon as I clock it my insides go into turmoil. I never verbalise this to the offender, oh no. But if they look carefully at point of consumption, they'll see a little light in my eyes go out where I've gone off to my happy place in order to not commit what my sensible side would say is a very unjustified crime, but I challenge any jury in the land not to empathise when it's been a long day in the City and the guy opposite you insists on inhaling an apple.

Also in this box I'd like to put people who do that back-of-the-throat gagging thing (most common when eating a ham and mayonnaise sandwich, from my experience) and people who hack up what I'm guessing must be saliva or phlegm (just typing that word makes me die a bit inside) in the street, this is a particular hazard in Asian and Indonesian countries. I've no idea why.

People who can't spell my name

Please refer to my previous post here entitled, My Nemesis.

Tray tables on trains

These are disproportionately loud. That screech when you or someone first pulls it down. No need Network Rail, no need.

Most of my friends on Facebook

So I don't mean my actual friends. I mean the ones you went to school or used to work with, but haven't seen in 15 years and if you bumped into them the only reason you'd know what their name was is because you're 'friends on Facebook' and therefore have nothing to say to each other as you've seen it all already (typically, these friends also post every moment of their lives for people to read... OK, hold on... I'm undermining this blogging stuff a bit here aren't I...? Oops). That said, I think online communication is bloody brilliant and I tend to keep the “crazies” as FB friends anyway as it does brighten my day sometimes. However, for this one I've had to sub-categorise, it's THAT annoying to me...

• Attention seekers

Generally I think if you do something worthy of attention, you'll get it. I'm specifically talking about Facebook really. Myself and some of my friends post a fair bit on Facebook, but mostly it's laced with funny goings-on, wit and/or sarcasm, so I think that's OK.

We all have “those friends” who will put something ambiguous and expect to get lots of sympathetic posts in response. These posts usually go something like...

Attention seeker: “Devastated is not the word. I'm in shock.”

Enabler: “What's up, babe?”

Attention seeker: “It's OK, I don't want to talk about it on here. PM me.”

Why put it on Facebook then? WHY?

Also in this little box of passive aggressive tricks of mine is people who declare their love to their other halves for other peoples' benefit (for which it must be so, particularly if you live together). I'm talking about the soppy wall post...

Attention seeker: “I miss you [tag name] soooo much. Can't wait to have you home tomorrow morning even though you only left this evening.”

Surely, since you are living together, you have their phone number?

I have two married friends who a couple of years ago posted a minute-by-minute narrative, obviously tagging each other, on their Valentine's night meal – This all took place during the cooking of the bloody thing, the starter, main course, the lot. And then, after about an hour and a half of this performance, they both uploaded photos of their food (another hot topic of mine) and pictures of the table decorations, roses, chocolates etc. They must've been sat at the table the entire evening on their phones. I just don't get it.

But the last element that any Facebook attention seeking professional needs is, the ambiguous disease post...

Attention seeker: “I could be a little bit ill or it could be terminal but you won't know which because I'll just give hints of information so that you worry a bit, but really you won't as I do this every other week...”

I actually had a FB friend that checked-in at the hospital with the post “MRI.”

• Anyone “on route” to anywhere

En route. Please.

• Christmas is in December

You know the sort. You're the kind of person who does their Christmas shopping as close to the wire as possible and quite like that manic look in peoples' eyes when it's Christmas Eve and all that is left in WHSmiths is a couple of biros and last week's Take-A-Break. But there's someone on Facebook who posts in July that annoying picture that says how many (horrifyingly few) days it is to Christmas and then spends the next few months putting constant status updates of how well organised they are until eventually, around early October time, they post a picture of all their presents wrapped and in the corner waiting for the tree to be put up in a few weeks' time.

• You won't cure AIDS by liking a photo

Or save a soldier's life, or stop kitten cancer, or win a free iPad because “Apple” accidentally damaged some packaging that for some reason is no longer available despite them producing a gazillion pieces a year.

