shirleylawson

[shirleylawson]

LIFE BLOCKS

Life Blocks

Make each one count.

A theory of mine that has always been in my head and I thought I'd put it down on paper. It’s not for everyone of course, I just know it’s something I was doing without thinking my whole adult life, and then thought perhaps I’d benefit from writing it down. 

It is said that life is short, that's because we measure life in single years and normally people live to, say, 85ish?

In my life blocks, my lifetime is measured in blocks of 5 years, Life Blocks, one single block is 5 years, of which you have only 12. Sorry, it seems that life is even shorter now doesn't it... haha. 

It’s not all bad news though. If you take each block as an individual lifetime in which you can fulfil your goals, set your clock, then it can be more rewarding, for me anyway.

 Your first block is age 20-25 and therefore is block one… duh!. Second is 25-30 and therefore block two and so on and so on. Before 20 doesn’t count as a life block (although there is some grey areas between 18-20 but since it’s not a full 5 years, it can’t be used as a block for me) as this is the time you are learning and developing yourself in preparation for your first life block. Psychologists would argue that what happens in these pre block years will define who you are as an adult and I have no question that they are absolutely right, but, do we allow it to define us? Or do we move into our blocks with a clean sheet. I know I didn’t take childhood with me, I left home at 18 and left it all behind. But that’s a whole other topic of discussion, we’re talking about Life Blocks and they begin at 20 no matter how you are defined as I person previously, why? Because it's my theory and so I make the rules! Haha!

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The last block is 75-80. I’m not saying that after 80 you have no more life, you do, just not in blocks anymore. I just think it’s time to relax and stop putting effort into your blocks. Enjoy, reap the benefits of previous blocks and enjoy the simple things in life. Just don't fret over ticking the boxes anymore, you've done it, give yourself a pat on the back and enjoy the memories you created in that garden in the sun. And, most importantly never say you’ve been lucky, luck has nothing to do with it. You make your own luck and luck for me is not a word I ever use. Adventurous, brave,  courageous, audacious, (a bit reckless) resolute, kind, daring, confident, enterprising…there are a lot of words you can use instead of lucky. 

For each of your blocks to have a significant meaning and effect on your life you ideally would need to insert at least 3 of the criteria listed below. Some people will fill more and others will add their own, achieving as many as 10. I’m sure each person has levels of whats important to them and their priority. That’s why we’re all unique. In my own personal Life Block mind diary I have blocks which are full to the brim and overflowing and others a little more sparse, but the important thing is that you have the minimum amount because if you don’t, that is when you start to slide off the blocks and it’s difficult to climb back on. For me personally anyway. If I don’t have at least 5 in my block it sends me into a tail spin and has me obsessing over life wasted, years lost and asking myself ''what the hell did I do in these last five years?’’, did I make it count?

 MY main criteria are:

1. New life changing experience, could be having a baby, getting married, moving to another country, divorce (I don't recommend divorce, but it's still a block entry if it unfortunately happens to you, some would recommend one every Life Block, I need to look into that! :D ) And whilst we’re on relationships, don’t allow another person to define who you are. You are you, don’t try to change them, and don’t change for them either. If you don’t feel fulfilled and all your needs met in a relationship and you’ve tried for a whole block, leave! You will be happier on your own and seeing to your blocks. 

2. Learn a new skill, be creative, do something challenging something you thought you couldn't do, something you’re afraid of, start a new career but a completely different career to the one you had last life block, getting a promotion from last block does not count. That’s not to say you should be changing your job every five years. It’s a tick in a block that might not be ticked again for another 20 years!

3. Be happy and have fun at every opportunity which arises, don’t refuse invitations, be a doer. We don’t stop playing because we get old, we get old because we stop playing (I can’t take credit for that one but I can’t remember who said it) How do you expect to have memories if you don’t make them? Make plans, encourage others to be proactive and stick to an organised plan (this one is tricky for some people so they need a push) If you would love to go on holiday with just your girlfriends, don’t talk about it for 10 years, do it and make it happen, if someone doesn’t take the reins it just won’t happen, and they’ll thank you forever for creating that memory. This is only an example of course. But making things happen and not just talking about it is an important tick for me. 

4. See and really experience other countries and cultures in our amazing little planet (taking a package vacation to a sunny, tourist destination, does not count!) 

5. Feel fear, face it head on, conquer it. Even if you think it’s something simple like walking into a bar on your own and having a drink, if that’s something you fear…do it. It doesn’t have to be bungee jumping!

6. Having no regrets (especially ones carried into the next block!), or at least trying not to do things you feel you may regret later. REGRETS CANNOT BE CARRIED INTO YOUR NEXT BLOCK.

7. Not wasting days. Days become weeks, weeks become months and before you know it a year has gone. It’s not “just a year” it’s one fifth of your block and you’ve made no entries in your Life Block Diary!! Come on, you know it’ll end in tears Shirley :D

8. BE KIND. Try to help other people at every opportunity and always think about another persons perspective. When someone makes you angry don’t react immediately. Go away, sleep on it, don’t answer than email immediately, you know the answer the next day will be different don’t you? Be kind to all the earthlings, everyone and every being who shares our planet. I’m a vegan but i’m not a soap box vegan, you do you, just don’t buy into the diary industry and factory farming bullshit, because it is…BULLSHIT. Think about what you’re eating, don’t just chew on something without thinking about what it actually is you’re putting into your body and what were the consequences behind it for our other earthlings. Even just thinking and reading about this is a tick. 

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9. Make new friends, meet new people and keep the ones who make a difference to your life, who have a life changing effect on you, who make you learn from them and they learn from you. Who enhance your life and don’t bring you down. Don't throw away your old friends, they are part of your previous blocks, they're just not entries in your new blocks but they helped you tick a box in a previous block, didn't they? Don't forget that. You may have grown apart and they deserve your kindness and lovely memories.

10. Feel fulfilled, feel you have a purpose, feel a sense of achievement. Seems too general? This is your choice, you need to tick off the thing that makes you feel this, could be you've started to teach, started to paint, whatever, it's personal to you what makes you feel these things. If you look after children at home and it gives you a sense of purpose then that’s yours, it may not be for someone else, don’t judge what gives other people a sense of purpose.

Also, negative experiences can be included in your life blocks. They are just verification that you are alive after all. You have experienced these things, lived through them and come out the other side. It’s just important that you don’t carry the sadness into to the next block and you learn from them.

I DON’T REGRET THINGS I’VE DONE. They’re done. I can’t go back and undo them. I wish I hadn’t done them and had done it differently, but I can’t change it. All I can do is not repeat it. They were a learning experience and they actually help shape the person you become more and more, so don’t look on these as negatives, they’re actually positives. You can actually give good advice and be supportive to friends who need it if you’ve experienced a negative experience they might be facing. Theres another positive! 

And lastly, if you’re joining life blocks later, who cares, come on in, play catch up and enjoy the ride! 

Good luck and hope to see you along the way……………….don't forget to wave! :)

20-25 Block 1

25-30 Block 2

30-35 Block 3

35-40 Block 4

40-45 Block 5

45-50 Block 6

50-55 Block 7

55-60 Block 8

60-65 Block 9

65-70 Block 10

70-75 Block 11 

75-80 Block 12 

[shirleylawson]

PINK SHEEP!!!

When my girl was around 8, we were driving through a country road. There was sheep in a field and I parked the car to go lean on the fence and watch them with her. The reason I remember this, and what I said exactly is because we refer to it constantly... to this day.

“Look at those sheep, all the same, all fluffy and white wearing their sheepskin coats”, I said. “Imagine if one of those sheep was pink, look… that one over there”, pointing to one. “Imagine that one is bright pink, she’s wearing a straw hat with a massive daisy on it, and 4 different colours of wellington boots. Which sheep would you want to be?’’ My wee girl giggled and said she wanted to be "A Pink Sheep" and so... pink sheep was born to us.

Its not just about clothes, which she understood. Being yourself and not following the other sheep… in everything.

Which brings me to what I’m calling ''the ugly fashion'' atm. Big collars only ever seen on the Amish before or on Laura from Little House on the Prairie. Zupped up shower shoes, called Slidders, and once derided Birkenstocks with socks, the staple of Germans or women of a certain sexual orientation. Designers such as Phoebe Philo bedazzled them for $900! (btw I think they're great, so comfy, but not as fashion statements) But here’s the thing, designers are there to make sales. The masses now like sliders? Lets stick Gucci on the front and charge $300 a pop.

It's probably just me but I don't like seeing strong, fierce women dressed like 3 year old toddlers going to a birthday party in pretty ballooned frilly dress, puffed sleeves and Amish collars clutching their jellytots and smartie party bags. I feel the only thing missing is holding a balloon? And you know they’ll look back in 10 years and think, wtf was I thinking, we’ve all been there.

I first saw this ‘’ugly’’ change on the catwalks in 2018 and thought, get ready Zara and H&M. Of course we all know that the high street follows the designers (later but it gets there). And most of the time its just trends we’ve all seen before (age dependant), just revamped. Young designers recycle old trends, and I don’t blame them. It’s new to them. It’s as new as Bananarama tunes to the young. And then more established fashion houses get onboard, then the high street, then small independents source them out ethically in eco-friendly materials. And so it goes round and round till the new season catwalks again. I worked in the fashion industry for 20 years, probably why i’m such a sceptic. But, I do like a lot of whats pushed out each year to troll the masses, i just like my own version of it.

I have three rules. Comfort, Material (not much of an online shopper, I like to feel things) and I wear what I want. I love the return of fanny packs (bumbags to me) and love an orthopaedic style trainer, comfort and height, whats not to love?

There’s a fabulous quote from Meryl Steep in The Devil Wears Prada

[shirleylawson]

Five Days in Jordan

Just got back from a hectic 5 day trip to Jordan/Jerusalem/Petra. We’re calling it the “incidente” (accidents) trip due to the amount of mishaps

Mishaps in brief, one, Stefano left my new camera, case, equipment at the security control in Jordan when we arrived, remembering only when we got to our hotel half hour away. Could have coped with that if he had remembered it was the security gate, but all he could remember was, “I had it at some point!”. This was after he had gone back in the cabin of the aircraft as he’d left it in the overhead locker! Ok, first night lost, didn’t get there till 11pm and spent that time calling the airport to try and get it back. Seventy euro for taxi’s back and forth and 30 for the guys who found it and we’re 100 euro lighter and it’s 2 am. Only had one night in this 5 star haven of a hotel which was a real shame as it looked absolutely stunning, breakfast was good though. :)

Two, border control in Jordan to Palestine the next morning!!!!! What a joke! Three hours waiting to get in and 3 hours to get out the next day! The most unorganised establishment ever, no one knows anything. I quote, second security check, official in uniform, “ No, you can’t come through here with just a passport”, oh, i say, ok, what else do we need? “You need a ticket, one each, you need to buy four!”. Right where do we get them, and what are they for exactly? “I dunno!” What do you mean YOU don’t know! How are we supposed to buy them if YOU don’t even know!? The entire time at Palestine Border control was spent on conversations like this and “What’s your fathers name?” ehhhhhh William!“”, they asked what Stefano’s grandfathers name was, I thought, please don’t ask me that, I’d need to make one up, as I have no idea!

