Saturday, 30 June 2012

Slumdog Millionaire

Gi Ho...

May 2012. The Indian Adventure.

BA Business Class. This is better than you can actually imagine. First off the Club world Lounge. Food and all the drink you can wish for. My tipple of choice today is Grey Goose Citrone with 7up or Diet Coke. Accompanied with pastries, then olives than some salad/sandwiches without crusts, You know you've made it when the sandwiches lose their crusts haha.

Boarded the 10 hour flight from Heathrow to Hyderabad. Water, Orange juice or Champagne Madame??
CHAMPAGNE. Everytime. In a real glass I might add, not plastic. I have a pillow, a duvet, a personal tv, a reclining seat; the works. I heart business class. So three glasses of champagne down and the next thing I know we're 1.5 hours into the flight and the air hostess is asking what I would like to eat (from the menu choice - you get a choice?!?) as I was asleep when they took the orders, oh and would I like a top up of the champagne; she informs me I'm the only one on the champers so I have the whole bottle to get through; not a problem love!.

 
Watched We Bought a Zoo. I sobbed. This is the point the head of the cabin crew decides to park herself on the nearest seat to start up a conversation on my first experience in Club World. Kinda busy 'ere. Anyway, had the food; amazing!!! On real plates  and real knifes and forks AND I got chocolate ice cream; WINNER.

Sleeping tablet time. I ask for a vodka diet coke. The drink they brought was literally laced with vodka; so much so you could see through it. This got me to sleep for all of an our and half. So more vodka and another sleeping tablet required got me through another 2.5 hours.

Landed in Hyderabad local time 4:30. I'm shattered. Even the 'free' Elemis spa set is not disguising the bags under my eyes. For the first time I experience India's heat. 30 degrees. Its 5am. 30 degrees. My oh my. Checked in for the Air India flight to Vizag; the only person who checked my passport was the guy who took it for ID on entering the actual airport. Went the toilet, the lady wanted a tip. Are you f-ing kidding me, you opened the door, and i have zero cash to its tough luck.

Boarded the flight; pretty much empty, tried to get some sleep but excitement got the better of me and I didn't catch a wink. Landed in Hyderabad and got offered taxis all over the shop. Oh and they stare. Like properly stare at you. Now I know what its like to be in the minority. Couldn't find my taxi man which resulted in a slight panic on my part and then running over a mans foot with the luggage trolley. Anyways, found the taxi driver. Indian roads leave a lot to be desired. The drive was relatively normal but there's all these mini buses/fruit wagon type things. Motorcyclist's don't wear helmets and on driving to the hotel I realise that Comic Relief isn't a big blag; this place really is poverty stricken.
Hotel is A-Amazing. Pool overlooking Bengal Bay. I sleep for a bit then head to the pool. Its hot, like well hot but there's a cool breeze from the sea. Apparently its safe to venture out but maybe I'll leave that for tomorrow. Hotels in the shade in the afternoon so I head to the spa for a pedicure and my eyebrows threading and book myself in for a body scrub; it's so cheap it would be rude not to.

Curry for lunch. This was good, massala type thing with garlic naan. Yuuuuuuuuuuummmmmmmmy. So, back to the pool for a read of the old kindle and a bottle of beer. Bud. They don't have Cobra so my hopes of dancing to the Black Keys Gold on the Ceiling a la Cobra tv ad style are dashed for the time being. However, whilst sipping said beer overlooking the sea a new song comes on the ipod which is the theme tune of my life for the next hour: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1ed8NBPmits Two Door Cinema Club. This is the Life.

Tea is burning hot lentil and tomato curry avec Kingfisher beer. Theres a horrendous storm, with fork lightening, the works. The leccy kept cutting out so I was eating in the dark but it was cool to watch the lightening dancing over the sea. Couple of vodkas in the bar writing this very blog. Day One done. Pretty good so far!! :-)

Day Two. Shiiiiiit. Forgot to take my malaria tablet yesterday, doing well Catherine I see. Oh well, I haven't even seen a mosquito yet. I'll be fine. Watermelon, eggs, papaya and coffee for breakfast. Papaya tastes like vomit. Never again!!! I resume my spot by the pool; maybe tomorrow I'll venture out?? Barman; can I make you a cocktail ma'am. Let me think about that for all of one second. Yes you can. Cocktail is good. Time for a cigarette. Cigaretta, cocktail, sitting by the pool in 40 degree heat. Life is good. So whilst I slowly get drunk/smoke myself to death I am beginning to realise I am the hotels latest attraction. A white lady, in a bikini, smoking and drinking. WTF. One teenage girl shyly asks for a picture with me, I look like crap but I oblige. Mistake. This draws in the crowds with anyone by the pool wanting a picture.

Full body scrub done, nap and tea. Then yep, bar again. I'm slightly worried about developing an alcohol problem but other than go the bar what am I supposed to do?? TV is shocking; it's not safe to go outside the hotel alone and I can't sit in my room, cabin fever will get me way faster there. So off I go, armed with laptop and kindle for a lonely night in the bar. The pool/barman sees me on facebook and makes me add him there a then. Little weird but never mind. I'm beginning to realise India people are very different in terms of social situations ie whats appropriate and what isn't. They burp and spit all the time. Clearing the throat turns my stomach, as does belching yet they don't see it as anything wrong. The men seem to think its their god given right to sit with you even if you look like you're busy. It's not like their fit, I probably wouldn't mind if they were...

Day 3. Ok, I need some normal conversation other than hotel staff/guests wanting to know hows my day been out of politeness/wheres the white lady from. Monday. Its a work day. So I fire up the laptop and head down to the pool. I can work and get a tan. This is a good working day!

The guys arrive and we agree to have dinner at 7:30. They are nice, not quite like me but I think thats an age difference but hey at least its a conversation. The pool boy is currently my new best mate and after his revelation that if he leaves the hotel he's going to jail well I want to distance myself as much as possible.

Day 4. One hour and a quarter drive or should I say near death experience to get to the plant. Man. That drive was horrendous. Cars and auto rickshaws everywhere. Driving policy; just go. Christ. Cows all over the shop. Pigs, rubbish, street traders. This is industrial India though and not the brightly coloured bazaars and streets you might imagine. It's horrible. Dirty. Outrageously poor. We pass through a kind of farming area, theres these little teepee shape huts made wood and covered with palms. I'm not sure if thats shelter for the cows or a persons house. I suspect the latter. Pretty standard day at work. However, this wobbling of the head is really beginning to hack me off now. You ask a question, the people give a none committal answer and wobble the head. If you don't know, stop wasting my time and say you don't know rather than leading me up the garden path and then I find out anyway!

So back to the hotel and dinner. Curry. Again. Boom. However, we do mix things up a little today and go the the hotels second restaurant. A typical Indian restaurant. It was good. So, beer anyone? No, they're gonna go to the room. This is gonna be a long two weeks. I had resolved not to smoke during the week, but i look like a loser just drinking, and i don't know what to do with my hands and the Indians think I'm mental sitting outside just for the sake of it. So I light up.

Day 5. Work done. Curry done. Bar. Here I meet Revanth and his mate. Revanth is staying at the hotel, he's been here three months. His mate's Dad is the hotel owner. These Indians are rich. Revanth went to uni in New Zealand and his mate in Leeds, so not typically Indian. I have time for them, they are normal and not just out to marry me. This sounds presumptuous that every man wants to marry me, but in India getting married is the aim of life. Anyway, we swap numbers as we're around the same age and its someone to hang out with.

Theres a group of middle aged men, getting drunk who decide I should join them. I don't want to, even if they're just being friendly, they look pervy. Q Cristian to the rescue. Cristians Italian. It was his birthday the day before so he buys beers. He's short. Thats unfortunate as he's quite cute otherwise. He's an engineer working at a pharmaceutical factory installing a machine with his colleague Massimo. He offers to be my friend and in some kind of unspoken agreement I know that Cristian will be here everynight as someone to talk to. YIEEES!

