Yes, that’s my voice tickling your ears. Gotta love a bit of yam-yam, right? You can find the story, as well as a few other brief testimonials, in Fight the Sky. If you liked the audio, you can also download the complete audiobook - just name your price. :)

Here are a few overused and meaningless words I despise:

~*Fabulous*~
Festive
Fresh
Free
Fierce

Why do they all begin with F? It makes my blood boil that anything remotely feminine deemed worthy for advertisement is either fabulous or glamorous or drowning in sequins. Festive is so liberally applied to anything within five metres of a string of tinsel that it now looks wrong when applied to any other occasion, such as Hallowe’en or Easter. There is so much emphasis on food being quality and fresh when really, there is nothing fresh about Subway. The salad comes out of a bag. There ain’t nothin’ fresh about Greggs sausage rolls or pizza slices from Ditsch or pretzels or donuts or milkshakes. Stop cramming such processed twice-digested rubbish down my throat – I know what it is, it is junk! And free? Don’t make me choke. If everything claiming to be interest free or free for the first year or available now with a free digital copy or 100% extra free was actually all it was cracked up to be, we’d all be living extravagant lives without spending a dime. It’s only free if I sign my income away for the next five years or consent to buying a box three times the size I usually do or immerse myself in an embarrassing amount of debt to a company of loan sharks interested only in finishing me off. See what I did there? FINishing me off? WOW YES. What a fierce thing to say. I am actually growling ferociously as I type this, fingernails filed down to points, my remaining teeth grinding against each other in a maddened mash of filling. I mean feeling. If that doesn’t get you cavitating, I don’t know what will.

There are underused words out there deserving of love. Ones beginning with F, such as FROLIC and FRENZY and FASTIDIOUS. I am also partial to the occasional utterance of FARCICAL, which sums up the mood.

It’s been lovely to have the rabbits around for Christmas. They don’t live with me so I see them when I go to my mum’s, which isn’t all that often. Christmas has been the perfect excuse to hassle them and stuff myself with good food at the same time. I have heard all about their most recent bad behaviours – Jaster helping himself to an apple, covering himself in sawdust, playing dead on the new upstairs landing carpet and thus transforming himself into an unavoidable tripping hazard, sitting in a wheelbarrow with Chip and refusing to budge, looking like lords of their own sad little kingdom of grass cuttings. Oh, to be a rabbit without rule or reason.

I didn’t sleep well on Christmas Eve. I wish I could say it was down to excitement. I think six days of book-related retail mania at work killed off bits of my soul. I got up at sevenish on Christmas Day and unwrapped a few books, mugs and bits of baking paraphenalia which I will happily put to use in the New Year. Sue and Jack did likewise; I haven’t seen much of the latter, probably owing to the fact that he now has Uncharted 3 to distract himself with. Not the kind of game you ignore!

We prepared dinner at my flat – I quickly made a round of shortbread to take back with us (YES IT WAS FRESH), and Sue started on the creme brulée. After returning to my mum’s I got started on my lovely hardback edition of Wuthering Heights and finally watched the first two episodes of Game of Thrones. Jaime doesn’t look like Jaime, I don’t like the actress playing Cersei, Jon Snow and Robb Stark look far too old, Daenarys is annoying, the direwolves are too cute, Cat has no majesty about her…but Arya is spot on, Viserys is perfect, Sean Bean is Sean Bean is The Best. So it let me down and spurred me on to pre-order the boxset, all in the space of two hours and an overdose of lengthy commercial breaks. What an emotional whirlwind.

Today we ventured into town for a walk…there were too many sale-faced bag-wielding nutters about for my liking. Sue managed to lose her bank card, and I found a nice green cardigan in Topshop to go with all my other nice green cardigans I coo over and never wear. Useful. Now I’m strapped to the settee once again, ready to watch The Borrowers with hot drink in hand and an empty head. I’m not ready for work tomorrow, but I don’t suppose any of us are ready for work. Work is something that follows you down dark alleys and looks over your shoulder when you’re desperate for privacy. Work is a life-long Nosy Parker you can only deter with carefully acquired Impossible Wealth, or a fortunate yet non-fatal injury resulting in Accidental Yet Still Welcome Impossible Wealth. How fabulous.