Third mishap, we’re back in Jordan, check in after a 5 hour drive (should have been 3 but we got lost, is that a mishap?) to our third hotel, luggage unloaded, porter waiting, reception can’t find our reservation, it’s 1am and we’re all tired, Stefano checks his emails, it’s not The Movenpick, it’s The Marriot (at this point, i have to add, this is not unusual behaviour of my darling husband, this is our daily life). Luggage back in car, another 10 miles.

Stefano, “How did I think it was The Movenpick, that’s weird, must be cause it begins with M, same as The Marriot?” Yeah, that’ll be it darling…

Four, we check out last hotel on our way to airport, I slip and fall down all the outside steps, ass and elbow surfing the whole way down. Hotel want to call a doctor, but we’re late and they just wanna cover their asses in case I sue them, which I should as white marble steps look very pretty outside your hotel but the shiny surface is perhaps not practical? Spend the journey back sitting on a bag of ice which eventually melts leaving the seat of my pants looking like I’ve done a massive pee in them at the airport, and the black and blue bruising which covers the entire right bum cheek, is now actually visible through the wet, cream linen fabric! Not forgetting arm bruised from wrist to elbow. My left hand is also painful, due to Paolo closing the electric window in the back when my hand was actually outside, that was whist I was sitting on the ice, does that count as a fifth?

Sixth, stopped by police on the way to airport, speeding ticket, they go back to their car to write it up and out get the two Italian guys, light their cigarretes and saunter over to the police car to have a “chat” with the officers. Elisa and I cringe from the car as there is a lot of back slapping, hand gestures and laughing. I can hear Paolo’s infamous saying of, “look my friend”. But, they came back one speeding ticket cancelled, god knows what was said, at that point i was rubbing my half broken hand and sitting on my bag of ice, i didn’t really care. Immediately after Paolo almost crashes our car as the car in front slams on his brakes at one of the million speed bumps every two minutes on the road, the wheels screech to a halt and there is an immediate smell of burning rubber. Stefano was snoring beside me, never stirred.

Seven, or is it eight, lost count as i don’t know which ones count anymore. Seems all is over, we get on the flight, nothing, we sleep for the entire flight, nothing, we disembark and wait in the bus at Dubai airport, no Stefano. I thought he was behind me, Elisa thought he was behind her, the bus is held up, the passengers are hot, sweaty and tired and getting annoyed, the pilot stands at the top of the stairs and shouts down to us, “there is a passenger still onboard, looking for his passport!” Everyone groans, we three look down and say nothing. He eventually gets on the bus and we try to pretend he’s not with us, but it doesn’t work, he still doesn’t have his passport and wants to tell us all about how he had it when he got onboard, how can he have lost it?. We get into the terminal, the cleaners go onboard and we wait. Guess what, it’s in the mag rack in front of his seat!!!  Now who would have thought it would be there?

Ok, mishaps included what a spectacular trip. There was indeed room at the inn for us in Jerusalem and it included luxuries i’m sure poor Mary and Joseph didn’t find down the road in Bethlehem. We walked the walk of Jesus’s path to calvary, we saw his burial place, we touched the actual stone he was placed on, ahemm, and then we watched as others weeped and wailed around it. Talking of weeping an wailing just a few steps up the road is the Jewish place of worship The Wailing Wall and Holy Synagogue. Those poor Jews really know how to punish themselves eh? No idea what they’d done but it must have been pretty bad, penance galore at that wall, and young kids too! Another few steps and it’s the muslim mosque crying out it’s evening prayers, everyone shoeless and crouched down on their prayer carpet. Religion a go-go in this town, not sure where i stood in all this weeping, wailing and worship, so i just stood in the middle and took photo’s!!!

A stroll through Jerusalem town at night, the new town is surprisingly beautiful and the has the most amazing little arts and crafts shops, Stefano is very happy that they were closed. Sat outside in a bar and watched the football, was offered some cannibis by the owner (middle east!!!???) and had some delicious pub grub, surprised at how the temperature is the same as Dubai, around 35 at night, but there is no humidity, so it’s very pleasant to sit outside. Back to Jordan and THAT border again in the morning!

Checked into yet another hotel in Jordan, (The Marriot, not The Movenpick remember?) and had a swim in the dead sea. I thought i knew what to expect with that sea, you know, you hear how you don’t need to do anything but lie there and the sea holds you up? It really is more incredible than i thought, the buoyancy even makes it difficult to turn onto your stomach and forget having a swim! It’s like lying in jelly, salty flavoured jelly. A good rub down in dead sea mud from head to toe, let it dry in the baking sun, wash it off in the salty jelly and your skin is a new! As soft as silk but smells like horse manure.

Where we went next was most definitely the highlight for me, even more than Petra. We went inside the canyons of Wadi Mujib near Dhiban. The most incredible place i have ever seen is also the lowest nature reserve in the world. We walked through canyons up to our waists in fresh flowing water with the canyons reaching 3,000 feet above us and only little slits of sky and sunlight searing through. Birds occasionally swoop down, breeds i have never seen before and probably won’t ever again. Nests the size of a sofa made of branches and sticks were planted high above in the crevices of the canyons, unfortunately i didn’t see the bird who belonged to these houses. We were the only four people there for some of the walk and it was more spiritual than any mosque, church or synagogue for me. It takes approximately 2 days to complete the walk of this particular canyon, and we did what we could in a few hours. It’s dangerous at times, and extremely taxing when you have to negotiate rocks and climbs which also have fast flowing water tearing down from them. A series of low waterfalls, each ending in a whirlpool which makes a great natural jacuzzi. Some climbs i stood beneath and looked up and said, sorry guys, I can’t do that, but in the end, after i saw them do it, I gave it a go, helped with ropes and some guys pushing from behind i managed and spurred on by Stefano’s words of encouragement and telling me how proud he was of me. Every time i got to the top, i would lay my hands on my knees, bent over, gasp for breath and say, “I’m posting this on my RA site when i get home”! Coming down was so much easier as you could lay down and body surf your way through the rocks and slide down the small waterfalls. Mishap number eight in fact could be Elisa’s completely black and blue ass from body surfing and hitting her bum off the rocks, I didn’t suffer from that at all, could have been the fact that I have inherited my mothers flat bum, looks like shit in jeans but how great for surfing it proved to be!

Petra, well what can I say about Petra that Karl Pilkington hasn’t already covered. It’s an incredible place, to think that people carved their homes, places of worship and burial tombs out of the actual mountains is too much for my little brain to comprehend. It is situated between the Red Sea and the Dead Sea and has been there since pre historic times. It is a completely carved city, carved out of the stone, hidden by towering sandstone mountains. Although uninhabited today, during ancient times, it was an important city, and was the main city of an ancient people called the Nabataens. I can’t go into the history of Petra, mainly because i don’t know it and it would take me a whole book to write and research it. I also can’t get my head around the dates of when the actual city was built. I read that until they settled at Petra, the Nabateans were largely nomadic but they founded Petra around the 6th century BC and ruled over it until AD 100! That’s just too old for me to understand, just as dounting as looking up at the stars, but how did these people manage to work so intricately on these monasteries and houses, what tools did they have? Unbelievable!!! Just believe me that it’s no wonder that it’s one of the seven wonders, and something you need, need, need to tick off in your bucket list. I sat on a mountain side in a small piece of shade to rest and wait for the others to come back as I couldn’t manage any further at some point, and was joined by a woman called Adi. She told me she worked here in the mountains selling the jewellery her mother makes. She is a Bedouin and has ten children, one of which was 16 year old Mohammed who had hired us the mules and donkeys half way up the 1,000 step trail. Good business man, he knew we would be exhausted by then, on saying that i did end up screaming at the top of my lungs to get off the donkey as it felt safer to walk after i had witnessed one tumble down, poor old thing was exhausted, thankfully he only had water on his back and not a person. He was fine, a little rest and water and a scolding to the bedouin from Stefano for not letting him rest and he was back to work. Adi lit a fire and made me tea, a herb taken from the bushes around, some sugar and some boiling water and it was delicious. We talked for half and hour or more, mainly in sign language and translation from Mohammed who’s English AND Italian was incredibly good considering he had only learnt it from tourists. She told me she was 40 years old which was astonishing, ten children and four grandchildren and the poor woman looked completely done, finished, exhausted. I was thinking back to my 40th birthday party, how i danced the night away, I felt young and vibrant and how our luck in life is only a question of where we are born.

I took 14 billion photo’s, which today i found difficult to choose my favourites. Hard to believe as i sit here and write this today, that yesterday I was in the canyons of Petra sharing tea and life stories with Adi.

So all in all a very successful trip, until next time my fellow adventurers. X

[shirleylawson]

Ten Days In Nepal...

Hard to believe it was only ten days. Hard to believe that ten days can have such an impact on you and make everything look completely different from now on. John warned us, he warned us it would be the most challenging thing we would ever do and the most rewarding, he said that no one visits Nepal without being affected by it and having it change their lives forever, but, being the sceptic that I am, I thought, ‘’yeah, yeah!’’.

A couple of months ago Lola Lopez, founder of Volunteer in Dubai, asked me if I would be interested in giving up my Membership Manager position and becoming Global Events Manager instead. She wanted VID (Volunteer in Dubai) to expand out of the UAE and become more international with events offered to volunteers and needed someone to run the pre-show and accompany volunteers on the locations. I was not hesitant. This is something I have always dreamt of doing and I jumped at the chance. Around the same time, John Mathews, founder of Children of the Mountain (COTM) was planning another trip out to Nepal to oversee the enormous task he’s undertaken of re building schools up in the mountains of the Himalaya’s in Tangdrang. Being a friend of Lola’s she asked if we could bring a group of our volunteers for our first International event and to cut a very long story short, I ended up in the Himalaya’s with 14 handpicked volunteers from VID. There were 30 of us in total, 15 from John’s team and 15 from ours and what a Motley crew we all were!