Nothing much happens on Thursday, except me and Cristian are by now seriously bored of India. Sick of being stuck in the hotel, sick of the head wobble, sick of curry and sick of excuses. It would be fair to say Thursday is a downer day.

Friday. PARTY TIME. No. We're in India. I sincerely doubt anything different will happen tonight than any other night except Revanth has text to go for a drink. So, me and Cristian meet Revanth at the bar. His friend Varsha (girl who went to uni in England - get in I have a female friend!!) and Vijay are here too as it's his birthday. Is this a miniature party potentially?? Yes. It was. Beers and shots all round. All purchased by Revanth and Vijay. Everyone discussses travels/music/films and we get drunk. Then we play taps. No ordinary taps, everytime you're out you have to do a shot. Oh my god. I've taken to saying this a lot as Cristian says it alllllll the time. The guys tell us of some bars to go on Saturday, they can name all of two thats how exciting Vizag is, but they promise to take us out on Saturday night. Brilliant.

Saturday morning. Alarm goes off. My head hurts and oh shit. Theres a man in my bed. Goes by the name of Cristian. Fuck a duck. Make from this what you will but I'm gonna put it out there, whatever you're thinking is probably correct. Cristian goes to work, I nurse my hangover yet again by the pool.

Got to get ourselves up for the 'big night out', so I have dinner with Cristian and Massimo; the guys from work waved me off in the lift with a 'see you on Monday' on Friday night so I'm not banking on seeing them at all this weekend. Thank god for the Italians. I would have nothing to do. Anyway, Revanth and Varsha text, they aren't coming out, too hungover. Me and the Italians go for a walk. Yes like an actual walk where I left the hotel without the saftey of a car. Immediately I realise this is a mistake. The people stare, the kids come upto you begging, people whistle and shout to you. Masimmo and Cristian have taken to calling me Kate, after Kate Middleton, because the Indians are 'so obssessed by the white lady I must be royalty'. We go back after about 15 minutes and decide to try and get the Champions League on in the bar. This is a battle. The bar is shut at 11. Match kicks off at 11:30. We call Revanth. Revanth sorts it.

Kick off. The bar doesn't have subscription to the channel. FFS. Revanth again sorts it. Chelsea win. It's 3:30 after extra time and penalties. Bed time.

Sunday! Whoop. The guys from Cristian and Massimos work are taking us to the beach, I say us as I spend all my free time with them. They are fun and have introduced me to Tacata. The most stupid but fun song ever. Tacata cheers us all up when we are discussing how shit Vizag is. Sandeep, Locesh and someone else pick us up at 12. We stop for beers and head to the beach. Lets catch some rays!!! No, Kate, you must leave your clothes on. I'm sorry, I beg your pardon. Crisitan informs me Sandeep has told him I need to leave my shorts and t shirt on for my own safety or I will get mobbed. Brilliant. You can still go in the sea but must leave your clothes on. Er hello, have you never heard of chaffing?? Shorts + sea = chaffe. No ta. I'll sit here on the beach  and drink beers why yous go in the sea. Secretly I think I have the better deal here.

The boys get a body board and go off playing. Its a shame Cristians so short, he's actually fun and even a little bit funny too. Lunchtime. Sandeep takes us to a local resort hotel and we have curried crab and chicken from the Tandoor with some noodles and more beers. Life is good. I'm beginning to see a pattern of food + beer = happy Catherine! We now have a favourite song being Tacata by Tacabro. Cristian and Massimo introduced me to it and whenever theres a quiet/bored moment, we break out into sing and dance to Tacata. This has been established over the course of the week but I forgot to mention it.

Back to the beach and I go in the sea. I took my shorts off but left on the top. We go to the cable cars. My god it looks rickety. I don't like cable cars at the best of times, let alone rickety looking ones in India. The boys buy flowers for my hair, this is tradition in South India. I do my best 'Kate Middleton' waving and saying hello to all the children/ladies in the cable car queue. At the top there is huge marble statues of the gods Shiva and Parvati. We go to the top of a building which is the highest point in Vizag for a view of Vizag at night. We then get pieces of material tied around our wrists, and sandlewood put between our eyes and do Namaste. We head back down in the cable car, one last stop for coconut and back to the hotel. I'm knackered. Today was a good day.



Work. Dull. Food, bar for a beer. Cristian wants me to go for a party in his room. No. I'm tired. I go to bed. The next day I wake up sick. I feel as rough as a bears arse and I'm convinced I have malaria. No you don't Cath, its just the dreaded Delhi belly. I go straight to bed when I get in from work, after calling maintenance as I've tripped the electric in the room. I want to cry over a fricking light. Defs time for a sleep. I wake upto a text of Crisitian worried as he didn't see me at dinner. He comes to see me 'to make me smile' and brings water to make me feel better. Did I mention it's a shame he's so short?? And he keeps insisting I go to Bologna on holiday to visit him. Sure; I love holidays and Italy!!! He's still too short.

Wednesday I feel better but still sick. I nap after work again and wake to another text from Crisitian saying he has some weed if I want some. Hell yeah. I go for a spliff then make a classic excuse of I need to go call my mum. Cristian has got on to the fact I am always sleepy/tired/sick/need to call my mum when it's time for what he calls 'relax'. He's sulking. Shame. He was fun.

Thursday. Work's all done except for the closing meeting. Boom. Party time. Meet Varsha and Revanth by the pool and arrange a drink as its Cristians and Massimos last night. I text Cristian. He isn't coming, he's tired. Yeah right, sulking more like. Needless to say, he turns up and buys the drinks anyway. We say our tearful (they weren't) goodbyes and go to bed. I go to Cristians for a smoke. You can make the rest up by yourself.

Friday night. I am bored. Nobody to hang out with. Go to the bar with the manager. Mumbai tomorrow. WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOP!!! Get me out of Vizag!

View of Mumbai Slum from Hotel
First day in Mumbai. It looks relatively normal, except for the traffic. Horrendous. I honestly don't think I've ever experienced traffic as bad anywhere in all my life. Bumper to bumper. And the beggars knock on the windows of the cars which is a little daunting and a bit upsetting. We're staying at the Holiday Inn by the airport which is North Mumbai. The action is in South Mumbai. The pools on the roof so I head there with a stash of tourist paraphanailia and my ipod. Saturday night we get the hotel car down town to find Leopold cafe, famous for the terrorist attacks in 2008. The car gets lost but eventually after an hour and a half we find it. Its cool. It has music, beer and food in that order and is full of travellers/young people. I like it. A lot.

Sunday morning I take a tour of the slums. Really good tour. I was amazed as I was expecting beggars but the slums are actually a mini industry recycling all of Mumbais rubbish generating lots of cash. The living conditions admitedly leave a lot to be desired as does the sanitation, but so interesting.I learnt so much about the different trades, the difference between the muslim and hindu slums and the education of slum children. It's quite humbling and I make a mental note to give more money to comic relief. http://www.realitytoursandtravel.com/

View of the Bay
Nightmare with a taxi driver, the original one has swapped with his brother; more like with a rip off merchant. I have decided to go to the Taj Mahal Hotel for lunch, again famous for the 2008 terrorist attacks. The taxi driver pulls upto a shop nearby telling me I must go in the shop. They're on commission from shops to take tourists there, a common scam. I told him I'm not going in the shop. Therefore I walk to the hotel. Amazing hotel with staff with turbans like the guy out of Annie. Very British Maharaja type style and I felt the need to keep saying 'quintisensually british' over and over in my head. I don't even know what this means. Anyway, I digress. I have samosas in the Sea Lounge overlooking the Bay and the Gateway to India. I also drink Jasmine Tea which apparently isn't Indian tea, only Darjeeling and Assam is Indian tea, fucked up there didn't I but Jasmine smelt and tasted good.

