The Politicians Husband. Poultons Review.

The Politicians Husband, BBC 2.

This three part drama proved to be a lot more controversial  than I initially assumed. The first episode gently introduced us to the world of Freya and Aiden Hoynes lives as the golden couple of Politics. Each character was established well, with some really lovely moments of touch. I often feel underwhelmed by the portrayal of human contact in Television and Film and the importance of it in relationships. However I truly felt they highlighted, not obviously, but subtly, the closeness of the couple through tiny moments be it their hands grazing one another of the simplicity of exchanging affectionate glances, without the need for a raunchy sex scene, although that was provided and I am certainly not complaining.

The raunchy scenes early on instantaneously allowed myself to place these 'wooden statues of power' , these politicians, outside the cold cage my judgement had banished them to and dragged them into the fiery  passionate sexual sphere , directly making them more relatable. That is exactly what I was already beginning to love about this drama, the humanisation of these figures in society who are far too often depicted as 'cold' with their only desire being the gain of power and status.

Like the sex, the pace was anything but slow, forcing the viewer to  keep up with every movement, name and headline featured.  There was reference to The Guardian, Twitter and other technological influences on politics that so few think to address, However like some other recent dramas (the finale of Black Mirror) I didn't feel like we were constantly bombarded with this, or that we were watching the screen on the screen as TPTH provided us with tiny tid bits allowing us to gain a slight insight into how the outer world perceived this fairly claustrophobic family based lifestyle.

By the end of the first episode I was thoroughly impressed by the subtly in double Oscar nominee Emily Watsons portrayal of 'Freya'. One thing that did grate was the overly childish characterization of their daughter (she must have been about 7, yet was still being picked up like a 3 year old) and her wooden acting didn't help matters either, but hey they're kids, they'll only learn!

The two later episodes felt less structured although I thought the opening scene of the second episode was truly GRIPPING tackling rape within marriage beautifully with a great soundscape and subtle character moments to show the effects.

OVERALL, WELL WORTH A WATCH!

I LOVE IDEASTAP!

IF YOU ARE A CREATIVE PERSON I COULDN'T ADVISE YOU MORE TO SIGN UP AT http://www.ideastap.com/ !


I'm currently at Bournemouth Universities media school of excellence reading Scriptwriting for Tv and Film. I'm an aspiring Producer and Scriptwriter with keen focus on writing for Television Drama. I have written a handful of short films for Television Production students as well as orchestrating my own Originally formatted Talent Show 'Busking' and Writing and Directing my own 10 minute play 'Cardboard Cushions'.

Ideastap excites me.

I feel the potential of this platform, to bind and inspire creative minds could be one of the most exciting things on the web, because that's what the world boils down to, behind these screens, behind huge budget films, tiny theatre plays ; it's people. All too often we presume others don't want to help, but they do, creativity is collaboration. Nothing can rival the feeling of being a part of a beautiful creative process. The sparks that ricochet from that original awkward and clunky idea, that transform and blossom, I feel it is this natural high through idea generation that will continue to propel and inspire me through this bizarre but extremely rewarding industry.

I have so many ideas that are bursting out of me, I still find it incredible that at the end of a 30 hour Writing stint, you would have created something that wasn't there before. Something that will float around an agents office or in cyberspace or maybe it will forever remain, happily, at the bottom draw of your cabinet. It doesn't matter where it ends up, it's the creating that is important. If there is one thing that has inspired me to continue with this crazy creative career path , it is the subtle impact our work could potentially have , whether it's raising awareness of an issue or making one person stop and reflect for a single moment.

I truly feel there is nothing more exhilarating than having others surround you during those magical times, I love like minded creative spirits!

Tame Impala.

Brixton Academy 30/10/12

Brixton academy boasts an atmospheric and alluring venue, with it’s roman themed décor we truly felt like we were outside on a warm Italian evening. The ceiling seemed never ending, providing the perfect echoes for Tame Impalas encapsulating electric tones and dream-like melodies. Fortunately the set didn’t stray from their golden ‘Innerspeaker’ days which were anything but Tame.

Support: 'The Amazing Band' which were what they stated.

 A sea of indie shades and psychedelic waves washed over us as we stood in awe of the band and the captivatingly simple motion graphics that seamlessly merged into the music. Kevin Parker mid-set honestly announced ‘We can’t believe how nice you’re being, we thought you guys would hate us’ which only added momentum to the already swaying crowd. 

Absolute highlight of the gig was an exclusive mash-up of ‘Half Glass Full of Wine’ they performed as their encore. Just incredible, I’ve been bopping to the beat ever since.

Bones Festes Bonita.

I recently spent five days in the absolutely beautiful city that is Barcelona , instantly propelled into my top three cities, behind Berlin and Budapest.

This was our first glimpse of the glorious city;

We were scheduled to stay in the seaside town of Santa Susanna but decided to stay in a Hostel (Lullaby) smack bang in the middle of the city on the first night as we were so captivated by the place. There was so much thought and detail behind everything, from shop window displays to hotel lobbies, we were absolutely mesmerised. Like everything seemed to be in Barca, the Hostel was effortlessly stylish and really well run. Shame there were many a brawl on the street outside of our room that kept us from retreating to the much needed land of nodd, resulting in the worst nights (lack of) sleep during the whole trip.


The next hazy sleep deprived day was spent mooching around the city, being totally awe-struck by Gaudis architecture ;

(oh my gaud it is incredible)

 picnicking outside the Cathedral and discovering some true gems like this beautiful vegan restaurant;

We hadn't actually checked how much the train to Santa Susanna was and had visions of forking of 40 euros plus, with a £100 budget for the 5 days we were worried to say the least. To our absolute relief it only cost 4.30 euros, for a 90 minute train ride! We arrived in Santa Susanna at about 9pm, we worried we would be to late (a day and a half) to check in. But that was the least of our worries.

Once we'd walked down the beach for about 20 minutes to find our Hotel we also found that is was boarded up with a sign reading 'HOTEL CLOSED', on closer inspection it had a list of all guests that were meant to stay there and contact details for another hotel they could stay in. Our names were not on the list.

