tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3326200576247436192024-03-21T09:18:37.780-07:00the face of gracemy space to share my travels, thoughts, experiences and photos.thefaceofgracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18143970995251531519noreply@blogger.comBlogger27125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332620057624743619.post-49561216582775650562016-03-04T14:49:00.001-08:002016-03-04T15:37:01.197-08:00finding my way / existential angst <div style="text-align: justify;">
When I am struggling to put things into words, that is a problem because writing is the one thing that helps me to clear my head. I have a lot of questions – probably the same questions we are all asking ourselves. What am I doing with my life? What do I want to do with my life? What direction should I take? What am I interested in? What is the point? How can I make a difference? When all of these questions feel overwhelming it can be really hard, impossible in fact, to trust that things will just work out. I am a strong believer in the idea that the universe will take care of me if I let it. Perhaps that is naïve of me. But I don’t believe in a God, I don’t pray. And there are a lot of questions that cannot be answered. What is the meaning? Of life? Of anything? So having a bit of trust, a bit of hope somewhere, whether it is God or a spirit or the universe, it calms me. </div>
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I find it very easy to get lost in my tangled thoughts. And because I feel unable to straighten them out, I just start playing the victim, because that is easier to do. I think for me, the challenge is not to try to untangle and organize everything (literally and mentally) but to be okay with things as they are. And that is where trust comes in. </div>
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One morning, I woke and instantly felt nauseous, terrified by the thought of the day ahead. Every little thing caused me anxiety. And made me question ‘what is the point?’ Henry held me tight and said that I was experiencing some existential worries. Being stuck in my anxiety I did not ask what he meant by that. Today, the sun was out and the weather was a bit warmer and I felt okay. The worries, the questions, they don’t go away but I just feel stronger and more able to accept them. And so, I started reading a little about existential angst. </div>
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Funnily enough I ended up on a website called <a href="https://www.quora.com/What-is-the-meaning-of-existential-angst" target="_blank">Quora</a> (which Henry has been encouraging me to look at for months and months). Jeremy Arnold explains existential angst in terms that I think I can wrap my brain around… </div>
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The main schools of existentialism bond around the core idea that <b><i>existence precedes essence</i></b><i>, </i>which is to say that any descriptions of man are only historical and carry no value in defining what man might (or should) become. Man is whatever he decides to be. He has gone from a type of creature to a living experiment.<br />
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If true, that leaves all of us with a massive sense of responsibility; for we, by how we choose to live our lives, will redefine what it is to be a man. We have no guidebook, no scorecard, and no moorings. We are completely alone in our freedom, bearing infinite responsibility and yet without any possibility of feedback, criticism, or validation. <br />
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The exhilarating, unprocessable, and mostly crushing feeling of that realization? That's existential angst. </div>
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I began reading about Jean-Paul Satre's book Nausea. (It is so easy to buy things online!) So I guess that will arrive in the mail soon. I also began reading about some wonderful women who are doing their own things, pursuing what they are interested in and making a difference, a small one, but a difference nonetheless. And on top of that they have families to look after. I know that I am capable of doing that - of following my dreams and having a family. But, I don't know what my dreams are yet. I'm not sure what I am interested in. What do I want to pursue? </div>
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I always intend to write here with some kind of reminder to help me next time I face the same problems. So that next time I am inconsolable, paralysed by anxiety and unanswerable questions, I can look back and be reminded that it is okay. And it is okay. It hasn't changed. I haven't changed. I just feel stronger. As Henry so rightly reminded me today, these women are a good 10 years older than me and they have probably faced the same problems, had the same unanswered questions and come to the conclusion that it will happen. Whatever 'it' is. And once we find 'it' then we can pursue it.<br />
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But for now, I just need to be. And enjoy being. And be okay with it. I have to remember that I am not in a rush. Everything will happen in good time. Don't rush the precious moments that are happening today. Don't be so focused on what might or might not happen tomorrow.<br />
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It is a constant battle. A constant struggle. It doesn't get any easier, but I will get better at understanding it.<br />
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We are coming out the other side. The long winter is finally over. I feel a sense of hope. The seasons over here really affect me - this winter more than any others I have experienced. But I have made it. And for me, that is an achievement in itself.<br />
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thefaceofgracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18143970995251531519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332620057624743619.post-28401235594567130532016-01-27T11:15:00.004-08:002016-01-27T14:30:36.686-08:00Four Fs for happiness<div style="text-align: justify;">
Recently I have been feeling incredibly frustrated by the challenges life has been throwing at me (perhaps not challenges of life...perhaps challenges from the government). I don't even want to waste my energy going into it because it will just get me all riled up again. The point of this post is for me to see and be reminded of all the good things in my life, and to be thankful and remember that its not so bad. </div>
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The best things for me are friends, family, food and fresh air. </div>
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thefaceofgracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18143970995251531519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332620057624743619.post-69024070665832525092015-11-27T10:15:00.004-08:002015-11-27T10:33:04.647-08:00accept sadness and create your own happiness<div style="text-align: justify;">
I have been depressed. That doesn't mean that great things haven't been happening to me. That doesn't mean I have not smiled or laughed for the last few months. But my thoughts have been tangled, knotted up with my emotions and logic and the more I fought it, wondering why I was feeling that way, the tighter the knots became. I've had reasons to feel anxious and sad - we all do. Just reading the news gives you reasons to feel shit about the state of the world. Most of us feel completely helpless as individuals. But we can't take on the burden of the world, not by ourselves. </div>
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I can't take credit for what I am about to say. My most excellent Mum and my beautiful boy Henry (gosh, they are wise and patient) told me to <b>be kind</b>. I hear this a lot 'be kind...be kind'. Yeah whatever, we should all be nicer to each other, I know that. But we should also be kind to ourselves - and I have heard that a lot too. However, I am not the best at actually <i>being</i> kind to myself especially when I'm feeling down. That is a huge challenge in itself. I'm learning to accept sadness - not deny it - but also not dwell on it and not wallow in it. I'm trying to treat myself with kindness & forgiveness - I'm only human. I think when I'm feeling down there is a process I go through and all the stages are there but I choose when to move on to the next stage. It's not clear cut and I go up and down and backwards before moving forwards. </div>
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For me - these are the stages I feel I've gone through over the last few months. (I could draw an incredibly complicated diagram for this - with examples.) </div>