After a few weeks of stressing and planning, we eventually met at Dubai International Airport early on the morning of Thursday the 12th of April. Lola came to wave us off and after a few airport hitches, (Suzanne forgetting her passport and Abdul’s luggage being offloaded as he had to abandon his trip due to a family emergency), we were all seated and on our way to Kathmandu. The first night we arrived was the Nepalese new year, the year is 2069, but after we ate something we all went back to the hotel to sleep as exhaustion had set in, so no New Year celebrations for us. That night we stayed at  The Tibet Guest House, and I would guesstimate that it’s around a minus 2 star hotel. The beds were like bricks, there was sporadic electricity, filthy, smelly and gross and our toilet looked like something out of Train Spotting! Warm water was available, but I chose not to use the ‘’shower’’ on the first night as I was suspicious that I might come out filthier than when I went in. Little did I know that 9 days later, having returned from the mountain, I would be eternally grateful for the luxurious accommodation of The Tibet Guest House!

The buses arrived bright and early the next morning. Typical Nepalese buses that looked so quaint and cute but not so much after 10 hours on the Himalayan mountain roads! The 10 hour bus ride was hot, sticky and uncomfortable and a few opted to take slight relief by sitting on the roof or hanging out the front door. The ‘’roads’’ on the mountains were nothing more than single track dust roads with a 1,000 foot drop a few inches from the outside tyres. A few tears of fear were wept on the bus, a few offers of ‘’can I get out and walk please?’’ and a lot of very frightening turns and bumps. I was told that Ice Road Truckers filmed a few episodes on these very roads of the Himalayas for their extreme trucking programme (thanks Victoria for that little piece of information, and thanks for talking for 8 days solid about your love of trucks!!) It was on that bus that I learnt Namaste, the Nepalese way of greeting. As we passed through mountain villages the local people looked and pointed and smiled at the strange looking crew on our bus, and put their hands together in prayer and said the word Namaste. We quickly learned that waving and whooping was not the Nepalese way, and everyone adopted the Namaste greeting for the rest of the trip.

Exhausted, dirty, hungry and deflated we arrived to a pitch black field near a river that had been given up to around twenty small tents. In actual fact,  the location turned out to be idyllic, but due to the darkness we would need to wait till morning to see it. I’m sure I speak for everyone when I say that this was a low point of the trip. In the black of the night with only a torch for light, I tried to see where we would be sleeping for the next 4 nights and seeing the lack of washing or toilet facilities after that trip didn’t raise my spirits much. Sorry, there were toilets, there were dug out holes in the soft earth with a cover over them to be used by our thirty and the crew. I managed to use this one time on the first night and forever after, the smell was too atrocious to contemplate spending anytime in there. At 6am we were awoken after a restless night in our sleeping bags and greeted by a view of rolling mountains, a flowing, babbling river and scenery not unlike Scotland, except it was warm and sunny. In high spirits, we took the bus to our first school and was totally surprised to be greeted by the whole village, a welcoming party complete with music from the Panche Baaja, a set of 5 musical instruments that are played at auspicious occasions. There followed speeches, welcoming garlands, and blessings to each of us by placing a red powder on our foreheads. Some children performed traditional dances and I found it all a bit overwhelming as I’m sure everyone else did. We were being treated like Angelina and Brad here! We only came to paint schools and teach!. J In fact there were another 2 welcoming days just like these in the next few days as we moved to other villages to the other schools.

The next few days I can truthfully say were the most challenging but rewarding days of my entire life.Seeing poverty and filth like you cannot believe we stepped back 200 years in time. The school houses that were not rebuilt yet were nothing more than derelict brick shacks, with over 50 children packed into a room with around 6 bench desks. Dogs can come in to defecate in the room and the teachers carry on, in fact the children take a toilet break wherever they feel the need also. There was no black board……….. nothing. When John gets his hands on it will be unrecognisable. Rebuilt, restored, school supplies, uniforms and teachers trained up!

I can still see the faces of some of those kids clearly in my mind, I can still see their expressions. I wasn’t there to change their lives, but I think we did bring some hope to them. Someone was doing something. Someone cared.

I saw our people work hard, the boys repainted and cleaned and scrubbed the ‘’new’’ school and I saw two women, Suzanne and Amanda, clean the school toilets to make them usable. They looked like they hadn’t been cleaned in years and certainly smelt like it. These two women covered their faces and went in and scrubbed, truly inspirational and I for one certainly could not have done that! I was retching at the door watching them! The young new teachers were taught how to teach, shown how to use equipment and basically given more confidence. The kids played games with us, we showed them how to paint, some of them had never even seen simple water colour paints and showing them how to make a picture was something I will never forget, the look on their faces when something was created on the page. One day, as we waited for the bus home, Victoria and I found some hanging branches, the soft kind like in the tarzan movies. J We used it like a skipping rope, one at each end and showed the children how to skip. We watched this, grubby, filthy little boy try to jump as the rope came around and we counted out loud and eventually he got to 28! He looked so pleased with himself.

The VID gang were truly inspirational. In fact everyone was, all the team, as that’s what we became, a team of 30.. I have never been challenged so strongly and I’m sure I speak for everyone. Even if you’ve been camping before I’m sure there was at least water to wash or toilets, and when we came back every night in the dark we were filthy!!! By the fourth day the men set up a bamboo cover near the river and the women went down to wash. The water was brown and didn’t look too appealing especially when your feet sank into deep soft slimy mud when you waded out, but still we washed, and still we all laughed and felt so good after and joked about how a clean-up in a dirty river was so wonderful.

The bus ride home to Kathmandu took 12 hours instead 10 this time, go figure! The last day we had all to ourselves to sight see and John arranged a tour guide. We visited the crematorium in Pashupatinath!!!!! The Nepalese, are all mainly cremated and they are all mainly cremated in this holy ground. This has to have been the most disturbing thing I have ever witnessed and hope never to witness again. I sat down opposite the cremation site, and watched. For me, a westerner where death has virtually disappeared from public life, the openness and accessibility of this cremation site had a tremendous impact. Along the banks of the river on the opposite side were concrete platforms, around 20 i would guess, although I didn’t count. Each platform had a pile of wood, some burning in preparation, some not started yet and some with bodies. Families with young children were watching with me while a corpse, wrapped in a yellow cloth, was carried to one of the platforms. A few relatives were bidding their last farewells to the corpse, some flowers were tossed, after which it was lifted and carried on the pile of wooden blocks that had been constructed just before. This was surprisingly little ceremony surrounding the event, and when smoke started billowing out of the pile of wood, straw and human remains blew everywhere and I just knew I was breathing in the remains of at least one of the burning bodies. I thought as I sat on the banks of the Bagmati, that this was surely the most surreal situation I would ever encounter. Tourists are allowed to stand and watch and take photos, which seemed strange at best, but the river Bagmati was a sludgy, disease infested swamp and this is their holy water?!!! It was no more than a cess pit to dispose of the cremated bodies after they had been publicly burned. Cows stood in the water and monkeys jumped around the rocks eating………… god knows what! Young naked boys were in the river. They were searching for any money that may have been left on the bodies. They had their heads under the water and ducked, I felt physically sick. Earlier, at the beginning of the river, before we had even seen the crematorium, some of us had joked about how much money we would need to swim across the river and most said not even a million would tempt us and that even if we did it we wouldn’t survive the infestation of bacteria you would pick up. I watched in sadness as a family prepared their loved one in yellow silks and garlands of orange flowers and watched in horror as the body was placed on the burning wood and the head could be seen to begin to leave the body. A black crispy round ball dandled from the edge of the fire………………….time to leave.

Our last evening was spent eating drinking and being merry (well cheese sandwiches and the worse wine ever tasted merry). I want to say that this has been the most incredible experience of my entire life and I had become an old sceptic and thought I had seen it all. Having travelled a lot, lived in Rome for 10 years then moved to the Middle East, seen all our continents and spend most of my life experiencing new things, I truly believed I couldn’t ever be awe struck by a country and its people again…………..I was very, very wrong.

I didn’t bring my camera, sometimes I regretted it but mostly i was glad, and after John sadly lost his I certainly was. I have a few photo’s from my phone.

Once again thank you to all who helped make this the trip it was and be so productive, all the 30 yaks and my yaks who were:

Rackyak

Transyak

Myyak

Duckyak

Prozacyak

Zorroyak

Gangayak

Princessyak

Gayak

Yankyak

Cheesyak

Tastyak

Yakyak

Machoyak

Slopyak

P.S. I went back and did it all again the next year :)

[shirleylawson]

R&R in Scotland

May 2014

I am telling you! You could not make this shit up!!!!!!!!!!!!

I am convinced I am jinxed. Someone is stabbing a wee voodoo doll with my face on it, and the bastard is not perturbed even though I keep fighting him/her and pretending like it’s water off a ducks back, with my, "bring it on" jinx fairy attitude! And still my jinx keeps trying to break me. But it’s a weird kind of jinxed because I personally feel extremely lucky and blessed, even though the jinx still keeps throwing me shit.

My latest jinxed story is this week I’ve had in Scotland. One week today I’ve been here. I so badly needed a little ME time and to decompress. Scotland/home seemed like the answer but I can't say it' been therapeutic.