As, you can tell, we were overjoyed with this news. We decided we'd chase up the Hotel the others guests had been allocated to, somehow made it in time for the last train to Callela where we were directed to Hotel Amaika.

The lights were off. We were faced with another sign, diverting us to 'Callela Palace' A 10 minute walk away, my friend who studies Tourism installed further fears as he was dubious of any Hotel that bore the name 'Palace'.

We planned our whole speech, demanding rooms even though we weren't on the list, demanding the train fare back towards the city, proving our rights with various documentation however when we arrived at the warmly inviting plush Palace the receptionist simply said 'Ohh we've been expecting you'.  Talk about anti-climax. We would've been happy with any old room, all we craved was some silent slumber but the Hotel was even better than the one we had originally booked with. It had an indoors pool, sauna , jacuzzi and every room had a balcony that backed out onto the most glorious view of the hills.

The next day was spent exploring the beach and hills, we found a beautiful ruin and watched the sunset . We could see all the way to Barcelona centre. It was magical.

Once we made it back to ground level we supplemented the local Tapas and drained the local Sangria supply.

We were warned by everyone of the pick pockets but, probably due to the fact we went in December, we didn't come into direct contact with any, as far as we know anyway (cue the moment we look at our bank statements and realise we had our bank cards stolen).

The last two days were spent getting lost in the city, stumbling upon the most beautiful restaurants and spending far too much money on good food whilst visiting Gaudis 'house of bones'.

One moment that I will never ever forget occurred on the last day. We were sitting on a park bench in the centre, having lengthy conversations, mainly about tiny details of the beautiful landscape we were surrounded by. Despite the deep converse, my attention kept wandering to an old beggar man who sat on a bench on the other side of the park, all he seemed to own was a can of lager but seemed oddly content.

Throughout the two-and-a-half hour conversation that took place on the bench I would glance over at the man, who for the whole time was fiddling with his can, and what appeared to be a knife, not wanting to provoke him in anyway or seem rude, I would quickly turn away from him but was still totally captivated.

Then he stood up and began walking over to us, slightly aggressively but with an optimistic bounce in his step. He then handed me the most beautifully crafted candle holder whilst saying 'Bones Festes Bonita' which means 'Happy Holiday Beautiful' in Spanish. Before I could properly say thank you (despite shouting 'Gracias, es Bonito' pretty loudly after him) he had bounced away, waving  backwards, towards us with a beaming smile.

The single thought that he had nothing materialistically yet bore such creative skills and gave away all that he had ,makes me feel warm and fuzzy. In that one moment, it felt like Christmas. 

I was petrified we wouldn't be allowed to bring it back into the country as we only had hand luggage and it was pretty damn sharp, luckily, by a few (probably illegal) means it's now sitting on my window ledge, a permanent reminder of the good in Humanity and my beautiful Barcelonian break!

Deactivation.

it's 04.43am, through hazy hungover eyes I relentlessly scroll down the news feed in hope of stumbling upon something of interest ,of worth, yet again I'm faced with superficial statuses that leave me feeling nothing but frustration and distain towards society and what we have all become. Drastic maybe but true for me nonetheless. Just think of all the knowledge, now I don't mean updates on people we don't really knows holidays, I mean real factual knowledge that will inspire us in ways that we never thought imaginable we could consume if we didn't spend so much time on facebook, absorbing often pointless, drivel by undereducated (myself included)of pretentious (myself included) teenagers.

When a sibling replies to an update of the day with ' I know already, I've seen it on facebook' I think that's when I really sat up and questioned the power of this website, because if we strip it back, that's what it is, just a website. I don't want to be constantly updated on my best friend’s lives let alone people that I've met once or sometimes not even at all! I would rather sit down face to face and talk, catch up like they used to, heck even as archaic as it may be even an email would be more enjoyable, something tailored to you.

Being a budding scriptwriter I really feel we have lost the capability to tell stories, and tell them well, whole experiences are summed up into statuses or captions.I'm going to challenge myself to have a facebook free summer, see how much I can read, learn and enjoy without hundreds of opinions clouding my sight. This will be a test for me, who actually wants to contact me, and who will really invest their time to tell me what they've been doing recently instead of expecting me to just peruse their life online.

You came on your own. That's how you'll leave.

But I didn't come on my own, although that's how I'll probably leave.

Today it's my Birthday, it seems so odd writing/saying that, I normally say our. Today is the first day my twin sister and I have ever had a Birthday apart.

Last night/this morning at 12:00am we turned 19, that time last year we were literally counting down every hour minute and second to finally become 'adults'. This time last year we were getting ready to have our first legal night out in Birmingham. This year  I spent the night in my halls in Bournemouth, eating pizza and watching films whilst my Twin spent the night in her halls in London. Although I had company the first thing I did was ring her.

The conversation started with excitement and  congratulations as we both dug out our birthday cards from family friends and members, deciphering handwriting and stereotypical envelope colours we managed to open the same cards at the same time. When it came to opening the card from our parents we both stopped talking, stopped reading and just started crying.

It was such an odd rush of pure sadness. I think we finally realised it would never really be the same. I'm not sure about her but I had a flood of flashbacks, every memorable birthday, big party, but mainly the wake up call. Our mum would bring us bacon buttys every year and watch as we opened all our cards and gifts. Eventually the poor soulds who had the pleasure of our company whilst we were wailing managed to calm us down.

Throughout the day we kept each other up to speed with our whereabouts she even skyped me from a noodle bar in Leicester Square. Technology is a live saver. The last call of the day through a crackling line consisted of her slurring 'Joo it's our birthday, I'm so drunk. I love you'.

I guess we have to realise that we're leading independent lives now, it's just so hard.

Ubuntu.

As much as I admire and endorse the usage of the Operatng System this post isn't about that, it's about the philosophy of 'Ubuntu' from which the OS stemmed.

