Escaping Queenstown and heading up to the West coast for the scenic Transalpine train was a complete bloody logistical nightmare. Whilst this country is all scenic spectre (which makes it so special), easy accessibility sans car is not their forte!

Managed to negotiate a juggle of trips with west coast stops along the way, over the course of two and a bit days, to reach Greymouth and the train terminal by Friday.

Part 1 was a small group tour to Franz Joseph. A 12 hour on the road epic that would’ve done Jack Kerouac proud. Itinerary was jam-packed – a wild and winding journey up the west coast taking in sights such as Wanaka, the Tolkien esque Haast pass (wizard you shall not etc…) Fantail falls, Ship Creek, Bruce Bay, and Lake Mattheson before culminating in Franz Joseph, and if we were very lucky and the clouds cleared…maybe a Fox glacier finale. Tbc….

‘Small group tour’ a fair reflection, since it turned out to be just 2 of us! Marina from the central region of France and Colin, our hugely dull but nice enough, tour guide.

Everything underwhelmed Colin. Proof that perhaps a life of driving past these natural wonders on a daily basis eventually becomes the norm, but alas, a bit of spark might’ve been nice to keep the tour alive. God bless Marina – she was a joy and digging deep in her aquired english arsenal to ask interesting questions and accompany the drive with the oohs and ahhhs the journey deserved. He, however, was very much a Colin by name and nature (Colin Goodwin and maybe the Caterpillar, being the only two exceptions I’ve ever met to challenge the dry and boring Colin rule) soz to other Colins out there, please disprove my stats, but we are we we are right now.

First stop was much recommended Wanaka for a potter in the shops and cafes and, of course, a pilgrimage to the famous Wanaka tree. Colin told us an interesting tale (I know!) that popularity mounted after a photo was included on a Chinese tourism website proclaiming the places in the world people must visit – wanaka bizarrely in at number one. In dutiful fashion, thousands of Chinese tourists apparently flock to see the tree every year, and today was no exception. We had arrived at stupid o’clock, so beat the crowds and were treated to a crunchy carpeted avenue of autumn leaves leading to the spot.

Really is a sight to behold, sat languishing out on the lake… lonely but lofty. Such a treat to be here in the autumn, my favourite of all the seasons (white woman’s instagram etc) but asides from Japan and maybe the Californian and Canadian coast I’m yet to see somewhere who can do autumnal-awesome quite the same.

Highlights of the long drive included an array of waterfall pit stops, gaining in grandeur – Fantail falls, Thunder creek and culminating in the aptly named and natured Roaring Bill falls. Traversed the tidal path to get there, trundling across the rock and rubble like something from prehistoric times. You can’t capture the sheer size and scale of the basin without seeing with your own eyes, but it was massive. And thanks to shoulder season, empty, so just the two of us rattling around (Colin waited in the car…obvs!)

Not so highlights included approximately 850 dead possums on the road. Talk about a million ways to die in the west!!! Roadkill is _everywhere_ which considering how many people actually live here, I reckon most must have a possum to person kill rate to rival John Wick.

We swung into the aply named Hunter’s Lodge in Haas for our lunch stop, and both went for their famous venison burger. Deer farms are a big deal on this coast, and the decor a not so subtle suggestion that they do it well. Also, accompanied by possibly the best chips i think I’ve ever had…and unfortunately, more of Colin’s chat! (those chips though…..)

Notable stops post lunch included Ship Creek, for a tropical rainforest hike and the hunt for blue mushrooms! A bizarre New Zealand native flourescent fungus that crop up unexpectedly throughout the undergrowth. The landscape has changed almost constantly despite being on the same coast the whole way, so a real insight into the diverse types of terrain Nz has to offer.

Here is also where I provided a tasty treat for sand flies who chomped my cankles a charm, despite the “homemade insect repellent” a naturalist friend of Colin’s had made and he encouraged we douse ourselves with before leaving the van. Wandered the walkways and wondered what on earth we’d smothered on our extremities and tried to ignore it until sanitiser was in sight back at the carpark!!

This stop was also where we were lucky enough to spot Hector dolphins in the wild. Famed as a rare find, to see almost 15 in a proud pod, popping above and below the surface of the shore was pretty magical and even think I saw Colin crack a smirk (though post lunch, could’ve been indigestion…)

The final stretch was onward and upwards to Franz Joseph and a final stop at Lake Mattheson for a walk to the mirror lake lookout. Around a 30-minute atmospheric amble through thick rainforest cover, the rain trickling through the treetops, made for a lovely little yomp and the majestic lake at the end made it worthwhile and then some.

Albeit long and accompanied by Colin, Marina and I had an incredible day’s drive stuffed full of wild west coast best bits ‘ snow capped mountains, rainforests, waterfalls, lakes and a veritable schmorgesboard of supplementary scenery across the 350km to Franz.

Piece de resistence was a final and very fortunate glimpse at Fox glacier and Mount cook through the clouds. The low hanging fog en route had threatened this option heavily, and to be fair to Colin, he managed our expectations well. So we were both delighted to turn the corner into the lookout spot to see the luminous blue of the ice slick, sliding down the mountain like something out of a James Bond opening scene.

My only plan for my 1 day here in Franz Joseph was a helicopter flight and stop on the glacier. However, due to the howling weather, it was unfortunately cancelled. A real shame, but the luck and luxury was going to catch up with me at some point, so never mind, eh! What made it slightly trickier was that there isn’t a tonne to do in a tiny town, who’s entire tourism offering relies on outdoor activities and nice weather. 

I went in search of alternatives and met a woman in the local information centre who was really helpful. Once I’d regathered my pelvic floor after the suggestion, I should go kayaking (!!! I mean, truly….can you imagine!) I decided on the West Coast Wildlife Centre and a massage!

The wildlife centre dined out largely on its Kiwi sanctury status and was also playing the Millennium album by Backstreet Boys on a continuous loop; so I think we can all agree, a strong start there. Guided tour a bit pointless as mainly focused on Tuatara, a reptile thing a bit like a mini iguana. They neglected to mention in the advertising they haven’t actually had kiwi eggs at their hatchery for 3 seasons….so a bit of a swizz. Katie, who ran the tour, also unhinged reptile obsessive who didn’t want anyone to touch anything (including the chairs we were sitting on?!) so I tried to make minimal sudden movements and not directly question the kiwi thing… but it was basically £35 to look at a bunch of empty cabinets. Couldn’t help but feel you too can create the same day trip by getting a local oddball to show you round an abandoned GCSE science lab…

There was a final walk through with 2 (yep 2….!) Kiwis to see in full darkness, and no photography allowed, so you’ll just have to take my word for it. They are absolutely hilarious birds look like they’re about to topple over the entire time.

They also lay massive eggs- poor loves! Then exhausted, leave the father to do everything after that, which if you’ve just given birth to the equivalent of a 35lb baby….I’d be kicking back too!! 

Went for a massage at the luxury hotel spa (I was not staying at, boo!), and all was well again! I want to feel like I’ve got 10 rounds with Tyson at a massage, so I’ve learnt never to underestimate a tiny masseuse.  Cue Noora who pummelled me to a pulp. Marvellous.