After lunch I went for a walk and to take a few pictures of the Gateway. Harassed might come close. I was nigh on mobbed for pictures and photographs. The Gateway is a monument the British built during the colonial times to celebrate the vist of King George V and Queen Mary, it was the monument first seen by those arriving by the sea. Anyway! British monument, white girl, feeding frenzy for the Indian tourists wanting pictures left right and centre. Needless to say I escaped to go find the taxi driver. He was asleep, so I woke him up and asked where the Gandi museum was. He pointed me in the general direction and sent me on my way. Wrong museum dickhead. It was the Prince of Wales museum. So back I went and explained. He didn't get it. Asked me to go in the shop again 'for just 5 minutes ma'am' repeatedly. Wrong girl to try and bully into doing something I don't want to do. I didn't go in the shop. Couldn't find the Gandhi museum...after several stops to ask other drivers we eventually found it. The house wasn't that great to be honest. Interesting but slightly dull. I want a cold beer. I ask the diver to take me to Leopold Cafe, he moans 'we've just come from there', I was paying, don't really get is issue, then asks me am I ok, we argue again and I tell him to just return me to the hotel. He does, he tries to get an extra 50 Rupees out of me for parking. Does he actually think I was born yesterday?!? Not a chance in hell mate. In fact, I want a refund for your bad attitude. Parking indeed.

Now I get a nice relaiable hotel car back into town for the Mumbai by night tour where I meet an American called Karina. The tour guide meets us and we go to Marine Drive and Chowpatty Beach; the most popular in Mumbai. We then go to a water bank and walk to a Jain temple. Visitors can't go in the Jain temple but you can look inside. Very decorative and ornate. Then to the hanging gardens, with a view over the bay and the queens necklace. It's called this a) because of the british b) because of the shape of the bay and c) because the lights look like pearls. So basically, the bay is the queens pearl necklace??? I don't think this translates well...

After a drive through the red light district (where there is a police station at the end of the very road - pointed out as an indicator of how corrupt India is!) and a visit to the Station (a World Heritage Site) me and Karina go to Leopolds for a beer where we meet Faye and her mate. They're cool and we go to Cafe Mondegar for more beer. I'm shattered, and have work tomorrow so its home time for Chadders.

Monday. Forever known as Indias day of food. OMG WTF. I have never eaten so much in one day in my life. After breakfast I'm waiting for Arek, nothing, I call his room and we're only being picked up at 10am. School girl!! Nevermind, pool/tan for an hour it is then :-). After another 1.5 hour drive to the warehouse they're really is not a lot we can do. Count a bit of glass, check the doors etc. Samir takes us to a Chinese all you can eat buffet. The Dim Sum was good! Chubby chubbster over here ate faaaaar too much, but the chocolate in batter was too good to be true, what was I supposed to do??

Samir drops us back at the hotel so I go work by the pool. I love my job though I am beginning to worry if the laptop can overheat and explode, I guess I'll find out. 6:30pm Samir and his wife pick us up to take us for some tea and drinks. We head to Jatsu beach and try some street food. Eeeek. Living dangerously. It was so good. We tried hkljhfkjsn which costs less than a pound here but Samir informs me you can expect to pay aroun £15 for a dish of this is London. We then try hkfhszkjs which is like vegetable curry with bread and some Indian ice cream. It's creamier than ice cream from home and i love it. Done. No. Samir said thats just the starter and they take us to a restaurant called Out of the Blue in Central Mumbai. I was soo full it was untrue so ordered Margherita chicken thinking this would be manageable, no carbs. Except it came with a pile of rice and chips. URGH. I feel sick but I 'must leave room for dessert. Catherine you love chocolate you cannot leave this restaurant without trying one, I won't let you.' Ok. I order the chocolate brownie sizzler with kahlua. NOBODY ELSE ORDERS A DESSERT. They're all too full. Excuse me, I'm about to explode here but got one as I thought everyone else was too. Flippin' great.

The dessert arrives. Its on a sizzling plate, they pour chocolate sauce and the kahlua on it, theres smoke everywhere, the chocolate all caramelises. It tastes like heaven. I'm glad i got the dessert!

Tuesday morning is work from the hotel day. I'm sat by the pool. I can feel all the curry beginning to take effect on my body. And lack of exercise. Bits are wobbling which shouldn't be wobbling. Note to self. STOP EATING!!! That said, I had for dinner at another hotel to their restaurant called Peswari. The food was amazing and you eat with your hands, knives and forks not allowed, and actually this primitive way of eating was fun, even if I was on my own.

5:30am get up for the flight to Delhi. I'm knackered and fall asleep almost instantly on the flight. Seriously got to stop falling asleep before take off though, if we crash I'm never gonna know what to do!! And taking off is a pretty violent wake up call!! I arrive in Delhi and the hotel car is there. A toyota 4x4. I want a 4x4 now. The driver takes it upon himself to point out all the monuments in Delhi. Its extremely British looking which the driver informs me is from when the British were here and an architect called Lutyens designed all the buildings. We arrive at the hotel and are Namaste'ing all over the shop. The hotel is nice. Like really nice. http://theimperialindia.com/

I go for a wander. It's daunting, with people staring, trying to drag you in shops, rickshaws and taxis all trying to get your business but I manage to find my way to Wengers a cool bakery and get some iced tea and a cake. Its roasting, like 45 degrees. As I walk along eating my cheesecake, a child comes upto me and steals the cake out of my hands and runs away. If they went to that much bother and are really that hungry they can have it!!

I go to a bar called Q'BA with a roof terrace but its too hot to sit in the sun so I sit inside and will a nice cold cocktail. It was here that later on I would make some new friends. I took my first ride on a rickshaw to a tourist office whom straight away I decided was fake and trying to rip me off so I headed to the foreign rail office at the rail station. Not great and I had no passport so couldn't buy a ticket anyway. Went and did a little shopping and then headed back to the hotel for an hour by the pool before the 'free' yoga class after eating my 'free' fruit platter, which was again amazing.

So Q'BA bar for tea and drinks on the terrace. Sitting outside makes eating/drinking alone more socially acceptable. I get talking to an American but then they're dinner arrives so I go back to minding my own business. The a couple (also American) ask to share my table. I go to the loo and return to find American guy and his mate have now joined also and actually we are now all friends and are going out. The American guys from New York, a trader and is fit. We go to a club which is dead, the other Americans are cosmetic surgeons/beauty people and have worked on Rhianna! They show us pictures to prove it. Fit American is fit. I didn't.

So this getting the train thing to Agra is proving pretty difficult. Its sold out. I go to an office and meet a guy called Singh who helps plan the rest of the trip. I look at the hotels etc, it's actually ok, we've changed my trip to include Udaipur and overall it seems better and more safe. I have a car for the day for Deli too so go to the Red Fort. Pretty cool. But the photographs are being taken again by every tom, dick and harry and they start to piss me off. This foreign tourist skip the line business however I do like. I get the driver to take me to Humayans Tomb. This is the original Taj Mahal and it's well cool. Way better than the Fort. It's 45 degrees again. I'm too hot. I want the pool. Sight seeing is over for the day. Pool it is.

At the fort I bumped into a lady staying at my hotel and we have a brief chat. Shes at the pool so we conclude to go for dinner together. We go to Karims; a cool local place but it's closed so I take her to Q'BA. It's embarassing now, the staff recognise me as if I'm a regular which I guess I am going twice in two days but Cayan likes it. Shes about my mums age, an interior/artist from Canada has just arrived from Cashmere were she was buying rugs/materials to sell. She's very interesting and gave me a card to call when in Toronto. She has some very interesting stories a tips for travelling alone! We have a drink and smoke and head back. I'm tired. Busy night lastnight! Singh calls wanting to go for a beer. Yeah right mate. He was pretty fit but I don't think he really just wants a beer. The next morning I wake up to 5 texts off him asking to come to my hotel. Unbelievable.