A few nights ago I found myself trawling through the web in search of inspiration, starting on facebook (surprisingly). I've been really interested in the idealist views of the Zeitgeist Movement for a while now and they recently posted this video. The short documentary mainly revolves around the ideology of a resource based society, a society in which I whole heartily support.

Living in my ideal bubble money would be totally obliterated, we wouldn't need weapons, war or even oil (which is probably at the heart of most wars). WHY CAN'T WE ALL LIVE IN HARMONY.



Anyway, the video is where my naive ears first heard the word 'Ubuntu' I was instantly drawn to it and googled, wikied and youtubes it straight away. From inspirational speeches from Mandella and Bill Clinton to 'How To's' of the Operation System I sat through it all, gob smacked. I truly think for the first time I was resonating with something philosophical.

'Ubuntu' is a south African word which has been translated by hundreds of people and applied to hundreds of different situations but my favourite translation is;

 'I am what I am, because of who we all are'

For years now I have felt myself eventually coming to the conclusion that this sense of originality and individualism that we all (secretly or openly) desire is just a fascade. Whether we like it or not we all all influenced by hundreds of things in hundreds of different ways on a daily basis in this current society. Everyone wants to beat everyone, to have more money, to have the most 'desirable' features but eventually we we all wear out. The world will be populated  with egos, not humans. We all need to just stop. Zoom out of our 'hectic' and 'complicated' lives and realise how simple life can be, if only we would let it.

We don't need to stress over our favourite pair of jeans ripping, our beloved mug breaking, or gaining a few pounds or even loosing a couple of quid. Appreciate the time we spend talking at crazy hours of the morning, the times when we can't stop laughing and heck even the times when we are so bored we think our brains will just blackout. Even in those moments ,we are so lucky , we're given so much, to feel truly 'bored' (in which itself rattles my brain, is anyone truly ever 'bored') is almost offensive to those who don't have what we have.

 Anyway as much as the tangent is proving therapeutic to me , it's probably boring (or is it? ha) you. The feeling I got after a long night of delving deep into African philosophy and community spirit is the closest I think I've ever felt to having an epiphany.

Life is too short to fret, in fact you shorten it if you do. So smile more, laugh more and RELAX MORE.

Twindom.

Although my sister came down for a weekend in November half of my flatmates were either at home or had prior commitments so this Monday was the first time a handful (I have 17 flatmates) got to properly talk to her. I think my course mates who have only ever known me found it the strangest. One close friend kept looking at me and mouthing ' I can't do this' whilst reacting to my sisters laugh which is apprently identical.

I suppose we've never been exposed to anything quite like it, our entire lives have been spent with people being totally aware that we are twins (partially because we used to spend every waking moment together) so this is all a bit new. I can't imagine how bizzare it must be for one of my friends to meet Abi for the first time. When I try and think about how I would feel if I were in their position I actually feel uncomfortable.

Boyfriends is a new one too. I met my sisters boyfriend for the first time at Xmas, as she met him at Uni. He didn't cope very well, he found it very hard to not compare our every word, smile or intonation, he is adament that we are totally the same. I still don't think he has gotten his head round the idea, almsot 2 months on!

Uni-belivable.

The past 24 hours have been everything I wanted out of Uni. You'd naturally assuming milk cider and mosh pits wouldn't mix well but last night was one of the best nights in Bournemouth.Surrounded by flat mates and coursemates, I wouldn't wanna be anywhere else other than the middle of a sweaty mosh pit on a Tuesday night.

This morning was spent drawing naked men for a free 'life drawing' class and this afternoon was spent devising and writing comedy sketches in the form of 5 second films in the bar on campus. I love Uni so so much.

Why 2011 has definitely been the best year of my entire life;

   Stopped sucking my thumb

  Passed my driving test ( 3 weeks before my sister may I add)

 Became an 'adult' in age.

         
                                                    EMMA AND PETE GOT MARRIED!

                                                   

                                                       Survived A-levels!(only just)

                                                Spent four weeks travelling Europe.

                                                           Soundwave Festival Croatia.

                                    Had my first proper proper job as a playscheme worker.

                                                 Got into Bournemouth University!
                                                       End of the Road Festival.

                                            Bought Mooshka my beloved dutch bike.

                                                         Moved to Bournemouth!

                                                             Granny got a boyf!

                                          Voulenteered at British Heart Foundation.

                                         Hitch Hiked to France and back for charity.

                                              Co-wrote and Co-directed my own play!

    Started sucking my thumb again (this is not a good thing) ah well at least lent is around the corner.

Although it'll be a challenge I like to think 2012 will be even better. Thank you to everyone who contributed to the most unbelivable year of my life ; I wouldn't change anything.

Routeen!

After 4 months of living on my own (well with 17 other flatmates, but independently nonetheless) coming back home was one of the most bizarre things I have ever experienced. From having my own room and life to being chucked back into a shared room with my twin sister and having to share EVERYTHING, it all feels very odd indeed.Adapting to the sudden influx of fruit and veg and being fed proper food wasn't hard at all, feeling the strains of parental control however has taken some more getting used to. From minuscule responsibilities  of walking the dog, to having to justify my spending habits (I really wish I didn't have my bank statement sent home!) , I've seamlessly slipped back into driving and my thumb has slowly slipped back into my mouth!

THUMB RELAPSE;NOT GOOD.

The initial yearnings of a long bath, dishwasher and endless access to wireless Internet soon wore off, especially my dreams of not having to wash up for 12 days , due to the fact our dishwasher is broken and won't be repaired until after Xmas! disaster. Once all the easy food in the fridge and easy viewing on the TV that my parents had recorded  had been consumed ,despite having the starting of a pot-belly, A strange feeling of emptiness washed over me in the bath (pun intended). There's not enough to do here but almost too much to occupy me, I find myself aimlessly logging in to facebook for hours, just to play catch up with my flatmates who are dotted about the country, enjoying their other lives. I'm finding it very hard to separate my student life and my family life.