Had dinner at a lovely little historic establishment called Alice May. Our eponymous restauranteur a scorned woman who shot her abusive lover when he jilted her following the still born birth of their baby. The restaurant is run by Alice’s grandaughter and is stuffed full of great propaganda about her case. Sounded like she was mistreated terribly, and Bill West, her partner, was a total prick… Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned and all that.

She shot him in the head point blank and turned gun in herself, but miraculously survived (with a bullet lodged in her brain) and was sentenced (by a jury of 12 men and no women) to life imprisonment and hard labour in 1915, despite the violence she suffered.

The injustice of the harsh sentence, not matched my any other man serving for the same crime (shocker!) led to huge campaigns for her release across Nz at the time. In 1921, after 6 years of labour, she was released on strict probation. She happily went on to live a better life, found love with a carpenter 2 years later, and had 6 children – her granddaughter now owns the restaurant and keeps her story alive.

Inspiring stuff…especially if an actual murderer can find a new boyfriend within two years of release, surely there is hope for muggins.

Glad of only 1 night here in Franz Joseph on account of it being utterly mental quite frankly. The whole population of the town is 90! Which is about ⅙ of the people who live on my road! So I think says all we need to know….

Heading for Christchurch tomorrow via the scenic Trans Apline train through the southern alps. Tipped as one of the World’s Greatest Train Journeys, so i’m excited to see what it has in store.

Here’s to a decent night’s sleep and getting the hell outta dodge in the morning! x

Attempted to see Nightlife of Queenstown (there’s a party girl in there somehwhere!) Alas everyone was 22, and I am very much not that…so was mixed reviews, to be honest…

Plumped for Pog Mahones (you can alllllways rely on an Irish bar!) and watched the clientele get slowly more smashed as the night wore on, from my disapproving table in the corner. Listened to some decent live music courtesy of “Dave & Joe” (could use a PR rebrand) and nursed my elderly disposition with rum and ginger ale.

That was until I was saved by a group on a golf tour (always golfers!), who asked to join my table and keep me company. Pat, Gerry, Michael and Paul (disciples, Beatles…?) whatever they were, they were an utter joy….and before you start thinking, things are looking up on the handsome man front, Emma…all very much in their 70s! Michael was 83 and had won their annual tournament. It has been going for 25 years, and they even have their own trophy and green jacket emblazoned with their tour logo awarded to the winner. We talked about Rory finally securing his grand slam, impressed by my extensive acquired knowledge, they encouraged me to take up lessons.

Gerry had cancer, 1 remaining lung, and kept going out for a smoke! Proclaiming “life was for living, Emma” and saying they were proud of me for travelling solo “go on girl” and a lot of high 5s. Covered my bar bill for most of the evening and were truly gems be around. Said they were keeping a look out for eligible bachelors at the bar for me. Pat kept saying, “Trouble is Emma, everyone is rent an arsehole in Queenstown,” and no one was good enough for me. Don’t make gents like they used to, eh!!

They then all jeered at Michael and called him a pussy for going home at midnight (….he’s 83!) and the rest outlasted me! Propping up the bar till closing no doubt…

I headed solo to Ballarat bar which is the best place to end a night in Queenstown apparently…shades of Infernos on a very small scale. Sticky floors, wildly inebriated patrons and perhaps the worst dancing I’ve ever seen. And we all know, i’m no Usher Raymond, so that gives you some clear perspective. Decided to leave when DJ mashed up Sweet Caroline with Swedish House Mafia ….

Strolled back to hotel for decent sleep ahead of Sunday at the Autumn Festival in Arrowtown. 

Arrowtown, incidentally, is adorable. Plastered in picture perfect autumnal vistas, not out of place in a Bob Ross painting.

It’s probably best described as if Wes Anderson built a set for a Western in Nz. Nick, the tour guide, did a free 1hr walking tour of the town as part of festival celebrations. Really interesting and informative. Stumbled upon in 1862, it established itself as a gold rich town and has strong history of mining, a pioneering port of the Nz gold rush.

Fair few dropped off as we went round which I always find so awkward (shit review much!) and culminated in maybe 5 remaining of the original 30 odd. Made my excuses when the tail end of the tour became less about Arrowtown and more about Nick’s decision to move, his unfavourable commentaty about his ex wife and personal offer of additional stop at the pub for a drink after. Good to see that I still have the magnets for ’emotionally unavailable but like to think they’re complex’ men, even in this hemisphere! Eye roll.

Seemingly got the pisshead express back to Queenstown courtesy of coinciding with kicking out time at the Pie, Pints and and Pinot event taking place on the village green. Live music, breweries and a lotta lotta pinot if bus clientele to be believed. Serenaded by terrible performances of Johnny Cash, Frankie Valli and a particularly shocking Ed Sheeran on the 30 mins home.

Swung back through Queenstown and the queue for Fergburger? A miraculous 10 min wait! So, soldiered through my carbohydrate coma (ergh!) and tried a different burger from the menu. I’d been recommended the “Chief Wighum” several times, two giant slabs of pork belly and a hash brown in it. An impossible to eat feat. Delish, but man, I need some vegetables!

Food here is like the UK 30 years ago, all pastry, bread and pie and barely a green in sight. I can only assume people keep so healthy from all the hiking as it’s not to be found in the restaurants and bars here!

Had a lovely facetime with the fam and slept for 10 hours!

Monday was overcast, so a chilly wander soaking up cafe and bar culture. Made the final Ferg finish line with a drink at Mrs Ferg’s. Lovely looking bar, but perhaps the worst cocktail i’ve ever had in my life. Which considering I’ve drunk lumimous blue cocktails mixed in a plastic dustbin at Uni…is quite the accolade!!!  A “jungle funk” to be precise and basically just bitter liquid smoke in an icy glass. Read my kindle and reordered a French Martini…

Sushi for dinner at cute little Sushi Train restaurant. Marvelled at the Skinkansen, bringing my dinner and thought fondly ahead to Tokyo, then dutifully inhaled on account of everything shutting by 8pm rule. Overheard a man in the park today tell his wife, through thick kiwi drawl, it was “a bit too bloody late for lunch darl” it was 1pm….

Spent my final day in Queenstown, visiting the Queenstown Gardens and the rest of the next few hours wondering why I hadn’t made it here earlier…utterly beautiful. Pristine display of autumnal perfection. Wandered the crispy leaves, meandered through the mammoth pines and surveyed the lake from my bench like I was in a Jane Austen novel. Perched for a while to watch the paragliders over the lake, read my latest book and had one of the most scenic pieces of chocolate I might ever have in life.

Doing my upmost to savour the brain pictures here and not get too adjusted to the awe of it all. Really such an utterly beautiful place.

Wandered past one of the many Apiaries in Nz (pretended I knew than Apiary was the name for a bee hive house before now…) read amazing fact that it is estimated one third of all the food we eat relies on bees for pollination. Savoured the info on save the bees which they are really trying to do in abundance here and was glad they were accommodating enough not to sting me.