Burnt Sugar

Ripped paper in the morning,
burnt the sugar just past four -
now I’m sprawling, warm and yawning
thinkin there aint nothin more
I could ask of Now, this day.
Disconnected by choice,
waking only to say I am
rested, I declare myself bested by
all the festivities, the
collected best restive
you requested of me.
I have switched off the phone and
the box remains black,
finished dinner then dessert, said
Good Day to the jack of all trades
what’s gone his own Christmas Way.
The woman here is peaceful,
sits still for a change.
Watchin lights nest in branches,
knowing now it is strange to
chop trees then dress them up in this way.
Tradition I bow to ‘cos it don’t hurt and
I care not for disruption today.
I ask only to be left on my own
for this minute, the moment
containing me in it, it takes all
my restraint not to say nothin.
It feels good just to know I’m not running
for a change. Tomorrow we can stir again,
ready for a new year
what’s winging our way.
But today I aint movin or kicking,
just lickin warm custard from my spoon,
passing time without purpose,
goin nowhere
in the very best way.

25.12.2011

All Roads Lead To Duinhell

Should I wish to summarise
the summer that I’ve had,
I’d know not where nor how to begin,
so perhaps it’s best I had
keep quiet about things
like tent-life and earwigs,
skinny dipping in the north sea,
Domino’s pizza, eat like kings;
Dutch bikes nicked from bus stops,
long bike rides for Starbucks,
more games of tops than you can count,
Baron Pils running low now…