Although I've managed to catch up with a lot of my nearest and dearest including all my neices and nephews, eaten extremly well and slept even better, there is a massive part of me which is itching to get back to Bournemouth ASAP! I have a whole new life down there, everyone knows me as me, a fully formed arcticle (which in itself is debatable) whereas here I feel as everyone knows my past , what I used to be, but not who I want to be. It all gets very complicated and confusing which represents my current state of mind perfectly. Before Uni everyone tells you of all the great times you'll have both at Home and there but no-one warns you of this feeling of dis-jointment and bewildreness.

Hometime already.

After spending the morning on the beach with my flatmates family and NEW PUPPY I've just finished packing to go home for Xmas.  Two days ago we had our fake Christmas with the flat, spread amongst 4 kitchens, we fed 14 people with 3 chickens and all the trimmings, to say we were stressed was an understatement. We played wink murder, yes, at the dinner table and exchanged our secret Santa gifts. It was such a lovely evening which was finished off with mince pies and Alladin.

Part of me is yearning for good food, good sleep and a good rest but another part of me wants to keep up this momentum. It'll be the first time alot of us have been separated for longer than 4 days, which is weird. At Uni you're worried that you'll fail to keep up with people from back home but now we'll have to consider keeping up with our Uni friends just as much. I'm sure it'll be fine.

I AM ALIVE!

Just need to write something to let everyone know I'm still alive, I want to blog so badly but have literally been so busy. From writing and directing my own play to trying to learn German aswell as completing coursework its all been a bit hectic. But I am alive, malnurished but alive.

Here are some photos of what I live a minute walk from literally;

Freshening up!

It's 3am in the morning when I'm writing this, it's finally quite enough. To give you a rough idea of my living conditions and basic quality of life ;my halls were once a 10 storey car park which now has a night club at the bottom of it and it opposite a homeless shelter. Despite all these tiny details, it is home and will be for the next year. For the first time in 10 days I finally feel relaxed enough to write something. I've just had my first full week of being a university fresher and can honestly say I have never met so many amazing, inspiring and insightful people in such a short space of time, it is insane! I have contracted 'freshers flu' (I basically feel like poo warmed up) by lack of sleep and lack of decent food (not to mentioned a steep increase in alchohol intake). University is a bizarre but brilliant place, I'll try and describe my first week as well as I can.

The journey down to Bournemouth was intended to take 3.5 hours but ended up being 5.3 hours as someone had pre-set the sat nav to avoid all main roads, taking us on the longest ,wettest, most pointless route imaginable. Once we arrived at my university halls  we cracked the car boot open, just as the heavens opened. Due to the downpour and possible downpour from my mothers eyes I shooed the parents as soon as I had everything in my room and had used their help enough. They left me £5 to get a proper full English breakfast before the starvation commenced.( I wouldn't dream of spending a fiver on one meal now!)  Once in my surprisingly spacious new room I began to unpack whilst setting up my iPod docks. It was so strange how conscious I was of what music I was playing due to first impressions, I think I spent more time sifting through 'shuffle' to find an appropriate unpacking and meeting song than I did actually unpacking! ridiculous! I went around knocking on my new flatmates doors (as daunting as anything!) and grabbed two of them and went to the shops.Eventually corridors filled as much the parents eyes. A question that soon became the most asked question ever of 'what're you studying' was our first topic of discussion ,if ever there is a pub quiz night, my flat would win, we have it all from biological sciences to computer animation. Everyone is so friendly,  we've already started planning weekly meals and film nights (we'll see how long our budget and film collections last).

On the first night 'I have never'(a drinking game) got us all suitably sloshed , finding out some hilarious stories along the way (one girl broke her boyfriends nose accidentally whilst having sex). Fully tipsy and ready to socialise we headed to what is now our regular, the Old Fire Station, which is literally an old fire station renovated into a pretty amazing club. The next two days consisted of drunken divulging in drinking games, eating absolute rubbish and being totally sleep deprived. By the third day we were all physically and mentally drained so headed to Lidl to stock up on some much needed fruit and veg!

The second night was 'Back2school' at the Old Fire Station but once we saw the que to get in we decided to go elsewhere. We found a club called Lava , £1 entry and all drinks (including the essential yagerbombs) were £1.20 ; heaven. I met a fellow scriptwriter in the smoking area after he'd banged his head on the wall, he claims this never happened but I blame the concussion. The club soon turned into a sauna and we craved  cold air so headed down to the beach.It was 2am on a monday night and was the first time that I had seen the beach since I had arrived, naturally I ran as fast as I could into the icy waters, luckily I couldn't feel it as I was conveniently numbed by this point.

The next day were spent nursing my hangover and feeding my hunger, we had a quite night out at the Acoustic Fayre and saw some brilliant live music at The Old Fire Station. A personal highlight was the last act called 'Stanners' who sang Jamie.T covers, but had been given free beer the entire evening resulting in him forgetting the majority of the lyrics and turning to the audience for guidance.

The days that followed were spent sunning overselves on the surprisingly scorching shores as the heat wave began. We were in heaven! Our clothes were full of sand and our bellys were full of Harry Ramsdens fish'n'chips! One of my favourite and most poignant time I had was actually spent alone. I went for a bike ride down the seafront which gave me the opportunity to actually soak up what was happening without feeling hungover or distracted in anyway. The sun was beating and my face was beaming, I felt so so happy and privileged to be living in such a beautiful place.

To continue the beach themed day nicely we went to the 'Beach Party' at the Old Fire Station, I'd love to go into excessive detail about it but the truth is, I can barely remember what happened after we got into the que. I do however distinctly remember the sheer ,excruciating agony of receiving glowstick juice(this is not an innuendo) to the eye ball! The strange thing is when I went to the toilet to extract the scream evoking liquid I bumped into my flatmate who was already rinsing her reddened eye after being put through the same hell moments earlier. Like ,well everything in this snap happy life this turned into a kodak moment.

I hope you enjoy our pained faces as much as we did the morning after!