Praise be I found a real life salad!!!

I got a Ceaser salad takeaway from a restaurant bar and took it to Perky’s, a cute little bring your own food floating bar on a boat on the lake of Wakatipu. Obviously empty at 1.30, as we know, far too late for lunch! And realise very quickly they have to have bring your own food appeal as you also need the sturdiest sea legs around to counteract the rocking. Trying to drink a pint like being on one of the vibrating muscle plates from QVC. Downed it and the salad as quickly as possible, without projectile reappearance of either, and got back to “dry land.” The pirate life most deffo ain’t for me!

Wandered down to Steamer Wharf for a nice glass of Pinot Noir (which they’re famed for here) at Boardwalk bar, savoured the view, read a few more chapters and tried to shake off the swaying.

Caught a pinky purple sunset on the promenade of Public, and tried some local craft beers watching the sun disappear over the Remarkables. #craftbeerwanker

Grabbed a lamb pie from Ferg Bakery for final night dinner and toasted a time when every meal wasn’t covered in pastry.

Early night as the adventure continues with a trip up the west coast to Franz Joseph tomorrow via Wanaka for more sights of the south. x

Flight down to Queenstown from Auckland was so beautiful. Thanks Crouch for the great tip on securing a window seat as the views were amazing on the 2hr flight here.

Lake Wakatipu, which anchors the centre of town, is majestic. It’s so incredibly scenic and beautiful. It doesn’t look like it’s real. The water is so enticingly blue and twinkly in the autumnal April sunshine.

Day 1 arrival was around 6 pm, so once I’d navigated the bus network, Instagram vs. reality strikes with actual eve consisting of room service, washing, and more Khardashians for me!

Day 2 was was the start of exploring a very chilly Queenstown, bought a hat and gloves as first stop, it’s freezing versus the north. Unprepared and optimistic as ever.

Wandered the shops and lanes to get my bearings. Super cute little alpine villagey feel. It’s almost artificial but really lovely town with lovely people. Can see why this place will swarm with skiers when the snow rolls through in a couple months time.

Headed to famed “Ferg Row” in search of lunchtime goods. Fergburger is Queenstown’s most famous institution and has since been joined happily by Ferg Bar, Ferg Baker (…..Ferg candlestick maker?!?!) And Ferg Gelato. I will, of course, try all whilst here but plumped for a lunchtime Pie (for my research) and a Boston Cream doughnut…their best seller. Just a massive doughnut stuffed full of fresh cream. Tasty, but neither blew my mind. Despite the most scenic lunch I’ve had in a long time. Pie Rolla of Auckland still takes the crown, many more pies to discover. I will dutifully accept the artery restricting challenge!

I’ll tackle Ferg Burger later in the week…

My casual day of getting my bearings turned into 16,000 steps and 12 hours of wandering and adventures.

Headed up to the Sky Line cable car for epic views at Bob’s Peak, out over the lake and the Remarkables mountains.

This is also where I took on the Queenstown Luge. Established in 1967, the Luge is sort’ve like Mario Kart live and was ace!! Did my best Bowser, flying round the bends on each of the different tracks and cutting up families with slow kids on the inside. My F1 masterclass has taught me well. Took an array of comedy snaps and got told to slow down by the staff working at the end…..felt like the IT guy in the office. Delighted!

Friday promised another day of sun, so I crossed my fingers and plumped for my Milford Sound trip that day.

600km trip!! That’s over 370 miles. In a day! 13hrs. Absolute beast of a one-day trip. But needs must given that I didn’t fancy the solo drive, and the light aircraft flight there and back was the same as my flight to get here from London!!

Awful Canadian girl with feet on seats made no effort to accommodate me being sat next to her. Driver had to ask her to move, she eye rolled and tutted, and I thought, what a joyous companion for the 13-hour trip!

We were a couple short so I asked if I could move to a window seat over the aisle which the driver obliged…full bus of 60 collecting more people en route so enjoyed the peace and space for now.

Joined at next stop by gorgeous French Marc from Brittany (the handsome Marc’s are always Marc with a C) sucks to be you Canadian dickhead lady. She was joined by loud leaning-over-her-to-look-out-window chinese tourist, with no concept of personal space. Aint karma a bitch eh! Marc however, was painfully charming and good company on the very long drive to Milford sound, happy to do my duty to help practice his english for a few hours. It’s a hard life…..

Watched the weather go from brilliant sunshine to horrendous rain and fog. Brought back harrowing memories of leg break bridge visit, the visibility was that bad. But persevered and waited in the rain for the boat.

The Sounds themselves were beautiful and very scenic and picturesque. Like Jurassic Park set at sea.

Can’t help but feel we really didn’t get lucky with the weather and think they would’ve been all the more beautiful on a clear day. Did mean the bonus was lots of waterfalls which only appear when rainy. So that was a nice addition for sure.

Mildly obsessed by couple who were content creators on boat. Set up a full tripod camera and recording equipment for “candid” intricately posed shots. He had reflective visor sunglasses like he was in a Yeezy ad, and she had inflatable everything. Mesmerising. Made mental note to cling to her in case of capsize.

I did ask him to take my pic, and he didn’t disappoint with framing and somehow making my phone camera do stuff I didn’t know it could do.

Unsure about “glass roof coach” being much of a bonus on the rainy drive down, but when night fell (yes it really was that long a journey!!) we were treated to a bonus evening display of some of the most incredible stars I’ve ever seen!

I’ve only ever seen clearer stellar stuffed skies over the Utah desert on my last big travel trip, so it was so amazing to see the sky sans light pollution. Utterly gorgeous.

I absolutely love the night sky, am always dragging people outside to look up, setting alarms for silly hours in hopes of a glimpse of planets or comets or jumping up after 1hr in bed and getting fully dressed in the middle of the night to drive to a golf club car park (no not like that) to catch a glimpse of when the Northern Lights made it to bloody Bromley!!! Such a treat to be in this hemisphere not under the glare of the luminous lights of London town (and the pollution of the car garage on the street near my place) obscuring all the majesty.

Well-earned rest before another day stuffed full of sun in the south. So did what any sane person decided to do last min…jumped off a cliff.

With apologies to the Thurlow Clan, who I assured would not make rash decisions, but this was spontaneous much like my Skydive in Aus, and I figured life’s short and I’m getting old. Plus, the word on the street is the All Blacks team frequent in pre season, so it was worth a try, eh…

As expected, it was completely and utterly bum squeakingly incredible. Dubbed as the world’s number 1 Canyon Swing, given it was invented right here in Queenstown, it towered at a 109m drop with a heartstopping 60m free fall start.

I was somewhat unsurprised to discover I was the only person on my trip. I ended up with a private tour, which was great fun, but did mean no one else about for moral support (or a test run!!) Did, however, mean no time to think about what I was doing and just jumped!!! Ha

So glad i did it as I was truly treated to incredible views throughout the canyon and some once in a lifetime under the chin Go Pro footage to treasure (check instagram for the proof!)….

