Autumn Resting

The Odd One Out

A New Toy To Play With

(picture courtesty of www.letsgodigital.com)




Its a rainy Sunday afternoon and what better than to sit indoors and catch up on my blog. It feels like summer rain, though, when your skin feels sticky and the air is still warm, despite the rain falling. I love it. Apart from what has appeared to be a mass invasion of flies while I was away!

Last week I took the plunge and purchased myself a camera of my own. Spurred on by recent comments from family, friends and strangers, I have decided to actually take it a little more seriously. If I was truly smart, I would have purchased the camera in Dubai, where cameras are disgustingly cheap but instead I waited until I returned to see how much money I had left after roaming Europe.

I went into a number of shops to find the best deal on a Pujifilm s5600, the newer edition of the camera I had borrowed from my sister. I was adamant that I would be getting another Fujifilm because I didnt want to mess around with my formula - Kate + fujifilm = reasonably good photos. However, after an hour or so of a salesman talking me out of the fujifilm and into a Kodak z7590, I spent almost $200 more than I planned, and I had myself a camera which I had no idea about, or experience with. Yep. I am a salesman's dream. A week had passed and the Kodak was a major disappointment. I tossed and turned each night for seven days when I finally decided that I would take it back. I didnt like going back to the salesman that had convinced me to politely tell him "it's not you, its me", but it had to be done. I had spent a lot of money on the Kodak, and knew that if I kept it, chances were that I'd lose interest in photography.

I now have the familiar shape of the fujifilm s5600 in my hand and I couldnt be happier. The lesson learnt - go with your heart and not your head. Or, do some research before you go and buy. Or, dont be such a sucker and believe every word a salesman tells you.

Annie (my sister) is extremely pregnant and it will now be an anxious wait for the baby to arrive. Little Bubba (they havent settled on a name) has been happily sitting in the oven, cooking away, waiting for the right time to come on out into the world. We think that LB is going to be just like her aunty (impulsive and impatient) and come on out earlier than expected. Annie is due on 30 November but we think it will more likely be in the next week or so because Annie has been "carrying low" for a little while now and is incredibly huge (in a nice, pregnant way of course). Last night saw the first of the "false alarms" where we thought she was having contractions but they subsided and life in the Adams household carried on as normal for a little while longer. We all know that it certainly will change once LB arrives!

Will keep you updated, and I may even sneak a picture of the pregnant one for you all to see. Oh, and be warned. There will be a sickly amount of baby photos on this website, taken by none other than the very proud Aunty (me!).

K

Shapes, Patterns and Colours

The Alpine Flowers of Gryon










The Trees of Versailles











The Ancient Floor of St. Mont Michel

Settling Into the Swing Of Things

Well I have now settled back into somewhat of a usual routine. I get up very early in the morning, make the long trek via train into work (one hour's train travel as opposed to what used to be a fifteen bus ride), I start work early, leave work early enough to get back on the train for another hour or so, and then head to the gym. It isnt til late until I can finally rest my head on the pillow. I then wake up and the routine starts all over again. It is certainly a different lifestyle to the one I was living only weeks ago, where i would wake up and wonder where on the earth I would be at the day's end. However, now that I have managed to shake of the infection I'd received on the way home, and ignore a bit of the "travel wunderlust" that followed, I am now back into that comfortable routine of every day living.

I've been extremely encouraged by some of the comments I've received about this blog and the photos on it. With this encouragement I am hoping to continue with the photography, and try different types. So you may see some different styles appearing, as I explore the camera's capabilities. But I do have another favourite photo! I know, I know, I say that about every photo I produce, but this one really IS one of my favourites, I promise....

It was taken at the Goodward Races, as the bookies were taking their final bets just before the main race.




Talk later!
k

Campfire Nights - Gryon, Switzerland

The Campfire Crew at the Mountain Chalet










The Town of Gryon and its Beautiful Cafes










Waking Up to the Wonder of Switzerland










After many a' toasted marshmellow by the campfire.