The night ended with an hour conversation in a chippy about films. Something that has been a continual conversation focus since I met other scriptwriters. I ended up inviting four people back for a sleepover (bearing in mind I'd known them 3 days top) , it's strange how quickly bonds form in such an intense environment though! We took all the cushions off the chairs in my living room and made a bed the size of the floor. The night was spent giggling until we slept. The laughter continued into the next day as we were given a break with 'Comedy Nation' at the Old Fire Station, it was absolutely hilarious.

My idea of freshers was wreckless drinking, drunken regrets and lots of sick but I hadn't encountered any of these things (okay maybe my drinkign was a little wreckless) but we were so tame! We spent the first Friday shopping for our first Sunday roast and beach bbq. We each contributed £5 and managed to buy enough food (including stuffing and parsnips) for the roast and two bbqs that followed! Our Friday night was even more wild as we stayed in baking cakes with our Romanian flatmate who is possibly the nicest boy I have ever met! If that wasn't crazy enough to feed our adreneline cravings we topped the night off with 'Bridesmaids' which was surprisingly less chick flicky and more crude than I ever imagined!



After living off bread and butter for a week, these badboys were heavenly!

Saturday was spent walking to the campus, soaking up some sun then winding down with a beach bbq. My flatmates boyfriend provided the bbq and the insanely loud sound system and the night was just beautiful. After filling out stomachs with steak, burgers and sausages, playing a bit of frisbee,dancing round in the sand and singing some disney classics , we went home (when you get to the point of singing disney classics it's usually home time).

Once we'd changed out of our smokey and sandy clothes we went to our favourite bar, Inferno, where you can get a drink and play pretty much any board game you want, for diddly squit! The games were childish and the night was still young. So a few of us headed out in search of 'sound circus' , a heavy metal rock bar. After having yager bomb pitchers and far too much sambuca we couldn't believe our ears when they stopped the music in aid of an annual award ceremony! It was, and still is one of the most bizarre things I have ever witnessed. To start with the host, intentionally or not, resembled dracula an unholy amount and the recipients were crayolas! There was also an award for best pole dancer which was basically an excuse for the host to get far too excited. We were given party poppers to pull and really did feel like an odd, gothic, slightly incestual family.

After Saturday nights shinnanigans Sunday didn't start til about 3pm. With a Sunday Roast to cook by 5pm the pressure was on we only had 2/3 ovens working aswell! We had two hours to cook two chickens , carrots, potatoes,parsnips,stuffing and gravy not to mention homemade yorkshire puds! Three of us did most of the cooking, between two kitchens, just to remind you though,our kitchens have no windows and a vent that you can barely call an extractor fan, oh and we have to keep the kitchen doors shut to prevent setting of the fire alarm. All in all our kitchens were roasting more than the chickens!  40 minutes into the cooking, the fire alarm sounded. Turning off all of our cookers we ran down the stairs, leaving potatoes and carrots still on hot hobs our timing was thrown right out of the window! We joked that we caused the fire, until the joke died along with a part of me as I saw smoke coming out of my bedroom.

After 20 minutes of worrying, the building was given the all clear, except we could all still definitely see smoke coming out of my bedroom. Once we were allowed back in the building I paced it up the 7 flights of stairs to check on my room, it was fine. I looked out the window with such relief as I realised the vent from the extractor fans is placed just above my window. Drama over, we got back to our roast. 2 hours later than expected but still highly appreciated our first ever flat roast was ready! Having small kitchens the sweat the food out of you before you even tuck in forced us to eat our dinner on the floor of the living room.

We finished our beautiful beach weekend off with a film, five minutes into it however I was flat out, the week full of new faces and new places had taken its toll and I just couldn't keep my eyes open.

Freshers week was unbelivable, luckily that was just the first week and we had another whole week of freshers to go!!

European adventures: Wroclaw (Poland!)

In Wroclaw in Wroclaw, it's raining in Wroclaw!

The train journey was 6 hours and probably the smoothest yet, no thunder storms, no directional errors and I slept for 4 of the hours so it went pretty quickly indeed! On the train on the way to a new location I'd make a habit of whipping out my electronic translator ( a family friend bought it for me so I was determined to get some use out of it!) I'd teach myself and attempt to teach the others basic phrases like please and thank you. 'Jimcoya' , how you say it ,not spell it ,was thank you in Polish , I can't get it out of my head,whilst out there however I could not pronounce it at all! I made a habit of declaring my feelings of a country pretty early on. Annoucning ' I LOVE POLAND!' pretty much as soon as we crossed the border was maybe a little bit rash.

We arrived in Wroclaws temporary train station ( rubble,falling ceilings, paper walls) with no water, no food, no Polish money and no idea where we were in relation to the centre or more importantly our hostel! We walked through what appeared to be the slums of Poland, the entire time I was absorbing the new scenery I was dreading our two nights there! The slums soon turned into streets and streets turned into a beautiful square, bearing a much needed cash machine. We took out what we thought was enough money however when changing currency and exchange rates so much it was hard to keep track of what we were actually spending! Cash in had we headed to the first shop we saw, stocked up on crisps chocolate and supposedly,water. I was so dehydrated. The taste of carbonated water was the last thing I needed ,I was thoroughly gutted, it even said it in English on the bottle! The others found it mildly amusing, much to my dismay. Through asking many non-English-speaking Poles we eventually (after 3 hours of lugging our bags around, in the sweltering heat) found the 'Moon Hostel'.

Our backs were dripping with sweat, we were utterly exhausted after having to climb 3 floors of steps (later realising there was a lift), Eds feet were swollen and we were all sickening. John had been ill from day one and we had all slowly contracted it, morphing from your average, bearable cold into sneezing fits,headaches and phlegmy chests! Drained but still determined to get a fresh taste of Poland we went to the square, which we had earlier passed but had been too exhausted to appreciate. After walking around the entire block in search of a suitable place to eat we finally settled for an Italian, how very Polish!