…make a mess, won’t tidy up no;
tomorrow’s Canvas on gazebos!
Phil Kemp’s going ape shit
‘cos the Live Area’s a right pit
and we don’t even care
there’s nothing to clean with,
give me Glaze and a pillow case,
five back to backs, none of ‘em leaving.
Three Irish cleans and you’re hung-over,
reception when you’re nearly sober,
if you’re lucky, a spin on the gator;
Wait no, maybe later -
Jack’s nicked it for his visits.
Does any of this interest?
Or shall I stop with the flashback,
all the times we did look back
over our shoulder,
don’t know the rest so
sing the same line ten times over.
Ring of Fire, another barbecue,
ignorant to all world news,
but it’s fine. Walk with me, now,
as I step back in time.
To the day that I arrived;
night coming, I’m terrified,
Nicola gets me from the airport,
leaves me stranded by the
gazebos’ light.
Jack moves into my tent,
cleans it up like he’s not spent
four hours in the Prestige;
he sleeps a lot but will help me
when I’m stressed out at nothing,
digging trenches and supping
on pasta or ice cream,
chocolate milk and fine cake.
He ate Death By Chocolate,
lived to see another day.
In the next tent was our Mike from Grimsby,
made me my first curry,
always there with a smile
when he wasn’t on about fish or rugby;
lived with a pirate who went cockling,
spoke highly of wheelie bins,
never dull that one, a character,
say it with me now – Big Bear, RARRR.
And Nicole on my other side,
Night at Rickie’s? Sounds about right,
and she’s loud, but remember, she’s just sayin’.
Our only Dutch girl loved Asians,
or was that Germans? Dear Roxy
spent the summer trying to get out
of reception, any way or how,
but there’s no escaping blocked sinks,
still twenty passes to write out.
And I remember the first tent crawl,
the ‘boring tent’ best of all;
still got my medal hung on the wall.
Eilidh and Rachel dressed in curtains,
just used my last wash token,
so Rachel best get in that office,
have you seen her round at Nathan’s?
Might be with Eilidh in A&E
‘cos I hear there’s been a catastrophe
involving a thumb and a bin lid,
oh Eyelid, you astound me.
Making cupcakes in MV23,
peanut butter’s sounding good to me,
knew I’d miss it when I got home,
back to Wolves, the streets I loathe to roam.
Still, Liv’s been keeping it safe and dry,
tent-life was effort
so the man doth fly;
knew I’d see him down the pub again,
probably surrounded by the twenty friends
we have in common, and I still don’t know
how we only just met.
Slide round the corner to the next tent,
believe you’ll find Matt and Daf next;
two very different chaps
but they’re both Keycamp’s finest.
Matt got a job teaching snowboarding
in Canada, which means he must be lording
it over the rest of us.
Hope that bad knee holds up.
Daf’s probably rested at home,
watching Scrubs with a brand new phone,
dreaming of Biofresh and Quilligans,
banned for life but they’ll be back again;
Dave will book you in a cook mobile
leave it messy so it takes a while
once you’ve nicked all our saucepans,
and the fridge has been defiled.
Weirder things happened, though,
in the tent we all know
as the one with a peephole
and a zip that don’t go
all the way up.
Yep, that tent’s been through a lot -
it survived Sam, a few bad ideas,
at 3am, blasting Johnny Cash -
gotta ask, are you having a laugh?
And Lucy despairs but she’s delighted:
there’s pink cloths in the store tent,
clothes on the way off the internet,
now if only Phil would give her that bottle of Pimms.
Where to is that bottle of Pimms, Phil?
I’m curious, might ask if you’re being serious,
but I wouldn’t phrase it as well as Ceris.
Kelly’s off on a mission somewhere,
you’ll see her as a blur of red hair,
get her tipsy and
she’ll race you to the sea.
She lived next to a girl with
enough volume for three -
can’t forget about Katie,
her and George, and – wait, a baby?
Her and Ceris went too early,
can’t blame them for wanting real beds.
Katie shared with Van Bartlett,
lost his teeth to a reclining chair,
lookin’ Dutch with his slicked back hair,
don’t worry about it,
you know he doesn’t care.
And the ones who lasted longest,
the Jenster and Ten-Euro Todd,
the Welshest person I have ever met,
have Swansea been relegated yet?
I’ll be nice ‘cos they were great to me,
Jen’s - goes down in history,
and Todd, barely able to stand up,
comes for a hug in your clean
so you can prop him up,
so many late nights,
did you sleep? Not yet.
That’s what an ECO break’s for, don’t forget.
Not all your arrivals are in just yet,
so it can’t be Mike’s turn ‘cos he’d never let
himself have a busy turn on night duty.
Oh leader, who did detest the Miffy,
on his way to conquer Italy,
like to think he will not beat our team,
though he’ll try to suppress the memories.
I feel we’ve reached a point
of no return, my friend.
Let’s see this summer now
through to its inevitable end,
so many more to mention,
still so much to say -
let’s take a look
at the second wave
of hardy couriers who knew not what
came their way.
Sophie Brown, my love,
slow it down,
your tongue’s trip-tripping
going round and round,
how many words in that sentence, now?
Sneaking tables past security
with Kelly, heard the footage
was far too funny
to be true. Tell me, Sophie,
what would we have done without you?
Negative on the dull front,
never knew what to expect next,
what you’d do.
Raising mayhem with Bruno
in the tent next to you -
Amy’s awesome
‘cos she smuggles me rations of food
and when I’m delirious
with sleeplessness
she’ll bleach tables for you, too,
run them down to the Eiland
do gas runs ‘til you can’t see
what it is you must do.
Don’t play I Have Never with her
‘cos you’ll soon learn
there’s fuck all she
hasn’t been through.
From the way that I’m rhyming
you can guess that the next
name I’m running
might belong to Tom Blew.
Did he get back to England,
or did he end up in France?
Left his passport in his suitcase,
oh what are the chances,
Mr Anne Frank, that you’d end up
in Sam’s tent, the maddest tent in the camp?
Feel like I should mention the Wank Bank
whilst I can, that ridiculous laugh,
though you didn’t tear my tent down,
and I’m grateful for that.
Don’t think Hayley would’ve been too impressed,
in fact I’m sure she’d have stressed
what prats you’ve all been.
I hope she’s dining on the very best cheesecake,
one of the recipes I made
so many times, shared it all.
Remember those bang-tidy brownies,
carrot cake and we’re drowning
in sweet treats and sugar.
Though every time I baked I’d think bugger
I feel bad for Emily,
who can’t eat a bite of it,
except for the topping
so I’ll spoon on extra just for her.
Cycling to Katwijk for ice cream,
catch a sunset, I’ve never seen
one quite like it since.
And we’ll stop here to reflect on
the days passed, knowing we’ll
none of us share
another time like this.
And it wasn’t done yet -
just when you expected the death
of summer there came
reinforcements, late arrivals
to shake up the scene.
They came in a car
laden with cases
and by the looks on their faces
they weren’t impressed
by what they had seen!
So we tidied the live area again
though mobile life was close now,
days in the tent grown old
goodbye to earwigs and oh yes, the mold.
Adam and Heidi took over
the tent next to mine,
guitar chords drifting over,
made her a cake the one time,
there was Hannah and Damo,
usually got me for ECO,
and we all know my bad luck with that.
Hannah, we never made coffee cake,
though between the lot of us we did
get a fair amount of cake making done.
Casper tried a few, how brave of him,
the new novelty Dutch employee,
though I had to ask
to make sure he wasn’t English.
We all went to Leiden’s festival,
rode the rides, best of all
won a Miffy in a claw machine,
on which we took out our stress.
Didn’t see Nick that night
but I usually did,
he cycled to Leiden for kebabs I believe,
should write a tour book
with ratings in
on where the best ones are bought.
In the tent behind now
was Charlotte and Jodie,
went cleaning in her wellies,
nights out at Rickie’s
with the Demo team,
end up in Scheven when they should be here,
can Colin get out of this one?
Have no fear;
he managed somehow
to see it through to
the end.
Mel and Dean lived together
in Kelly’s tent,
and I remember with Lucy we went
to Amsterdam which she was seeing
for the first time.
Ice Bar just as cold
as the name suggests,
Anne Frank’s house tough to digest,
coulda done with a song to
make the tension feel less.
Last of all there came Grannia,
which I was told you say
so it rhymes with Narnia,
she’s from Wolves, there’s an army
of us invading, it’s good to say,
as I’m waved on my way.
Before we end there’s time to say
that it wouldn’t have been the same
without Al Fresco, in convoy,
Fran’s late so
they can’t clean their kids’ rooms today.
Amy and Alex despair
‘cos Dulcie’s no longer there
and Iona’s gone her own merry way.
Iona, can I remind you
of the time we went to
the beach at five AM to see the clouds.
Chilling in your mobile watching TV,
pizza, snacks and we’re hiding,
might go to the viewpoint just to see
the five cities one last time.
You can get there on the gator,
take a walk or steal a bike,
so I guess Beth’s name
must be the next for
without her I’d not have mine.
So cheers Beth for the Stycle,
a calamity I love,
I’m taking it back to England
and pray I don’t get mugged.
Beth, Dan and Kate went off on adventures,
escaping the Canvas cull -
they weren’t the first team or the last
but the ones we knew in full.
Oh wait, I forgot Mr Frik himself,
Olly with his running club.
Him and Ronnie never far away,
more friks on the Barbie? Can’t get enough.
Connor was the boss in  orange,
Alice dressed as a crayon,
from the first group we missed
Stacey, Chedz, Darrell
and the last group,
I…didn’t know anyone!
Except Mike 4, never promoted,
although there was only two in the end.
Mike 2 apparently was an interesting bloke,
gone before I got there,
but I did have the bespoke
privilege of meeting Lydia, briefly,
used her bucket for cleaning,
never met Scott which I’m sure is a shame.
I’m afraid, friends,
that I now run short of names.
Time too, I suppose, is short,
it flew by,
year’s end awaits,
before you know it this one expires;
but with these words I might remember,
in the future some time,
what happened in Holland
when Eurocamp sported the lime
and we wore blue,
those horrid cyan flowers,
Marcell laughed, which I like to think
gave us the power
to succeed with our cleaning,
our arrivals, our visits,
race to the Tikibad after work,
give Rick the Frog a swift kick
up the arse and run off,
that damnable frog,
can’t look at Miffy the same way,
living for cheese, windmills and clogs,
not forgetting Crazy Pianos,
barred from Nordwijk for no reason,
Duinrell Olympics, frikandel eating contest,
so much more madness this season.
Let us all thank Phil Courtney
for this grand opportunity
to shame ourselves
in this way,
it was fun, don’t  need reminding.
All roads lead to Duinhell,
a challenge we transcend -
home for winter,
a chance to recover,
in time for reunion
where we’ll live it again.