Fairytale France

Chateau de Chenouceax Loire Valley







Chateau de Chambord, Loire Valley













I was lucky enough to have witnessed the launching of a hot air balloon on the grounds of Chateau de Chambord - a sight I will never forget

Life In London

This is one of my favourite pictures, which was taken in the busy Leicester Square, London.

Dubai - the Past and the Future

My Sister Annemaree

People say we look alike. I have no idea where they get that idea from.

*grin*

She is my older sister.

I tell people that my parents practiced by having her, then made perfect by having me.

Florence, Italy

"Honestly Sir, I wasnt just graffitti-ing over the Statue of David! I promise!", says another tourist.


Ahh.. the essence of Florence. Modern in Amongst Old.


Self Portrait

Saint Mont Michael, Normandy, France

Switzerland

Lauterbraunnen - the Valley of the Waterfalls and Gateway to the Swiss Alps







The size of the alpine mountains in Switzerland are indescribable. You have to see them to believe them.


On top of Schiltorn, 10,000 feet above sea level.








One of Interlaken's locals

Fluffy Porsche - The Cat from Dawley

Judith and Tony (from Dawley, England) had the cutest cat called Porsche. Of course, I had to test out whether she was photogenic. She was.

Home Sweet Home

I am now sitting at my sister's house writing this blog. I am back in Australia. It is a bittersweet return. I am glad to be home, amongst the comfort of family and friends, yet I still feel as though there is still so much travelling to do. My travel bug was constantly fed throughout the past four weeks yet it still craves for more.

Travelling changes you, and changes the way you look at the world. And I am not talking about travelling, in the sense of getting on a tour bus and enjoying the famous sights. Travelling like I did for a lot of the time changes you - making your way around unfamiliar places at your own initiative rather than being hand fed really makes you pay attention to the smaller things in each country. Whether it is their language, transport system, or cultural mannerisms, when you have to fend for yourself in an unfamiliar place, you really get an idea of how different (and often lucky) you are.

I arrived in Dubai at 6.00am. Having walked out in the stifling heat into a crowd of Arab men, I felt a little daunted. I was aware that this would be the case, so I made sure I wore dark clothes that covered my body from my ankles and shoulders, despite it being 40 degrees. I was relieved to see a man holding a sign saying "Crowne Plaza" and, although for some reason my name had been omitted from the courtesy bus list, the man ushered me into the air conditioned mini bus, took my bags from me and we drove off into the city.

Dubai was an amazing place. Amazing has been an overused word on this blog. Perhaps I should say that it is extraordinary. It is out of the ordinary. It was the first "real" taste of a culture very different to my own. It is a futuristic city in a sandbox. That is the only way I can describe it. If I wasnt so jet lagged at the moment, I could probably explain it a little better. I was lucky enough to experience the United Arab Emirates in Ramadam, which is the muslim holy month, which was certainly an experience. While many westerners complained about the unavailability of food and drink during daylight hours, I found it intriguing. When others complained about the heat and lack of shelter, I found that it was just another part of the experience. Twelve hours was not enough to spend in Dubai. I would love to go back and discover what it is like in the "not so touristy" areas. I enjoyed the differences of culture and only made me more eager to travel to more exotic destinations in the future!

So I am now about to download some photos - some of my favourites from my trip. I am not so sure how I will go, given that I am exhausted and there are about 1000 photos, but the ones I have reviewed so far turned out very well.

I hope you enjoy them as much as I enjoyed taking them.

K

My Fairytale Venice

The Docks of Murano, the Glass Making Island of Venice









A Gondalier Waiting To Be Hired








Another Day On the Grand Canal











A Hidden Treasure of Venice - One of Its Quiet "Backstreets"

Heading Home

Well, after four weeks on the road, after many memories created, many friends made, it is time to say goodbye to the backpacking lifestyle once more. Time has gone extraodinarily fast, as expected, but that is the nature of travelling. If it were a profession, i would study a doctorate in it. :)

Anyway, yesterday I met Adam and his mother for coffee and then Adam had to go to work. Seeing an opportunity for shopping, Adam's mum and I hit the shops in Wimbledon and I did considerable damage to my credit card. I am heading off back to winbledon in a second so that Adam and I can say our last goodbyes. Its going to be hard, because there is no real certainty as to when we will see each other again.