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<b>Trigger</b> (This could be one thing, a comment, a bad day or months of struggles.)</div>
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<b>Sadness</b> (The initial reaction or a feeling slowly seeping in over a longer period of time.)</div>
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<b>Confusion</b> (Why am I sad? What has caused this? Why has it happened to me - it's not fair! Or... i deserve this!)</div>
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<b>Worry, self loathing and blame</b> (You worry that you're sad and you dislike yourself for it - you might also dislike other people.)</div>
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<b>Realisation</b> (Okay - this is not fun for anybody. Something's gotta give! Sure, some shitty things have happened or maybe still are happening... But you know what, there are always going to be shitty things happening and there are always going to be excellent things happening. You choose the filter in which to see life through.)</div>
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<b>Decision</b> ("I feel shit!" - What the hell am I going to do about it?)</div>
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<b>Motivation</b> (I'm doing it! I'm making decisions and getting on with things because great things exist and if they don't... then I'll damn well make them exist.) </div>
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<b>Levelling</b> (All that sadness and then suddenly: revelation. Don't get worn out by that motivational high... shitty things will happen but take it in your stride.)</div>
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Oh goodness - doesn't that just simplify something that is ridiculously complex in an insultingly easy way. Why yes, it does. But no, it is definitely not that easy. Ah, the beauty of hindsight...</div>
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And as a little note for myself...</div>
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<i>Things that are challenging:</i></div>
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- being far away from my family and friends in Aus</div>
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- college, group work, assessments</div>
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- money & not being allowed to work</div>
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- relationships - its all a big learning curve </div>
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- how to fill my time</div>
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- learning about life</div>
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- having to turn down work</div>
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- figuring out who on earth you are</div>
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<i>Things to be grateful for:</i></div>
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- my family and friends, despite the distance</div>
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- Henry & his loving, welcoming family</div>
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- friends!</div>
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- college, group work, assessments - learning!</div>
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- money & not being allowed to work (but now I have time to volunteer)</div>
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- relationships - its all a big learning curve but I wouldn't change it for the world</div>
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- how to fill my time (now I'm going to stop talking about learning the ukulele & playing volleyball & just do it!)</div>
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- learning about life - wooooooaaaaahhh, what a crazy ride!</div>
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Oh...okay. So turns out there is a silver lining to pretty much everything...if you look.</div>
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Don't forget about these things...</div>
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thefaceofgracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18143970995251531519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332620057624743619.post-2092157243712649772015-09-10T23:23:00.000-07:002015-09-16T20:46:12.811-07:006 Weeks In Australia: The Original Home<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: inherit; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">After two years living, working and travelling in the UK and Europe, I have come home to Australia to visit my family, get a new Visa for England and organise myself and my things to move to England more permanently. It’s less than two weeks until I return to England (providing my Visa is approved). </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: inherit; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Coming home has been wonderful and challenging and has brought up a lot of emotions. During my first week back I felt really uncomfortable; so much has stayed exactly the same here. Part of me felt like the last two years hadn’t even happened; had I even been away? I’ve grown up a lot over the last couple of years; I’ve learnt a lot, experienced a lot, travelled a lot and become aware of other cultures and how people live. My priorities have changed, my wants and needs have changed, my perspective has changed. My outlook on life has changed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Travelling has helped me to see what is important. I have lived a privileged life. I have been lucky. I have been spoilt. I still am. I have things in my possession that I have no need for, no use for. Two years I ago I could not part with my </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">stuff</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. Moving around has shown me that stuff that is not important or useful and has no sentimental value is a burden. Coming back and unpacking all my boxes of stuff was so liberating. I don’t have this unhealthy and over the top attachment to stuff anymore. It was easier than I thought to sort my stuff out, to part with things that once were important, to pass things onto people who need it or appreciate it more than me, to keep just a couple of boxes full of memories and to select things to take back to England.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: inherit; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">However, it hasn’t all been easy. I have to sell my car. I do feel slightly silly about how attached I am to my car, but saying goodbye to her symbolises saying goodbye to something much more important than some metal and an engine on wheels. My first car gave me freedom and independence. Living 30 minutes out of town meant that I had to get a lift with my parents if I wanted to go anywhere. I got my first car for my birthday and all my family helped put in money for it. This car has gone to festivals, loaded up with tents and sleeping bags on the roof-racks. It’s pulled other peoples’ cars out of the mud. This car has gone to parties in the bush, hours away. It has jump started friends’ cars. It has had baby seats in it for looking after my nieces and nephews. It has carried all my things when I moved out of home. It’s picked friends and family up from the airport. It’s taken me to work everyday and allowed me to earn a living. I’ve learnt how to change a tyre, how to reverse parallel park and how to check my oil and water! I had this idea that I was going to have this car for a while. That I’d have it when I settled down. That I’d have my own baby seats in it. Yes, it may seem silly to have such an attachment to it, but I do, and it’ll be hard to see her go.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: inherit; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I guess packing up my things means that this is real, I am really properly moving back to England. And I am so excited about this. I love it there. But I also love it here. Being back has reminded me of all the things I love here, at home - The Original Home. The open space. The freedom. The warmth. The birds. The wallabies. The small community. Memories of growing up. The schools I went to. Waterholes we used to swim in. Mountains we used to climb. Friends we used to hang out with. I am saying goodbye to that part of life and moving onto the next bit. That is okay, but it has taken time to let it sink in, and to welcome the idea of new opportunities and possibilities life brings. I am looking forward to it.