 I had a brilliant time at the Britney concert. I know she’ll always get bad press, and there’s no musician alive who is to every single person’s tastes, but for what she does, she’s ideal and doesn’t disappoint. Me and Lisa got there around six-thirty and took our seats (high up on the right hand side – I couldn’t take any decent pictures because if I try to zoom in with my digital camera, it reports a ‘lens error’ and shuts itself off), observing as the LG Arena slowly but surely filled up. Some people were dressed in Britney costumes, others in tour shirts – it was pretty cool. The venue’s huge, so there was an insane amount of people there! The first support act were a bit cheesy, but Joe Jonas was surprisingly good. I’d actually consider listening to his record, he did a good job. Britney looked a bit uncomfortable at first but once she started smiling and talking to the crowd, she relaxed and the show got going. Immaculate stage show, by the way. The budget must have been astronomical! Moving parts, trap doors, aerial acrobatics, fireworks, platforms descending from the sky, a car rolling across stage (during How I Roll, naturally), angel wings…it was the perfect pop show. I’m glad I didn’t myself with taking photos; I just wanted to drink in every bit of it. Visually, very impressive. I’ve found a quick video clip (there are quite a few others on Youtube) and photos from others that were there, so I’m going to share those instead. Full credit to whoever uploaded these!

The only way the night could’ve been better would be if she’d sang Stronger. Or Break The Ice. Still, we had so much fun!

I’m back at work now, today was my third shift. It feels like I never really left, just spent along weekend in a tent. Is that a good thing or a bad thing? Who knows. Either way, I’m earning money for Christmas presents and surrounded by people I like, so it can’t be a bad thing. I’m knackered, but that’s nothing unusual. I’m still trying to sort my sleeping pattern out. Consuming copious levels of caffeine won’t help me with this, but tough – the Starbucks Christmas menu is back, and I plan to drink my weight in toffee nut lattes before the year is through…

On Tuesday evening Sue took me to Ikea…the plan was to go mad and buy everything in sight that I could possibly find a use for, and though I didn’t end up with everything, I did get a fair amount. I spent the following morning assembling flat-packed furniture, which I was surprisingly adept at. I now have a bookcase and coffee table in the lounge, and a shelving unit in the bathroom. They haven’t collapsed yet, so s’all good.