Then I am off to collect my phone from Surrey and Janine has been nice enough to offer me a lift back to Heathrow, which is just down the road from her work. God love her.

Dubai awaits, as does its shopping. Seeing I did a little more shopping in England than expected, I dont think I will be able to go crazy in Dubai, but if a good bargain comes my way, then I am not exactly going to turn it down now, am I?

Time for me to go. Love to you all, and if there are no internet cafes in Dubai, then my next entry will be next week, when I am back to work.

To all those that provided wise words, accommodation, any other assistance while I've been gone (incl. Annie who has been my personal secretary and my mother, who has been my conscience), thank you all so much. Its been a trip of a life time.

K

Overwhelmed in London

Its been a little while since I last wrote so firstly I must apologise to all reading. Secondly, this computer at the hostel doesnt have an exposed USB port so I am unable to update some photos.

Now that the formal apologies have been provided, I now must somehow update you all on what has happened since leaving Paris.

After leaving Paris, and having spent almost five days there, I was eager to get out and see another side of France - the France that you see with the sprawling fields and old towns. I was also determined to do some Chateau spotting. However, when planning my trip, I only gave myself one day to do all of this. Not smart. After realising that by the time I got out of Paris and into the Loire Valley, it would be around 2pm. And that would leave me about 4 hours to find some Chateaux, find a place to stay, and then work out how to get to the Loire Valley airport ready to fly out to London at 12 midday the following day. All of this would need to be done by using french trains and buses.

After working out that I would all be too hard, I pulled out the trusty Amex card, caught a train to Tours (the main town/city), walked into Avis Hire Cars, got myself a car and hit the road. What an experience. Firstly, I made a right fool out of myself by climbing into the drivers side only to realise that it was actually the passengers side. Then once working out where to sit, I put my foot on the clutch, started the car, and by the sound of the god-awful revving of the little 306 Peugeot, the clutch was actually the accelerator and then i reached for the gear stick (stick shift) only to get the handle that opens the window - the stick was actually on the other side too. It was raining, so in an attempt to turn the wipers on, I got my right blinker and when turning left out the street, I increased the speed of my wiper blades. All was not going to be well on the french roads, it would seem. However, they were teething problems, and the rest of the driving day occured without any major incident.

I ended up finding a place to stay in the grounds of the Chateau de Chambord and stayed the night, then off I went to catch my flight back to London.

(my time on the internet is running out)

Then I went straight down to Liphook, which is down in Surrey/West Sussex to stay the weekend with Janine. Far too many wines were consumed, a day was spent in the glorious English sunshine (no, really, it was sunny) at the Goodward Races (I lost miserably, but silently came to the conclusion that it was worth the cost for a great day out) and just enjoyed the general day to day living of an English village. I made a load of friends and it was great to finally see Janine again (my best friend from my uni days).

Now I am back in London and I'm once again overwhelmed by the pace of this city. Having taken about 4000 photos, and am suffering great photo fatigue, i havent really done too much of the sight seeing activities. I've been checking out the shops and enjoying the unusual english sunshine.

Oh, and I am also trying to work out how to get my phone back, which I have accidently left down with Janine. ARGGGH! Trip back down to Surrey I think on Wednesday, before I fly out Wednesday night.

Then it is off to Dubai for me and depending on the bank balance (which has dwindled incredibly since arriving back in London) I am going to hit the Dubai Duty Free!!!

Love to all.

Oh and Janine, you have my phone!!!

Ma, message me on my other number. I'm trying to recharge it somehow but am not having the greatest of luck. Failing that, will phone you from one of those cute little red telephone box that eats lots of my money.