Got a Fergburger in celebration. 50-minute wait but a great bloody burger. Went for the Ferg Duluxe classic with cheese, and it was delish. Maybe because of the anticipation and deprivation, but really yum all the same.

Toasted a satisfyingly basic bitch Queenstown day complete – with required adrenelin junkie – junk food, craft beer triumvirate achieved.

Bring on the weekend x

A full on trip so far, so a chill day was essential.

Had a lazy morning before heading into Auckland for an Easter Monday afternoon catching up with Siobhan (the gorgeous childhood pal of everyone’s fav, Katy Rashbrook) who moved over here in 2022 for pastures new.

I have been stealing Katy’s friends since 2007 and am yet to meet one who isn’t a complete and utter hun. Siobhan, of course, no exception! We had such a glorious afternoon of wandering Viaduct Harbour, exploring a new part of town and drinking all the Pinot Gris (not a kiwi abbreviation for Pinot Grigio…who knew!)

The slight fail of the day was that we neglected to remember we are now mid-30s and can not handle the good old days of day-drinking like we could 10 years ago! 3 bottles of wine, several cocktails, no food all day and hours of al fresco sunshine later….and i’m staring into the porcelain bowl of dreams praying for forgiveness!

Sincerest apologies to people who had to watch us drunkenly eat burgers at 10pm when we finally thought food might be a good shout… picture a reenactment of that David Hasslehoff shame video, but worse!

We nevertheless did a great job of putting the world to rights and discussed next stops, life plans, and how incredibly lucky we are to have a truly one of a kind friend like Katy. Thanks for the glorious company pal, look forward to being reunited for Rash’s big day come November.

Rolled in laaaate and stared into the abyss whilst contemplating life choices and survival tactics when I remembered my pre booked Waiheke Island Vineyard tour the next day. Oh my Christ! Alarm in 6 hours for an entire day of wine tasting and the thought of it, truly harrowing!

With no choice but hair of the dog, I made my way to the Waiheke ferry and sailed the 40 mins over the bay. Thankfully for my hungover head, this place is like heaven on earth! Pristine waters, blue skies, sundrenched vineyards at every turn (vom), and the nicest friendliest people around.

Onny was our vineyard tour guide, and much to my bonus delight, the spitting image of Dave Grohl.

He was a dream to show us around the island. He was born on Waiheke (a true Waihetian) and is raising his family here. Why you’d chose to do that literally anywhere else than here if you could, I have no idea. It’s beyond beautiful, and pics don’t do it justice.

We bonded over the 15yrs he spend in Dulwich and Brixton (of course he did!) And chatted about how he was one of the pioneering Kiwis to set up the infamous Volcano Coffee works on Ferndale Road and part of bringing the small-batch roasted coffee revolution to London in the early 2000s. Kind’ve a big deal in the coffee world and living his best life back here post covid.

The group was a lovely crew, two Aussie traveller girls, two 20 somethings from Lapland, and a married retired farming couple from Melbourne. Really enjoying 1 day tours and being able to meet people, share their company for the day but still have time and space to do my own thing assides. Was right to trust my judgement on that.

We visited 4 wineries. The first was Mudbrick Vinryard for amazing views and a breakfast tasting to get us under way (12 o’clock somewhere, eh!). The next stop was the super cute Postage Stamp Vineyard, initially one of the smallest, but after acquiring Obsidian vineyards a couple of years ago, expanded their empire massively.

Then it was onto Wild Vineyards for a 3-glass tasting and a lovely al fresco lunch. Plumped for Lamb (when in Rome…./Waiheke)

We finished the day at Batch for highest views across the island. Super picturesque. Met 2 girls from Romford on their gap year and bonded over jet lag and how gorgeous it is here.

Onny made time for us to stop at the beach. Blissful kms of sun sea sand and seashells for the shelf at home. So pristine and picturesque. Dipped my toes in the ocean as is tradition (and can never resist) – the perfect end to a really dreamy day.

Cheers to you, Onny. I’ll grab a double espresso in your honour next time i’m Brixton bound.

I took the optional chance to wander Waiheke town after and did a solo sunset stroll back to the ferry via Island Gelato – I am my fathers daughter – for ice cream of dreams and a potter in the cute boutique artisan shops of the island.

A quick ferry back to Auckland as darkness rolled in and time to think back on a lovely first leg in Nz. What a place this is! Early night before making the pilgrimage down to the South Island in the morning.

Next stop – Queenstown! New Zealand’s thrill seeking adventure capital, and I fear I feel some poor life choices coming on! x

5am alarm a bit of a shocker, but in keeping with jet lag body clock somewhat so managed to make the tour bus pick-up unscathed.

Boarded the bus for a full-on day of being my best Bilbo and saw the sunrise on the drive down.

The group was a bit dry and not mega chatty so obviously I was their worst nightmare at 6am. Read the room and kept self to self for most part but nice to be around a crew for something like today all the same.

That was, of course, except for Paul… who chose to sit next to me….!

Paul was a holistic sports therapist and chinese medicine expert transitioning to be a horse physio (…of course you are?!?) But currently on tour as a private therapy specialist with a mysterious musician that was talked around excessively but never outright. Between the shady lines, i’m guessing Dua Lipa, as I’m not sure who else has a 53 date European tour coming up, has been in Nz and is wanky enough to need a chinese medicinal specilaist on hand at all times….(though the level of discretion you’dve thought it was Cher or someone actually good). Gunna be a long drive….

Jamie our tour guide was the sweetest guy. Scripted facts made a few repeat appearances thanks to 6hrs driving across the day – “not many people know you can learn to drive on a farm aged 12″…yeah we do though Jamie love cos you told us an hour ago. I was up at 5 though, so lord knows when he started his day, so he’s forgiven.

Arrived at a sun-drenched Hobbiton around 9am and after a scooch around Shires Rest cafe boarded our big green 9.20 tour bus to head into the “village”.

The big bus is where I met the highest concentration of neurodiverse men in one place at one time (short only of my online dating DMs of course!) Many of whom had purchased Legolas ears to wear from the gift shop, god bless their wholesome, enthusiast hearts. One guy had also bought his one ring to rule them all and wanted my help with an array of scenic pics along route. I lovingly obliged whilst he looked terrified at the prospect of being close to a woman. Actual hand shaking, passing me his phone. Nice to know I still have the ability to strike fear into the heart of a grown man buried in there somewhere…(never know when it might be useful)…An enlightening day was had all round!

He also gave me extensive tips about where (fictional dragon) Smaug lived and other cos-play location tours you can do across New Zealand- nodded and smiled and feigned interest all the while thinking – I’m absolutely not gunna go babe but thanks, you’re one of life’s good humans. 

The recently opened Hobbit Hole experience was a lovely little bonus, however, with the opportunity to actually go inside a hobbit home and explore. Really immersive and I was transported straight back to that particularly boring December day amidst the “Christmas gooch” period (when you’re 90% cheese and time and dates are just a forgotten concept) where I completed the marathon of all 3 films in one sitting. 9hrs 27 mins of life I’m sure i could’ve used more wisely in hindsight…but it was that or Mrs Browns Boys special, so needs must!