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: inherit; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">While I’ve been back in Aus I’ve caught up with a few old friends - the kind of friends that you might not see for a while, you might not keep in touch with, but they’re still your friends and that won’t change. I’ve been able to catch up with all my nieces and nephews; we’ve been playing and wrestling and cuddling. I’ve been spending lots of time outside. I’ve realised how much being cooped up inside affects me. Give me fresh air over screens any day. I got to explore my own town and surrounding areas and go swimming in waterholes I used to visit as a teenager. I got to be a tourist in my own country, adventuring around Sydney catching up with family. We had a picnic with my Aunt and cousin (on my Mum’s side) - we got to sit and eat and look out across Sydney Harbour with the Bridge and the Opera House sparkling in the sun. I got to see my 90 year old Grandpa! He is super cool. We ran to keep up with him tootling along on his scooter. We stayed with my Aunt & Uncle and my cousins (on my Dad’s side). We got to go on a little road trip to my brother’s farm south of Sydney. We got to stay in a caravan. I got up at dawn and watched the sun rise and listened to the rooster crow. We picked vegies from my brother’s farm to sell at the market. We picked vegies to make our dinner. We ate homemade vegan chocolate brownies made by my brother’s partner. We went to a party and carved spoons around the fire. We were well fed - our bodies and our souls. Thank you to my awesome family for looking after us so well!</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: inherit; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’ve applied for my Visa and so now it is just a waiting game. Fingers crossed it all goes smoothly. If all goes to plan I will be arriving in England on 24th September.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: inherit; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Thanks for visiting my little online space. Below are some photos from the last few weeks here in Australia. See you very soon! xxx</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqlJ8cuAieaIO4HpUM3wxqUFS758bDi0igRioPsfkFbjMCevzjM49r-croJeuQTVUjW4vnoUiv3zfG1OkiDqkcfTaQJ8fEEJGLce37PzpTReEdXLjwZJaDJT32K-m6xnVlJTmJZmF-xtxt/s1600/P8160284_Fotor+Lemon+Tree.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqlJ8cuAieaIO4HpUM3wxqUFS758bDi0igRioPsfkFbjMCevzjM49r-croJeuQTVUjW4vnoUiv3zfG1OkiDqkcfTaQJ8fEEJGLce37PzpTReEdXLjwZJaDJT32K-m6xnVlJTmJZmF-xtxt/s640/P8160284_Fotor+Lemon+Tree.jpg" width="426" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Lemon tree and chair</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNcFlm7WJ8pH5cASKYoO1Z6shh0oPGORMgquI8rW_UV4uHtTvrGNDW4JV-5l_dhV2xgN5x8DrhCGOkQn6Y5Q3R2KWt0RjW120u4tHYE_OnGl3Q9vipSwdPSyECg5GhDr1wh-rKUN8yvLqZ/s1600/P8160285_Fotor+Blue+Ute.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNcFlm7WJ8pH5cASKYoO1Z6shh0oPGORMgquI8rW_UV4uHtTvrGNDW4JV-5l_dhV2xgN5x8DrhCGOkQn6Y5Q3R2KWt0RjW120u4tHYE_OnGl3Q9vipSwdPSyECg5GhDr1wh-rKUN8yvLqZ/s640/P8160285_Fotor+Blue+Ute.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The old blue ute</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOG8kqQPvTeH03Mb_u35q6Z7dVFFxMh0ZzNdTRfdHGTk0fxLzQbhL_PWRS0SoQHowRJLh9AJLizy6uW3G7KusJM_mvnynOKy_PsZC9twiCtjmH27H9HVklXkpPusMp-OggZKtt5Wjch08p/s1600/P8160372_Fotor+Mt+Warning+.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOG8kqQPvTeH03Mb_u35q6Z7dVFFxMh0ZzNdTRfdHGTk0fxLzQbhL_PWRS0SoQHowRJLh9AJLizy6uW3G7KusJM_mvnynOKy_PsZC9twiCtjmH27H9HVklXkpPusMp-OggZKtt5Wjch08p/s640/P8160372_Fotor+Mt+Warning+.jpg" width="426" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Mt Warning</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh3gccAmQJJHB-rpXzhu5-QJr51xQIxfxiBW9HckQ7k6y70_ug18XPSaUqDFmXFhoa1pScHb0L7HCSPhhTa58dB373xA1-yiLSw5931RqVO0lHU_S6EbGkLwfN0oT8kARw4Zj7UiFJQo60/s1600/P8250593_Fotor+Joel+Beach+Jump.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh3gccAmQJJHB-rpXzhu5-QJr51xQIxfxiBW9HckQ7k6y70_ug18XPSaUqDFmXFhoa1pScHb0L7HCSPhhTa58dB373xA1-yiLSw5931RqVO0lHU_S6EbGkLwfN0oT8kARw4Zj7UiFJQo60/s640/P8250593_Fotor+Joel+Beach+Jump.jpg" width="426" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Joel in Byron Bay</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgONtgVDENqrpyV6KLW2L3wh_NJri0_CohtB7Xgdt9xtR-3C7A_TbGKbifMCwNlV49vs762MOHCIOjgHZ14__VQxXEhTOOe7A5U-FU8PbP-nHBsmOtgLeN-d85bwsvuZqnpGS5lK1tR8J2_/s1600/P8210434_Fotor+BW.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgONtgVDENqrpyV6KLW2L3wh_NJri0_CohtB7Xgdt9xtR-3C7A_TbGKbifMCwNlV49vs762MOHCIOjgHZ14__VQxXEhTOOe7A5U-FU8PbP-nHBsmOtgLeN-d85bwsvuZqnpGS5lK1tR8J2_/s640/P8210434_Fotor+BW.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">River</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDhiYyzaIPiy7SQR-S2SzFqw_mkocD3ONwJ24Da-tXHAsSA9dbAmu0JWdQFGt__yHfpizsT7KUZ6FjhgIUVh0SDNBQLWD-_X97GbhErtBa9PsVOK4Jh0xI5LpcrgkY_NvB4sARxbEv0bNJ/s1600/P8210436_Fotor+BW.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDhiYyzaIPiy7SQR-S2SzFqw_mkocD3ONwJ24Da-tXHAsSA9dbAmu0JWdQFGt__yHfpizsT7KUZ6FjhgIUVh0SDNBQLWD-_X97GbhErtBa9PsVOK4Jh0xI5LpcrgkY_NvB4sARxbEv0bNJ/s640/P8210436_Fotor+BW.jpg" width="426" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Mish</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd1htV_xIf_PPGyhUHL6fZHPAnc1N27j5iKWLJO5wmHQIlE-fCTKgohBJ7uRdp2tRm2mfp1IvEV0GkKuqjDzOs7huE0-sk2idaes6SxMoKA1toCo4InNy9H5JJBIJEMzt_knTHAD1MGZlY/s1600/P8210447_Fotor+Grace+River+BW.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd1htV_xIf_PPGyhUHL6fZHPAnc1N27j5iKWLJO5wmHQIlE-fCTKgohBJ7uRdp2tRm2mfp1IvEV0GkKuqjDzOs7huE0-sk2idaes6SxMoKA1toCo4InNy9H5JJBIJEMzt_knTHAD1MGZlY/s640/P8210447_Fotor+Grace+River+BW.jpg" width="426" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">River and me</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmc1fVMt0npG5t6Ajo8HDpHjyiRzzhyphenhyphenU1B2XRykEJR-k9JpOp9VttmTjup0XwRjczE1hmqf3V2K9EZBjzau6UpRT9cXXZrcwt1Drrx0z0ZfHZL-wrBkGP6bdNbr0CAB0Ab8suG3Qn-nCNk/s1600/P8240525_Fotor+Grace+Libby+Creek+BW.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmc1fVMt0npG5t6Ajo8HDpHjyiRzzhyphenhyphenU1B2XRykEJR-k9JpOp9VttmTjup0XwRjczE1hmqf3V2K9EZBjzau6UpRT9cXXZrcwt1Drrx0z0ZfHZL-wrBkGP6bdNbr0CAB0Ab8suG3Qn-nCNk/s640/P8240525_Fotor+Grace+Libby+Creek+BW.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Libby and me</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0xy8_e0Wz6o6U2bD7lLJ4FjWmHgB6YDuc7uYUV2utpa2pNAwTYPXUNjDu9Ev4kGRnUBI7FI_u8xyka4anvZottam51KS4FV245GIe8xv2LGUPgok-fEySzj0TRO0fkUK-jMoZa3AVTzbU/s1600/IMG_3983_Fotor+Plane.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0xy8_e0Wz6o6U2bD7lLJ4FjWmHgB6YDuc7uYUV2utpa2pNAwTYPXUNjDu9Ev4kGRnUBI7FI_u8xyka4anvZottam51KS4FV245GIe8xv2LGUPgok-fEySzj0TRO0fkUK-jMoZa3AVTzbU/s640/IMG_3983_Fotor+Plane.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Flying into Sydney</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwnuJo3CmV7gnm_ckVidFtMTHyC5Bw8_wOu4RfJj6CTj-KeXWnAn_dPtbWRVy6HL_fNu10OC7gvOUa1yR9ikv3eJtWKk74hlEvnJj4uYAAxngw8ld15bAx638iwZurRbRYGzeWQSSz_XR7/s1600/P8290677_Fotor+Sydney+Harbour+Bridge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwnuJo3CmV7gnm_ckVidFtMTHyC5Bw8_wOu4RfJj6CTj-KeXWnAn_dPtbWRVy6HL_fNu10OC7gvOUa1yR9ikv3eJtWKk74hlEvnJj4uYAAxngw8ld15bAx638iwZurRbRYGzeWQSSz_XR7/s640/P8290677_Fotor+Sydney+Harbour+Bridge.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Picnic looking out across Sydney Harbour</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFrH-pQGlSj38JQsja_TOhr8O43028WtQ34dv44dUGCHCQ0uTJgIISKVdasDlfbL-UNId2mpoOrX6eB7fQWha6BOn7CnqW-1KPgXx-4NpYfjDp4Yu1BVkUhz-fK6dPAXMop_X6u6GgRYPS/s1600/P8310721_Fotor+Opera+House.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFrH-pQGlSj38JQsja_TOhr8O43028WtQ34dv44dUGCHCQ0uTJgIISKVdasDlfbL-UNId2mpoOrX6eB7fQWha6BOn7CnqW-1KPgXx-4NpYfjDp4Yu1BVkUhz-fK6dPAXMop_X6u6GgRYPS/s640/P8310721_Fotor+Opera+House.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The Opera House</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvItPJH-MwufbJZ8AhT40vTLv86ON8lR8-V95Y2bxnFAAcwhgymFE69CM0DWjITf68sDtqk2BYB2CFuOtSqGOdrMrM9HPb1MQ_554XIyqYZSiuLc6f3cfLWhaz47gR2e2zs0jOUMOdJ5Si/s1600/IMG_4020_Fotor+Sydney+Tower.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvItPJH-MwufbJZ8AhT40vTLv86ON8lR8-V95Y2bxnFAAcwhgymFE69CM0DWjITf68sDtqk2BYB2CFuOtSqGOdrMrM9HPb1MQ_554XIyqYZSiuLc6f3cfLWhaz47gR2e2zs0jOUMOdJ5Si/s640/IMG_4020_Fotor+Sydney+Tower.jpg" width="512" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">View from Sydney Tower</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibo4R3RVW_2YrfmW7c7T4-x7K4zbkmyv98HWXSs68UydEWlG30ktZVJmGLpU7GhtkxkiDLyt5pAS1_J3GLzazn5uUgiyHXvIiXr4bVdXg-PIy486FiVZHBH9qoF4R10Ic-l5cxeCdb3Bub/s1600/P9020766_Fotor+Grandpa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibo4R3RVW_2YrfmW7c7T4-x7K4zbkmyv98HWXSs68UydEWlG30ktZVJmGLpU7GhtkxkiDLyt5pAS1_J3GLzazn5uUgiyHXvIiXr4bVdXg-PIy486FiVZHBH9qoF4R10Ic-l5cxeCdb3Bub/s640/P9020766_Fotor+Grandpa.