After our meal we roamed the secret streets of Wroclaw, passing courtyards brimming with people and beer, lit up by candle light. In that moment of peering in through the iron gate I realised that Poland was nothing like I'd thought it would have been. Firstly, I was expecting it to be cold, I even packed jumped and jeans especially for this leg of the journey, secondly I thought it would be fairly expensive but it was beyond cheap! We managed to get two hefty jugs of authentic Polish beer for about £5, squeezing about 3 glasses out of it each, calculating as about 41p per pint! Beer goggles donned we walked back, batting about the idea of getting tattoos. Thankfully we dismissed the idea, however hilarious it may have been.

Our one and only full day in Wroclaw was set to be a corker. The weather was scorching and our spirits were high, despite our drinking antics the night before. We had one of our longest lie ins of the whole trip (until 10am) however we managed to do so much with the day. We had no plans, we rarely did but simply explored until we found something of worth to do. We walked through the town, through parks and beside the river, eventually stumbling across the fairly famous 'Panorama'. A 360 degree painting with 3D elements, we booked tickets for an hours time and filled the wait with blueberries in the park. We managed to keep ourselves entertained for quite sometime by simply seeing who could throw a blueberry the highest, catching in it their mouth. Leaving a mound of squished blueberries behind us, the ones that never made it, we walked over the hill to the Panorama.

There was an English commentary that I found very interesting although after 20 minutes of listening to the same man, talk about the same painting, we began to bore. Energy fully zapped we needed some grub. We saw a boat cafe with a jetty and decided it was perfect. It not only looked great, but the food smelt great, we ate pork straight from the barbecue with complimentary gherkins, bread and mustard. Probably the most Polish meal we had the entire time. On the jetty we saw people canoeing down the river and after letting our food settle, decided to join them. We entered the non-English-speaking boat house and managed to explain what we wanted, through hand gestures and familiar phrases. To hire a canoe for an hour was something silly like £3, we spent 45 minutes travelling in one direction at a leisurely pace then spent the last 15 minutes, having realised the time, going as quickly as our little arms would take us back to the boat house. When we returned the spectators and boat owners were laughing at our flustered states and typically touristy time keeping.

We already felt we had filled the day with fun but the best part was yet to come. We caught a tram to the not very Polish 'Japanese Botanical Gardens' and wandered into a massive fountain with synchronised music. Straight away we were blown away by the beauty of the place, I still couldn't believe we were in Poland and the sun was that strong! We hadn't even reached the proper gardens but one we did, we knew. There were ornate bridges, coy carp and symbolic statues, had you have been transported there, not knowing where you were you would genuinely believe you were in Japan. After a few hours sunbathing on a jetty and watching an entire synchronised fountain performance we headed back to the hostel.

When we went out on the evening we were greeted by a huge stage and an even bigger crowd, full of football fans. It turned out that Wroclaws football club had won some cup (clearly not a footy fan) and all the players had come to the city to see their fans. We were kind of annoyed,intrigued ,but annoyed. The beauty of the square at night time was ruined by dramatic X-factor esque music (which was repeated for every player) and strobe lights. We ate quickly then went to find a bridge that we'd passed the day before. We found the bridge and much much more, the bridge was full with locks (with lovers names on) but once we crossed the bridge we heard the all to familiar sound of an acoustic guitar. Following live music, as we found ourselves doing alot, we reached a small band of boys, one on guitar, one on Cello and one singing. It was magical, as was the majority of our time in Poland.

I say majority as the travel day that followed was one of the worst.

We woke up at 7:30am in order to check out and leave plenty of for getting lost. We asked the receptionist at the 'Moon Hostel' which tram to get to the train station, which she confirmed was the number 17, a fairly frequent tram. Naturally, as soon as we caught one glimpse of a '17', suitably placed on the front of a tram, we ran for it. Running , I do not mind, but running with 15kg of bag on my back is not fun at all. Puffing and panting we only just made it onto the busy tram. Once settled  in the fact we were going to make our train to Prague we began trying to relax but a rather rough polish family had made us their sole source of entertainment for the journey. They sniggered at us , clearly analysing our stereotypical 'tourist' appearance. However they may have realised that we were infact going the wrong way on the tram, forty minutes before we did. As soon as rows of shops turned into rows of crops and the number of bus stops and people dwindled, we began to get worried. We looked around the tram in hope for someone who spoke english. I noticed that there was a woman behind us reading an english book and asked her the question we had all been replaying quitely for the past half an hour ' are we going in the direction of the train station' she needn't have replied as her face confirmed our doubts, we had been travelling the wrong way for forty minutes, with 8 minutes to go until our only train left the station.
Thanking the lady profusely we got off at the soonest stop and ran across the road to catch it the other way. We had given up on the idea that we were actually going to make it to Prague that day. We got off the tram with no idea which direction the train station was, it even began to rain. Perfect pathetic fallacy. We had truly given up so we sat down to eat on a wall. Eventually we made out signs that pointed us to the station and quickly got up with our last threads of hope , we made it across the road when Ed realised that he was no longer in possesion off our 'European train timetable', bascially our bible! The threads of hope had snapped, Ed traced our steps as well as he could in search of the book but returned with a glum face. We all slumped and sighed, wallowing in one of the lowest points of the whole trip. A cheeky grin sprung on Eds face just before he got to us, pulling his jacket up he revealed the book! A little bit of happiness was enough to encourage us to continue on our quest; find the train station. Once a basic direction was acquired through asking various locals we managed to find it, after 2 and a half hours, for what should have been a 30 minute tram journey we made it, to the temporary train station which had no reliable train timetable, no seats, no shops, nothing bar rubble and pipework.

John being the most spontaneous of the group toyed with the idea of going to Warsaw then catching a night train to Prague. We wern't having any of it, after the two hours we had been through all we wanted to do was get out of Poland. John came up with the plan of going back to Germany (Dresden) the to Prague from there. We all agreed it was the best idea depsite having to wait 4 hours on the cold concerete floor. Eventually we made it onto the correct platform, unaware that the train we wanted had been stationary for the past 30 minutes and was literally just about to depart! We ran as fast as we could and just about squeezed onto the packed carriage. We were forced to stand  for 40 excruitiating minutes, John even had a nose bleed which only added to the stress.