Friday. Agra travel time. After pool obvs. I do a little shopping for jewels and elephants statues etc. This was for Mother but I've changed my mind. Elephants mine. Sorry Mum! Driver Rahul arrives. He's pretty cool and his English is good. He takes me to the Gate of India; a massive arch. Its cool. A lady pins some piece of paper on me with the Indian flag on and tries to charge me 100 rupees for the privelige. Jog on love. Oh and great the pin has pricked me. Am I upto date with Tetanus??? As we're leaving, we're driving along and overtake a Elephant on the road. Yes. An elephant. Rahul pulls over so I can have my picture with Nelly. On the drive we also see a camel!! As well as horses and of course cows. Lots and lots of cows.

The drive to Agra is 4 hours long. Rahul lets me put my ipod on. DMX X gon' give it to you blasting out in India probably isn't appropriate. He turns it down. As with most of the songs until Sean Paul comes on and he turns it up, oh you like this one do you Rahul? Saturdays come on, apparently he likes them too as he didnt't turn it down. Shortly afterwards however he tells me the ipod needs to take a rest now and puts Punjabi music on. Guetta, Avicii and the Black Keys clearly aren't his thing! I don't understand a word of Punjabi, so Rahul proceeds to try and explain what the songs mean. Deaf ears mate, I ain't interested in the words. Rahul then decides to tell me he doesn't know where the hotel is. I fucking freak. Brilliant. Ripped off by yet another Indian. Bloody Singh and co. Actually Ma'am, I'm just joking. Little fucker. He knew, but thought it was funny to wind me up.

Hotels nice. Indian snacks and Kingfisher. Bed.

5am. Wake up to visit Mr Taj Mahal. AMAZING. MAGNIFICENT. WONDERFUL. I can say no more. And I saw monkeys and bright green parrots. What more could you want??

Jaipur tonight. Oh yeaaaaahhhhh.

The drive to Jaipur is long. We call at the monkey temple.  The walk up from the car park is daunting, pretty unsafe but I manage. The temple is scruffy as but the monkeys are cute and not aggressive. They're are a lot of baby monkeys. They're cute. A random Indian family ask me to take the picture. I don't know why but it's nice to be asked to take someones picture rather than be mithered for yours to be taken.

We arrive at the hotel about 6pm and its still hot so mojito by the pool, kindle and cigarette. Perfect!!! I chill out here for a while before having dinner on the roof. There is entertainment in the form of Indian music and dancers. I say dancers, there were two and they danced alone ie not at the same time. The hotel pretty much closes at 9pm, so I went back to my room. Shahpura House was nice; clean, comfortable etc but I was scared. The room was creepy and there was a constant jingling so I slept with the light on. The jingling turned out to be bells on the bottom of the curtains which were being blown by the air con. Idiot Catherine.It wasn't rats with collars which had bells on at all!!!

Morning arrives and I survived the night. Quick hour by the pool before we head to Elefantastic. Elefantastic is an experience where you spend some time on an Elephant farm owned by Rahul. I went for the overnight option which involved staying at Rahuls family home. I went to the elephant farm and met a girl called Erin. We made food for the elephants, had some lunch, painted the elephants and then went on an elephant ride. Erin left and I stayed and hung around the elephant barn with Rahul and his friend and a girl called Alice from California. About 1am I went to bed ready to be woken up at 5am to go wash the elephants at the farm. How do we get to the farm in the morning?!? By motorbike. This was my first go on a motorbike. I loved it. I now want a motorbike. We go to the farm and then ride the elephants upto the lake where we spend some time washing the elephants. Me and Rahul go back to the house for more sleep. I'm uber tired when Rahuls Mum wakes me at 9am for breakfast. She makes the most amazing chai and i gobble up banana, some biscuit type thing and pints of chai before Rahul arrives. We go upto the fort and I take a few pictures from the outside but don't go in.

I visit the wind palace; a world heritage site to do with astonomers etc. It's quite interesting but you can't climb on the things. I found out the hard way as usual. I then went to City Palace but half of it was shut. To be honest, it could do with a good lick of paint and a tidy up. Would do it wonders!

Following this I head to the Ladli School for Girls. It's a place for rescued street children, a project set up which schools them and also teaches them small practical skills what they could use to trade with later in life. The girls were making jewellery, keyrings, necklaces, anklets etc. I spent about an hour there sitting and chatting with the girls. It took everything I had not to cry. And I ain't a crier. They were so happy, a young girl called Jasmine stuck a little jewel on my head as her and her friends had them. The others sat happily to chat showing me their work books and what they were making, telling me about their favourite subjects and what they liked to play. It was cool and extremely humbling. Once finished the manager of the school took me back to driver Rahul on his bike. Now don't get me wrong, when elephant Rahul took me on his motorbike I liked it; he was young, smelt good and was fit. This man was old and fat. I did not like this. Not one bit.

So the train to Udaipur is at lik 10:30pm. What to do now. Its 2pm. Rahul is getting bored of waiting; he wants to go back to Delhi. He's pissing me off. I make him take me back to Amber Fort so I can actually go into the fort for a wander round. Theres a severe absence in Jaipur of places to just sit and chill ie cafes or parks. I walked upto the fort but its like 40 odd degrees, so I come down and lie in some shade under a tree. A rabid dog decides to take a place under my tree also. I don't like said dog so move to another tree. I am aware of a large family watching me and smiling. I lie down and just close my eyes. I open them 5 minutes later to find them practically surrounding me taking pictures. I am unimpressed. I go find Rahul. 

Rahul suggest we go to the cinema and catch a Bollywood film to waste some time. It was his best suggestion ever. Cinema is like well popular in India. The majority don't drink so going out to the pub etc is out. The cinema is huge, they show one film for about two weeks and its on three times a day. 3pm, 6pm and 9pm. All the films last for exactly 2.5 hours with the same basic story line. The girl fall in loves with guy, guy does something bad, the remainder of the film is the boy trying to win back the girls affection, girl falls back in love and its happy ever after. We watched Rowdy Ramthorne. It was a comedy along the lines of the above. When the main actors come on screen everyone in the cinema cheers and whistles. The film was in hindi but Rahul translated wherever I got confused. It was funny. Shockingly bad, but funny. And Rahul has the loudest laugh EVER. Bless him.

Train time. OMG. I was bricking it to say the least. So I pay 120 rupees to this porter dude to put me on a train. He leaves me with my bag at a bench next to where my carraige will stop and says he'll be back. Yeah right mate. I'm screwed if he doesn't come back because this train system is the most complicated I've ever experienced. Train station stinks. A man shouts at me for smoking. Really??? This place reeks; I'm doing you a favour covering the smell up. Like Christ I'm not not smoking, smoking gives me a purpose in this god forsaken place ie I look busy; tramps will not bother me and random people will not try to engage in conversation. Theres a young girl (by young maybe 18) on the bench behind me. She satnds up and just watches me and keeps smiling. I smile back. This goes on for about an hour. I didn't know what else to do. Anyway, after said hour, strike me down and call me jesus but the porter dude returns and hoists my back and me onto this train. I HAVE A BED. Amazing. Train takes like 7 hours and is overnight. So I climb into my bunk, alls hunky dory until the ticket inspector wakes me at about 1:30am to check my ticket. I thought I was being mugged or something; certainly picked his time to check tickets thats for certain. After that, there was a man snoring on the bed opposite. I swear to god he could of woke the dead with that snoring. I did ponder going and turning him on his side but I figured that is probably socially unacceptable and just tried my best to sleep instead.

I arrive in Udaipur at 6am ish. A man is waiting for me at the train station with a board with my name on. This is promising. Turns out auto-rickshaws have just gone up market these days. Me and my luggage were flung around for about 20mins for the ride to the hotel why 'Bunty' told me all about Udaipur and how Octopussy the James Bond film was made there. Everyone in Udaipur is so proud of this.

The hotel isn't even open when we arrive. Hotel is an overstatement. Its a guest house but it looks over the lake. Udaipur is like Indias Venice in that there are two large lakes with little floating islands on them. Its very beatiful. I consult Lonely Planet and Trip Advisor and head out for a walk and upto the palace. Udaipur is by far my favourite part of my trip to date. The Palace is cool and I get a little boat trip to one of the islands though we can't stay so thats a bit pants. I head back and catch an auto rickshaw to the Whistling Teal. Its a cafe where you can smoke Hookah/Shisha and I have some really yummy food. Some students sit behind me and start discussing politics. They're pissing me off so I left and food a roof top cafe for a beer and more smoke. And then another roof top for more beer.