Sat by the fire in Bilbos chair, took comedy snaps at the dinner table, and like any South londoner, I looked for sneaky “souvenirs” that weren’t glued down…

Our guide was really hard to understand (not an excellent trait when your literal job is to describe and explain events of the day to 30+ people) but shared some good facts about the films and how Peter Jackson lovingly ruled with an iron fist across the set. All elements from sprawling landscape scenes to artificial leaves on artificial trees needing expert and personal scrutiny before being committed to reel. You can see why they’re so proud of the body of work and him as their chief directorial export (along with Taika Waititi who is obviously 2nd place favourite after his truly appalling decision to marry Rita Ora in 2022)

I got asked by guide if “you could just act out this famous scene and be Bilbo please” – cue me running like a loon out the Shire quoting “I’m going on an adventure” – Paul recorded the whole thing unsolicited. (Coming to a LOTR only fans near you…)

Otherwise, the tour was ace and culminated at the Green Dragon Inn for a cold one. I tried the exclusive black hobbit stout…lads lads lads “Split the G” like a total legend etc (some commentary embellished for the blog) and we recouped at the bus to share views on a great morning.

There’s a new epic coming next year, which will be following the rise of Sméagol and his alter ego Gollum, so expect Hobbiton to go from strength to strength if they know what’s good for them.

It really was a blissful picture-perfect day of brilliant sunshine after the dramas of the storms of the last few days. A real highlight of Auckland so far, and no doubt this leg of the journey for sure.

Shame the same can’t be said hugely for part two, Waitomo Gloworm Caves, which paled in comparison to the mornings epic adventure. Lovely to learn some Maori traditional history, but the caves themselves are a little underwhelming. The rule of “it’s culturally not allowed to take photos inside only at the cave entrance”, felt a bit like a spin to ensure actual scenes don’t contest their very slick and very over exposed marketing images which show the roof majestically alight with glow worms. I’d more accurately describe it as an a bit of a budget Santa’s Grotto, ala Bromley shopping centre, but a fun bonus to the day, which was all about hobbits anyway.

Only a couple of days left of Auckland exploring before I venture down south, looking forward to the next few days of fun.

Til soon x

Travel day was a bit of a beast…shorter dubai leg oddly proving to be the worst thanks to world’s loudest family in row in front. Fascinated that two small children could scream at the tv screen for almost 6hrs straight. Exceptional contraceptive advice – thoughts are with all parent readers at this time. Sought solice in rewatching series 12 of Curb your Enthusiam and never felt more Larry in my life.

Result on the 16hr Nz leg, half empty plane (who’s flying dubai to nz on a random tuesday after all!) and got an entire row to myself! Could stretch the legs out, cry at “The Wild Robot” undisturbed, and even got some sleep. Company was courtesy of the lovely Fau, in front, who bizarrely had been sat next to me on leg 1! Swapped horror stories of hideous first leg and talked tales of adventure. Hope to catch up later in the trip as she will be travelling the country too. Swapped Instagrams in true millennial style and waved bye for now. God speed beautiful lady. Hope to catch you soon.

Arrived in Auckland to tropical cyclone Tam, who has decided to grace the city with its presence pretty much til I leave next week. Never mind free blow dry waiting for the airport bus, I was nearly decapitated at the stop! Mental scenes and unsure what will mean for the week ahead. But glad to be on solid earth and only the small matter of trying to stay awake for another 13hrs to contest with!

Arrived at lovely apartment hotel opposite Albert Park in the CBD district and after testing Claire’s excellent scientific beat the jet lag theory (staring at brightest part of the sky in outside space for 15 mins to reset circadian rtythm) me and my partially burned retinas wandered the hills around downtown. As beloved Petula Clarke always says “you can always go, Downtown” so I “listened to music of the traffic in the city” for a bit, got ice cream, because I might be on the other side of the world but it’s always time for ice cream! And decided booze was going to be my friend in my one woman mission to stay awake.

To the Sky Tower!

Given the dogshit weather predictions, thought given a clearish day, the Sky Tower was a good shout. $40 minimum spend at window seat of scenic bar on level 51 or $45 viewing platform ticket for level 52 a no brainer. Bring on the gin! It’s a champagne bar up there so I plumped for a Kir Royale, as I made an important promise to a special pal to keep drinking these around the world for the both of us, plus I’m closer to cheers him when I’m 328m high. Miss you always, Chris.

The swaying at the top in the storm was no joke! Like being at sea but upsettingly high and mid cyclone. Assured of safety and clung to the table hoping for the best. Charming barman Isaac let me through the emergency exit for a free loop round the viewing decks at level 52 and 53 as all the city lights were coming on and watched Auckland fade in twinkly speckled darkness – cheers to him, a lovely bonus for a very jet lagged lady.

The next few days were a mash up of dodging the rain and making the most of activities around the city, having diverted out of town adventures to early next week when the weather (hopefully!) improves.

In idiotic news, i’d sort’ve forgot Easter was a universal concept so had to adapt to loads being closed for most of the weekend and accept that a huge chunk of people leave the city for the long weekend. I plumped for a trip to The Easter Show on Good Friday as one of the few things advertised as running in town. Toloa from Samoa (i know!) was my Uber driver to Auckland Showgrounds. Heavy contender for worlds nicest man, 78 and very wise. Reminded me of the smiley, wrinkled Grandmother in Coco, entertained with stories of learning English and his Samoan roots on the drive. Best part about travel for me is undoubtedly the people you meet along the way.

Turns out the Easter show is utterly terrible! Imagine an old, grubby car park carnie fair which looks baron and unsafe at the same time. I was expecting Ricky Baker pop out at any moment and scam me into losing cash on hook a duck.

Though tragic petting zoo attraction did feature this guy…

Wandered politely for less than half hour, before resorting to a “what’s nearby, Google” salvage mission.

Answer: Cornwall park and the One Tree Hill summit.

So I took full advantage of break in the rain and the 12 steps of yesterday and headed for a lovely walk round this gorgeous, sprawling city park and decided to tackle the summit hike. Very mini, albeit pretty vertical, 1hr hike through the park and up, but a lovely scenic one promising great views across Auckland.

Wind very much at my front but grateful of the breeze. Made it to the top with all the grace of a weezing bull mastiff and enjoyed the views. It was 91% humidity on Good Friday, but perservered as figured jesus went through worse…and said a quiet prayer for my poor hair. It’s bringing back sweaty upper lip alert memories of Singapore travels so trying to maintain what decorum I can is proving tricky. Not ideal for bring back 6ft 5 handsome kiwi man in suitcase plan!

Really lovely walk through Cornwall park after, saw just some of the sheep that outbumber people 5 to 1 here in New Zealand, the native tree arboretum, and some good old fresh air in my lungs. Did wonders to perk me up after travel lag and am glad I made the effort to go.