Talk soon to ya'all

XOXOXOXO

K

Lessons on Paris

Having spent three days in Paris, I'm beginning to see a lot more than the average tourist would see in a usual fly-by-night visit. I'm slowly becoming more aware of the Parisian lifestyle, and am beginning to get the hang of the bus, metro and regional train systems.

I have learnt that there are certain rules to Paris. These include, but are not limited to:

1. No one will speak to you unless you speak to them.

2. You've got less of a chance that they wil speak to you if you dont speak their language.

3. You need to find common ground with them. You need to find the thing that is universally understood or shared before you can connect with them. This can be anything from going up and patting their dog and saying "J'Mappelle" which is as close to "name" as I can work out, to joining them in rolling your eyes at a rude tourist. Or if you are patting their dog, you give it your best shot to guess the dog's breed. Usually they are called the same thing in each country. I then say "Pardon, Englais" which is an apology for lack of french understanding. They will mostly smile as you pay attention first to their dog and then to them.

4. Always address them straight away, for example "Bonjour Monsiour" even if they are looking away. If they here it, they look up and will say "Bonjour" back. If I want to sit down somewhere or do something particular, you say "Zhe Per" (writing it how its said, not spelt!). That is "may i?". This can be used for a lot of things, including at train stations if you want a ticket. Usually I can say "may i?" in french and then swap to English to say "ticket". Parisians seem to like it that you've atleast given it a go.

The most important rule I have learnt over the past 24 hours is that you should always be vigilent. I've been approached by normal anglo saxon white men dressed well with not so normal intentions. I always start to get a bit suspicious of them once they begin to ask whether I am on my own or in a group. I of course have learnt to lie, by saying that I am in a group, and that I would be re-joining them (*quick glance at watch*) in about fifteen minutes. Often enough, they leave the conversation at that. Its concerning the number of times it has happened.

*tune out, Mum!*

Last night, I was enjoying the beautiful view of the Lourve by night. Then I was approached by a weirdo. He asked the usual "where am I from?" "how long am I here" and of course the "are you with a group or on your own?" As usual, I said that I was with a group and that I would be meeting back up with them at (*exaggerated glance at watch*) fifteen minutes. He, unlike the others, did not leave it there. He asked if i would like to "go for a walk". Sensing that this was odd, I made him repeat the question again. He stammered and said "Walk? You like to walk with me?".

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

Firstly, it was dark. In hindsight, I shouldnt have been there, even though it was a major tourist attraction. I was female and I was on my own. I was stupid.

Secondly, he was a stranger and what naive, silly female would accept an offer to go for a walk from a stranger in her own country, let alone a foreign one?!

Thirdly, and what has mostly stuck in my head, was the fact that this guy wasnt normal after all. He couldnt hold my gaze, was chewing gum profusely and while it was almost 2 degrees celcius outside, he was sweating. After a kind rejection of "Erm, I dont think so", I high-tailed it out of there and didnt look back.

For the first time in all of my travels over the years, I felt as though my safety was at risk, and that I was way out of my league being out in the middle of Paris at night on my own. Incidents like that made me realise that I am not so invincible, and even though I had taken precautions by staying in well lit areas, not carrying too many valuable items, etc, my safety was still at risk just being there. So, as I took the bus home, I took out my newly purchased Swiss Army knife and kept it in my pocket, "just in case". Who knows that I would have done with it if I was approached again!!!! I wouldnt know how to threaten someone!!! But it still gave me a feeling of security (albeit still small) in order to get me home.

After that, while it wasnt a major incident, it was enough for me to become a little more serious about my security, and not take my independence too much for granted.

Today, despite being a little wound up after last night, I still managed to have probably the best day on tour yet. I left the frenetic Paris pace behind and took a train out to Versailles, which is about half an hour out. Versailles was once the political capital of France, and around the 17th Century, Louis XIV (who was known for his extravagence) built himself a massive Chateau. Despite the freezing cold, I managed to find the serenity that I was in dire need of, after being in Paris. The Chateau is spread over hundreds of hectares, with perfectly manicured gardens and huge trees that drop their crispy leaves every time the autumn winds would blow. I spent much of the day trying out different styles of photography and have so many pictures its to the point of nauseam. I have photographers fatigue! The rest of the afternoon was spent on a rickety old bicycle, which I rode around the sparse, but peaceful, Chateau gardens. It was how I imagined I would be spending my time in France. I loved every moment of it.