Lisa came round in the afternoon to help us retrieve my books and writing-related things from storage, and helped me sort it afterwards. I thanked her with macadamia blondies. If in doubt, say it with CAKE.

Yesterday I ventured to Birmingham to enjoy coffee and wine with Naomi…I loved walking around the city, reacquainting myself. It feels like I’ve been away much longer than five months. I went into Waterstone’s and saw some of the old gang, which was nice. After we’d polished off our bottle of Jake’s Point, me ‘n Nomes tagged along to a pub quiz with them all, in which our team came fifth (not bad at all, some of the questions were impossible! I think there were eleven teams in total?). I also ate a massive filthy pizza, fuck yeahhhh.

Naomi enjoying her copy of Revolve. Not a staged photograph.

I stayed at Naomi’s afterwards, then caught the bus back to Wolves this morning. I’m unnecessarily shattered, working myself up for a trip to Asda which I will find overwhelming, but it’s vital. Need bananas!!

I’ll leave you with a new poem, which I’ll include a video reading of. This is something I plan to do more often in theory. Enjoy? I’m red once again, by the way.

In Servitude

I say I AM POET
but what if
I am poetry instead?

I am the words
and the meaning
and the reason
wrapped in ribbons,
curls of ignorance
in my house made of cardboard,
sensibility shredded and sodden.

I walk the path well-trodden,
my footsteps tiny rhythms,
little dents in time.
I am the poem
and I like it just fine,
ideas bright with
no measure of time,
infallible feeling of
YES, THIS IS MINE.
THIS SPACE,
THIS FREEDOM,
STEADY HANDS CRAFTING LINES.

I wrap myself in blankets
stitched from paper and ink,
my cousins, my brothers,
lovers sit thinking
that there’s none but the other,
no, nothing at all.

They are wrong.
There are words.
I am the poet, enthralled.

Why not kick back and kill two minutes of your day with another Naplew Productions video interview? In this one I talk bad poetry, necrophilia and the art of canine cuisine:

And before I go, let me hit you with some knowledge! The previous video interview has over 100 views (which is nothing to some, perhaps, but for me it’s SO EXCITING to think a person might willingly sit through seven minutes of me talking shit), this website of mine has almost reached 20,000 hits and the second draft of Doors sits pretty on my lap right now, all 81,159 words of it. Tomorrow I’m having it printed and bound. Round three can then commence.

I promise to be less awkward and a bit more eloquent next time. Maybe I’ll get drunk beforehand.

Hogwarts is in Florida. I went to Florida. I went to Hogwarts. For a short time, I was in Hogwarts.

Life = complete!

In Florida I stayed with Cassie, who I met many moons ago in the same community as Nicole. We’re all just one big happy family, y’hear? Whatever people say about “the perils of the internet” (you are as safe as you make yourself), I’ve made some really good friends through this community of girls – or should I say women, after all this time? – and hope I get to meet many more of them in the future. I know not all of them will let me sleep on their bedroom floor for a week, but hey. The pictures in this post will be a mixture of ones we both took.

I was dying of starvation upon reaching Orlando, due to me having been up since 5am and aside from the divine Caramel Knowledge I drank at the airport, I had consumed nothing. After meeting Cassie’s mum and brother Bailie, we went to eat at Chipotle, which is pretty much a Mexican version of Subway. I approve! We ran a couple of errands at the post office and Walmart, then went back to the apartment she shares with two guys, Derik and Elliot (hopefully their names are spelt correctly!), where I SLEPT LIKE THE DEAD.

Next day, Heaven. We went to Universal Studios, in particular the Islands of Adventure, and there began the greatest day of my existence thus far. If you live under a rock and don’t know what’s housed at Universal Orlando, then 1. Get out more and 2. You’re in for a real wizarding treat! All in good time, though. We saw the rest of the park and saved the best for last. Here I am with Cassie and her other brother, Jessie, before we left for the park:

It was a painfully hot day. I remember being in Barcelona in 2007 with Lisa, wandering around wanting to die, unable to find shade…it was a bit like that. I really don’t do well in heat! You can see in the photo above that I started out with a cardigan, but that was soon discarded. Before you get to the park you go through City Walk, which was a lot like the one in Hollywood:

Once I’d bought my ticket (Cassie has an annual pass) we headed into the park. We initially went straight for the Wizarding World of Harry Potter, but upon reaching the gate we were told to come back later due to overcrowding. Madness! It was Spring Break, so it definitely was busier than anticipated. We were given tickets telling us to come back at 5:50pm, meaning we had plenty of spare hours in which to explore the rest of the park.