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Grandpa!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3nkHBmFfhH0yJbK6NJeV3nMmRXWBN3VAar2aEC8x2Pwud54rUZPWI25hgPNbvZetl5qhQAkMuJ234ECD-OIj6w0kGLaOzPtp1DTcQ166GWmsJr9pO6KB8n2BcYFtlj5sDwi7Dq5ZUAx6Z/s1600/IMG_4224_Fotor+Road.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3nkHBmFfhH0yJbK6NJeV3nMmRXWBN3VAar2aEC8x2Pwud54rUZPWI25hgPNbvZetl5qhQAkMuJ234ECD-OIj6w0kGLaOzPtp1DTcQ166GWmsJr9pO6KB8n2BcYFtlj5sDwi7Dq5ZUAx6Z/s640/IMG_4224_Fotor+Road.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">On the road to Cobargo through Kangaroo Valley</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQwNbcVGH29rJAHe4E54OOdgF7JI2QXBQDC3c8MRp9k1sCjcv6x6vtDkaI1qr1dVenyOuphyphenhyphenBc20DryI9DGAM-XB_6giRx3-f9TFZ-EVbfT2mvYYTU2stQyK4slUuct90UfOWzE-CyS6g9/s1600/IMG_4168_Fotor+Caravan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQwNbcVGH29rJAHe4E54OOdgF7JI2QXBQDC3c8MRp9k1sCjcv6x6vtDkaI1qr1dVenyOuphyphenhyphenBc20DryI9DGAM-XB_6giRx3-f9TFZ-EVbfT2mvYYTU2stQyK4slUuct90UfOWzE-CyS6g9/s640/IMG_4168_Fotor+Caravan.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The Caravan</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4wHuFaKnlXIP7rDZRwZbm2HLD3SmERZ0UZHNQ8C8EpaJCJdDQGV7J0E-0ZvgLPbrT4O_A1HyLZ9X4STtDjSHfgsJe_VHPUGgl7Wox3LKxPqC-dpjWWl-q1qoXHpETU_41RLSKkymdy7fh/s1600/P9030776_Fotor+TTT.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4wHuFaKnlXIP7rDZRwZbm2HLD3SmERZ0UZHNQ8C8EpaJCJdDQGV7J0E-0ZvgLPbrT4O_A1HyLZ9X4STtDjSHfgsJe_VHPUGgl7Wox3LKxPqC-dpjWWl-q1qoXHpETU_41RLSKkymdy7fh/s640/P9030776_Fotor+TTT.jpg" width="426" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Washing vegies</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtnwl1xXezGImSfUVzrhdP4ZymnFwbcmizEoX0aUdGB0N6qrrouyYDUmtXpJ5PvTCG1nqfcO0oiUNaI1HfslTLbVRUHYVl2dMI_PmD0mOHIzM6mVVUbb1FI1saceSHPcBigoD-L7eyOY4K/s1600/P9040789_Fotor+TTT+Market.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtnwl1xXezGImSfUVzrhdP4ZymnFwbcmizEoX0aUdGB0N6qrrouyYDUmtXpJ5PvTCG1nqfcO0oiUNaI1HfslTLbVRUHYVl2dMI_PmD0mOHIzM6mVVUbb1FI1saceSHPcBigoD-L7eyOY4K/s640/P9040789_Fotor+TTT+Market.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Thea selling fresh home grown produce from Fishbone Farm</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv5Jjs6sTb5CI0YmP00NMCLcTTzGR1jzb0aTl4NNmWFJp0BXik4EjJNFTTR1KAdWTBmaiLNHoOwG4S7xOfyQrmfgs8lqyqPRsrnba8DgcNihvJ0GcRSzYY0YWAd1_R3PvvwsdEwlo-4g5p/s1600/P9040794_Fotor+colour+TTT.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv5Jjs6sTb5CI0YmP00NMCLcTTzGR1jzb0aTl4NNmWFJp0BXik4EjJNFTTR1KAdWTBmaiLNHoOwG4S7xOfyQrmfgs8lqyqPRsrnba8DgcNihvJ0GcRSzYY0YWAd1_R3PvvwsdEwlo-4g5p/s640/P9040794_Fotor+colour+TTT.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">One of the dams at Fishbone Farm</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMHE8LzKXnAWJiNh1cUXn3Hw_e3hoZqPBESMJEypaBBvB-yE9TEER85c77tWvmrYfe6kOc7EuWDSNgyDX6jI8WtMKJeW81uzRvRGr8g2TI4QW5KVeBceNwH5oxSOOKkOgCv0XJzdXkfu_-/s1600/IMG_4167_Fotor+Sunrise.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMHE8LzKXnAWJiNh1cUXn3Hw_e3hoZqPBESMJEypaBBvB-yE9TEER85c77tWvmrYfe6kOc7EuWDSNgyDX6jI8WtMKJeW81uzRvRGr8g2TI4QW5KVeBceNwH5oxSOOKkOgCv0XJzdXkfu_-/s640/IMG_4167_Fotor+Sunrise.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Sunrise through the trees</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyZVENL9xyU5YTxpCzJMxpjATKIqiCnNZQhYJXn1TWZcmibMB3zznAhjstRKUZp3tjvA7ApWi7It8-Y-hclk4RWtx3PU-s3p7S7wUj2d92Zh1SXoXT2JJk3u0akzGJDyWHtNCuwuIaq451/s1600/P9050883_Fotor+Sunrise.jpg" imageanchor="1"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyZVENL9xyU5YTxpCzJMxpjATKIqiCnNZQhYJXn1TWZcmibMB3zznAhjstRKUZp3tjvA7ApWi7It8-Y-hclk4RWtx3PU-s3p7S7wUj2d92Zh1SXoXT2JJk3u0akzGJDyWHtNCuwuIaq451/s640/P9050883_Fotor+Sunrise.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8-9PXjON0mdeojFjDga8yfim_UbHjyuEvokDV3JhlJ5NrArDQvaKhF4iRTaZF0jIX_LgMA8TN8dbKJntuO5Ia84xQJfthOg0AC5ns-yoKXIim4ffTh8VT9F7-eouy26nE9nnso-lzAQHI/s1600/P9050935_Fotor+Sunrise.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8-9PXjON0mdeojFjDga8yfim_UbHjyuEvokDV3JhlJ5NrArDQvaKhF4iRTaZF0jIX_LgMA8TN8dbKJntuO5Ia84xQJfthOg0AC5ns-yoKXIim4ffTh8VT9F7-eouy26nE9nnso-lzAQHI/s640/P9050935_Fotor+Sunrise.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCIKExAPUpj21fCfKeakrBZFloOzn5bOseyg8sZMFVN88rrbA3hxd4rH-5rXkvYnOaDJgqgoMHp2_wifjq1UOLrXNOkNtxz1sGTESmjmx0HX2khY9JtYowjcBGWDYrUcfRCxcZ8YrmaDg7/s1600/IMG_4200_Fotor+Boats+Bermagui.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCIKExAPUpj21fCfKeakrBZFloOzn5bOseyg8sZMFVN88rrbA3hxd4rH-5rXkvYnOaDJgqgoMHp2_wifjq1UOLrXNOkNtxz1sGTESmjmx0HX2khY9JtYowjcBGWDYrUcfRCxcZ8YrmaDg7/s640/IMG_4200_Fotor+Boats+Bermagui.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Bermagui Wharf</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD0ln2o5pbZXAJLDdFEdfrRoUQx9Pkbt_NYcLMJQ-86-bw-vjDTey2QIcmaRtyJwdhyphenhyphenHiUbNTOsSVmCuFnD-ecTOjUr2METFgf-s73gsUw9D6aG-ri8qoJH9PKeJhsh0K9s5KrneOWwJmU/s1600/IMG_4206_Fotor+Nelson%2527s+Bay.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD0ln2o5pbZXAJLDdFEdfrRoUQx9Pkbt_NYcLMJQ-86-bw-vjDTey2QIcmaRtyJwdhyphenhyphenHiUbNTOsSVmCuFnD-ecTOjUr2METFgf-s73gsUw9D6aG-ri8qoJH9PKeJhsh0K9s5KrneOWwJmU/s640/IMG_4206_Fotor+Nelson%2527s+Bay.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Nelson's Bay</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5OMIIrrL8y_sd-z324_QMMa27QZ6eLmM_mpQqKJYMkNxuV-jxZOfnelAMcDWffagnrIs-jId4nWA4MMyygWRa5eiAKUxIzxamnjDXx7bWcAhtr44Z_dA-ZH5o73l8sTiPPblEAsq-WR4O/s1600/P9050961_Fotor+Nelson%2527s+Bay.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5OMIIrrL8y_sd-z324_QMMa27QZ6eLmM_mpQqKJYMkNxuV-jxZOfnelAMcDWffagnrIs-jId4nWA4MMyygWRa5eiAKUxIzxamnjDXx7bWcAhtr44Z_dA-ZH5o73l8sTiPPblEAsq-WR4O/s640/P9050961_Fotor+Nelson%2527s+Bay.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">L-R: Thea, my brother Tim, Joel & my oldest nephew Tal at Nelson's Bay</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKfce8r5-vGZH_F_Y8qdALoXO5HCeZBaxMJA5aE1Jull4Uoqlq9k2gDMTzpgO2tEPuH7tM-ZAIKGxauJGUrsjp0XoETzUvRWo5UdHBS-EwfAaLF0XlCSoGgXwgK-oUXFUmuSj4uhCSPfTE/s1600/P9050973_Fotor+Nelson%2527s+Bay.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKfce8r5-vGZH_F_Y8qdALoXO5HCeZBaxMJA5aE1Jull4Uoqlq9k2gDMTzpgO2tEPuH7tM-ZAIKGxauJGUrsjp0XoETzUvRWo5UdHBS-EwfAaLF0XlCSoGgXwgK-oUXFUmuSj4uhCSPfTE/s640/P9050973_Fotor+Nelson%2527s+Bay.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Nelson's Bay</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg65UweABUBIyKPyz2F7XGuuCRJwzoPb0BOq8Jv1sAfJc3oKn59wewa1Jxxqm7nNbgzqnL0-TfyTWF36T4KP31KJ4HYW4aMM-MU9i2aiIS5S7Nw3wCV6d5CYK4QsjKLgqxGU551-s4nnlWS/s1600/P9050975_Fotor+GJ+Nelson%2527s+Bay.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg65UweABUBIyKPyz2F7XGuuCRJwzoPb0BOq8Jv1sAfJc3oKn59wewa1Jxxqm7nNbgzqnL0-TfyTWF36T4KP31KJ4HYW4aMM-MU9i2aiIS5S7Nw3wCV6d5CYK4QsjKLgqxGU551-s4nnlWS/s640/P9050975_Fotor+GJ+Nelson%2527s+Bay.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Nelson's Bay</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfZ2CtC8r29QucJIQgkCoV7HCo-H53Gs_It6gcvOq2qQhF5la_nXmsJkIueG3RcCXeXLHPl8nSUBMoiUVKPC2EVbFpusuY54l2tZA4IYa3tqhpDRhcbB7mzGVitbMuzBMMMqfBr3a017nW/s1600/P9050981_Fotor+Bega+Party.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfZ2CtC8r29QucJIQgkCoV7HCo-H53Gs_It6gcvOq2qQhF5la_nXmsJkIueG3RcCXeXLHPl8nSUBMoiUVKPC2EVbFpusuY54l2tZA4IYa3tqhpDRhcbB7mzGVitbMuzBMMMqfBr3a017nW/s640/P9050981_Fotor+Bega+Party.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Party near Bega</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0zJWy-iPAR-BwH1ye46Fzw6K8pu6my54d4XpLlTedOGr-O5so8GCGYVFkxgFRy4hbhdUyNeTAacq38WVSBNXVEWyGV5wqhnspMqKPDRB414prqpUHGFHFmNIfNd4y949iSQZHUzcvDAWn/s1600/P9051020_Fotor+Bega+Party.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0zJWy-iPAR-BwH1ye46Fzw6K8pu6my54d4XpLlTedOGr-O5so8GCGYVFkxgFRy4hbhdUyNeTAacq38WVSBNXVEWyGV5wqhnspMqKPDRB414prqpUHGFHFmNIfNd4y949iSQZHUzcvDAWn/s640/P9051020_Fotor+Bega+Party.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Party near Bega</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5ljFgQb35vf8ttsUlqrtEHImelLHO1Nn7EgtI_LvrrOx0Fv62maMEl_U589pH3IOP89i1wUPRuEP9CT5CvbJUQyGsbMStSmDWpU2umHHszqDudtaiTCSBiGOWzr9yJjAlHj6KZBWyuU9y/s1600/P9051026_Fotor+Bega+Party.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5ljFgQb35vf8ttsUlqrtEHImelLHO1Nn7EgtI_LvrrOx0Fv62maMEl_U589pH3IOP89i1wUPRuEP9CT5CvbJUQyGsbMStSmDWpU2umHHszqDudtaiTCSBiGOWzr9yJjAlHj6KZBWyuU9y/s640/P9051026_Fotor+Bega+Party.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Party near Bega</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Saying goodbye</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Saying goodbye</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The best brother</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Party near Bega</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Party near Bega</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Tim and Thea</span></td></tr>