Heading home, I was at the mercy of Parisian industrial action. Yes, ironically enough, all metro, bus and regional transport staff were on strike!!! I wandered around Versailles jammed station trying to look for a union delegate or officer, but then I realised that given my very average French, I wouldnt have been able to negotiate an outcome for either party this time. However, I did look through my French dictionary for the following words:

"we're workers united, we'll never be defeated."

I couldnt work it out, so I instead directed my efforts towards trying to get a train back into Paris rather than causing industrial trouble in a forgein country.

The regional trains were fine enough to work out during the strike, but the metro was another story. Either it was the strike, or it was peak time (or a combination of both), getting on the metro was like running the gauntlet seen last on Gladiator (a terrible, corny australian TV show axed back in the 90's). After climbing up onto the back of some poor fellow and stage diving my way into the middle of the carriage, I then had to clutch my belongings close to me to ensure that a Snoop Dogg look-a-like didnt steal anything. I wasnt so concerned about my backpack with my camera, passport, or wallet, but I just didnt want him taking any of the groceries that I had purchases back at Versailles for my dinner tonight.

After scenes similar to that of a mosh pit, upon arriving at Anvers, my metro station, I have a definate height and weight disadvantage and there was a fear that I wouldnt get out of the carriage in time before the doors shut. So, I dropped to the floor and commando rolled my way out instead. Okay, maybe that was a little exaggerated, but I used my lack of height to squeeze my way under people to get out. In hindsight, it was darn funny.

Tomorrow, I am heading back out of Paris on another day trip, this time out west to Normandy, and in particular, Mont St. Michel which is apparently a pretty amazing part of France. I'm desperate to take photos of Paris by night, including the Eiffel Tower lit up, but I think I am going to put my safety first and just by a postcard.

Anyway, this is me signing off cause I want to be back at the hostel before dark. Still not able to post pictures, but I may come back tomorrow to give it another go.

Hooorooo!

K

Woohoo! Photos!

Given my self imposed ban on night time activities, I've returned to the Internet shop and have worked out photos!!

Chateau de Versailles

Gay Paree' - Bonjour!!

I find myself sitting here in a Paris internet cafe and I cant believe it. Only yesterday, I was scaling the Swiss Alps, and today, I am in the city of love. Interlaken hit bad weather yesterday so I figured it was better to move on early than to sit and wait for the rain to go. Rainy weather was predicted for the next two days so I decided to book my ticket to Paris two days early.

After saying goodbye to my new found friends in Interlaken, I boarded a TGV train bound for Paris. Unfortunately, it didnt go straight to Paris. It went via Lausanne and Geneva and half of the other major cities in Europe!! So it took about six hours, rather than the advertised three hours. Given that I was on one of the high speed trains, I would have hated to have done the same trip on a regional train.

I arrived at Paris de Lyon, the major train station at about 11pm. Armed with some very dodgy directions via text from mum to a hotel they stayed in when they were in Paris in June, I begun my journey into central Paris. I managed to work out the metro easily enough, but those who know me well will know I am not all that good at reading maps. After coming out of the metro at what I thought was the closest metro station to the hotel, I wandered around with a 20kg backpack on my back, Lonely Planet in one hand, and mobile phone with the text messages from mum. I waddled up and down every street I thought would take me to "Hotel Opera Madrid" for at least an hour, before I decided to test a Parisian's hospitality (or lack thereof, as they are notoriously known). "Escusimoi, poly vou Englay?" I say in bad French (I memorised that saying only an hour prior from the Euroupe language guide). The young Parisian girl seemed eager enough to help, so she reviewed my map, looked at my text message with the address, looked at my map once more, and pointed down the steet. "Merci boucooo" I say and trod off down the street. I didnt find it (and in hindsight, she managed to get me more lost, by pointing in the opposite direction). I thought I would attempt fate and ask another Parisian, so this time I tried a youngish male. "Escusimoi, poly vou Englay???" He shakes his head but points to another girl with him. I sigh with relief as she takes the reigns, and begins to decifer my puzzle of instructions.