Invited out by some lads I met in the lift for Good Friday drinks (given windswept state of me not only nice but a miracle!), but massively lagged by the evenings still and the thought of going OUT at 10.30pm was too much for day 3, so I antisociallly ate popcorn in my apartment and watched the Property Brothers #tripofalifetime

My religious experience of the weekend was courtesy of a Steak, Stout and Cheese pie at Pie Rolla. Nz know how to do Pies and I’d heard rumblings of this place before I even arrived in Auckland. So I made the pilgrimage to a newer part of town in search of the goods. And boy did it not disappoint. Quick shout out to my hatred of viral food locations which led to me having to eat an entire pie at 11am before they sold out! Opened at 8am. Whoever is eating a steak pie at 8am should be given some sort of role with  political influence, they’re doing life better than us. Simple as.

I will be dreaming of that pie for a long time. ..will have to see if the South Island cities can match up…for scientific research purposes of course.

Next stop was a visit to Rugby Mecca, Eden park for their famed stadium tour and a glimpse into All Blacks life. And because I am my father’s daughter this was a must on the Auckland list.

Excellent tour conducted by John, a Mount Eden local who has been going to games at Eden Park since 1963. Sat at Dan Carter’s dressing room locker, managed to touch the hallowed turf and left stuffed full of knowledge about the stadium. A really brilliant 90 minutes of behind the scenes wandering and peering into a slice of rugby (and cricketing) history.

Proudly navigated the Auckland public bus system back to the CBD district and swung by the Auckland Art Gallery to end the day #Highbrow #cultured #sorainy #itwasinsideandfree

Had a brief Happy Easter facetime with the family as I was going to bed and they were having 11am coffee and hot cross buns. Then it was a mouthful of mini eggs and bed before a 5am alarm for Hobbiton tomorrow.

Bring on The Shire!

Diary of quarter life crisis makes it’s joyous return.

Firstly, you’re welcome.

Secondly….I know what you’re thinking…quarter life!? But we’re gunna ignore that whilst I confidently project I will live to 140. Plus pretty sure Diary of Mid Life Crisis.com would’ve been taken and also make me sound like an insufferable male podcast movement (Jk…no men with podcast equipment also have the level of self awareness to recognise they are in crisis). But whatever I’m still paying for this domain name so we roll…

You find me very much not where you left me. Instead, I’m 5 years on, and fresh out the lobby of Heartbreak Hotel (1/10, do not recommend!). But 2025 is the year I promised myself I had to check out of there with whatever sanity remained (actual amounts tbc) and instead do something nice for me. Cos I think after the utterly on-brand, involuntary shit show of this past year, I deserve it.

So I booked another adventure – wahoo (what could possibly go wrong I hear you ask!?) especially since I’m rolling solo again (let us pray!) cos lord knows I needed the joy!

For the day 1 huns, it really will be like the good old days of tales of travels on my larry, though Liz will of course be missed in real life and the readership figures! For any new faces, this blog is probs best described as stream of consciousness calamity meets attempt to confirm travel status as ‘don’t worry family im still alive’.

I’ve plotted a route of “I really want to go there” places, which, coincidently make zero geographical sense, but who cares. I am also bare old these days so “portraits of hostel dwellers” will be replaced with “characters from the swanky hotel lobby” because, no, I don’t want to have to wear flip flops when I shower or sleep below the dorm’s crusty top-shagger bunk bed (been there, done that, had the tshirt stolen etc)

I start as I mean to go on, in the Heathrow Terminal 3 lounge (thanks family for the treat) with a glass of fizz, a smorgasbord of cheese and the impending doom of the world’s longest continuous flight…

First stop New Zealand 🇳🇿 – just the casual 27hr journey to get through first. Pray for me (and an upgrade) and promise I’ll report on news of what the other hemisphere has in store when I get there…if you promise to tell me what Tuesday 15th April was like because I will miss the entire thing trapped in a tin can in the sky!

So for now, here’s to being brave, doing hard things and reminding myself this girl (hopefully!) can. But most importantly, cheers to putting my money where my mouth is in pursuit of a new, better, happier chapter (and returning with all my limbs in tact this time!)

See you on the other side x

The inevitable time has fiiiiinally come, the day you’ve all waited for, yes it’s really got THAT bad….I’ve started this shit show blog up again.

For those of you who were waiting for this as the cue to dig out the absinthe and drink yourselves into final oblivion, you’ll be missed on the readership figures…for those of you who’ve waited patiently…baited breath to read these aloud to one another, hands held, Kumbaya style round the fire…I thank you for your patience…and yes that is the sound of birds singing and children laughing on the wind, for happy days are here again! #givethepeoplewhatheywant

First off, let’s address what an absolute pile of shit all this is innit. No amount of ‘Live, Laugh, Love’ is gunna get us through to lunchtime let end of the day at the mo, but the good news is where positive mental attitude fails, gin comes into it’s own. I would personally like to take the opportunity to applaud not only our key workers but also our gin distillers at this difficult and unprecedented time.

Nugget of wisdom alert: nothing like an international viral disaster and empty shelves for us all to realise that tonic is fucking tonic and that “premium aromatic mixers” are not essential!! I think I speak for us all when I say that at least 70% of us would’ve drunk turps by the middle of week 2…so let’s not be pretentious twats about this shall we! #youknowwhoimtalkingabout #brandsthatrhymewithFeverBee

So amidst becoming what I am proudly declaring as an “entry level alcoholic” I am also now moonlighting as a semi professional “colour-er in-er” and “things in the cupboard flavour” gourmet chef. #yetmorestringstomybow #itsnotfairontheothersnowiknow #somanyendlesstalents

In exciting news, I’m recently “off the market” I guess you’d say…. for now (cue hearts of men breaking across the nation…#iknowiknow #sozbabe) acutely aware there’s still time for me to royally fuck that up, but for now I’m still full Bridget, but just that bit near the end of the first film, where she’s charming and hasn’t made a tit out of herself in front of his work friends yet. He’s less sappy than Marc Darcy and less of a twat than Daniel Cleaver so….reviews don’t come much more stellar than that do they! #andtheysayromanceisdead

But hey, nothing like a global pandemic to add that je n’ais ce quoi to my glittering dating career. What could possibly go wrong joint quarantining with someone I’ve known for less time than those potatoes have been in my cupboard!! Isolation dating pastimes have so far included “low level passive aggressive arguing about what to watch on Netflix” “anything you want sweetheart….oh not that…..how about this” and perfecting “oh I always chill at home like this” in overtly glamorous outfits and not that old jumper with the gravy stain on it….