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<br />thefaceofgracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18143970995251531519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332620057624743619.post-28588523089257663882015-06-18T02:47:00.003-07:002015-07-24T07:10:30.754-07:0010 days in morocco<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
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My friends Nick & Josh and I just spent some time in Morocco experiencing all the wonderful and challenging things that come with immersing yourself in another culture. Morocco is definitely very different to anywhere I have ever been before and although the trip was fantastic and we learnt a lot - there are a few things that would have been useful to know or be aware of before going.. So this post is going to be full of tips and tricks for making the most of being in this beautiful country as well as the things we did while we were there.</div>
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We arrived in hot, sunny Morocco, fresh off the plane and exchanged our pounds to dirhams - the two exchange places inside the airport before customs had the same exchange rate but one was really busy. The exchange places after customs had a slightly better rate. I'm not sure if this is always the case but if possible, compare the rate instead of just jumping in the queue. (Obviously once you've gone through customs you cannot come back through, but bear in mind there are other places to exchange your pounds within the airport.) (At this point I was already ill with severe period pain and had had a difficult flight, made worse by the fact that we had no sleep as we had to wait in the airport all night for our 6am flight.)</div>
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I had read online that you could get the airport bus (number 19) from the terminal to the main square/marketplace, Jemaa el-Fnaa for 30D but that if you wanted the cheaper option of getting the normal bus (number 11) to the square for 4D you would have to walk out past the taxis to the road and wait. We decided to give it a go. Unfortunately we didn't know which direction the centre was so we weren't sure which side of the road to wait on. We waited on one side and asked the driver of bus number 12 if we were in the right place and he told us to wait on the other side, so we crossed 4 lanes of traffic. We waited for a while but no buses were stopping on this side at all... and then we saw the number 11 pull up back where we had been standing... Of course by the time we had crossed back it had gone. We then asked the driver of the 33 bus and he said we were waiting in the correct place and that they were frequent... However, we waited for what seemed like ages in the blazing hot sun, weighed down by our bags and no bus turned up. (By this point I was feeling very weak and nauseous and just wanted to get to our Riad.) Eventually we decided to get a taxi costing us 100D which took us right into the square, quite near to our Riad. So the outcome of that is... the airport bus might be more expensive, but it is reliable and hassle-free. (Our friend Josh who arrived the day after got the 19 and said it was very simple.)</div>
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Nick and I spent the day catching up on sleep and staying out of the hot sun before we ventured out in the cool of the evening. We were lucky to be staying in a good Riad called <a href="http://www.booking.com/hotel/ma/sindi-sud.en-gb.html?aid=303948;label=ma-marrakech-sPrcK_TH39XP0v2lbBSdqgS61939998381%3Apl%3Ata%3Ap11160%3Ap2%3Aac%3Aap1t1%3Aneg;sid=ff1672c4c29097ef7b96a7f409883270;dcid=4;errorc_checkin_date_in_the_past=checkin_daysfromnow;errorc_checkin_date_in_the_past=checkin_year;errorc_checkin_date_in_the_past=checkin_month;errorc_checkin_date_in_the_past=checkin_monthday;errorc_checkin_date_in_the_past=checkin_yearday;errorc_checkin_date_in_the_past=checkin_week;errorc_checkin_date_in_the_past=checkin_year_month;errorc_checkin_date_in_the_past=checkin_year_week;errorc_checkin_date_in_the_past=checkin_year_month_monthday;errorc_checkin_date_in_the_past=checkin;errorc_checkin_date_in_the_past=checkin_year_yearday;errorv_checkout_monthday=5;errorv_checkin_year_month=2015-6;errorv_do_availability_check=1;errorv_checkin_monthday=3;errorv_tab=1;errorv_origin=hp;errorv_checkout_year_month=2015-6;errorv_type=total" target="_blank">Sindi Sud</a> (recommended to me by my sister) located right near the square (see my review <a href="https://secure.booking.com/reviewtimeline.en-gb.html?aid=311076;label=sindi-sud-aPINXlMa%2AhIUZLI91RlN6wS32281128660%3Apl%3Ata%3Ap1%3Ap2%3Aac%3Aap1t1%3Aneg;sid=6cda03dc0aeced56230de087a6e15fcb;dcid=4" target="_blank">here</a>). We wandered around the square, completely overwhelmed by the sights, sounds and smells. Traditional music, vendors selling their wares, shouting out to potential customers, snake charmers playing their pungis (instruments). We found ourselves being directed to the tanneries for the "Last Day of the Berber Market" by a man who said it was on the way to his home and he would take us. Naively, we followed where we were then greeted by another man, very well dressed in a pressed, white collared shirt who handed us generous sprigs of mint for our noses. We were given a guided tour of the tanneries ending at a shop selling leather goods and handmade carpets for a "good price, good price". Neither of us were ready to spend any money yet and the rugs were far too big. We declined apologetically before being pushed out of the shop. Our guide then asked us for 100D...each. And, being unprepared for this, we handed over our money before finding our way back to the square..</div>
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As a general rule, especially in busy, touristy areas like Marrakesh, if someone offers to take you somewhere, be it to the last day of a market (for some reason it is <i>always</i> the last day - fancy that!) or to your Riad or to the main square.. decline. Unfortunately a lot of the time, what seems like Moroccans showing generosity and good will is actually an opportunity for them to make money. We learnt the hard way, but didn't make that mistake again. It did make me a little sad to be so distrustful of people, and unfortunately they are just doing what they can to make a living, but when you're travelling on a budget every little bit of money counts! The best phrase that we learnt was "La shukran" which means "No thank you" or for very persistent vendors you can say "La la la" which means "No no no". We noticed that, as Westerners, if we continued to say "no thank you" in English, anyone hassling us would ignore us and keep hassling. However, as soon as we said "La shukran", and said it with confidence, they backed off. This made things considerably easier!</div>
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Having talked about persistent shop keepers and expensive surprise guided tours, I have to say that we did meet some truly lovely, genuine people too. And generally, once you get to know Moroccans they are wonderful and helpful. We made friends with Abdul who worked in a restaurant near our Riad in Marrakesh. He taught us useful phrases and recommended we visit the restaurant his brother Hakim works in in Fes (which we visited a couple of times - and it was good!) We would see Abdul pretty much every time we went in or out from the Riad. He was very obliging, always sharing mint tea with us and telling us terrible jokes in his very blasé and slightly distracted manner. We also met Ali in a dress shop in the square. A very sweet 19 year old boy (who looked much younger than 19); he was very helpful when Nick and I bought some nice traditional clothes, but continued to be helpful and obliging every time we passed his shop or came back to say hello. He was great at recommending places the locals go to buy things (like spices) and also helped me to get a good price for a full body massage at a nice Hammam. Ali had a particular knack for taking us down strange allies and back streets but we got good deals and had a nice time exploring.</div>
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My two favourite things about Marrakesh were the freshly squeezed orange juice served in real glasses, not plastic, for 4D and the Call to Prayer. The best part of our Riad was the split level roof terrace. We would go up there of an evening to sit and read or write, and watch the sun set. It was amazing to hear the Call to Prayer; it would start in one Mosque and then slowly but surely, spread across the city until the whole sky was filled with the sound of prayer. (Later in our trip, when we stayed in small towns and villages where there was only one Mosque, it was quite strange to only be able to hear the one chant.)</div>