I was only here a few days when I woke up with stabbing pains in my chest and an ambulance was called by my Lesley, and the next thing I knew I was lying in the Emergency room in my pink, fluffy, panther onesie (well Lesleys onesie, but it wants to be mine)! I could see on the sphyg that my blood pressure was 250/110 , geezo I thought, didn’t know numbers went that high on these machines! Digital age eh? A lovely, lovely young 1st year resident doctor boy child, who had really just gone into third year at school surely, gave me an IV of morphine and valium that buzzed and whooshed it’s lovely, lovely LOVELY way to my limbs and head within one single minute. Onsie on, hands behind my head, laying back, sun shinning outside and right onto my little stretcher bed, life felt pretty good for about 20 minutes, for the first time in too long to remember. Lesley even managed to get an unexpected day off as ‘’carer'’ to her friend, ‘’NO SHE DOESN’T HAVE ANYONE ELSE TO GO WITH HER, IT’S ME, ONLY ME!!!’’, I heard her scream to her boss down the phone as I was wheeled passed by the paramedics to the ambulance! By the way, when you hear the mee maw mee maw of an ambulance in the distance, and you know it's coming for you, it's the freakiest shit! That was a first for me, it wasn't on my bucket list, but still, it was a first which is always a positive. But I’m lying there, in the emergency room, thinking, in my comfy onesie, where will we go for lunch I wonder. See Mr. Jinx? I really don’t care most of the time, you’re wasting all your good tricks on me really! Things don’t freak me out that much, I’ve pretty much done that seen most of it before so nope, the whole chest pain, ambulance (sorry to tell you but I actually loved the ambulance ride, I was so pleased as I’ve never ridden in one before and always wanted to see the inside), the whole taken to hospital thing was nothing really. I’ve been in more hospitals as a nurse AND as a patient than Mr. Jinxy’s had hot dinners, so he’ll need to try harder. All well, and by the next day I’m lying in Lesleys bright yellow bikini lapping up the ‘’normal’’ sun you get out of Dubai in her garden. A couple of days up North will sort me, get out of the city! So off I go…

No stress, no worries, no pain, no work, no editing, no clients, no husband and no kids…nothing! (all references are not in order of importance!) I felt quite chirpy on my drive up! I was awwwwing and ooooohhhing in all the right places at the beautiful scenery, window open, sun on my face, music on, out the car a couple of times to take pics, all well - not even getting upset that there was road works and I was jammed for an hour, nothing was a bother.  I could smell Loch Lomand…I was a bit euphoric actually! The last 2 hours of the 4 hour journey, my euphoria was taking over by pain in my ankles. I was finding it difficult to use the gas and clutch pedals continuously for 4 hours because of my RA and my ankles and shins were complaining! By the time I swung round that bend that takes you into Oban, and that view that catches your breath from the top of your hill, wee fishing village, typically Scottish with it’s white houses and flowered gardens, it wasn't the view that was catching my breath... it was the agony of my ankles!! I found a place to stay pretty quickly and when I took my socks off in my room, it confirmed my suspicion. Red balloon legs and feet! I thought I’ll go have a shower, get the journey off my skin, take my meds and get into bed. On my drive up, I had stopped at a garage for petrol and also bought some cute little pink lady shaving razors, quite exited me, since I’d been here a week and had about 2 weeks of gorilla legs! So shower and a de fuzzing was waiting. When I get these flares, I get hundreds of little red, what look to me like blood blisters, on my skin wherever the flare is happening, in this instance, the legs. They disappear after the flare goes. You can probably guess what happened next! I’m drying myself outside the shower, in the guest houses fluffy, big, white bath towel and I notice my legs (and big fluffy white towel) were covered in blood! I’ve only gone and forgot about my little red occasional guests and shaved all their heads off!!! Blood!? Whatever they are, these blistery things, they are connected to a direct internal blood vessel system for sure, because they would…not….stop…BLEEDING!  I get myself plugged up with around 100 wee bits of toilet paper stuck to my legs to stop the bleeding. You know, like the kind you see on mens faces after they’ve shaved sometimes? Well, same as them, but only 98 more! I was not gonna be stopped, onwards with my me time, I’m going out for fish and chips!!!!!

Fish and chips didn't prove to be such a good idea either as it turned out. Spotted a lovely wee bench, right on the sea front, all to myself with a view of little old fishing boats and the cry of seagulls, perfect. I'm eating away (great fish and chips I have to say) and I make the first fatal mistake of throwing a bit of fish out on the pebbled shore for the gulls. There's an instant swarm (or should I say flock) of seagulls, screaming and fighting over this piece of fish. Once it was eaten by the most definite gang master, as he was the size of a dog, he looked over at me and I swear he caught my gaze for at least 10 terrifying seconds. He had found the food source! That was the end of it all. I was dive bombed and swooped upon, well my box of chips, which was sitting on my lap was swooped upon. I tried to swipe them away by shouting a shoo shoo kind of chant noise and trying to act as if a swarm of birds attacking me wasn't bothering me as I was now entertaining the entire pub across the road who were all enjoying the lovely evening outside, all watching and pointing at me! I made a quick decision and threw the box down and bolted. Well bolted in my hobble kind of way at the moment, which I'm sure entertained the onlookers even more. An old lady passed me and disapprovingly shook her head at me, ''ohhhh you should't have done that!'' she said. I looked around and every seagull that has ever visited, stayed or immigrated to Oban was in the 4 foot space in front of my bench, fighting and squealing, a mass of feathers and beaks. I decided to give up in this particular day and head back to the guest house to watch the football.

At this point in a flare, I would normally sigh and think well that’s the next 4-5 days gone then. Cancel clients, prepare myself to be horizontal for at least a few days, and not in the horizontal good way, and generally prepare to disappear till it was over (except Facebook of course) Nope, I was there to de stress, me time, that’s what I was told I needed, some ME time, so I wasn’t going to let a flare get in my way. Cutting a very long story short, not a good move, going out, even for fish and chips and seagull gladiator games, didn't improve my flare. To cut another long story short I hobbled my way up to the doctors surgery first thing in the morning, hoping they would take me before three weeks on Wednesday and perchance even today? My luck was in. Jinx was teasing me. Half an hour later I’m having a 4 inch needle of cortisone injected into my ankles and sent away with a 5 days supply of steroids, bliss!  I hobbled back to my guest house at twice the speed of the first time. Still slower than the 80 year old couple I was chatting with along the way, but still, it was progress. I hobble past my guest house and head for the car park as my ticket expired one hour before. Is there any point on telling you what was on my car? £60 fine! Exceeding the paid amount of time parked. No, no i don’t care I tell myself, my flare feels so much better, I might even be able to drive tomorrow and leave, not getting upset, it's  only money (shit) and I feel better which is more important. I go to the machine and pay enough to last till 9am the next morning. I sit in the passenger seat, door open and write the nice traffic warden person a note. I say, please don’t give me another ticket if i don’t manage down before 9am. The doctor at the surgery can confirm I’m not able to walk well at the moment due to an illness, here is my phone number, I am staying at a guest home 5 minutes away. Nice note. Should do the trick. I stick the note to the inside of the passenger window and a gust of wind blows the newly bought ticket out of my hand. I tried to grab it but landed on my knees from the car door. Kneeling on all fours, head bend back watching the ticket swirl around in the wind was the first time I thought, it really is getting to be a bit much this jinx business! I don’t have anymore change. I have a £5 note. I head off down the street to find a shop to get change. I pass a young mother sitting in her garden bench on her ipad, trying to ignore the constant moaning and screaming of her three small children playing around her. I really felt sad thinking how she’ll regret that when they leave home, and wished she had spent every second looking at their wee faces instead of an iPad. Then I realise I sound like an old granny and stopped that train of thought. First shop I pass is Farm Foods (a frozen food store) and I decide an ice lolly would be just the thing. Of course it’s a whole sale, bulk buying freezer place, so I can’t buy ONE ice lolly. I buy a box of 6 and give 5 to the woman on the bench for her kids as I pass her again. Kids are delighted!

New ticket on the car, the note is there too, I’m back in my room, legs elevated, medicated up, just watched the Italy game (world cup) and wondering what tomorrow will bring.

Start of a new week, my second week in Scotland starts tomorrow.

But all said and done, I must ask the new tenants in Rome if they threw away the dish of frozen water in the freezer with the two frozen names written on pieces of paper in it? I don’t think I told them about it and explained what it was. I told the last renters and I know it was there last summer coz I saw it, so they hadn’t touched it in 3 years. I think the new renters have thrown it away. Those two names I had in the freezer will have escaped! My spell will be broken. They will have put their jinx back on me… I’m sure of it! Although that wouldn’t explain all the jinx’s when they were in the freezer these past three years now would it? Hmmmm I don’t think this white witch spell works actually now that I think about it.

My phone has just broken, screens just gone black. I can still hear it ring or sms’s come in, but I can’t reply or answer as it’s just black. Shame I sold that new phone last week. :(

The end

[shirleylawson]

A SERIES OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS

June 2011

Yesterday I went shopping for a vacuum cleaner. Not the most exciting of things to be shopping for, I know, but actually for me, it was kinda :-). I’ve wanted one of those fancy dyson thingy bob machines for years, and could never really justify their hefty price tag, but now that we’re in Dubaism, consumer heaven, I thought, why not? When I get back to normal life I can use my super dooper vacuum and remember the good times! :) After asking the assistant a million questions I eventually decided on the D14 since that machine does “all floors” he told me, and with my hard floors and carpets would be ideal. Get it home, get in unpacked, have a wee go on my rug, highly impressed by the amount of crap I got off a rug that had been vacuumed a few days earlier and tried it on the tiled flooring. It made a funny noise. Not a healthy noise. I kind of, “get me off this floor and back onto the carpet” kind of noise. I read the manual.

“The DC 14 is not suitable for hard floors. A model with brush control is recommended for hard floors”……………………………….Shirley not happy!!!! I take the bloody machine and spend half and hour cleaning it trying to make it look like it’s never been used, and re pack it in order to go back to the shop!!!!

In the meantime, lets try to install the software for my new printer that I had to also buy, even though there was absolutely nothing wrong with my two year old printer apart from the fact that it was bought in Europe and thus far I’ve spent over 80 quid trying to buy ink for it here, which, as it turns out, cannot be bought on some models of European printers in the Middle East! As I’m trying to figure out how to put the paper into the new printer, I hear a noise from the storage cupboard which sounds, suspiciously, like running water. Not good since that’s were I store all my boxes of memorabilia and photo’s…………………..

…………..and there we have it!!!!! Everything I cherish and have any sentimental value for are in boxes which are now sitting in 4 inches of water. The cat has managed, whilst exploring the mountains of boxes, to switch on the shower and it has been slowly pouring out for what looks like at least a day. Did I cry? Yes, did I curse? Oh Yes! 3 hours later I am sitting on the floor in a house that has every  floor surface covered in photos. Some are lost forever, most, thankfully, were saved due to hasty separating before they dried stuck together. Some framed prints were ruined, some albums and lots of newspaper/magazine clippings.

Oh well, it can only get better this day. Off I go to my appointment with my gynaecologist. HA!!!! Yeah, I know, I should have cancelled but hey ho, I’m not superstitious! “Here’s you scan results, not looking good, lets start with scheduling you with a D&C and see what we find ok?” I’m fine with that, at this point my back is aching from carrying  that huge monstrosity, stupidest effin Hoover in the effin world (my love of Dysons has gone!) and then 3 hours of bending and mopping, I’m sore and stiff and want my dinner. “Ok, doc whatever you say, when will this be?”. He looks at his notes, practises his best sympathetic face, masters it, and says, “Lets just go ahead and schedule you for tomorrow shall we?”

Oh…………ok then. My quick half hour gyno visit turned into 3 hours at the hospital having, blood tests, x-rays, ecg’s and a visit to the anaesthesiologist in preparation for next day surgery.