We went on this indoor special effects experience about Poseidon (the picture above is of the theming by the queuing area). It reminded me of a similar thing at Disneyland/Universal Paris about Armaggedon. Lots of fire SFX and water! After that finished we got a couple of icy drinks so that we didn’t pass out, and snacks. I had myself another churro, why the hell not? We ended up going on The Hulk rollercoaster next, and oh, it was insane!

The queue was long but worth it! I’ve been on some pretty good rollercoasters at Alton Towers, Drayton Manor, Thorpe Park, etc., but I reckon The Hulk beats them all. It might even be as good as the Dragon Khan coaster in Barcelona! Another ride we went on was Spiderman 3D. I was really enjoying it until it broke down right before the climax! Bloody typical!

Nothin’ like a T-Rex to make you feel short:

We ate at a cafe, saw all of the souvenir shops and comic book theming, wondered what the hell Dippin’ Dots was when it was at home, and before long we found it was time to complete our pilgrimage to Hogsmeade (aka. Bethlehem, Mecca, the Promised Land, etc). After a few minutes of anxious traipsing, up ahead I saw the most wonderful sight:

PRAISE ROWLING!

THANK YOU, JK, FOR THIS PRECIOUS GIFT!

PRAISE BE TO DUMBLEDORE!

…You get the idea. From here on in I felt completely overwhelmed/amazed/tearful. I don’t care if you like HP or not, but please do understand what a magical experience this is for us fans. It’s the equivalent of a lifelong United fan finally seeing Old Trafford, along the lines of how I imagine Andy Murray would feel if he actually managed to win a Slam. The design, architecture, music, wizarding personnel, decorations, props…everything was perfect. If it wasn’t for the fact that it was so obscenely crowded with fellow tourists, I could have immersed myself completely and convinced myself it was real for a short time. I loved it. If you love HP, get yourself over there (although there is the attraction coming to London next year, if you can wait that long!).

I headed for the Owl Post where I bought Ministry of Magic stamps and sent out a few postcards:

The two of us then slipped into The Three Broomsticks for an authentic British pub lunch! I had potato leek soup with salad, whilst Cassie had Cornish pasties (“tastes like the earth!”). We both had frozen butterbeer, which is simply divine, but very, very sweet!

Two people on the table next to us were dressed in House robes. I wanted Slytherin robes quite badly, but they cost $99. I do regret not getting the replica Marauder’s Map; I suppose that’s as good excuse as any to go back soon!

After lunch, we ventured into Honeydukes/Zonko’s to shop for sweets. I bought a Chocolate Frog and a box of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans to take home to Sue and Jack. Honeydukes in particular looked lovely inside, and again, if not for the masses of people everywhere it would’ve been like stepping into the books.

Zonko’s was attached to Honeydukes, so we had a look around there as well (I resisted the Extendable Ears!). Back outside, we saw Dragon Challenge and, ever present in the background, the imposing structure that is Hogwarts. We headed there to have a tour of the castle (unfortunately you can’t take photos inside, but trust me, it is PERFECT – the moving portraits are flawless), and ended up accidentally skipping a 90-minute queue for the 3D ride! This was pretty much the best five minutes of my life, by the way, if we ignore the boarding process during which I almost lost a shoe. Unhelpful wizard is unhelpful!

Once we were finished inside the castle, we found the night was drawing in fast. Heading back to the carpark, we had a bit of a wait until we were picked up, and spent the time eating Doritos and messing about on the escalators. This was really a perfect day. I’m going to remember it for a very long time.

The next day was of a far more relaxed pace, as we had to recover from all that wizardly excitement. I expierenced my first Floridian bus trip as we went to Winter Park Village to see a film. We saw Beastly, which is a modern retelling of Beauty and the Beast; tame but tolerable. The lead actor was hot, at least. We then went to buy supplies for our St. Patrick’s Day food extravaganza! The first course was three cheese tortellini with pesto followed by these undeniably sexy cupcakes:

I won’t lie, I didn’t do much of the baking. Cassie did all the work, I merely chopped a few mints to sprinkle over the top of them! Aren’t they lovely, though? Her flatmates were big fans. Of course, it wouldn’t be genuine Sinéad Kent specialty shenanigans without a bit of nonsense:

The next day was spent at the local comic shop, where I learnt how to play Dungeons & Dragons. I could probably get into it with practice and a few of my own friends to play with; it reminded me of Hero Quest, which I’ve still got kickin’ around in a box somewhere. Afterwards we ate at Steak & Shake (natually, I had neither a steak or a shake, but a salad) before returning to the comic shop once more. I looked through all of the Dark Tower books and saw this amazing graffiti in the bathroom:

The space is reserved purely for visiting artists. I’m sure comic geeks would recognise a few names and appreciate it even more than I did! The next day involved another trip to the shop when I sat in on the Fangirls meeting. They were discussing a comic called The Pro, which I read beforehand so I’d know what they were on about, but didn’t really like. The discussion was okay, I didn’t contribute. Also managed not to stick my head in the box of giant cookie cake being dished out. I got that self-control malarkey down.