I arrange a trip to go horseriding the following day and head out to a restaurant over the other side of the lake on a hotel roof top. The restaurant is nice. Like real nice and the mojitos are good. The view is amazing and watching the sun go down on the lake is something special. I head back across and go to a new roof top restaurant where I make some new friends. However guest house curfew is 11pm. If your not back you ain't getting in. So it was just a friendly few beers rather than a wild one. I was back and 10:59. Guess whos locked out. Yep. That would be me. Fuck. I batter down the door. Somebody wakes up and lets me in. Phew.

Up at 7am for horseriding. This was fun. Its was a two hour walk/trot when I kicked the horse too hard which happened a few times through some of the villages. All the children were waving and we went to the lotus flower pond. A pond covered in lotus flowers. Clues in the name. Got back and man did my arse and legs hurt. I went for some breakfast and then to lastnights roof top cafe for a lemonade and a read of the old kindle until taxi time. I like Udaipur.

Last leg. Udaipur to Mumbai for one night until home time. Mumbai hotel - nicht gut. I imagine people get killed in this place. Foreigners like moi to be precise. The room was ok. But it just gave me the heebie jeebies. To call the lift, bang on the metal grate and the man who lives in the lift will be there asap. Oh yeah sure, thats not dodgy one bit is it. I'm going to Leopolds for tea. Not a chance I want room service. Oh and I love Leopolds.

So I eat dinner, have a beer, read a bit. Pay the bill. The waiter brings me over a napkin with a note written on it asking me to join the two guys across the room but I was leaving. They collar me on the way out and ask me to stay for just one beer. They reckon they're Turkish but one is very white and looks far to Russian to be Turkish but who am I to say he isn't??? He hardly speaks any english but manages to tell me I'm beautiful especially when I smile. Such a charmer!!! I let them buy me another beer. Then I leave. Bed time for Chadders. No I don't want to come to a club, no I'm not staying for just one more, no there is no place near the hotel for another drink. Honestly.

SO. 3 weeks and 6 days have passed. And its hometime. BA time. Business class time. Grey Goose time. 3 ilms time. And I'm home.

India it's been a pleasure. You truly were charming, delightful and awful all at the same time.
Lessons learnt:
Don't put off to tomorrow what you can do today
Just one picture is never just one picture
India head wobble actually means I don't have a fucking clue.
Give more money to comic relief
Don't climb on World Heritage Sites


Song of the trip: Tacabro - Tacata

Sunday, 13 May 2012

Italia - Rome vs Napoli Round 2. Ding Ding.

Italy Retesting. Biggest Disaster of a trip EVER. Trip is arranged to be a smash and grab one week. We should be so lucky.

As the trip was one week and we weren't getting the weekend and as last time we didn't get to see Rome, Rob took pity on me and we decided to go a day early and pay for a day/night out of our own pockets.

After the most detailed Itinerary you can ever imagine; it started to go wrong the minute we got on the plane...

Flight delayed by an hour. Not really an issue, except Jet2 have one CD with 6 songs on a loop. Pixie Lot, Ed Sheeran, Abba, Adele, Bruno Mars and my; the 6th one has escaped me; might have been Jessie J.

Land in Rome; leg it through security to get our bags; our pre booked bus is at half 1; its 12:45, our prepaid Vatican tickets are for 3pm entry. The bags take over an hour to appear. People cheered when the bags eventually made it onto the carousel. It's 1:30. Fuck it. If we get a taxi we'll still make the Vatican. So off we go to find a taxi when Mario & Luigi (Not factually correct) approach us and we get into their 'official' (or so they keep telling us) taxi. Wheres the meter?? It's €2-3 euros per kilometre depending on traffic; so after a little arguing with the man in the passenger seat, we know his new fixed price of €70 and tell him this is too much; he takes us back to the airport.

It's now 2pm. Not a chance we're making the Vatican. We go to find the bus which we prepaid for and find an ok queue. It's freezing btw, there is snow on the ground. An hour and a half later a bus arrives, which proceeds to get stormed by the massive queue. (The buses are supposed to be every half hour). I get into an argument with a lady in the queue whom backs down pretty sharpish. That'll teach her to try and push in front of me. NOT COOL LADY.

At approximately 4:30 we arrive at Station Termini where we then proceed to get the underground to the hotel, near station Barberini. From landing in Rome at approximately 12:30 it has taken us 4 hours to get from the airport to the city centre. 4 hours. Vatican missed. Oh well. Hotels nice, Robs room is better. The hotel is near the Spanish Steps so we head there for a little stroll and to see the Trevi Fountain. Spanish steps were frozen over and consequently a death trap. Trevi Fountain however was cool.

Saturday Night. Pizza for tea why not. It was ok; nothing special. No Pizza Express thats for sure. Not to waste the meticulously planned itinerary, we decide to hunt out some of the bars included on said itinerary. One way out, i slipped on some ice. I random man went to catch me and slipped to resulting in me in a heap on the floor, him clinging onto a nearby pillar for dear life and Rob pissing himself laughing.

Not gonna lie; the bars were nice, but they were expensive. We got free crisps and nuts but personally i'd do without the crisps and nuts for a few euros of the drinks price. Bored of being ripped of, we found a cheaper place. And Oh my god the wine was cheap wine as i proceeded to find out. After several glasses, and on discovering Rob is not my boyfriend, the bar owner bought us a round of dinks and let us play Dj. I vaguely remember this bit. The walk home consisted of Rob propping me up and wandering until a couple in a car offered to take us back to the hotel for €20. At this point I had my head over a bin, when Rob said don't worry she's not been sick yet... Bluergh. I vommed. Yet they still took us home. There was more sickness which followed, but hey ho I was home...

Hangover from hell. The last thing I wanted to do was sight see, but, that fucking itinerary took me half a day to create; Sundays schedule was being stuck too. First up! Collosseum.

On the way to the Collosseum I was sick (again), in the middle of the street. It would be fair to say this was a low point of my life. Better out than in anyway. Onwards and upwards, just after Rob has answered this call from the plant. There is soo much snow in the middle of Italy that the highway is shut and the car cannot come get us. Brilliant. We now have to arrange the flight home, lets go to the Collosseum and we'll book the flights when we get back. Collosseum was shut. Apparently, -7 temperatures and an inch of snow means Rome has shut down completely.

Back at the hotel changing the flights, when Chadders remembers Roma are playing today, lets go the game, this could actually save the day. No tickets but apparently you can buy them from the box office. The guy on reception says we can get the train, then either the tram or walk. Given our recent experiences with public transport we nominate to walk. 1.5 hours later, we are still walking!!!!!

WE can see the stadium; not far now. Oh yes you are. Good luck finding the ticket office kids! Because it's miles away from the stadium in a little hut. Anyway, quit the whining, we've found it, its 2-30, we're in the queue and we'll make the second half so at least thats something. I go get myself a diet coke, life is good. I'm in the queue, I have a diet coke and the weekend is saved thanks to Cath. Sod it, I'll go get another drink. Fanta. Get back to the queue/Rob and wowza, 215 calories in that little can. Well as I tell Rob the queue has moved on and I'm quoting the calorie content of fanta to a random (rather fit) Italian guy. Its all very funny as the guy speaks English but just ends in me looking like a tit yet again. So I have now finished speaking to random men about the calorie content of fanta and we are in the door purchasing tickets OH YYYYYYYEEEEEEEEAAAHHHHHHH. Do you have your ID?? OHHHHHHHHHHHHHH NO. I didn't. Rob did. No tickets allowed. WHAT? No tickets. I begged, I pleaded. No ticket without ID. I reached a new low. It took all I had not to cry. Could anything more go wrong??