Get home at 10pm to find the photo’s still all over the place, still not quite dry but by now I couldn’t care less. I collapse on the couch with a huge bar of Dairy Milk and a family sized bag of chessy balls and watch some TV. As I try to relax and enjoy a movie I hear a loud crashing noise followed promptly by Jen screaming “It’s ok, it’s an old vase”!!  I care not a jot!

Off to bed, jammies on, alarm set, teeth brushed in bed reading my book. My bedroom is still in boxes from the move as I haven’t managed to find any bedroom furniture I like yet, one of the things that the wall was supporting is a beautiful Charles Rennie Macintosh glass clock I was given as an engagement gift. Does it surprise me, at this moment, that I am looking at it on the floor, in shattered pieces? Nah!!!!

So today’s another day, hospital………… surgery??? Pah!!! Bring it on!!!

(for Italians……….. scratch your balls for me please)

[shirleylawson]

Back To Rome 2007

I'm getting ready to head off to airport back home to Rome from Glasgow. It's gonna take me at least a week to thaw out after the weather here these past 5 days! Love my trips to Glasgow but look forward to getting back home. I seem to spend my time in airports either picking people up, dropping them off or going out myself. The guy at the coffee bar here in Rome Airport knows me now and always asks where to now or who I'm picking up. First few months of the year I had Chris over a couple of times and my friend Lesley came for a week then Julie for another week. I went to Glasgow January, February, April and May then went to Milan in May with my daughter for a long weekend of shopping, which was lovely, and to see Paolo Nutini in concert. Went to Sicily for 5 days with Stefano on the 20th which was beautiful. Been there a few times and we love it, then back home two days and off to Glasgow again to bring Chris back for summer. Brought Chris back 1st of July and then all four of us took of for Skopelos on the 4th for 10 days. It's a lovely wee remote Greek island and we had a villa with a fabulous sea view and pool but to be honest the kids were bored as didn't seem any different to the lives they have back here in Rome apart from everyone talking Greek instead of Italian!! I loved it though, back to my roots! Back on 14th and took the kids back to Glasgow on the 21st with Chris having a ball in-between in Rome.

  I spent 10 days in Glasgow to catch up with everyone, longest I've spent there in ages and the kids went off to New York with their Dad. Back to Rome for two days and the kids came back the next day and we all hired a sailing boat with another two friends and their kids who are the same age and went sailing off to Elba for 4 days. That was really lovely, I love Elba, have been there three times now. Came back of the night of the 14th of August and the kids caught a flight to Glasgow the next morning as Chris was starting school in the middle of the summer on the 16th of August, unbelievable, and Jen had a weeks work experience . Whilst they did that Stefano and I went off to La Madallena in Sardinia and spent 10 days there. Jen came back on the 28th and started school on the 9th of September, spending her last two weeks catching up with all her friends she missed over the summer and hanging out every day at the beach or the lakes and going into town at night into Campo where they all hang out. 

I had Lesley come over again during that period and we went up to Orvieto where a friend of mine has an amazing 800 year old house on the hills of Umbrian vineyards. It really is something else. Huge house with a huge pool and the most amazing decor. It was great to have Essie and a perfect end to a perfect summer. I went to London on the 15th to meet up with Chris for his birthday. He wanted to see the lord of the Rings show so Michael took him there and Jen and I went to see Ricky Gervais! Brilliant! 

Jen went back to Rome for school on Monday and I went up to Glasgow and froze my butt off for a couple of days returning here on the 20th with my cousin Jacqui who just left on the 25th. Went up to Pisa on Friday night and came back Saturday. (That leaning tower sure does lean eh!) That's me up to date. It's been a busy busy summer and I'm looking forward to my boy coming for the October week and then Scotland for Christmas but most of all I'm looking forward to not packing (or un packing) another case for a while and just being at home. The days are still hot but there is a wee chill in the air at night...........mmmmmmmm log fire time soon! 

[shirleylawson]