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After a couple of days in Marrakesh, Nick, Josh and I got the train to Fes costing us 95D (second class) for a 7hr train journey. We managed to get seats - in second there are separate compartments with 8 seats in each, first come, first served. In first class you get a reserved seat but the ticket costs double. The journey was long and hot, and for much of it, very cramped. Lots of people and luggage in the aisles, many people sharing seats. Good preparation for India - doors and windows open, people hanging out. Moving about the train was near impossible. At one point I got up to try to go to the toilet and had to struggle past everyone and their luggage in the aisle. I got to the end where there were two big men who refused to let me past... Even when I said "toilet"or "toilette" they still refused. Well, I stood there awkwardly, busting for a wee, wondering what to do. Another man came along and I heard him say "toilette". I got his attention and said "me too, but they won't let me past". He took my arm and pushed both of us through, moved people out of the way and opened the toilet door for me. When I came out, he insisted on escorting me back to my seat, without using the toilet himself! (Chivalry is not dead!) I guess I should mention that the toilets don't drain into a tank, it all just goes straight onto the tracks... so don't use them while you're stopped at stations, and don't drop anything!</div>
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Personally, I preferred Fez to Marrakesh. It's less touristy, or feels less touristy. It feels more spacious than Marrakesh.. But, in saying that we didn't venture much further than the Medina in Marrakesh and we did in Fez. Perhaps we were still finding our feet. We stayed in fantastic <a href="http://www.booking.com/hotel/ma/riad-baba.en-gb.html?aid=311076;label=riad-baba-Apr9SS2Z4cX7xPjY%2Ahs2bgS40633132637%3Apl%3Ata%3Ap1%3Ap2%3Aac%3Aap1t1%3Aneg;sid=6cda03dc0aeced56230de087a6e15fcb;dcid=4;dist=0;srfid=00083488807247dcd83c64980806c8029d99ad0cX1;type=total;ucfs=1&" target="_blank">Riad Baba</a> - yet another beautiful example of Moroccan architecture, with gorgeous mosaics and a spacious bedroom with an ensuite and breakfast included. And the staff were super friendly ladies.</div>
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We really enjoyed wandering up and down all the souks perusing the stalls and observing the hustle and bustle of everyday life. I love watching the way people interact with each other. There is a great deal of affection and respect between Moroccans, but there is also this really jovial side, lots of laughter and shouting, but not in an aggressive way, though sometimes it is hard to tell. On our first day we visited Jardin Jnan Sbil where we spent time enjoying being somewhere so lush and green after the cobbled and paved jungle that is Marrakesh. This beautiful garden had a lake and fountains, orange trees, bamboo, cacti, roses and curly kale! We continued exploring, winding our way to Blue Gate where we had lunch at the restaurant our friend Abdul recommended. (Unfortunately his brother wasn't working that day!) </div>
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Eating vegan food turned out to be easier than I had expected. I ate a lot of vegie tagines, but that was okay! Josh headed back to Marrakesh for a night before he flew back to the UK and Nick and I stayed on in Fez. We discovered a fantastic place to eat and hang out in one of the little side streets in Fez. <a href="http://cafeclock.com/" target="_blank">Cafe Clock</a> has the most divine food (quite pricey by Moroccan standards, but worth it), delicious drinks, music, a cinema, cooking classes and the option to get some henna... Nick enjoyed a Lassi and a Falafel and I had Fresh Mint Lemonade (possibly the most delicious drink ever) followed by a delectable gazpacho soup with avocado on toast. </div>
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After our second day of exploring Fez we started preparing ourselves for our 4 Day Desert Tour. We were collected early in the morning by our guide Mustapha and driver Borak who are the most fantastic, obliging gentlemen. The desert tour packed so much into so little time - it is all a bit of a blur and I'm not even 100% sure where we went or on which day! The first day involved a lot of driving from Fez to the Erg Chebbi dunes, with stops at some really beautiful places on the way (including Ifrane, Arzou the cedar forests of the Middle Atlas Mountains, Midelt, the Ziz Valley Gorge, Erfoud and Rissani). We had the choice to add an extra day to our trip, which was a great decision as it meant we could actually relax and make the most of being in one place for a bit longer, rather than driving constantly.</div>
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For me, the camel trek into the desert was by far the highlight. After a morning of driving (out to the Algerian border to have tea with a traditional Berber Nomad and her 6 year old son Hassan) we returned to <a href="http://www.booking.com/hotel/ma/riadmamouche.en-gb.html?aid=311076;label=riadmamouche-MWukuN4mnraKAXSd2WEGkQS16034209980%3Apl%3Ata%3Ap1%3Ap2%3Aac%3Aap1t1%3Aneg;sid=6cda03dc0aeced56230de087a6e15fcb;dcid=4;dist=0;srfid=2ed22bf9684d6f663988be6f747943c6bd64611cX1;type=total;ucfs=1&" target="_blank">Riad Mamouche</a> to get organised (ie. have lunch and relax by the pool). We set off on our Dromedaries (Arabian camels) a couple of hours before sunset and slowly padded over the dunes, awestruck by the expanse of orange open space and the clear blue sky above us. We were joined by another group of people on their Dromedaries and their barefoot guides. We wandered together for a while before going to our separate camps in the dunes. </div>
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Nick and I explored the dunes and watched the beautiful sunset before we went back to our camp. We were treated to an absolutely exquisite dinner cooked by our Dromedary guide (also called Borak). Unfortunately I already had a stomach ache and back pain. Borak was quite concerned. He made me lie down on my stomach and he did something to my back, some sort of pulling and pushing the muscle around my spinal cord. I lay down for a while and when I got up the pain in my back was gone. I tried to eat some of the steaming hot vegetable tagine he made me (which was absolutely delicious, making it even more disappointing that I couldn't eat it!) Unfortunately, I just had to leave it.. </div>
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The night sky was just incomprehensibly beautiful. I have never seen anything quite like it. There are no words to describe it. Of course when given the chance to spend a night in the desert, one must spend some time lying on the dunes, alone, gazing up in pure wonderment. And so I did. I snuggled in to the sand, still warm, holding the heat of the day, and looked up. I saw a couple of shooting stars and then gradually, eyes flickering, I fell asleep.</div>
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We woke early and ventured up onto the dunes to soak up the blue pre-dawn stillness. I went off and sat by myself for a moment, and I think that may have been my absolute favourite part of the whole journey. Sitting alone looking out across the desert. No breeze. No sounds. It was a kind of calm and tranquility that I could never have imagined and cannot describe. I felt like I was on another planet... As the sun rose up above the dunes, we watched the Dromedaries grazing and one of the guides from the other camp praying. It was a really special experience. Then, we went back down the dunes to the camp, collected our things and began the ride back...</div>
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Another long day of driving ensued, but of course we had many stops along the way, passing through the Palm Groves of Skoura on the way to Todra Gorge and then through Kelaa Mgouna, also known as Rose Valley. We enjoyed our last night at <a href="http://www.booking.com/hotel/ma/kasbah-la-cigogne.fr.html" target="_blank">Kasbah La Cigogne</a>; again relaxing by the pool, listening to the Call to Prayer and eating yet another great vegetable tagine looking out at other castle-like-Kasbahs. </div>