• People who announce culls

I usually block these people as soon as they're announced. I find the "if you can still see this you've made it!" statuses a bit too obnoxious.  

Those are just a few Facebook-isms that get on my nerves, but it does of course have positives of which there are plenty, so I'll just continue to be mildly amused and be glad that we're all able to share whatever we like with the world.

Those sodding Meerkats

I hate them. The only thing that stops me from hating them is that Simon Greenall does the voice (who you may remember from Alan Partridge).

People who stop dead in the street

When the flow of people traffic is moving along nice and steadily and then someone in front of you stops suddenly.

Made up words to sell you stuff

The Institute of Tricologists, Bifidus Regularis, Digestivum, Lactis, Actiregularis – You know the sort of adverts. They show a DNA style bit of animation and then use a (probably) made up word over the top of it to put the fear into each and every one of us that if we don't use that particular type of conditioner then our hair follicles will implode or if we don't eat that yoghurt 10 times a day then our stomachs will surely ingest themselves. No, no, no.

*I'd like to apologise to anyone who does indeed work for the Institute of Tricologists, but I ain't buying it.

I'm not being funny, buuuuuuut... 

 

Anyone who prefixes a statement with this introduction. Also lumped in with “I don't mean to be a pain, buuuuuuut...” and “I hate complaining, buuuuuut...” If you didn't like it, you wouldn't do it. Simples.

Shopping for two (weeks)...

Later this week I'll be leaving on a jet plane for the Dominican Republic. This isn't a customer or supplier visit, or a meeting with a new brand we want to work with, or a hellish electronics show, or anything remotely related to work.

It's a HOLIDAY.

I plan on throwing my phone in the sea and not moving until the last call for the flight back. And what does every girl need to do before she goes on holiday?

SHOP.

Luckily for me I managed to locate my other half's work car park permit on Saturday, which saved me six quid on parking meaning that I ended up buying four bikinis, a couple of tops, some pairs of shorts, some jeans and some shoes. I think there may have been more, but I tend to black out when shopping. I find that it helps with the panic afterwards.

As I've mentioned before, my bestie (Karen) has a fashion blog: mission style, which has become a bit of a Bible for me, our friends and those people that live in the internet and read blogs (hello, if you're watching). I've taken a momentary bit of inspiration from her and thought I'd post some of what I bought, just in case you get inspiration from it too. Or at the very least, in case you have a helpline for me to call... I'm thinking of that lovely old puppet couple on the TV who give out money before payday?

Anyway, here goes... 

 

I'm a fan of shorts (I also have a bit of a girl crush on Caroline Flack and Millie Mackintosh at the moment so I went a little bit overboard in Miss Selfridge and may have bought two pairs that are VERY DIFFERENT, HONEST. I teamed these up with a laser cut t-shirt because, according to the magazines I read (which I fob off to my other half as “research for work”) laser cut work is very much in at the moment. And it involves lasers which can only be a good thing.

As you can see, I also bought some bright pink shoes. Contrary to what the above pictures will portray, I don't usually go for pink, but like I said, it's Karen's fault... She told me to do it.

I also bought a handbag from Zara. You can buy it here.

  

Some white jeans and some ripped jeans, both from Miss Selfridge:

 (Top above from New Look).

 (Top above from Zara and below from New Look).

 (Top above from Miss Selfridge and below from New Look - wasn't 100% sure about the tassels, but good for the beach I thought).

And some bikinis from H&M:

(I chose not to model these as this really isn't that type of blog...)

I took the plunge with some floral trousers too (from New Look)... They look like a maxi skirt, hence the acrobatics. These are a little out of my comfort zone, but I took the plunge anyway.

And, despite going into shock that for the first time in my life I took six things into the changing room and decided to keep all six things (that's just cruel), I also picked up a dress on my way to the till... Just like that.

Ah well. At least I won't need to go shopping again until next year, right?

Lots of love.