Four Days in Dubai

After I unpacked my bag last Wednesday from my London/Brighton trip to see my girl I was told by my darling husband to re pack, as we were off to Dubai the next day. Just got back from 4 days in Dubai, first time in the Middle East and not a social visit so absolutely exhausted. We had to go for us to basically make the final decision on whether or not to sign on the dotted line to transfer there or not (and I had a few wee contacts of my own to see, but keeping quiet about them at the moment, due to my superstition) and of course this time wifey had to come along as she is the one who has the final yay or nay at the end of the day!. Firstly, 4 days is not enough to get a real feel for a place but, depending on your pace, and ours was approx. 4 hours sleep per night, you can get a fair idea. If I had to choose whether or not to live there according to the flight, then the deal is done! We travelled Economy Class, of course, but with United Emirates Airlines, it doesn't feel like economy. Three tunnels take you onto the aircraft, one for First class, one Business and us cattle classes in Economy. We had to pass through the last two aisles of Business to get to our seats without even a whiff of the champagne and caviar being served in First, but the sight of the business class was enough to make me wonder if they all sat through there in First Class in a Living Room setting with shag pile carpet, full four poster beds and a log fire! Our flight was wonderful. Five hours and 40 minutes of sheer relaxation. A warm fluffy blanket and big soft pillow on every seat, which reclined backward and outward for your legs. Huge TV/Computer/Games Station/CD Radio in front with 700 channels to choose from. All the latest movies, I watched, My Sisters Keeper, Julie& Julia a bit of Malcolm in the Middle and listened to some of the new Red Hot Chilly CD and we had arrived, being served three times in between with wines, and a wonderful three course meal. There was an under aircraft camera to watch the assent from Rome and descent into Dubai. As we approached Dubai airport the first thing that stuck me was the proximity of the airport to the actual city. The runway seemed to be in the very centre of all these magnificent buildings and I felt I could reach out and touch the tips of them. From the air Dubai has a skyline similar to Manhattan but on a grander scale and with the lights and glitz of Las Vegas thrown in. I could see the Burg Dubai (tallest building in the world) rising above them all and it was spectacular. We disembarked and the airport was not a disappointment after the flight. It was huge and as I stood at passport control I looked up and couldn’t see the where the building ended, all I could see where lights and water falls and sky trains whizzing past, I felt like I’d stepped into another century. All airport staff are fluent in English and are only too willing to assist you with any enquiries you may have with a smile. It took a fair hike to eventually arrive outside but of course we were standing on Travelators the whole time and trying to take in the sights of the airport. I never thought an airport would make me want to get the old camera out (unfortunately it was packed away). The floors were white glistening marble with the gleam of silver everywhere (had to keep on the Prada sunglasses, also to show these Arabs I’m a classy Italian broad), sparkly little fairy lights and fabulous water features accompanied by music. Never mind a bloody hotel, I thought, lets just go get some sleeping bags and park here for the 4 days! We wouldn’t have needed the sleeping bags as it turned out, with an abundance of leather reclining seats in front of TV’s and computers. The services offered inside the airport were also very impressive, a line of pristine baby buggies in wonderful Disney Technicolor lined one wall for complimentary use and looked like a baby had never had it’s nappy soaked bum near one. Outside the warm night air hit us. It was 11.30pm but still warm and me in my boots and padded jacket. Our dear friend from Rome Paolo was coming to pick us up. He’s been living and working there for just over a year now and we’ve known him for 13 years, so we trusted his judgment of life in Dubai. Outside there was a queue of limousines and hummer limos…………..does no one have a normal car in this city?? Apparently not, Paolo drove up in his huge 4 by 4 Merc! The drive to his apartment took all of 20 minutes and then I saw some of the real Dubai City!!!! I craned my neck out the window the entire journey as Stefano and Paolo chatted away and caught up after not seeing each other for some time. Row after row after row of the most spectacular examples of 21st century architecture lined the streets to my left. Each building making me gasp until the two second gap of the next. Apartments blocks, office blocks, hotels and restaurants each one more impressive than the other. To the right was the sea. A pier stretching as far as the eye could see in the shape of a palm tree full of hotels, swimming pools and talcum powder beaches. Paolo’s apartment was on the 22nd floor of a dark blue building, the glass looked dark blue from the outside but normal from the inside. His balcony had a sea view to the right with the Marina and all the amenities it had to offer, a pool directly below and the skyline of glittering, sky scrapping buildings to the left. We sat out there drinking and talking and laughing (Paolo’s girlfriend lives with him) till 4 am which was silly, since Stefano had to be up early in the morning and had a hectic few days ahead, but he managed! He went off to “Internet City”, the main office area of the city by 08.30hrs and I set off to check out the local area. Taxis are in abundance (just like Rome I hear you say…………….not), in fact, there is even no need to raise your arm or call for one, they seem to instinctively know you are coming to the road for a taxi and up they pull. Out gets the driver and opens the back door for you, with polite, thank you Madams and welcomes. All the locals speak perfect English I soon learnt, even though I insisted on speaking to everyone in Italian!!! Please don’t ask me why I did this, as I have no logical explanation why my seriously defective brain seems to work slightly different to the norm. After 4 days of doing this and seriously analysing why I would speak in Italian to these polite English speaking people, I can only assume it’s because in my brain they are foreign, and with all foreigners I speak Italian (I did it in Greece last year also) as that’s MY foreign language that I know! Does it make any sense to anyone? Please tell me it does! Shopping malls are pretty standard (by Dubai standards of course, think airport, sky trains and water features) but they had Marks and Spencer’s, Debenhams (dedicated to British readers) New Look, Top Shop………every single High Street British shop including, of course, Italian designer shops and the American chains, although I have to say it was a mainly British city from the signs (lift not elevator) and the electric plugs in the houses (heaven, adaptor stayed in the bag for 4 days). To give you an idea of the size of the mall it is equivalent to 73 football fields with over 700 shops (I read this outside;) and has an indoor ski resort in which you can ski or snow board or sledge the day away and swear as far as the eye can see that you were in the Alpine Mountains. Lisa, Paolo’s girlfriend and I headed down to check out the beach which was a 5 minutes walk from the apartment. The beach had long white sandy beaches running into the crystal clear sea, the Persian Gulf, (surely they can’t have cleaned that up manually as well?) which gave me time to digest my lunch and listen to some tunes on my ipod whilst catching some much missed sun rays. Since it is after all November, it started to get a wee bit chilly around 6pm, so we headed up to the apartment and joined our men folk in the pool for a swim. Whilst swimming my laps of the pool I see three women chatting away at the side of the pool and detect Scottish accents. Swimming a little closer, not only are they Scottish but from Glasgow so I casually, accidentally swim up to them and say, “Hi, are those Scottish accents I hear?” “Yes, one of them replies “I’m from Newlands” We get into a wee bit of chit chat and discuss how long they’ve been living there (one 9 years, one 5 years and one a sister who’s just visiting) and why we are there and I’m trying to decide if it’s for me. I ask if they like living there and the two that live there say it’s like living in paradise. “So?”, one says, “What do you think, do you like it”. “Well I can’t really tell at this point as it’s only been a day and at the moment I kind of know how Scarlett Johansson felt in Lost in Translation, it all feels a bit like a golden cage and surreal to me. “Where have you come from?” she asks, to which I answer Rome, I’ve been living in Rome for the last 6 years. “AAAAhhh” she says with a look of disgust on her face, “well if you can cope with living in Rome you can cope with living anywhere!!!!!” well (directed to my Italian friends and other international friends living in Rome) it was like someone had insulted my kid! You know that feeling? Like, you can moan and complain about your own kids all you want but,……………. if someone else does!!! I thought, you cheeky cow, I never thought I would feel so defensive about Rome. I told her I think I would miss the history and the piazza’s and the general integration and embracement of the Italian culture, but was still feeling a little shell shocked by her comment when Stefano, who was eaves dropping said, “So you’re from Glasgow?”, Yes she said, we moved from Glasgow to here. “Well”, says Stefano, “I suppose anywhere would feel like Paradise straight from Glasgow!” Shabam!!!! and he swam away leaving me smiling and wondering how I never manage to think of smart comments at the right time. First night dinner was had at the Royal Hotel Meridian, the hotels seem to be the place where all the local expats hang out for drinks and eating as alcohol is not served in pavement open air cafes. No idea what the star rating is of this hotel as it seems to be the same rating as every hotel I have seen but if I worked for the AA hotel rating system, I would give this a big 10 star rating. I felt like a super star. When I went to the bathroom the door was opened for me and I reluctantly stepped into the cubicle, checking my back that she wasn’t following me in to wipe my ass. She very discreetly left the restroom and returned when she heard me open my door with a clean hot towel and even put on the bloomin tap, (hey, this kind of service was giving to me in Starbucks that morning, not quite on that level but not too far off). I returned to find the waiter rush tomy chair for my return. I really wanted to say, like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman, “Look darlin, I’m a sure thing, I’ve been living in Rome for 6 years and I’m impressed if you say sorry after bumping into me, it’s really easy, no need for this, honest!”. The guys went inside to choose the fish and lobsters that were still swimming around happily, so I declined. The most amazing fish and crab was served and eaten by all (we were joined by another couple who are friends of Paolo’s) and we then walked down to the hotel swimming pool and drank some drinks under the gazebo and looked out over at the spectacular grounds. Stefano and I went for a walk in the gardens and he put his arm around me and said, this is the life I have always wanted to give you, would you rather be here or in Rome right now. I looked around and said, without a doubt it is spectacular and breathtaking but honestly………….I’d rather be snuggled up with my huge log fire crackling away under our blanket watching TV in Rome! Over in the bar we could hear some English football being watched by some Brits on a big screen TV and some Scottish accents in the balmy night air. We left to go onto another bar called Budda Bar which was in an Indian style,(I suppose the clue is in the name) and had a cocktail before deciding at around 2am that since we had to get up at 08.30am we had better head for home. Another step out into the night with a taxi stopping before you even know if you need one yourself and another fare of 10 dirham’s which is less than 2 euro’s (10 dirham’s is 1.80 euro) and when we gave him a 20 he was most grateful. By the way, we took a taxi back to the airport which is around 25-30 minutes and it cost 12 euro, with luggage and helping in and out of the car. We both walked down to the seafront at lunchtime the next day relaxed and knowing that the work part was over and lets really see this place. We stopped into Starbucks and had a coffee and decided to drive up the desert and go sand dune quad biking. The drive wasn’t long, around 45 mins before we reached a landscape untouched by human hand of approx. 2,500 miles of desert. It was still bright and sunny when we paid for our buggies and all four of us headed over to the “practice area” to get the hang of the buggies before excitedly driving through the gate and heading straight for the desert. The first mile or so you can see that people have been coming here at night and having bonfires or whatever and leaving their rubbish behind (bastards!) but after that it’s miles and miles and miles of swooping dunes and wind brushed sand with no sign of human touch. In the distance a few wild camels and apart from that just…………..nothing! It was such fun! Stefano took a dune a bit too cockily and toppled his buggy over but apart from his pride, nothing was hurt! The sun started to set and we all four stopped at the top of a huge dune around 60 ft high and watched this wonderful sight. You feel the silence and no one said anything for a few minutes (which believe me is a wonderment in itself from Paolo). Then once again we were off all racing along and over taking one another and we all reached the top of a dune at the same time and braked hard to look down at a straight vertical drop of around 60 feet. We all parked and looked down and decided that we wouldn’t take the chance and put the buggies into reverse, we lacked the needed adrenaline rush of an 18 year old at this point and with a combined age of around 150 years, we all headed back to the flag in the distance, which was our marker flag for returning the buggies. What a fabulous experience. That night we went out for a Persian meal in a restaurant set on a channel not unlike sitting in Venice, only a few years younger. Again, first class service, first class meal and wonderful wine. We thought about going to the cinema one night but decided it was really silly to go to the cinema when we had such little time and you can go to the cinema anywhere, although looking at the website of the nearest cinema was enough entertainment in itself. Huge individual leather reclining lazy boys in pairs or fours. All with waitress service of meals, wines or snacks accomplished by the push of a button on your chair. Basically, to summarise the rest of the trip was very short indeed and I would have loved to have had another week or two there. We slipped away early one morning, insisting that Paolo stay in bed as taxi’s are so cheap, and there we were back in the wonderful airport where I felt I had been in only yesterday. Whilst waiting for my flight I popped into the toilet to be greeted by another towel/open door woman and thought, how will I survive without you in Rome? We landed at Fiumicino airport in the morning and before going outside to call the Park&Go guy to get our car I ran into the tobacco shop to buy cigarettes. As the woman threw my change down on the counter ignoring my outstretched hand and saying nothing but nodding to the next customer to tell her what he wanted I thought, yip, back in Italy, a vero?. In conclusion…………….we spent a very stressful next few hours back at home discussing back and forth the pro’s and con’s of staying in Rome or leaving and working and living in Dubai. I would miss my house terribly, and the friends I have made. Stefano would miss the outdoor life and his horses. I would miss my dogs. He looked like a 12 year old boy at one point and I felt so bad for him that he couldn’t make the decision. If we don’t like it we can stay a minimum of one year perhaps 18 months. If we do……….. indefinitely. The house here in Rome will always be ours, we will rent it out and in fact already have an interested family without even having advertised. Chris will come live with us when he finishes school and there are an abundance of British Colleges and Universities although I think he has his heart set on sailing school. I would spend July and August in Rome to escape the 50 degree temperatures over there and to have Jen over for the summer as that’s where all her friends will be returning from University for the summer are and where she feels is home. She will of course come to Dubai to visit us and I will go there, but we already agreed that if this job was taken, that summers would be spent in a rented apartment in the city centre of Rome. Without talking about finances, although it’s hard not to as they are incomparable, I would be able to go to Brighton and see Jen whenever I wanted to without worrying about how much the flight was and staying as long as I wanted.  I could go up to Glasgow to see Chris for the next year or so till he is with us also or have him come down for weekends in Brighton. Money would be no issue. We have made the decision. It’s a yes!

[shirleylawson]

Empty Nest Jan 2010

Festive emotion!

Yesterday started at 7am to take my boy to the airport to go back to school. Don't know when I'll see him again with all this Dubai talk and it's the first time I've ever dropped him off without saying I'll see you in a month (or less)! Exhausted! Then spent the whole day totally drained as I had not been to bed yet either (waited up for them till 4am, then thought I need to be up at 6, what's the point?) and was waiting for Jen's flight in the evening to take her and do it all over again. We spent the day packing what's going with her, going into storage and what's being given away! Took her at 7pm and she cried all the way, I kept strong, being positive and telling her the first semister is always the worst, it'll be a breeze now!! Too much to handle when we had to stand to check in for 40 minutes and we both cried............it's the just not knowing what's happening and when we'll see each other again, that's the killer. I've had the anticipation of Sunday the 3rd for three whole weeks and I've been a bloody nightmare to live with on an emotional roller coaster! Announcement made: FLIGHT CANCELLED!!!! We are told by easyjet that we can book any flight on any airline to London within the next 7 days and I'll get a full refund of this flight and the new one.:))) Jen cried again................ with happiness!!!! She could not have had a bigger grin!!! We drive to Chinese take-away and get food, curl up with beer and food and life is good again.............until Friday when we've rebooked on British Airways!!! Wish Chris had been on the cancelled flight too. 

[shirleylawson]

ONE LITTLE PIGGY!

At which point did the pig go away?

When i was living at home with my mother i was a dirty pig! My room was filthy and untidy, always.

When I was a student living away from home i was an even bigger pig, because no mum to pick up after me! I then got married and for the fist half of my marriage i continued to be a pig, mess, clutter, couple of days dinner plates in the sink, I cared not a jot! I'm sure my ex husband will gladly clarify.

I was wondering something, at which point did it all change? I hate mess! I hate clutter! I hate filth and could not live in it now or even imagine it. Is there some little fairy comes and sprinkles dust on you making you suddenly a neurotic nag! I hear myself, I sound like my mother! When did that happen? Will i ever get that little pig back again?? I hope so, this non-pig stuff is exhausting!

[shirleylawson]

SUPER SIZE ME!

Day 10 of my super size experiment and I give up. Your mother really wasn't kidding when she said eat your greens and put down the chocolate. It didn't start as a deliberate experiment. It started off as me being totally peed off at the world for various reasons and seeking comfort in food. My Rheumatoid disease has been particularly bad for around a month with a new symptom of neuropathy thrown in, as if chronic pain wasn't enough. Apparently, my joint damage is pressing on nerves in my ankles and legs causing constant burning and numbness. I've also stopped smoking and want to *stab everyone, more than I usually do, which is quite a lot on any given day!!! Day 38 now, the worst is over, the best has still to come (please come, I'm totally ready). So, it gradually started to evolve that I was side stepping my usual eating habits and pondering over the biscuit/chocolate aisle instead of completely avoiding it. These 10 days have gone thus:

I have totally forgotten I have a smoothie maker, steamer and a juicer. I wiped them down the other day and promised a hasty return. I have drank carbonated drinks AND caffeine. I reckoned if I gave up the fags I was entitled a stimulant of some kind and caffeine won. So instead of my soya milk cappuccino decaf on the way to yoga class, it became a cappuccino with cows milk and real caffeine (yoga class also went by the way side, didn't see the point of meditating all that sugar and fat even deeper into my cells!) I've had a couple of cokes, not diet of course, I decided killing myself slowly was preferable to a quick and sudden death as my kids would have more time to adjust. Lemon sodas and a couple of ginger ales, I experienced carbonated burps again and oh how we laughed together like old lost friends. No one else was as amused as us, kill joys, more for my stab list.