On the walk back to the tram station (we'd learnt a lesson here) we conceeded to visit the only open attraction on a Sunday. St Peters. Trams here, get on the tram. Robs having a hissy fit because he hasn't got a ticket. Get on the fucking tram Rob. I am seriously not in the mood for this and if a ticket inspector comes I challenge him to fine me because I am ready for action. Anyway, after his persistent moaning we get off the tram at the next stop so Rob can buy said ticket. These rule abiders really get on my wick. He loses a glove. Karma.

Arrival at St Peters. And on the walk we pass a cute little cafe. Suppose, just suppose St Peters is shut, can we go there for a coffee?? Yes Catherine. Oh guess what, St Peters was shut. The only 'open on a Sunday' attraction was shut. I'm going for that coffee.

What would you like, hot chocolate and chocolate cake for moi, coffee and apple pie for Rob. The hot chocolate was amazing, like liquified chocolate, really thick and creamy. It should be for €8. Yes, €8 and €9 for the cake. Same for the coffee and apple pie. They saw us coming, no menu with prices before we ordered, man that waitress was clever.

So, shit day and we're best part of €20 down each for a flipping cuppa and a cake. Theres only one way to fix the way I feel right now. A nap.

After the nap, we conclude pizza and the jazz bar nearby. Not a fan of jazz but we're not venturing into town after lastnights mishaps. Prosecco €18. Yes. Lets have a bottle of that. Why not. Everything has been shit. Lets have another bottle. This continues until we're actually onto a fifth. Christ.

Needless to say, I was sick. AGAIN. Yet another hangover and a flight home. Grrrrrrreat. Good night though. Fun fun fun. We got the bar to play Courteeners and there were free snacks a plenty.

Conclusion: Me and Rob went to Rome to get drunk. This could have been done at home.

Lessons learnt:
1. Never try and get a taxi from Rome Airport
2. If it's snowing in Rome; don't go
3. Never expect good service/anything to be on time
3. When you have the option of tram or walk pick tram.
4. Don't announce outloud the calorie content of fanta
5. Always carry ID
6. Dont get off trams to buy tickets
7. Always view the prices before ordering food
8. When the waitress says, 'One more bottle?!' Say no...

Song of the audit: DMX vs The XX -  Gon' Give it to ya.

Saturday, 12 May 2012

Polska 2 - Dream Audit

February 2012.
Early flight to Krakow avec Mr Metcalf. Following the long drive to Sandomierz it was too late to go out on site thus we went straight to the hotel and out for a run. Fuck me sideways it was cold. Such a sunny day yet flipping freezing. That run nearly finished me off!!

Tuesday and Wednesday out on site doing the old work. Nothing eventful ecept the bit where I got caught dancing to David Guettas Titanium by the Polish FC. Pow Pow Pow; finger pointing and all. Unlucky...

Wednesday evening; following our successful completion of work, we had a few drinks. I couldn't face the honey codka, the mere smell of it made me want to be sick following the previous visit to Sandomierz.

Thursday morning; up and out for a run before breakfast and the drive to Krakow. On arrival in Krakow, we had the team meeting and Robs 14, yes 14 slides of record retention. KILL ME NOW. God that was dull.

Now, playtime. Had a walk upto the castle and had a beer overlooking the Square and Basilik. Krakow has an amazing Square. And we heard the trumpeter from the Basilik. This is famous but I'm not entirely sure why. Then found this uber cool Mexican which did good mojitos <3

Per Wikipedia 'On every hour, a trumpet signal—called the Hejnał mariacki—is played from the top of the taller of St. Mary's two towers. The plaintive tune breaks off in mid-stream, to commemorate the famous 13th century trumpeter, who was shot in the throat while sounding the alarm before the Mongol attack on the city. '

Following some research on http://www.cracow-life.com/ we went to the The Shisha bar. Best Shisha bar i have ever visited by far. Turkish rugs and cushions everywhere, cavern underground type place AND it served alcohol!!

After this, we moved onto a random bar down a corridor, up some stairs which was full of locals, Really cool place with art etc etc etc. Met some guys who work fro Capgemini who eokained it was International womens day and that was why everyone had flowers. Our new Polish friends subsequently bought me some flowers; I was made up!!!













Following on, we moved to my old favourite/previous haunt Bar Baroque...



Bar Baroque was as good as ever; the only downside being a stuck up DJ who only played Euro dance type music. So home time, or was it?!?

Well, in attempt to go home, we got collared into a night club by a promoter, well at least this is what we believe is to have happened. Neither of us can remember going in or leaving. What we do remember is being in there and me dancing on a bar. ON A BAR. You're 25 Catherine. Too old for such antics. I wasn't alone on said bar, there were other girls on there too. Unfortunately Rob informed me the following day that although yes indeed there were other girls on the bar, they worked there and that was their job....

Hangover from hell and a Ryanair flight to deal with. Bloody brilliant. All in all, good week, work done and dusted and a wicked night out. Met the locals, drank the vodka and had fun!!! Boom.


Lessons Learnt:
1. International Womens Day is celebrated way more abroad; I want flowers every year
2. Don't sing/dance in audit rooms
3. You are too old for dancing on bars

Song of the trip: David Guetta - Titanium

Wednesday, 18 April 2012

Germany

Not much to say on this one. Short audit, work packed in tight. Good tapas place. The End.

Thursday, 12 April 2012

Italia - Napoli vs Rome. Round 1. Ding Ding.

December 2011. Audit in Italy. My first as lead. Nerves.com.

So Monday morning we arrive in Rome; shitty Ryanair and 15kg luggage allowance. Robs only brought three t-shirts for the whole trip. All of which apparently look pretty similar. Next up, 3 hour drive across Italy to San Salvo. I'm totes over the sleeping in front of colleagues now and I'm pretty much out of it once we get on the motorway. The moments I was awake I witnessed some pretty hairy moments involving Italian driving thus decided it was best to sleep anyway.

Arrival at the plant, opening meeting smashed. Its 5-30 so we head to the hotel to check in. ooh, picked up the pool car. Beemer. Result. Hotel is nice. The Gabri Park. This is where we first encounter Carla. The receptionist. Very very very helpful (We later decided that Carla was my stalker). Decide to have dinner in the hotel; its been a long day.

The weather is unusually hot for December, round about 20 everyday. On the Tuesday evening we go into the town of Vasto for dinner with some other Pilkington employees. The pizza place was the best pizza ever!! Thin, crispy, amazing. Vasto is a cute little Italian town. So quaint. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vasto

Thursday is bank holiday. Work from the hotel day and Vasto for lunch. We ate lunch at a beachside restaurant, had the creamiest gelato and went for a little walk on the beach; possibly my best work day EVER. Did I mention, Robs only got three tshirts??
Risotto de la mer. Delicious.

View of Vasto from the end of the pier.

Gelato. Like cold nutella and bueno. Mmmmmmm.
So it's the weekend. And where did we decide to go. Naples aka Napoli. In a word: dump. I drew the short straw and it was my turn to drive. We discovered that the car radio skipped a lot, so armed with Robs netbook and some classic dance music, we drove across Italy. Possibly one of the worst drives of my life. Getting to Naples was relatively easy. However, once there we took a wrong turn, ending up in a rough part of town with hooded youths on mopeds and street corners. A green light resulted in us practically stationary in the middle of a junction screaming. Arrival at the hotel and we were shaking. We concluded that we would eat in the hotel that night.  By the way, Robs only brought three tshirts.

My room had a view of Mount Vesuvius. Really really cool. Tea in the hotel restaurant - Good. What wasn't good was that the waitress failed to understand I only wanted a glass of red wine not a bottle to myself. I ended up with a bottle. We then went to the hotel bar for cocktails. They were disgusting and we were serenaded by an old man on a piano "Alll by myself...." Hilarious and depressing. So early night ready for Saturday. I can't find the big light switch so have to sleep with the light on. Not cool.