“Met the parents” via Zoom (#somodern #edgy #technologicaltrailblazers). The entire experience was as to be expected, flagged by dad’s self professed “internationally humorous” brand of chat…the opening gambit of “To be honest, we are just glad to see someone is actually interested in Emma” as predictable as it was side splittingly witty………!!! #dadbants

But so far so good eh…and on a (rarely) serious note, he is in the “absolutely nailing it” quartile of the ‘How great is this man’ charts (in a completely PG sense you absolute perverts…#bitofblueforthedads #everyonelovesaninuendo) He is painfully attractive and also top bants (I know what you’re thinking…a combo you thought only I had perfected…appaz not!) and has actually saved me from going “full Sylvia Plath” in times of isolation quarantine (#highbrowreference) so let’s take some time to applaud him for that amidst his many other qualities. You’re doing good JB ❤ (though all this reminds me to dig out that stick to bat off all the suitors who will inevitably continue to throw themselves at me. What can I say it’s a cross I have to bare. #hardlife #formanorderlyqueue #gravystainedjumperchic

Given that this crisis has highlighted that the majority of my hobbies apparently centre around going out to only non essential businesses and touching my face….keeping oneself entertained is proving more challenging than first anticipated.

Completed Netflix last year when I did isolation 1.0 with a broken leg…and scooped up the rest of the additions during isolation 2.0 the ‘2020 unemployment’ edition which I’ve been in for like 3 months before this shit even started lads! So I’m kind’ve a pro…and also completely out of ideas…#nohopefortherestofyou

Plus…there’s only so many living room performances of Les Mis you can do before your neighbours try to set your house on fire….get really jel of your Broadway quality singing talents #triplethreat #callmyagent #wheresmytonyawardbabe #doyouhearthepeoplesing #yeahwevehearditforthatlast3weeksbabe (cheeky little Les Mis pun for you all you musical fans! You’re welcome…)

 

Who knows where the end to this bizarre tunnel is and whether more government enforced disappointment lies on the other side. A bit like when you drive through the Dartford tunnel with such hope and excitement only to get to the other side and realise you’re not in Narnia but only in fucking Essex…but we shall keep calm and carry on in true British style.

Like our great grandparents before us who dodged night raids, bombings and the oppressing, all encompassing fear of war, we shall continue to sit on our arses eating an array of high carbohydrate snacks and binge watching old episodes of Friends we have already seen until this all blows over #wecanbeheroes #pivot #scoffitlikeitshot

But for now, I’m off, I’ve got several wildly unnecessary items to order off Amazon, 5 suburban roads of government approved walking than need hoofing and 6hrs of “Heart Fm 90s” to listen to whilst I attempt to convince the hot guy living in my house I am actually a complete catch….til soon xx

Dear Emma (on the last day of your 20s),

Boyfriends – 0
Cigarettes smoked – 0
Weddings attended – 4,586
Hours spent listening to James Taylor and Joni Mitchell whilst wistfully staring out the window as if you’re in a music video – too many to count!

So, what phrase is best to sum up the decade? I know what you’re thinking….”NAILED IT”…but let’s be honest, probably “erm…..riiiiiiight” is more apt. Get real here, I’m not entirely sure even Charlie Sheen would have seen some of this last 10 years as “winning” (which considering he was confident he had “dragon blood” is a bit of a fail!)

Sure there’s been some amazing bits…but there’s also been big change! So let’s have a little re-run and see what we can learn for the next 10 years…

The heady “good old days” of slavishly trekking to Nottingham University’s premier night spot, Ocean every Friday when you were 20 are now replaced with drinking high end gin and erm….wishing you could still get away with going to Ocean every Friday…!

You’ve had “more jobs than hot dinners” – *actual hideously gross quote someone barked at me once* so in the spirit of independent womanhood, I am repurposing it for my own gain #allmyladieswhoindependent #howaboutdontbeadicktopeople

But in amongst the melé, you’ve become a fully qualified project manager with a very expensive certificate to your name (yeah, not quite sure how that happened either!) You’ve been “all about the kids” innit working at youth prisons, charities and museums. You’ve convinced George Osbourne to spend £150million on saving at risk artefacts, launched projects for Prince Charles and been heckled by prisoners. You’ve developed an unhealthy obsession with coloured stationary and “Big Pens” (…Pens….! read it again, with your mind out the gutter!!!) and we’ll gloss over the being asked to leave TWICE thing….

All this not including, your unofficial stint as a semi professional wedding guest / amateur photographer and, phew! Surely it must be time to retire soon, right?! (lol, JK….you’ll be down the coal mines at 80 the rate this economy and pension thing is going #ooohpolitical #highbrow)

Still, in positive news, after 10 years of graft think we’ve finally worked out what the consistent annoyance of jobs of the past decade is…it’s the “having work for a living” bit we dont enjoy….so I’m really glad we have at least sussed that for the future! #bitofadilemma #lotteryticketanyone

Your love life can most accurately be described as “average to poor”…but at least there’s room for improvement eh!

You’ve had one long term almost 5 year relationship this decade which, although we wouldn’t have changed it, involved an obscene amount of money being spent on sitting on a train for 5 hours every other weekend, only to finally end up in Kettering!!! Which, if you haven’t been to Kettering the best way I can describe it is, DON’T.

There have been a few too many wayward dating choices in this second half of the 20s…less said about those the better…but least you got some lols stories for the pub out of it. #everycloud #anotherdayinbridgetjonesparadise #someofthemmadeDanielCleaverlookalright

Annnnd, we know what we want and what we are looking for now (sort of!?) and even though he seems to be hiding under a shitting rock somewhere, will turn up at some point I’m sure #itsnotMarkDarcy #evenicouldntgetoverthatjumper

Social life has basically been “too busy for your own good!” And apart from 2017 where you had that really full of life, positive new years resolution of “say no to more stuff”, have pretty much “completed it mate” when it comes to social living it up.

You’ve been to 4,586 weddings in barns and seen a disproportionate amount of ways you can decorate with jam jars! (Public service announcement…no amount of glitter or ribbon makes it not just look like a jam jar!!)

You’ve eaten a LOT of sad looking roast dinners and drunk a LOT of “wine for the table” whilst making inane bullshit chit chat with more than enough “uncle knobheads” to last a lifetime. You’ve got drunk and embarrassed yourself thinking you can actively dance to a LOT of club classics and tried to bribe more than your fair share of DJs into playing “just one more Wham song” once the lights have gone on, and the bride and groom have basically already been on honeymoon for a week and a half!

Unbelievably, you have been to zero divorce parties (think that will be the jist of the 30s….we all…and let’s face it I think also you…know who you are)

You’ve broken your leg (did you mention that? The leg….not sure if people knew….) you’ve dyed your hair for the first time at the age of 20 bloody 8 – mainly spurred by that time you found that grey hair in the lift at work and genuinely nearly took it into your 1:1 appraisal as “evidence” you needed more holiday days!!! #50shadesofgrey #thenotsexyworkedition

You’ve spent a gross amount on a gym membership you don’t use enough, you’ve baked 50 obscenely expensive surprise birthday cakes and 100 failed batches of macaroons (get in the bloody bin French Patisserie!!!!) You’ve made new friends, got rid of some gross ones, joined dating apps, been on a series of horrendous dates which have only been successful as “funny stories for colleagues” and kissed a whole lot of frogs.

You’ve seen the world (though still not enough for that scratch map in the front room to look impressive yet!) so keep that up between now and 40 please! You’ve tried new foods, done new things, relied mainly on yourself and did a bloody good job of it (except that leg bit, thank God for Liz and the fam!)