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Our last day of the tour had more driving of course - Skoura to Marrakesh via Quarzazate. A morning walk around Ait Ben-Haddou World Heritage Site - one of the most incredible fortified villages on the old Camel Caravan route. Then we gazed out the window as the desert rushed past and we saw the pink salt mines on our way to the traditional Berber village of Telouet. After lunch in Telouet, we drove up into the High Atlas Mountains on the highest Atlas road pass (Tizi-n-Tichka) where we could see many villages in the distance, built on the steep mountains. Borak navigated his way down the mountains - many hair-pin bends - until we arrived back in Marrakesh. We thanked Mustapha and Borak and said our goodbyes before heading back to Sindi Sud..</div>
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The last couple of days in Marrakesh were hard. The main square is such a busy place but it's all the same. Too many Orange Juice sellers, too many dress shops, too many souvenirs stalls, too many snake charmers, too many musicians. Everyone is competing. We wandered around in the evening but ended up just heading back to the Riad. I think two days in the square is more than enough to get a feel for it (and to spend your money!) Nick and I were both a bit under the weather. On our last night I got food poisoning and was up all night vomiting. The next morning when I checked our flight I saw that it was delayed. We were scheduled to be arriving back in the UK at 2:30am. Thankfully, luck was with us and the wifi was strong enough for me to Skype call the airline. They managed to squeeze us on the earlier flight arriving in the UK by 8:00pm and they didn't charge us!</div>
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It was a hard day feeling tired and sick and dehydrated, not really having any plain food to try to eat and not feeling particularly confident about drinking the water either... But, eventually we were on the flight and 3 hours later we landed in the UK. We were pleasantly surprised to see Nick's parents waiting to pick us up! So wonderful to be driven home and not have to faff about with trains!</div>
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There are a few more things I wanted to mention briefly that would have been helpful to know before heading to Morocco..</div>
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<li style="text-align: justify;"><u>Tipping and hidden costs:</u> when budgeting for your travels, always allow more money than you think you will need. This is a given, but I struggled a little with the currency and value of money. Firstly, when you exchange your money you will probably be given quite big denominations (100D or 200D notes) which can be hard to break - change seems to be a problem everywhere! Secondly, we didn't seem to get coins very often. Perhaps it was just because of what we were buying, but I would have found it a lot easier to have more coins rather than notes. Maybe if we were better organised we could have gone into a bank and swapped some of our notes for coins. (We found that exchange places won't do that.) Also, on one occasion, at Riad Baba we had to pay tax on top of what we had already been quoted for the room. This was fine, but something to be aware of. A lot of places also only take cash and although there are some ATMs around it is better to be organised and have a stash of cash as well. As for tipping, in a lot of places we just rounded the bill up (maybe this is why we didn't have many coins!) but similar to travelling anywhere, if we were really happy with the service provided we would give more. This was also the case in the Riads. Read <a href="http://www.tripadvisor.co.uk/Travel-g293730-s606/Morocco:Tipping.And.Etiquette.html" target="_blank">here</a> for more info.</li>
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<li style="text-align: justify;"><u>Bartering:</u> When we first got to Morocco I did not understanding bartering at all. The theory? Sure, but not in practice. Moroccan's like the hard sell. I am clearly not Moroccan, so whenever I showed an interest in something, shop keepers would always start high. Our guide told us that we should always halve the price they are asking. But that is not always the case. It really depends what you are buying. I got a beautiful Moroccan dress for 250D. That price included alterations to shorten and hem it. The asking price was 400D. Too much. After some to-ing and fro-ing we eventually decided on a price, but I had started at 150D. I also bought a small rug from a little stall out in the desert. Again, he started at 400D. He was harder to bargain with and it got to the point where I left the stall three times and each time he followed me out, until eventually he took my initial offer of 150D. For Nick and Josh, they also ended up leaving shops and being followed out. You just have to remember, you don't really need anything and its okay to walk out. And it's quite fun. I did have one experience where I had offered 50D for a necklace and then decided that 50D was still way too high and 10D would have been more appropriate. The shop keeper was asking 400D. He offered 40D and when I still said no, I had changed my mind, he grabbed the necklace, threw it down and stormed off. I was afraid to insult him by offering a price too low, but in touristy areas, shop keepers will always try to sell for more rather than less so be prepared.</li>
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<li style="text-align: justify;"><u>Tourists:</u> something I found difficult was how disrespectful (or just uneducated) tourists can be, especially in touristy centres like Marrakesh, where there are lots of Westerners. I made an effort to research the appropriate customs and expectations with regard to what to wear and what behaviour is acceptable. I covered my arms and legs and wore a head scarf and I didn't get hassled at all. I did observe some Western women being ogled at and, I guess you could say, harassed, and they were usually wearing minimal clothes (minimal by Moroccan standards - short <u>strappy</u> dresses, tank tops, shorts, etc). Apart from protecting yourself against the sun, it is polite to keep you shoulders and legs covered. A head scarf is not necessary (not all Moroccan women wear one) but I found it useful. We had an experience when visiting the lovely Berber nomad and her son Hassan out in the desert that left us feeling a bit sad and embarrassed to be tourists. Our guide and driver had taken us out to have tea there and we had spent the time chatting and playing with Hassan. It was lovely to see him interacting and enjoying the company as it is just him and his mother. He does not go to school or have friends close by. Unfortunately, their camp is right on a main route through the desert and just before we left 3 big 4x4s pulled up and about 12 people got out. They walked right over to the camp, taking photos and posing and looking in all the different tents. As soon as they arrived, Hassan ran away and hid. We were so blown away by these Westerners walking straight in and snapping photos. There was no regard to the fact that this was Hassan and his mother's home. We were so embarrassed that we got our things together and left straight away. Our guide Mustapha told us that there are some very different types of tourism in Morocco...some more respectful than others.</li>
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<li style="text-align: justify;"><u>What to bring:</u> less is more! I brought more clothes than I needed. I must have left half of what I brought in my bag the whole time. All I really wore was 2 pairs of trousers and 3 different long sleeve tops. I washed my socks and underwear each night and they were usually dry by the morning. In saying that, we still only had carry on luggage and bought lots of things, but I hate lugging around things and not using them! Also, the less you have, the less options there are so you don't have to think about what you're going to wear each day and you have more time to go out and enjoy yourself! </li>
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All in all, our trip to Morocco was fantastic. There were definitely many challenges but we also got the opportunity to do and see some truly amazing things and places. Below are some photographs I took. Unfortunately my camera started malfunctioning before we even got to the desert so all desert photos are taken on my phone. But you cannot capture the memories! The photos are just reminders really.</div>
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Enjoy xxx</div>
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thefaceofgracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18143970995251531519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332620057624743619.post-13740074701624581862015-05-28T14:15:00.001-07:002015-05-29T05:56:29.522-07:00a week at the GEA: Green Earth Awakening Festival<div style="text-align: justify;">