Peering into the crater of the Volcano








Saturday morning arrives and we are out the door by 9-30 walking to the station to get the train to Pompeii. Turns out we have a half hour wait until the next train. This allows our platform to fill up with Napoli football fans. The train comes, they storm on. They ain't getting a seat before me so i storm on too. Rob is shocked. That train is cancelled so we all pile back onto the platform ready for the next one. On arrival the same rush ensues. I wasn't as quick this time and we had to stand. The Napoli fans proceeded to make a smoke a spliff on the train. Anyway, we arrive at Pompeii relatively unscathed to a tourist box selling tickets for the minibus up the volcano. The minibus was overcrowded with 2 children shoved in to sit on adults knees. I swear they were at least 9. I've never felt as sick as I felt on that minibus winding up the side of the mountain. We make the climb from the car park to the top. It's cloudy. We can't see bloody anything!!! But still we did it!!!
So next up are the ruins of Pompeii. Interesting but it was pretty samey after a while. The baths and the amphitheatres were interesting and it was educational I guess.
So then we hopscotched it to Herculaneum in the hope of seeing the people, unfortunately we didn't make it in time and Herculaneum wasn't allowing anyone else in. So we went for a beer. Our observations of the cars that passed noted that the cars in Napoli are more likely to be damaged than not. Our plan for the night was to head to the Marina, find a restaurant and maybe a bar or two.



Sunday morning. Casual
We got a taxi from the hotel. It had two metres running, one showing €12 and one about €40. He charged us €20. Go figure, and if you work it out let me know. So had the pizza, found a bar. Had several mojitos with which they then plied us with tapas snacks. The mojitos were good so we stayed in the said bar till home time around 2ish when we then flagged a taxi. The taxi driver was mental. At one point he had both arms out wide shouting 'NAPOLI!! NAPOLI!!!'. We made it home. Just. No flies on me this time though, I took the card out of the slot so the big light went off. Boom.


Sunday morning is a casual walk across town to the museum. The museum doesn't have a cafe so we pop across the road where we meet Mario. Mario tells me I'm beautiful and gives us free chocolate filled pastries. On leave said establishment, Mario kisses me on either cheek, and nods to Rob as if to say 'I'd give her one...' Rob just nodded back so not to upset him/cause an explaining scenario. It was in all honesty hilarious. Museum was half empty except for the secret room. That was full to the brim of old age porn. And there was this really really cool room. Other than that though we're struggling as most stuff was out on loan.

Next up; lets wander around town and try and find this market with the woolen nativity characters as promised by the staff in San Salvo. We walked and walked and walked. We found nothing except for littered streets and graffitti'd buildings. Quite sad really but apparently the mafia control rubbish collections: http://www.terradaily.com/reports/Mafia_at_centre_of_Naples_rubbish_mess_999.html

Struggling for stuff to do in Naples we decide to go for some lunch at the train station and drive back to San Salvo. Over lunch it is discussed whether or not me and Rob can become Facebook friends, It transpires that he has already facebook stalked me, again, highly amusing. The drive back is fun and involves me rapping to Tinie Tempahs Frisky and shouting at Rob when I hadn't finished; then Rob rapping to Dr Dre, then me whailing through Coldplays paradise. That yielded the following response from Rob, and I quote "Statistically, you should manage to hit at least one note, yet you manage not to...". I think I have a beautiful sining voice, apparently not.

Dinner is in Vasto where there is a small mini festival with hot doughnuts in stick shapes. We got some, they were yummy. By Tuesday, just two of us, we're struggling for conversation and we have a rule that you have to bring some new topics of conversation with you for tea. Rob decided to tell me that he used to be a trainspotter. Wrong thing to do Rob. I swear, piss my self laughing is an understatement. This subject is a source of entertainment to this day. He knows EVERYTHING there is to know about trains. Also, he used to work at Toys R Us and wore a Barbie t-shirt once. I was bored too. I think it was this particular night that I told Rob I had a coffee machine in my room. He nearly crashed the car. I didn't; I just knew this would annoy him.

So, Thursday, audit is over, Closing Meeting done, Rome it is ready for Friday morning flight. Rob still has just three t shirts. I fucking know.

The Beautiful Pantheon
Arrival in Rome. Bad traffic, still, we manage to get there for 7pm ish. Shuttle bus into the centre fof Rome leaves at 7:30. Quickest change ever. Sit waiting for 10 minutes as typically the bus driver is late. 

Bus driver drops us off and understandably, we're a little disorientated, however, after about 15 minutes of walking we stumble upon the Pantheon. Coolest building ever. Fact. I want to have pizza and drink Prosecco here. In the restaurants overlooking the Pantheon. But no no, 3 tshirt Rob as he's now known, wants to find the 'big ass square' so we keep walking. Can't find it, oh look, we're back at the Pantheon. It must be the other way, ok. I'd like to add at this point I'm pretty hungry and getting impatient. So off we go; 'Are you sure its not that way Rob; its pretty lit up down there?..' Nope, definitely not. OH LOOK. WE'RE BACK AT THE FUCKING PANTHEON. Maybe we will try that other way; the way I said Rob? Yes. Yes indeed the way I said. We got to the 'big ass square'; it had been overtaken by some 'cheap ass' Christmas market and looked rubbish, so we went back to the Pantheon and had Pizza and Prosecco sat outside overlooking the beautiful Pantheon. Now, anybody else might take this opportunity to point out to Rob; that a) this is what I wanted to do to start b) I was right about the direction of the bloody square, and as much as I would like to say I didn't and that I sat quietly satisfied with myself (he has only got three tshirts remember that; don't want to upset him more), I didn't. I took great pleasure in reminding him of point a and b. Anyway; that Prosecco tasted good and it was time for the whistle stop running tour of Rome.



First stop - The Collosseum. Has this beat my love for the Pantheon?? Possibly. Looks amazing lit up especially with all the Christmas lights too. This was the official 'Team Italy' photo. So then, we headed back to the 'big ass square' for a beer. An expensive beer at that, but it was gooood.                 
From here we headed to St Peters. Unfortunately we couldn't get close as it was all fenced off, we thought about breaking through the fence but Rob wouldn't allow it due to the police car parked up just inside. That was unfortunate admitedly. 

Then it was home time. Bed. Early flight home. I concluded on this one that I had a brilliant time. Work got done, Robs hilarious and soooo easy to wind up. Overall: great trip :-)

Lessons learnt:
1. Rob only had three tshirts with him
2. Italian driving leaves a lot to be desired
3. Bank holidays abroad are wicked
4. Pizza and Gelato in Vasto is the best I've ever tasted
5. Prosecco and pizza by the Pantheon tastes better when you've walked past said restaurant three times
6. Rob loves trains
7. Napoli's a shithole
8. I <3 Rome
9. Taking the card out the slot makes the light go off (Remember this one - could come in handy!!)
10. Rob gets scared if the petrol gage falls below half way. Loser.

Tune of the trip: Avicii Levels

Thursday, 5 April 2012

S is for Sweden, C is for Copenhagen..

A is for awesome trip. I could go on to spell Scandanavia but considering the week before I didn't know Sweden and Denmark were even in Scandanavia and that Scandanavia wasn't a country I won't bother.

November 2011. Early-ish Sunday morning flight to Copenhagen, started by Starbucks in Manchester airport; skinny latte with sugar free hazlenut extra hot pllllease.

Stumbling block one: the train from Copenhagen to Halmstad. Just because a seat is empty doesn't mean its not booked. There is no way of telling it's booked, you just sit in it and hope that somebody doesn't come to tell you you have to move as in fact they have booked that seat. They could learn a lot from the Virgin Pendolino system: Reserved/Vacant. Just put a note on it or something. The second thing about this train: Keep your eyes open on the train and pay attention as everyone will ask about the bloody bridge; when replying what bridge you on about people think your mental. That bridge is massive. It goes across the sea and connects two countries, yet I managed to miss it (3 times I might add before seeing it on the fourth go!!). They're pretty proud of that bridge....

So Halmstad is pretty. It's cool. Nice eating and drinking establishments; typically scandinavian. it's near Christmas, all the lights are up but no trashy different coloured lights. Everyone has a white star in the window of their homes and white lights only. Very elegant and cool.