One and a half hours later, one phone call to the hotel, three kilometres of walking, and a cry for help to a Parisian taxi driver, we finally came across Hotel Opera Madrid - the street beside the one I was standing by when I asked the first girl back about two hours ago.

By the time I said goodbye to my new found Parisian friends (who'd spent one and a half hours helping me!), tried to pay them 20 euro (which they refused) and tried to offer them Swiss Chocolate I had bought at the supermarket back in Interlaken, I went in and checked into the room.

ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY EUROS? How does that work? I'm on my own, its 1am in the morning, and I have to check out at 11am?? "Expensiff?" The hotel attendant says, as he shrugs carelessly. "Perhaps, wie. But I giff you a big rooooom, and breakfast, for the price offf the single." I say to Jean-Marie (I cant remember his name - it was late) that "its okay, I just want a bed, wie?". He smiles and hands me the card for Room 10.

After cramming myself and my 20 kg backpack into the lift (which I am sure was built for the purposes of carrying one child-size person at a time), I dragged my stuff into Room 10.

Well.

I recieved 130 euros worth of hotel room. The place looked dodgy outside, but I went into the room and found that it was actually an apartment - with two tvs, a huge bath tub, lounge room, hallway, heater, two basins, huge king size bed. I have a feeling that Jean Marie took pity on me and gave me the best room in the hotel. Of course, he knew I'd only be using the room for about ten hours.

I used my 130 euros worth of room. Until about 2.30am, I busily did all of my washing, recharged all of my electronic gadgets with their power supply, spread by bags across all four rooms and sorted what was junk and what wasnt. I even managed to catch some late night/early morning French talk show.

So here I am in Paris, and it is sprinkling rain. I dont mind though. A little rain in Paris is a lot better than a little rain in Interlaken. Due to the canyoning disaster in 1999 (22 people died in a canyoning accident), the operators in Interlaken are now ultra-safety cautious, and all activities more or less stop the minute rain is in sight. They havent canyoned or rafted since the floods last month, which was a shame because I was all ready to go and jump into some waterfalls.

Today was free museum day! Every first Sunday of each month, Paris opens up all of their museams for free for one day. So I took advantage of this (and the fact that it was a little rainy) to go and see the Lourve. Wow. After spending an hour and a half in a queue (which is actually not that bad, for the Lourve!), I spent nearly four hours in there and I did not even touch the surface of what lies within that amazing place. I managed to squeeze my way through all of the other cheap-skates that were using the free day to their advantage, and was able to see the Mona Lisa (what is the fascination with that girl?), the Venus Di Milo and many other masterpieces.

This afternoon, I dragged my bags from Hotel Opera Madrid to the backpackers hostel (what a change in scenery that was!) which is located in probably the dingiest, smelliest area of town, right near the Moulin Rouge. Dont panic, Mum, the place is well lit and there are heaps of people around. The hostel, while not exactly the Ritz Carlton (or Madrid!), it is very clean, friendly, and warm. I cannot ask for more. I will be spending the next four days only sleeping there, nothing else. And Paris is expensive so I need to save as many euros as I can!

Anyway, this is me signing off. I have bought myself a royal blue beret which I plan to where around to give me an authentic Parisian look (?!) and I have to now head back to the hostel and practice my "Weee Monsiour" and "Bonjour, J'Mappelle Kathryn".

Au Reviour!

K


P.S GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO the mighty Tigers!!! They won the Grand Final today! GO YOU GOOD THING!

P.P.S On a serious note, my thoughts and prayers to those in Bali right now. Its times like these which put things in perspective, and make me want to be home with my family and friends....