After the meeting, Cassie and I went with two of her friends, Caleigh and Eddie, to see another film. Beforehand I experienced my first taste of frozen yoghurt:

Seriously. This stuff is GOOD. I am going to campaign/spam Menchie’s until they open a branch in Birmingham. I would never want to leave! As for the film, it was called Red Riding Hood and is an absolute waste of time. My summary: “Twilight with a hood”. The best bit was when I left my sunglasses in the theatre and had to do a dramatic dash across the carpark, through the lobby, down the corridor, up into the seats, blindly fumbling until I found them. Good exercise. Oh, I also used my bookselling skillz on Cassie and got her to buy a few novels she needs in her life. You can take the girl out of the book shop, but…

In the evening Cassie’s boyfriend Charles took us to Denny’s for an “authentic” American dining experience. The free refills on coffee was much abused, but the food was basically a big ol’ plate of eggy grease. At the time it was tasty but much regretted hours later when I had stomach ache. We also went to the pictures once again, this time to see Battle: LA which I didn’t really watch (too sleepy). Hope it was good!

The night before I left Florida, we brewed some seriously strong coffee (and when I say strong, I mean it was one granule shy of giving me a heart attack), got a bit hyperactive, and took a stroll down the street to a Chilli’s restaurant. There we ordered tasty salads, and I had some delicious cheesecake for dessert. Cassie had a chocolate volcano. Needs no explanation.

As usual I showed a complete lack of discipline and ate too much, so I was grateful for the walk back to the apartment. Burn it off, baby! I resumed the sleep position at the foot of Cassie’s bed and woke the next morning to find circumstances had changed and the flight home was imminent! It was all over so quickly. Let me say thank you to Cassie for sharing her home, food, laughter and dangerous bus rides with me. I had the most fantastic time and I can’t wait for you to come to England so I can drag you around as you point at things, exclaiming loudly in your American way.

To see more photos from Florida please click the following link: (opens in new window)

FLORIDA 2011 – PHOTOLOG

The trip ends not with a whimper, but a bang (and coffee and doughnuts) and the thought that life can be good if you let it. I’m home now, taking it all in, putting off all of the scrapbooking I must do and trying not to think about it like it’s all over. What’s stopping me now from doing it all over again? I’ve got time at least for a few days in Paris, which I’m planning to take soon, and beyond that the summer promises more European adventure when I start my new job.

To anyone thinking of taking a trip, do it. Do it by yourself, find friends along the way. There is no way on earth you could regret it. I wouldn’t change a second of this experience, and though it didn’t all go according to plan, what time I spent in the places I reached was perfect. Just perfect. I would do it all again tomorrow. I hope it to do it all again before I’m dead.

Thank you. Thank you thank you thank you.

From overhead Texas looked vast, beautiful, almost empty. Up close it was just as fascinating. After a smooth flight over from California I landed safely in San Antonio, where I was met by my friend Nicole. We’ve known each other online through a commuinty for years now but this was the first time we’d met. We sat in her dad’s car for ten minutes whilst she figured out how to start it, and then we were off to the condo she shares with her boyfriend, Casey.

I had reached the Lonestar State.

Tired, jetlagged, well and truly out of it. The travel was starting to catch up with me by this point, but on we marched. My first day in San Antonio involved a relaxing walk around the Botanical Garden, where we almost crashed a wedding rehearsal and attracted a flock of geese, among other things.

She is such a sweetheart! In the evening I was treated to a homecooked meal of vegetarian lasagne, painstakingly prepared by Casey. I just want to go on record and say that this was the best lasagne in history. Thank you. It was followed up by a magnificent fruit salad served in a half of watermelon:

I went to bed full and satisfied. Can you really ask for more?

The next day, Nicole took me to see a local curiosity which I decided to call the Pinata House. It was a shop filled with pinatas, costumes, decorations and trinkets, all in aid of the annual fiesta! I’d never been anywhere so, well, lively.

We then headed downtown, where I saw The Alamo. If you don’t know your American history, read up and appreciate! Nicole summed it up best: “Basically, they all died.” You weren’t allowed to take photographs inside, so a snap of us outside will have to suffice:

We walked along the Riverwalk (so pretty!) and saw a market, various restaurants, and so forth. The town was busy getting ready for St. Patrick’s Day so there was lots of green floating around! We took a tour on a boat then sat down to a Mexican lunch. As we were eating, a St. Patrick’s Day parade went past. They also dyed the river green! Now that’s commitment to a cause.