Once we finally made it to Dresden we treated ourselves to ice creams and sandwiches then boarded the 17:08 to 'Praha', so after 10 hours of waiting , standing, running and bleeding, we were finally on the correct train with the correct destination!

A Universe-away.from.the-city

Tomorrow I am leaving Birmingham and going to Bournemouth. I have just completely gutted my old room so that my brother can quickly re-inhabit it. I'm sure most people are leaving the majority of their possessions at home but it seems like I am taking everything and hardly leaving anything here. My dog has been moping about the entire day, she knows I'm going because the same thing happened with my sister last week, one minute boxes appeared in the hallway and the next minute she was gone (for what my dog must assume) for good. It's so hard as I can't actually tell her that we'll be back.

I currently feel like raiding the fridge and cupboards for healthy food to gorge on before my three year binge of rubbish food and too much alcohol commences. I just feel so unprepared. I can't wait to meet new people in one sense but in another I finally feel completely content with my friends and life at home. Change is good though. We'll all be back for Xmas before we know it and laugh at ourselves for making such a fuss about leaving. Just at the moment it has all become so real.

I have my possessions sporadically spread around the house due to all these room changes. When I return for holidays and weekends I'll have to share a room with my sister but I think we'd want to anyway. She has been away for a week now and it already feels like I've lost touch of what is happening in her life. It's all part of growing up I guess, not living in each others pockets all the time. Tonight I'm going to the Electric cinema in Birmingham to say goodbye to one of my favourite places for a while (I probably won't be able to afford to go to the cinema much when I come back), I'll tuck myself up in my old bed , in my old room, with my dog and try and get some sleep.

I am so nervous.

seperation.

This summer has been one of the best summers I have ever lived through, from Interrail (which I will eventually finish writing about) to many bike rides, to End of the Road festival( which I wanna write about) and some very memorable evenings out! The home town fun is nearly over (for a while) as close friends are slowly making their way to their new university's, and their new lives. It's all very exciting, naturally, but it does feel as if it's an end of an era.

Who will remain in close contact and who will drop off the face of the planet? all that is left to do is wait and see I suppose. I told myself last year when I saw older years writing status' about missing home 'what is the point in missing something, that will only make you have a crap time away and won't get you home any faster' but now as I'm allowing that thought to slip away I fear I may miss home and my sister more than anything.

We went to separate colleges but still came home every evening to each other. Since I returned from travelling we've slept in the same bed almost every night, despite having our own double beds, I think we're clinging on. Despite the initial strangeness of being apart I think university will do so much more for us than any usual siblings, because we've never truly been seen as individuals, even with our close friends it's 'I'm just with the twins' or 'I'm just at the twins house'. For years I have admittedly been robbing my sisters clothes, make up and jewelery so having to go out and buy essentials for myself I'm already starting to feel less dependent, don't really know how well I'll cope with an extremely reduced wardrobe though!!

Although it's all very scary at the moment, not knowing who we will meet or what will happen. I can honestly say I have never been so ready to leave home I think travelling triggered it. From being totally independent for a month, with money, food, safety, everything, returning home to my parents asking questions revolving around where I'd been or how much money I had spent (although it was my own 'hard earnt'(I worked on a play scheme, the best job you could possibly ask for) money). I'm just craving that independence again.

So my sister leaves tomorrow and I go the following week. Only time will tell.

European Adventures: Berlin.

Chillin' in Berlinin

We woke up at 6:30am to leave Amsterdam in order to get the 8:32 train to Berlin from Schipol, only we arrived at Schipol at 8:35 ,missing our train by a few minutes! We  had to wait 2 hours and 45 minutes for the next one. Mand and John passed the time by erratically playing snap causing me and the surrounding people around us to jump out of our skin every few minutes. Once we finally got on the train we managed to bag table seats for the four of us. Within the first few stops though we found ourselves hopping from seat to seat as we hadn't made reservations (we sound so unorganised!). Eventually we found seats which weren't reserved and settled down for what soon became one of the longest journeys of the entire trip. The train journey was meant to be 6 hours maximum but due to going the wrong way (I have no idea how that is possible on a train track) and then being caught in a thunder storm we ended up staying on the same train with limited food and water for a bum numbing 9 and a half hours!

Despite how hell-like that sounds I found it all enjoyable , having adopted the role of 'sloth' I managed to sleep through the majority of it anyway. Once we arrived at Berlin Hbf we got the S-Bahn to our hostel ,which turned out to be anything but the 'hostels' we had in mind! When we got off the S-Bahn storm clouds were brewing and I was adamant we would get caught in a downpour, even attempted to put my waterproof on, luckily it didn't rain. We found our Hostel really easily, well anything was better than the maze that was Amsterdam.We thought our Hostel in Amsterdam was alright until we were exposed to the wonders of 'Plus Berlin'. When we walked into the massive reception the wind was blowing and the 'reception' sign was swinging violently, I thought it was meant to swing until a member of staff shouted 'close the doors!' and the sign stopped swinging. Besides the disappointment of the simple sign the place was so cool, and spacious! Walking with our jaws on the floor we opened our room to discover a massive en-suite, bunk beds and cupboards,luxury! From our room you could see out into the courtyard which had ping pong tables and rabbits roaming about it. We genuinely thought it couldn't get better, until we saw the restaurant,bar,swimming pool and sauna! For 10 euros a night we truly couldn't believe it.

Although we'd been up since 6:30am we were determined to check out the city before our friends came the next day. We walked around,admiring the graffiti and the layers upon layers of posters until the sound of live music diverted our attention we responded accordingly, by following it. The sound lead us to what looked like a standard house, as we stepped through the door way an enthusiastic barman beckoned us into the room (which looked like a front room) where a Swedish band were playing. There were quirky paintings on the walls and candles everywhere, I'd found heaven. We had our first tastes of Berlin beer, suitably named 'Berliner' listened to the bands entire set,then decided to headed back to our PLUSh pad.