Ooh, we get a pool car in Halmstad. Each team member has a turn at driving. Funny points to note: Susan broke the handle of the seat, then couldn't park it, then stalled and started in gear. Rob nearly had a coronary whilst Paul was driving, I won best driver award.

The weekend - trip to Copenhagen. Arrived pretty late after another debacle with the trains, so it's hard rock cafe for food and Christmas Tuborg drinks. Saturday morning, a walk into town; it's freezing. A canal boat trip to see the Mermaid; not sure what the fuss is about there! Oh and then a climb up the tallest tower EVER. Well in Copenhagen. However, I forgot I am petrified of heights. I spent the majority of the climb clinging to the side of the tower whilst everyone laughed. Every step was a battle of wills as to whom in the oncoming direction was gonna leave the rail as I clinged to it. Not a chance I was letting go. PETRIFIED.

Onto the Tuborg factory. As an Everton supporter I resent handing over cash to the Carlsberg establishment, however the promise of warmth and two beers and not separating from the team has me sold.

This picture is the team minus Susan with the 'famous' Carlsberg Elephant. I've never seen them before but apparently they're famous.

Following this we met back up with Susan at magical Tivoli. AMAZING is the only way to describe this place. http://www.tivoli.dk/composite-3351.htm

The website really doesn't do it justice, but google image it. It had a mini Taj Mahal, a mini Kremlin, real reindeers, a Father Christmas ( I was convinced he was the real deal!). Everything had lights on; we drank Glug to our hearts content and felt like we had been transported to a cross between Never Never Land, Lapland and the Coca Cola Christmas advert. I think at one point I thought I was Tinkerbell.

The next highlight had to be watching Rob and Susan sh*t themselves on a death defying ride involving rotating planes on mechanical arms swing round and great heights. Had to be there to witness the pure horror on Robs face!

Onwards and upwards to the Absolute Vodka Ice Bar. Whats cooler than being cool? ICE COLD! And f*ck me sideways was it cold. Drinks were good though.

Next up night out - YIIIIIIEEESSSSS!!!!

Meatpacking district; cool. Free cocktails as it was it's birthday or something. We learnt the Danes are very friendly towards English and got talking to a few who lived in Sweden and offered us places to stay if we should ever want to visit them?! Then onto another bar - this one not a cocktail bar - see picture. Thankfully I noticed that before I order my mojito. After a mammoth trek we found a bar recommended but it turned out it was Rn'b; not one for throwing out our best shapes to so headed back into town to Rose McGees for some serious cheese, Q dancing on stages, pulling each other across the dance floor with imaginary ropes, the whole lot. We are too cool. I know.

McDonalds. Bed. However, hotel is in the red light district, count the 'ladies of the night' game. No fewer than 16. Very wrapped up ladies though, they are familiar to the temperatures around these parts!!

Sunday; Palace. Long story short, I got bored, I got shouted at by the lady - I was just looking in the drawer of the box incase they had missed something, free labour - whats the problem?? The jewels were cool but if I can't try them on then whats the point. Mahoosive storm, nightmare on the train (again) but back in Halmstad.

So audit, done. Thursday night, drinks. What a night: karaoke- none of us sang thank goodness, but a lady said I had a good voice and I should get up as I know the words; it ain't hard love, it's karaoke, the words are on the screen!! The same lady burnt her hair on the candle whilst telling me this. I think she may have been a tad tipsy. Not to be deterred by the shutting of the pub, we headed to the local bowling alley. Not cool? Oh how wrong. It's a nightclub with a bowling alley inside it. Awesome. Dancing whilst going to throw the bowling ball, this was fun. As the only three on the dancefloor, we had rule of the Dj. Turns out they like Swedish House Mafia in Sweden too. This is good news.

Friday: Hometime. Train back to Copenhagen. Rob got uber stressed over the SAS checking in system to the point he had a tantrum. This boiled down to the fact he couldn't use the luggage tag, idiot. After his little outburst, the remainder of the journey was ok.

Good trip all round.

Lessons learnt:
1. Pay attention on train journeys to significant monuments such as bridges
2. Remember you are scared of heights prior to agreeing to climb tall buildings
3. You are not Tinkerbell
4. Don't touch things in museums, they don't like it
5. Rob can't use sticky labels

Trip Theme Tune: Rihanna & Calvin Harris - We Found Love

Poland - Home of Bison Grass Vodka!

October 2011. First trip away with the new job. Early start for a Sunday. I don't remember the last time I saw 5-30 on a Sunday morning. Meet Paul and Vicky in Starbucks Liverpool airport. Slightly nervous. Easyjet flight - great, no assigned seat; newbie gets the middle. So tired, cannot go to sleep on the flight; not because I'm not tired, because socially, sat between two people whom are chatting this is unacceptable.  Note to self: Easyjet bacon butties are crap. And burn your hands. Don't get one again ever.

3 hour drive from Krakow to Sandomierz. Poland looks exactly like I imagined; poor. Its full of grave yards, churches and is very agricultural. Not much to note. I fell asleep. Sandomierz is tiny, yet manages to cram in half a dozen churches, and you never see anybody around. First week flew by, nothing much to note except for the food was awful. Egg or pickle with everything. Krakow for the weekend!!


So we arrived in Krakow on the Friday and after a pretty poor attempt, ended up in an Irish pub. Not before going into a quite local bar where we got stared at a lot and had the strangest picture on the wall. Quite an early night but the drive was tiring.


Saturday morning started off with breakfast in the hotel. Hotel Unicus - smart! Restaurant was is the basement which was like a cavern; lots of exposed brickwork, this please Paul. We went for a wonder around Krakow, down to the Palace and onto the Jewish quarter. It was pretty, but the whole city was covered in about an hour so we headed for a coffee and then to a few shops. Krakow has a cool square, one of the best I've seen with St Marys Basilik in the corner. Went for lunch to a Mexican, it had lampshades made of desperado bottles and the waiter and a toy gun but the food was crap.

Bored and pretty cold we headed to a bar for our first drink. The vodka is so cheap it would be rude not to. Poland still has smoking rooms so that's a little odd and it's hard to imagine smoking in bars at home now.

The evening we went to Bar Barok to sample the cocktails, thought the light pink one tasted as I imagine sweaty feet would. Minging!! This was Bar Barok; it had a nightclub downstairs where we partied the night away to old school dance and met a guy called Conrad. He dressed and danced like Carlton ofफ Fresh Prince but was white. Bad combination.


Not so fresh from Saturday night came Sunday morning. An excursion to Auschwitz. Obviously not enjoyable, but learnt an awful lot and it was difficult to truly imagine the horrors that took place. Definitely worth visiting and glad that I went. The pictures are the Auschwitz gate and the tower famous from Schindler's List.


One hot chocolate and kfc later, we were back on the monumental drive back to Sandomierz and the joys of the Basztowy hotel. The second week dragged; the joys of Sandomierz had been seen or had they??

The Wednesday was the last full day of audit, Thursday for the closing meeting so the FC had arranged for us and the finance team to go for a meal at the nice hotel. During the meal it was demanded that we tried the local vodka the polish way. This means neck a 50ml shot straight.

Now I like vodka, in fact I really like vodka. I don't like 50ml shots straight. I definitely don't like 3 or 4 shots of the stuff in the space of an hour. And neither did other members of the team. The vodka resulted in 2 out of 3 of us being sick and possibly one of the worst hangovers I have ever had.

SO...the original plan of Krakow night out Thursday before flying home. We were all far too hungover. So after an amazing Italian (his name was Antonio haha), we went for dessert and hot chocolate under blankets at a cafe on the square.

All was good with the world again, I had got through audit/trip 1 relatively unscathed and lived to tell the tale.

Lessons learnt:
1. Polish people know how to drink vodka, the English don't.
2. When a Polish person says one more drink, say no.
3. Don't buy Easyjet food.
4. Don't plan on doing much in Poland other than drinking.

Song of the trip: Haddaway - What is Love.