You finally moved into your own little gaff and though you’ve decorated it like an ADHD child was given a pot of neon paint and several thousands of pounds to spend in junk shops, it’s yours (…to rent…every month…at an obscene expense!) Be happy there and don’t forget to lock up, even when drunk!

Goals for the next decade are to just have a laugh, try and find your way in this maze called being a grown up, pay your bills, work hard, love wholeheartedly (lols, or continue to do so skeptically and cynically! Just cos you’re 30 doesnt mean you need a personality transplant). Go on fun holidays, make new friends, just accept you will never understand Snapchat or who or what a “Dua Lipa” is, and try not to break, smash, or burn anything down.

As an aside, if a 6ft 4 Rugby player wants to come along for the next bit of the ride, then well that would be absolutely fine. Let’s work on that! But maybe do important shit like get a job first!…

(But seriously….where are all the fit single rugby players?!?)

It might’ve had its ups and downs, but hey, at least it wasnt bloody boring!

So…talk thirty to me! Not entirely sure what this decade will hold for us, if we’ve learnt anything these past 10 years it’s that only mystery, questionable men (and “save the date” cards) seem to be round most corners! But a wise pair once said “you can only do your best, as your best is all you can do” (pretty sure the rents only intended that advice to be for tryna pass GCSEs and shit, not as a blanket policy for your entire life…but whatever, it’s good advice!)

So “catch ya later” 29 (probs actually will, like when you’re 35 and over this “old” thing and think you can still get away with being 29 forever!) Its been fun…mostly…but for now, we got a hot date with this new guy called 30, but dont worry, cos you’ve got this! You’re totally ready for it…

…I think!

Emma x

“Let’s celebrate!…There’s a party going on right here..a celebration to last throughout the years. So bri…” well yeah you get the jist!!!

Well can you chuffin’ believe it? This weekend marks 6 whole months since I snapped my leg like a Twiglet at a shit christmas party, and I know exactly what you’re thinking….no one cares! But since I’ve still got a LOT of time on my hands thought it should be marked with a blog.

It’s hard to think that half a bloomin’ year has passed, when all I really have to show for it is:

– Borderline gout for most of December thanks to just keep saying “I can eat this cheese cos I’ve got a broken leg and I’m sad”,

– A lapsed but still expensive gym membership

– And a certificate (which I made myself, decorated in Crayon, that says I’ve “completed Netflix”!!

And I’m not even exagerrating, that really is all I’ve got to show for it. Unless you also count my badass scars…which I like to tell unsuspecting children, were from a shark bite!

It’s been a rocky road to April though and broken leg life has thrown more than a few trials an tribulations my way!

The first 3 months were essentially spent with a prescription drug habit that would’ve put Charlie Sheen to shame. #doitfortheTram #goingcoco-damol! I quickly learned it’s never good when you are researching side effects of your narcotic medication, that “Talk to Frank”, “Narcotics Anonoymous” and Adverts for the Priory, feature in the top 10 Google results… (it does however explain city-wide popularity of over the counter versions purchased in Vietnam and explain why Liz had so much trouble tracking some of those badboys down. She was essentially living the life of a low level pusher for 3 days…for those who don’t know Liz, think Wee-Bey from the Barksdale crew but with the figure of Elle McPherson)

I only spent around 4 hours a day awake…and most of that time was either spent crying from pain, eating aforementioned cheese or jabbing myself in the stomach with blood thinners. That is one bad boy anyone who ever breaks a limb abroad conveniently forgets to mention!!! 64 continuous days of daily, self administered injections to combat the high risk of blood clots, thanks to cabin pressure and snapped limbs not being the best of pals! I never had a lifetime ambition to own my own “yellow sharps disposal box” and I hope never to have one again! #pileofshit #jabberthefuck?!

I had far too many toooo close for comfort encounters when it came to reaching a toilet in the middle of the night! Started to make that Kermode from the ward seem like a smart idea! Next time youre desperate for a wee at 3am, I challenge you to walk there with one leg and imagine the other still in pieces as you drag yourself, half asleep and crying to the bathroom! #roleplaynoonewannado

Personal highlight of course not forgetting my actual breakdown in my local shopping centre back in Jan! I can safely say my local shopping precinct is pretty much the most depressing place on earth anyway, so couple that with a ludicrous argument which stemmed from where to store a Gary Barlow autobiography and you’ve set yourself the scene!

Hindsight helps me, to of course, find the funny, but the start of 2019 was (as my beloved Bill and Ted would say) “Most Henious”!!! When you’re already feeling rock bottom and then you break your shitting leg in the most ridiculous freak accident on the most needed “cheer yourself up” holiday ever, it’s hard to think the world is not against you!!

I’m sure I’m not the only one who spends most days thinking they are actually on The Truman Show, and any minute all will be revealed as an elaborate hoax and I’ll realise it was all a big lol and I’ll win a speedboat and get to start again!!

This leg has prompted, hands down, some of the darkest, shittest days I’ve ever had…and left me with a few hefty scars on the inside too. I’ve realised who’s around when the chips are down, the nice ones from the utter, raging narcissists and that true heartbreak comes from that horrific feeling of being thrown away by friendships too. I’ve had months of sleepless nights, days of drifting from start to finish, drained of effort and energy. I’ve shed countless tears over my inability to do the silliest, simplest of tasks and thought 150,000 times as to why we didn’t just go to the fucking beer tent and not walk down the hill to see that bloody piece of shit statue of the Buddah!!!!

It’s been bloody awful. And I’ve hated so much of it. And I think that bit is important to tell too.

Keep an eye out for your friends lads, we’ve all got our own battles to fight, so remember to be kind, always strive to be a better friend and don’t throw people away when things get hard. Cos it might be the hardest knock of them all. We all fall down from time to time so remember to be there to pick people up..hold out a hand and hope they’ll do the same for you.

But I’ve made it to April, the haloed 6 month milestone, the first the consultants said I would reach and begin to feel better. And they were right. I’ve said bye to the wheelchair, the permanent double crutches and the moonboot and can now walk tall (if a bit limpy) with the the one stick which I hope will be a distant memory in a couple of months time.

I’m able to visit a toilet unaided (living the 29 year old dream!) I’m able to drive (only the automatic mind…id shred the clutch at the best of times!) Aaaaand can stay awake for most of the day thanks to absence of spoony meds #skillstopaythebills #winningatadulting

I’m grasping a regained sense of independence with both hands and a heart full of admiration for people who face the difficulties of long term disabilities every day. I’ve written strongly worded emails to 3 different train network providers for unbelievably shit customer service for passengers with mobility issues and brandished my stick in fury more times than I can remember…but with a fair bit of physical and mental hard work, im beginning to feel a little bit like myself again!

6 months may seem like a silly celebration, but for many reasons, not too long ago, felt like a milestone I’d neeeever bloody reach! So screw the silliness!!!! Cos today I’ll be pouring myself a bloody big gin, throwing on some Bill Turnbull Classics and saying “onwards and upwards to the rest of 2019”! The half a year of minimal dramas (….please!!!)

Xx