I have been in refined heaven. White bread, white rice, white pasta, white sugar....virginal whites everywhere with not a seedy brown hue in sight. Hello white bread!! :) Totally forgotten that taste of crusty white bread, smothered in butter...total blissful heaven, with a cup of tea, not even decaf tea, or green tea, just TEA..... just heaven.

Fruit and veg intake practically zero. Gone were my avocados, spinach and berries, replaced my maltesers, cadburys and crisps. Over the course of ten days dinner has been fish and chips with mushy peas, (so there was green there!), a chinese take away with sweet and sour sauce, heart burn hell all night, a burger fuel burger and chocolate milk shake (veggie burger at burger fuel is NOT the healthy option) macaroni and cheese, cheese in any form - cooked in any way, worked on my night cheese, nightly. Pizza, curry with cream coconut and cashew nut sauce. I've said yes to desserts. I've had cheesecake, apple crumple and custard, raspberry crumble with ice cream and a magnum! When did they get so good?

I've had no fish (fried in batter fish doesn't count). I've had no grains. I've had no beans, lentils or quinoa. Chia seeds, flax seeds all seeds are at the back of the cupboard gathering seed moss. I'm vegetarian so didn't eat meat, but replacing meat with carbs, diary and fat was not in my life plan when I stopped eating meat! It's 6am, and i've just sat bold upright for the third night in a row with thee most horrific heart burn again. I'm saying heart burn only because i think it's heartburn, how do you tell? I've never been a sufferer. I have a burning sensation in my throat and neck relieved sometimes my chewing on antacids (bottle beside the bed now) but mainly resorting to Zantac, which I haven't touched or needed since my last pregnancy 20 years ago.

Lets share all the side effects of the passed 10 days shall we?.

1. I have gained 2 kilos, i think, probably more like 3 but I keep thinking 3 kilos in 10 days cannot be possible surely!

2. I feel tired lethargic and irritable. *See stab everyone reference.

3. My husband wants a divorce.

4. I have gas I feel is inappropriate to over share, but lets just say, I think a rat crawled into my bowels 5 years ago and died there.

5. Diarrhoea every day, various forms...nuff said.

6. Stomach cramps.

7. Spots

8. Hair looks like a horses tail and my nails have all broken

What have we learned here?

Our mums were right.

[shirleylawson]

Arrivaderci Roma

Only one day remains of my 7 years and 4 days in Rome. I find myself thinking back to how I felt a few years ago and how i feel now in comparison, vastly different. Culture shock effects everyone but obviously some more than others depending on many factors like their age which contributes to how easy it is for them to adapt, where they have come from and how much they enjoyed their previous life and how different the place you move to is from what you have adapted to back home. My life here to begin with was pretty dire. I missed home, I missed friends, I missed the familiar things of life and to be confronted on a daily basis with the Italian ways, made me almost a recluse for some time. I did a lot of complaining, moaning and generally whining, much to Stefano's delight, and nothing was ever good enough. I found it extremely difficult to adapt to the Italian way of doing things, which I completely felt were inferior to the British way, and fought them rather than embracing them, for the longest time.

Now here I am, ready to leave and begin a new life block and new experience. More than a year ago we were talking about doing this, just less than a year ago we decided the pros out weighted the cons and we'd go for it! The contract was signed and off Stefano went 8 months ago. I encouraged it. We needed to start a fresh, we needed to have my boy back and opportunities were there for him, not here. We needed to be rid of the negativity that Rome can give to you. Bella Porca............beautiful whore, often heard to describe Rome and I've never fully understood it's meaning exactly, vaguely, but not exactly! Of course I understand it now and have done for a long time! A beautiful whore, someone you hate and don't want to spend time with, but she keeps drawing you in. Eventually you loose your heart to her, and I have. There is just something about Rome, everyone complains but once bitten, they can't leave.

Today I took a journey that should have taken me 20 minutes in my car, an hour and a half of traffic and chaos and the whole time I sat in the traffic, with my arm out the window, feeling the sun and slight September breeze. I watched the traffic dodge around only as Romans know how (and I myself have learned), smiled at the boy on his motorino talking on his cell phone and smoking a cigarette whilst skimming past  with one centimetre to spare in passing cars (as I have also learned)...........and i thought, god how I'll miss this city. I have this pace now that is part of me, I understand the reason behind why they do things i thought so strange at first, I eat as they eat and in their regimented times but completely understand the reasons why. I have absorbed the culture I suffered from at the beginning, but not only did I come out the other side, I came out loving it. There will always be a place in my heart called home for Rome. I will always feel a little Romesick

Aspettarmi Roma, ritorno presto.

[shirleylawson]

Catherines Bed

I started a new book at bedtime tonight. It’s Alice Seybolds new book, a follow up to “Lovely Bones” which I would easily describe as one of my all time favourite books. I have since learned (tonight that is) that I shouldn’t read Alice Seybolds books before sleeping as she raises my blood pressure like no other author. I can’t wait to turn the page and then I’m usually disappointed as she flashes back to a scene from the past and I’m left skimming the pages to find out what happened in the cliff hanger that made me turn the pages so desperately in the first place. Although I’m rather annoyed that she didn’t continue with the story, against my will, I’m actually enjoying the flashback as well. All very confusing. Anyway, I put down the book at 2am and by 3.10 I’m getting out of bed and giving up on sleeping and coming to this computer to write down, for a change, just one of the many thoughts that sometimes keep me a awake at night

We’ve just come back tonight from a 7 day trip over Christmas and the house was particularly cold on our return, so, feeling cold whilst I’m actually in bed, doesn’t do much for inducing sleep. I went downstairs to collect an extra blanket (and catch the last of the embers in the fire by poking my head in the hearth as far as is possibly achievable without singeing off my eyebrows because, for the first time in my life, I felt the peculiarity of the sensation that my hair was also freezing cold!. Upon returning to the bedroom and putting the extra blanket on top, as well as the one I keep for emergencies under the bed, I looked at the high pile of blankets and had a strong memory of a bed I once knew so very well. I tried to get back to sleep but couldn’t as the thoughts of this “bed” memory were floating around in my head, helped by the fact that I could feel the weight of the blankets on top of me, which only enhanced the memory.

Catherine was my best friend from the age of around 14 to 17. I say best friend but I really have no idea what that means and I say best friend when describing Catherine, as she was my only friend at that time. We prided ourselves on being the rebels that didn’t stick to the school uniform and we also went to disco’s at the weekend, licensed disco’s, where one had to be 18 to get in...pretty impressive stuff. Our peers at school would never dream of going to a disco, but Catherine had an older sister who knew the Security Men and easily get us in. Catherine was one of ten Irish Catholic children. She lived in the “Timber Houses”, which was an estate of dark wood built houses that resembled the log cabins you would find in a cowboy movie. I have no idea why or when they were built but I remember someone telling me that they burnt down like a crisp if they ever caught fire. I stayed there every weekend after we would sneak in, far too late at night, returning from the disco. I think I stayed there for many reasons but the two main ones were that, it was easier to share a taxi home and, I loved the fact that her house was always full of kids (whose names I never managed to memorise). By the time I was 16 my two sisters and brother had married and left home and left just my mother and I at home. I loved waking in the morning (which was always a Saturday morning) to the noise of kids running up and down the stairs and shouting and playing together. They always seemed such a happy family and were always so glad to see me trudge out of the room in my pyjamas in the morning. They were all younger than Catherine, apart from her older sister May who shared a room with Cathy. They all looked alike and there seemed to be only a year or so between each one. I remember constantly asking Catherine to rhyme off each ones name and age and being fascinated that she could remember them all (which is so unbelievably stupid now that I think about it because of course she would know the names of all her siblings, no matter how many she had!).

Her Mum and Dad seemed really old to me at the time but looking back, as I am tonight, they probably were not that old, perhaps even the age I am now. I suppose after ten kids though, you kinda loose your interest in looking youthful! Matt Donnelly and May. I even remember both their names (but none of the children’s apart from Catherine and her older sister May). May (the mother) would make the same breakfast every Saturday. Soft white bread rolls opened and toasted on the inside with melted cheddar cheese and a hot steaming mug of tea. Nothing tasted better. We would all crowd around the coal fire, which her Dad had built before we got up, and it all seemed so primal and natural and just lovely to me. My Greek mother with her fancy coffee and sugary buns for breakfast, didn't compare this heaven. I used to day dream into the flames and the burning house theory would inevitably cross my mind. Some of the younger kids would sit around my feet and ask me a thousand questions about where we had been the night before, what boys we had spoken to, what we were wearing and did we dance? They seemed to be in awe of me, probably just a new face in the house and someone that was not a sibling was the main attraction.