There was a festival being held in a local park in the evening, so Nicole and I headed out to see what was happening. We got stuck in traffic on our way to a carpark but got there eventually! We went up the tower in the background:

The festival was called Luminaria (I don’t know what that means, care to ~illuminate~?). There was such a good atmosphere; everybody was in a great mood enjoying the food, art installments, dancers, live musicians, orchestra, EXTREME ICE SCULPTING, etc.

In the viewing tower we watched a 4D film about Texas (everything in this state is Texas-shaped, they’re so proud of their home. Cannot relate.), then went up to the observation deck to reach a simply stunning view of the area.

We got home very late and slept until a sensible hour. Always a good feeling! The three nights with Nicole passed far too quickly. On the next day I was leaving for Austin, from where I was catching my flight to Orlando. Can I thank Nicole and Casey for surrendering two of their rooms to me and my mess, and for being such wonderful hosts. I’m so grateful and really hope I get to see you again one day.

In Austin I stayed at the Lonestar Inn, which had been conveniently renamed EconoLodge (this caused much confusion when trying to find the place with satnav). It was very, very basic and right next to a freeway, so pretty noisy, but the room was spacious and it was enough for me to sleep in until my next flight. Whilst there I wrote up a poem I’d been working on in San Francisco and filmed myself reading it. It’ll be included in the new edition of Revolve, but for the impatient/curious, here is A DRAMATIC READING:

Please excuse my haggard wreck of a mug.

Texas was over too soon, for my liking. I want to go back. You’ll have noticed by now that that’s a running theme in these blogs! Many days ahead in sunny Florida awaited me. Three and a half hours spent on another plane got me where I needed to be.

To see more photos from Texas please click the following link: (opens in new window)

TEXAS 2011 – PHOTOLOG

Next stop: Florida.

The next destination was further up the coastl; a little placed called San Francisco. I cannot explain to you how this city made me feel. It’s one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been and was a wonderful, indescribable, eye-opening experience. My photographs and paragraphs don’t do it even one iota of justice, but here we are nonetheless.

My plane landed around 4:30pm. Standing in arrivals with my luggage, I realised I hadn’t planned how I was going to get to my hotel. The airport is south of the city centre, so I had a ways to go and taxis would prove expensive. I hopped on the local public transport (an efficient train system called BART which took me almost all the way, then a terrifying busride through the Tenderloin district to the street I was staying on) and reached the hotel just after six.

I stayed at The Monarch, which was inexpensive (probably due to its location…yikes!) but clean, comfortable with very helpful staff. As there wasn’t much of the day left I ordered Domino’s and rested in my room, figuring out some sort of plan for the next day. And oh, what a day it was.

I took a tour of the city with a group recommended by the hotel. I saw so many great things; Union Square, the city hall, fisherman’s wharf, China Town, Japanese tea garden, the cathedral, Golden Gate Bridge, the painted ladies, Twin Peaks, Castro district, Tenderloin district, the list goes on…

The weather wasn’t perfect but I didn’t mind. Pictures couldn’t do the place justice anyway; just go, please. Go and enjoy what a beautiful place it is.

After the tour finished I hopped on a ferry to Alcatraz and explored the island before thoroughly enjoying an audio tour of the cellhouse. Mind-blowing, I’m so very glad I saw it all.

On the ferry heading over to the prison:

This is what the inmates would have seen every day:

After I returned to mainland, I had a couple of hours to kill before transport arrived to take me back to my hotel. I enjoyed a walk along the open piers, listening to music and chatting with people. It was a really good time and I can’t think of many other occasions I’ve been as relaxed, as happy.

I slept well. I left my hotel room at eight o’ clock the next morning and headed out onto Geary Street, turning right and figuring I could walk until I found something I wanted to see. I walked across Union Square, saw all of the fancy shops before they opened, and found breakfast at a branch of The Coffee Bean.

Let me remember this breakfast forever…caramel latte and a fruit bar! Heaven.

One place I found whilst exploring was the city’s Westfield shopping centre. I have never seen anything so big in all my life! There were around eight floors, countless shops (including a Borders that was closing – I resisted the lovely reduced books because aiport restrictions meant I couldn’t carry many things home with me), an entire floor just for dining…I visited a marketplace there and got a vegetable wrap to eat, tired myself out walking around the damn place, found an exit and wandered the streets once more. I did buy a top from American Eagle, so I could say I did.

The night came quickly, I went to bed. And then the morning was there too soon, rushing me along, nudging me in the direction of an aeoplane once again. Get your boots on, boys, we’re goin’ to Texas.

To see more photos from San Francisco, please click the following link: (opens in new window)

SAN FRANCISCO 2011 – PHOTOLOG

Next stop: San Antonio.