Our first morning in Berlin was an early one, due to a very high pitched, non-english speaking cleaner. If  I was ever worried about feeling disorientated when waking up in different countries every few days this wake up call only confirmed them. I completely forgot where I was, which country I was in and was totally unaware of who the hell was shouting 'House Keeping'. Ed was also in a total daze and found himself quizzing the house keeper as to what time it was. The cleaner replied in German then continued to bash about in the bathroom, forcing us all to heave ourselves out of the beds.

Our friends from home who were also visiting Berlin at the same time as us ,even staying in the same hostel  arrived at 'Plus' at about 10:30am.We headed straight out to explore our surroundings. We walked through backstreets, beer in hand, with John leading the way we ended up getting lost at least three times so decided to get the more reliable 'S-Bhan' to Alexander Platez. When we arrived hunger had set in and the smell and previous recommendation of the local 'Currywurst' stall was too much to ignore. We sat on some grass to experience our first proper 'country' dish whilst a few of the other lads, after all day and night travelling, had a little doze. The lads decided to head back to the hostel to check in properly and more importantly catch up on their sleep in order to hit the bars later on. The 'Interrailers', myself ,John,Mand and Ed decided to stick around and explore further. We walked down the longest road I have ever walked down to arrive at the Branden Berg gates .As soon as we arrived the 5 year olds inside us all surfaced and we found ourselves instantly drawn to Mickey Mouse , as a natural response we seized the opportunity for a photo. Only after the quick snap Mickey removed his glove and repeatedly pointed towards his dirty palm. We had no idea what to do, we had no change and couldn't speak German, I think we just walked away, with our once pristine image of Mickey thoroughly tarnished.

Ed outside the Reitzster

We walked through the gates and ended up at the Reitzster, where we sat for a while, the weather was beautiful as was the building.After lazing about we decided to walk back down the very long road to explore the 'Siegessaule' which we had earlier passed.The exploration consisted of climbing the thing! There must have been at least 200 steps, and after a days walking around the city we were thoroughly drained. It was completely worth it though as the views from the top were astonishing. We were able to see the park we'd walked through and how green the city actually was, we couldn't see a great deal for trees! After the grueling ascent and equally as fear evoking descent I was very happy to be back and ground level, once across the deathly roundabout that the Sigessaule sat on we went in search of a comfy seat and some refreshments.  Following signs for 'cafe' we ended up at a quaint 'English' Garden however, ironically, non of the waitresses actually knew English. After quenching our thirst with large coca colas , pulling putrid faces then taking ridiculous photos (something we made a habit of doing at every meal, or drink time) we caught the S-Bahn back to our Hostel.



The Siegessaule.

When we returned to the hostel our friends from home had already done all their basic shopping which consisted of, shots,amaretto and lots and lots of beer. With this concoction floating about the place and after a few dirty pints we were tipsy to say the least. We went on a Berlin bar crawl, starting from a bar that we didn't realise was in fact a gaybar, well that was until we noticed the pornographic paintings within.We then hopped from rock bars to beach bars and finally to a shisha bar where we got a true taste of Berlin and more importantly, mint tobacco. We decided to call it an early night and headed back to Plus at about 3am as we were going to the Zoo early the next morning.



After a few dirty pints, worse for wear.



The 'Zoological Gartens' were beautiful. From Bears to Sloths it had them all, a personal favourite, as always is watching the monkeys and their ahem, unusual, habits. Once we'd witnessed enough wildlife we headed back to our Hostel in search of the Berlin wall. We thought we'd have to get the S-Bahn but after asking a local man it turned out that the wall was a few hundred metres away from our hostel! We started at the East Side gallery, wrote our names on a tatty sticker, admired the graffiti then rested at a beach bar alongside the river.

When we returned from our cultural trip to the Berlin wall the lads were already in the pool.We had urgent washing to do as dirty clothes were festering in our bags, we put them in the washing machines then quickly donned our cozzies and soon followed (swim) suit. bad bad joke. The pool was freezing but the sauna was sweltering, still we appreciated it all as we remembered it was only costing us 10 euros a night! After we'd 'swam' (no swimming was actually done) we went to check our clothes and put them in the dryer in hope that they'd be dry for the nights outing. 35 minutes later our clothes were still soggy! We couldn't be bothered to hang around by putting them up to dry so I went out in damp socks, yum! The night started with more dirty pints in the lads room. One of our friends hadn't yet turned 18 so we were worried whether he would get in to Lidos 'Rock AG' night. It turned out that he got in fine whereas we were questioned for ID! With us all feeling happy that we all made it in the tone was set for the entire night. The music was brilliant especially in the silent disco. We all went in, dubious and doubting but within minutes we'd found a station we liked and began to belt it out, I'm sure you're not meant to actually sing a silent disco but we did nonetheless. Being the only British people in the small room at the time we dominated, probably because we were the only ones who actually knew the lyrics. I caught glimpses of the locals moving their headphones back as to hear the lyrics first hand from our mouths. Most of the night was spent there,loving every moment. The interaillers amongst us had to leave as we had to catch our train to Poland, leaving the Hostel at 7:30am. We thought the night couldn't get any better , until we walked back to the hostel, through an under passage ,to discover an amazing band playing a public gig! From that magical moment onwards, I started to realise just how much I loved Berlin.



Despite our early night (of 2am) the lads weren't content with our early departure, singing screaming and banging on our door, they let the whole of our corridor, the hostel and probably Berlin know that they had returned. We got them back in the morning by returning the favour by banging on their door, hoping they already had banging heads. We grabbed breakfast at the local bakery and walked to the train station feeling like we'd only just got off the train there! We witnessed creatures of the night crawling out from every crevice who had clearly been drinking and dancing the entire night. With that lasting image, we left Berlin, full of beer and freshly baked bread!

Bye Berlin, you certainly wern't the CurryWURST place we went!