Anyway, to get back to the bed story. When we would sneak in very late at night we would undress very quietly and slip into Catherine’s single bed together. There was no central heating in the house, only the aforementioned coal fire, and remember we are talking West of Scotland here, not California! I had a continental quilt on my bed at home, electric blanket and central heating, but I suppose with ten children these luxuries weren’t affordable nor a priority. Catherine had a pile of blankets on her bed like I’d never seen before or since. There must have been around ten blankets but what amazed me the most about the whole set up of the bed making, was the fact that they were all folded over once, they were the same size as the actual bed, nothing hanging over the sides, just stopped dead where the mattress ended at the bottom and on the sides! Now, unless you’ve slept in a bed made like this you will not know what I’m talking about when I say that this set up was fine as long as you stayed perfectly still and on your back, but if you turned onto your other side you were left with a completely exposed and freezing ass! The only solution for me every week was to remake the bed before I got into it, so, whilst Catherine was in the bathroom, I would strip the bed of all it’s blankets and re make it shaking them out in all their glory, so as the end of the blankets touched the floor. This made the bed 10 blanket thick instead of 20 blanket thick which I felt was more than adequate, when you considered we compensated for the lose of blankets, by the fact that there was two of us spooned together for body heat ( I had to explain this every week to Catherine when she came back from the toilet and got annoyed that I was making the bed again) I still remember feeling the roughness of a blanket on my cheek as I snuggled down for the night. I also remember that we had to wake each other up, during the night, if either of us wanted to turn but it was never a problem when you’re 16, you just float straight back off to sleep again. Not like when you’re old and you can’t sleep for silly thoughts swimming around in your head!!! Night night x

Catherine and I with our “trendy” perms 

[shirleylawson]

Mishaps and Mayhems In Jordan

Just got back from a hectic 5 day trip to Jordan/Jerusalem/Petra. We're calling it the ''incidente'' (accidents) trip due to the amount of mishaps

Mishaps in brief, one, Stefano left my new camera, case, equipment at the security control in Jordan when we arrived, remembering only when we got to our hotel half hour away. Could have copped with that if he had remembered it was the security gate, but all he could remember was, ''I had it at some point!''. This was after he had gone back in the cabin of the aircraft as he'd left it in the overhead locker! Ok, first night lost, didn't get there till 11am and spent that time calling the airport to try and get it back. Seventy euro for taxi's back and forth and 30 for the guys who found it and we're 100 euro lighter and it's 2 am. Only had one night in this 5 star haven of a hotel which was a real shame as it looked absolutely stunning, breakfast was good though. :) 

Two, border control in Jordan to Palestine the next morning!!!!! What a joke! Three hours waiting to get in and 3 hours to get out the next day! The most unorganised establishment ever, no one knows anything. I quote, second security check, official in uniform, '' No, you can't come through here with just a passport'', oh, i say, ok, what else do we need? ''You need a ticket, one each, you need to buy four!''. Right where do we get them, and what are they for exactly? ''I dunno!" What do you mean YOU don't know! How are we supposed to buy them if YOU don't even know!? The entire time at Palestine Border control was spent on conversations like that and "What's your fathers name?" ehhhhhh William!"", they asked what Stefano's grandfathers name was, I thought, please don't ask me that, i'd need to make one up, as i have no idea!

Third mishap, we're back in Jordan, check in after a 5 hour drive (should have been 3 but we got lost, is that a mishap?) to our third hotel, luggage unloaded, porter waiting, reception can't find our reservation, it's 1am and we're all tired, Stefano checks his emails, it's not The Movenpick, it's The Marriot. Luggage back in car, another 10 miles, i love my wee organised hubby bubby. 

Stefano, ''How did I think it was The Movenpick, that's weird, must be cause it begins with M, same as The Marriot?" Yeah, that'll be it darling, geez!!!!

Four, we check out last hotel on our way to airport, i slip and fall down all the outside steps, ass and elbow surfing the whole way down. Hotel want to call a doctor, but we're late and they just wanna cover their asses in case i sue them, which i should as white marble steps look very pretty outside your hotel but the shiny surface is perhaps not practical? Spend the journey back sitting on a bag of ice which eventually melts leaving the seat of my pants looking like I've done a massive pee in them at the airport, and the black and blue bruising which covers the entire right bum cheek, is now actually visible through the wet, cream linen fabric! Not forgetting arm bruised from wrist to elbow. My left hand is also painful, due to Paolo closing the electric window in the back when my hand was actually outside, that was whist i was sitting on the ice, does that count as a fifth? 

Sixth, stopped by police on the way to airport, speeding ticket, they go back to their car to write it up and out get the two Italian guys, light their cigarretes and saunter over to the police car to have a ''chat'' with the officers. Elisa and I cringe from the car as there is a lot of back slapping, hand gestures and laughing. I can hear Paolo's infamous saying of ''look my friend''. But, they came back one speeding ticket cancelled, god knows what was said, at that point i was rubbing my half broken hand and sitting on my bag of ice, i didn't really care. Immediately after Paolo almost crashes our car as the car in front slams on his brakes at one of the million speed bumps every two minutes on the road, the wheels screech to a halt and there is an immediate smell of burning rubber. Stefano was snoring beside me, never stirred.

Seven, or is it eight, lost count as i don't know which ones count anymore. Seems all is over, we get on the flight, nothing, we sleep for the entire flight, nothing, we disembark and wait in the bus at Dubai airport, no Stefano. I thought he was behind me, Elisa thought he was behind her, the bus is held up, the passengers are hot, sweaty and tired and getting annoyed, the pilot stands at the top of the stairs and shouts down to us, ''there is a passenger still onboard, looking for his passport!'' Everyone groans, we three look down and say nothing. He eventually gets on the bus and we try to pretend he's not with us, but it doesn't work, he still doesn't have his passport and wants to tell us all about how he had it when he got onboard, how can he have lost it? (P.S. I am not in the slightest bit concerned at this point as this is a daily occurrence in my house). We get into the terminal, the cleaners go onboard and we wait. Guess what, it's in the mag rack in front of his seat!!!  Now who would have thought it would be there?

Ok, mishaps included what a spectacular trip. There was indeed room at the inn for us in Jerusalem and it included luxuries i'm sure poor Mary and Joseph didn't find down the road in Bethlehem. We walked the walk of Jesus's path to calvary, we saw his burial place, we touched the actual stone he was placed on, ahemm, and then we watched as others weeped and wailed around it. Talking of weeping an wailing just a few steps up the road is the Jewish place of worship The Wailing Wall and Holy Synagogue. Those poor Jews really know how to punish themselves eh? No idea what they'd done but it must have been pretty bad, penance galore at that wall, and young kids too! Another few steps and it's the muslim mosque crying out it's evening prayers, everyone shoeless and crouched down on their prayer carpet. Religion a go-go in this town, not sure where i stood in all this weeping, wailing and worship, so i just stood in the middle and took photo's!!!

A stroll through Jerusalem town at night, the new town is surprisingly beautiful and the has the most amazing little arts and crafts shops, Stefano is very happy that they were closed. Sat outside in a bar and watched the football, was offered some cannibis by the owner (middle east!!!???) and had some delicious pub grub, surprised at how the temperature is the same as Dubai, around 35 at night, but there is no humidity, so it's very pleasant to sit outside. Back to Jordan and THAT border again in the morning! 

Checked into yet another hotel in Jordan, (The Marriot, not The Movenpick remember?) and had a swim in the dead sea. I thought i knew what to expect with that sea, you know, you hear how you don't need to do anything but lie there and the sea holds you up? It really is more incredible than i thought, the buoyancy even makes it difficult to turn onto your stomach and forget having a swim! It's like lying in jelly, salty flavoured jelly. A good rub down in dead sea mud from head to toe, let it dry in the baking sun, wash it off in the salty jelly and your skin is a new! As soft as silk but smells like horse manure.

Where we went next was most definitely the highlight for me, even more than Petra. We went inside the canyons of Wadi Mujib near Dhiban. The most incredible place i have ever seen is also the lowest nature reserve in the world. We walked through canyons up to our waists in fresh flowing water with the canyons reaching 3,000 feet above us and only little slits of sky and sunlight searing through. Birds occasionally swoop down, breeds i have never seen before and probably won't ever again. Nests the size of a sofa made of branches and sticks were planted high above in the crevices of the canyons, unfortunately i didn't see the bird who belonged to these houses. We were the only four people there for some of the walk and it was more spiritual than any mosque, church or synagogue for me. It takes approximately 2 days to complete the walk of this particular canyon, and we did what we could in a few hours. It's dangerous at times, and extremely taxing when you have to negotiate rocks and climbs which also have fast flowing water tearing down from them. A series of low waterfalls, each ending in a whirlpool which makes a great natural jacuzzi. Some climbs i stood beneath and looked up and said, sorry guys, I can't do that, but in the end, after i saw them do it, I gave it a go, helped with ropes and some guys pushing from behind i managed and spurred on by Stefano's words of encouragement and telling me how proud he was of me. Every time i got to the top, i would lay my hands on my knees, bent over, gasp for breath and say, ''I'm posting this on my RA site when i get home''! Coming down was so much easier as you could lay down and body surf your way through the rocks and slide down the small waterfalls. Mishap number eight in fact could be Elisa's completely black and blue ass from body surfing and hitting her bum off the rocks, I didn't suffer from that at all, could have been the fact that I have inherited my mothers flat bum, looks like shit in jeans but how great for surfing it proved to be!

Petra, well what can I say about Petra that Karl Pilkington hasn't already covered. It's an incredible place, to think that people carved their homes, places of worship and burial tombs out of the actual mountains is too much for my little brain to comprehend. It is situated between the Red Sea and the Dead Sea and has been there since pre historic times. It is a completely carved city, carved out of the stone, hidden by towering sandstone mountains. Although uninhabited today, during ancient times, it was an important city, and was the main city of an ancient people called the Nabataens. I can't go into the history of Petra, mainly because i don't know it and it would take me a whole book to write and research it. I also can't get my head around the dates of when the actual city was built. I read that until they settled at Petra, the Nabateans were largely nomadic but they founded Petra around the 6th century BC and ruled over it until AD 100! That's just too old for me to understand, just as dounting as looking up at the stars, but how did these people manage to work so intricately on these monasteries and houses, what tools did they have? Unbelievable!!! Just believe me that it's no wonder that it's one of the seven wonders, and something you need, need, need to tick off in your bucket list. I sat on a mountain side in a small piece of shade to rest and wait for the others to come back as I couldn't manage any further at some point, and was joined by a woman called Adi. She told me she worked here in the mountains selling the jewellery her mother makes. She is a Bedouin and has ten children, one of which was 16 year old Mohammed who had hired us the mules and donkeys half way up the 1,000 step trail. Good business man, he knew we would be exhausted by then, on saying that i did end up screaming at the top of my lungs to get off the donkey as it felt safer to walk after i had witnessed one tumble down, poor old thing was exhausted, thankfully he only had water on his back and not a person. He was fine, a little rest and water and a scolding to the bedouin from Stefano for not letting him rest and he was back to work. Adi lit a fire and made me tea, a herb taken from the bushes around, some sugar and some boiling water and it was delicious. We talked for half and hour or more, mainly in sign language and translation from Mohammed who's English AND Italian was incredibly good considering he had only learnt it from tourists. She told me she was 40 years old which was astonishing, ten children and four grandchildren and the poor woman looked completely done, finished, exhausted. I was thinking back to my 40th birthday party, how i danced the night away, I felt young and vibrant and how our luck in life is only a question of where we are born. 

I took 14 billion photo's, which today i found difficult to choose which to share on Facebook. Hard to believe as i sit here and write this today, that yesterday I was in the canyons of Petra sharing tea and life stories with Adi.

So all in all a very successful trip, until next time my fellow adventurers. X

So all in all a very successful trip, until next time my fellow adventurers. X