Just spent a lovely week working in the Buddhafield Vegan Kitchen/Cafe for the Green Earth Awakening Festival down in Devon. We were blessed with wonderful sunny days and cosy nights around the fire. This is my second year working with the Buddhafield crew - it's so lovely to be part of the team, see familiar faces and catch up with friends I haven't seen in almost a year. It's also been so lovely to learn more about Buddhist teachings and Dharma. I'm really looking forward to working in the kitchen at Glastonbury and Buddhafield Festival in the next couple of months. Following are some photos from the festival and a lovely sunset...Enjoy..</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dave playing Ninja</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYMlya_LbLLGDpvgonThutdOlg5n-RAoEK_I7AqX8QowdiFHlX_AgujXrlXAY86N-BmBZWlMcGyLOrSDysfgpA4aS75OLL2ynXwH0-RZTKCQzSu94tgUNl3JWhcChTfpdb82MaOVUUUhJW/s1600/IMG_3532_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYMlya_LbLLGDpvgonThutdOlg5n-RAoEK_I7AqX8QowdiFHlX_AgujXrlXAY86N-BmBZWlMcGyLOrSDysfgpA4aS75OLL2ynXwH0-RZTKCQzSu94tgUNl3JWhcChTfpdb82MaOVUUUhJW/s640/IMG_3532_Fotor.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trevor & Enid</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1HgkqyVf4RMNtgs4sCtmR3LQyu4bUi0JOirrSAMn3pw4gLINRpu5MR4vbZqTOj8XwuMz12sRvoavMubBOsR95FEIjYxOWyU4qGotADdBA1TSJBdmaZFtx85pL7cOhhSi9upyrdE-sXALK/s1600/IMG_3551_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1HgkqyVf4RMNtgs4sCtmR3LQyu4bUi0JOirrSAMn3pw4gLINRpu5MR4vbZqTOj8XwuMz12sRvoavMubBOsR95FEIjYxOWyU4qGotADdBA1TSJBdmaZFtx85pL7cOhhSi9upyrdE-sXALK/s640/IMG_3551_Fotor.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dave</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjObjNXcf8GxHtlHH2WRxqD2OsoTiMOJ3qMenMuQL0K7_guzwicaK9xfabucwcGrnhFxSV5t2uz3Gvdf8lWz7RE_9gtSsvmOpGnRb2wkDRQCbXoI4Ks_QUVmKisbcEkMs2pAeezm899xwTP/s1600/IMG_3583_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjObjNXcf8GxHtlHH2WRxqD2OsoTiMOJ3qMenMuQL0K7_guzwicaK9xfabucwcGrnhFxSV5t2uz3Gvdf8lWz7RE_9gtSsvmOpGnRb2wkDRQCbXoI4Ks_QUVmKisbcEkMs2pAeezm899xwTP/s640/IMG_3583_Fotor.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Panya</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ellie & Alenka</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alice</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNC1a5gDOm34_B3L9r-oV1ElFTWWOb24pu7OpnTyI-iMfp2tGb-wnQ0cuE5m5bdJwcjOZ9G7pTKFgnvX5IhJx3Z8FeYG0pkL73T510A6N_Rd0ONZ7gYBLNn9h-OQcVOQ7hWywncYY8wxG8/s1600/IMG_3633_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNC1a5gDOm34_B3L9r-oV1ElFTWWOb24pu7OpnTyI-iMfp2tGb-wnQ0cuE5m5bdJwcjOZ9G7pTKFgnvX5IhJx3Z8FeYG0pkL73T510A6N_Rd0ONZ7gYBLNn9h-OQcVOQ7hWywncYY8wxG8/s640/IMG_3633_Fotor.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Joe & Alice</td></tr>
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thefaceofgracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18143970995251531519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332620057624743619.post-44595776362201873842015-05-06T10:02:00.001-07:002015-05-06T10:06:01.110-07:00a week in latvia<div style="text-align: justify;">
I recently went to Riga, Latvia to visit my darling friend Ilona and her husband Matt. I spent a year working with Ilona in the UK and we became very close. I was lucky to have my friend Josh join me there too. And it was lovely to meet up with Martin who I met a couple of weeks ago at Veg Fest in the UK. We visited to some beautiful places around Latvia and it was lovely to be shown around.<br />
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Here are some pictures from the week xx</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg03gIZLZN2B3dX9kjbtyHGN61esf2lHB80Y9vkxHQV_-Q6XSkbaFSRu65emtL9U27C4SW10fTb3-pS_THknqR1abIE4bDZjIhjBiz7bMrLEWSN3qZyjqACAcexkwy4QSis1IloL_X6QCrB/s1600/IMG_3073_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg03gIZLZN2B3dX9kjbtyHGN61esf2lHB80Y9vkxHQV_-Q6XSkbaFSRu65emtL9U27C4SW10fTb3-pS_THknqR1abIE4bDZjIhjBiz7bMrLEWSN3qZyjqACAcexkwy4QSis1IloL_X6QCrB/s1600/IMG_3073_Fotor.jpg" height="456" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view of Riga from 26 floors up.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPZ-OluqqBQIcx-9OQ-q6xL5VLRY6_7BzTx_OvKlO1NqAdTrYaz8vLNpD198UpoSiYNb09KLIWmPwrFUB2eYp2WRULL0LO8bnIUl-No7CxpagGbh5yE1-w2nJUHGvteSq49UqgMeRVcXCJ/s1600/IMG_3074_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPZ-OluqqBQIcx-9OQ-q6xL5VLRY6_7BzTx_OvKlO1NqAdTrYaz8vLNpD198UpoSiYNb09KLIWmPwrFUB2eYp2WRULL0LO8bnIUl-No7CxpagGbh5yE1-w2nJUHGvteSq49UqgMeRVcXCJ/s1600/IMG_3074_Fotor.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunset in the city.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIgJ19F6XD9_bGUlx4KUF3XL7J2mPu2wtAc_oTIUiYPEFDO38lamtQsyRRbMJWT9eEfUi-6zDR3K_TGGxA87dZMUoKzV5EbC6VJi0cKzR5fPnTOaIrbtUQ43CI_PJ0hwKEfOrbD0bZc406/s1600/IMG_3237_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIgJ19F6XD9_bGUlx4KUF3XL7J2mPu2wtAc_oTIUiYPEFDO38lamtQsyRRbMJWT9eEfUi-6zDR3K_TGGxA87dZMUoKzV5EbC6VJi0cKzR5fPnTOaIrbtUQ43CI_PJ0hwKEfOrbD0bZc406/s1600/IMG_3237_Fotor.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Martin in the woods in Sigulda.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWAL5OmhzGykuACoa62iysrK7MLiSy7wKxD1fuH2AaRDBZGkoWGA3ZA4zVCIeURW4bvwX73HRl1zHsl_Czj4ET79vH2SdqQPvd-X1YU-UV83hJqGmQB_F3-hnUyxzWj7DFVR-Z0kQHcSrt/s1600/IMG_3256_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWAL5OmhzGykuACoa62iysrK7MLiSy7wKxD1fuH2AaRDBZGkoWGA3ZA4zVCIeURW4bvwX73HRl1zHsl_Czj4ET79vH2SdqQPvd-X1YU-UV83hJqGmQB_F3-hnUyxzWj7DFVR-Z0kQHcSrt/s1600/IMG_3256_Fotor.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Josh & I in the woods in Sigulda.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUR5C-yHvfPrTlb76f9E825WoKCvGQvuTJrXR2AYaLZpMyk28dKo9tf-H3S1REYru1LctbygFW8PtvaGHO0MrNUZqJXHm61-wvw5ato2FbbAon1tFJ4XUlbvd7J1QapvqwJQkIWAhPANvN/s1600/IMG_3157_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUR5C-yHvfPrTlb76f9E825WoKCvGQvuTJrXR2AYaLZpMyk28dKo9tf-H3S1REYru1LctbygFW8PtvaGHO0MrNUZqJXHm61-wvw5ato2FbbAon1tFJ4XUlbvd7J1QapvqwJQkIWAhPANvN/s1600/IMG_3157_Fotor.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Human bones and skulls found in a bag in a cemetery in Riga.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIT-e8YMIKFZCFymNgmj2bhra1ElqOjXbB7bAXF3VAA0iDBe20h38iy4hy8yLHyj_p_fGoEZw-cS1PBDKWIkCh3ji3E1zzkoBZ1hO2Juuu5JGqR86drbI32pqyTViKVEUv4q1kW6aOWwQO/s1600/IMG_3169_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIT-e8YMIKFZCFymNgmj2bhra1ElqOjXbB7bAXF3VAA0iDBe20h38iy4hy8yLHyj_p_fGoEZw-cS1PBDKWIkCh3ji3E1zzkoBZ1hO2Juuu5JGqR86drbI32pqyTViKVEUv4q1kW6aOWwQO/s1600/IMG_3169_Fotor.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Human bones and skulls found in a bag in a cemetery in Riga.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibEvecMaAqYfSF38Sr1SmK796WscyhLAcZNM7S4HIBdMLrCf661pbCYAfeae-e2GgotZLs4WEHo4MNfsI_RHbR-lifCCFFWEfne1KcRgsNkWPhQ_JKn1fT79gOfXGvsOzt_U7G3SOPGtTP/s1600/IMG_3302_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibEvecMaAqYfSF38Sr1SmK796WscyhLAcZNM7S4HIBdMLrCf661pbCYAfeae-e2GgotZLs4WEHo4MNfsI_RHbR-lifCCFFWEfne1KcRgsNkWPhQ_JKn1fT79gOfXGvsOzt_U7G3SOPGtTP/s1600/IMG_3302_Fotor.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lovely Josh.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMtVfo2B8J3f953Q5CkKUumMpaEUD1Xhb5BPidY0HmZY611MtHQdSgLSTxfc8ffnRD2V2NhSAJMjuKfofkgGvDX8t-qHzrqlzmNzFWhyphenhyphenk3bjD4OZwYjte1sE_2SOAW7gDm-51kWq6E4qib/s1600/IMG_3308_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMtVfo2B8J3f953Q5CkKUumMpaEUD1Xhb5BPidY0HmZY611MtHQdSgLSTxfc8ffnRD2V2NhSAJMjuKfofkgGvDX8t-qHzrqlzmNzFWhyphenhyphenk3bjD4OZwYjte1sE_2SOAW7gDm-51kWq6E4qib/s1600/IMG_3308_Fotor.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beautiful Ilona.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU9jb-I-rJumKn32yXQ-RGnRzwHdKQ8hYW87VIdmOSEqOuVut43VxQzob80YHPveaYxS6zGkfTZBV6qm70sarSZy5Tu_JfsPu1kLqX81bFIuiCWtIVgnc_Gpo_c5dxFWCcWtWmJr16YdYm/s1600/IMG_3189_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU9jb-I-rJumKn32yXQ-RGnRzwHdKQ8hYW87VIdmOSEqOuVut43VxQzob80YHPveaYxS6zGkfTZBV6qm70sarSZy5Tu_JfsPu1kLqX81bFIuiCWtIVgnc_Gpo_c5dxFWCcWtWmJr16YdYm/s1600/IMG_3189_Fotor.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Old KGB building known as the 'Corner House' in central Riga.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJBN6jObmdS7IppcITgN7HfWEIMkKBYr9XTcQKLz_hbihb8CqV_2ocK2B21fOaNgpuayfas6G4hLZuyxxixr7Z2BeP6WhyMDlhy285kVjEqhxw_dFjzZdD392WKB3XRra9WajfNncuonZL/s1600/IMG_3121_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJBN6jObmdS7IppcITgN7HfWEIMkKBYr9XTcQKLz_hbihb8CqV_2ocK2B21fOaNgpuayfas6G4hLZuyxxixr7Z2BeP6WhyMDlhy285kVjEqhxw_dFjzZdD392WKB3XRra9WajfNncuonZL/s1600/IMG_3121_Fotor.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Abandoned building, Riga</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqryjaIPW1WSAh_hIQ8sPd9cid_1CdvN1k0Lxy38J2_LzwSuDMYE8pE2ljJF3u2vU6TuGFscIc1gkxyJQ3ATuoxsbf9410_Z5DKtaOEXxY423LKjxr5GRdL56Z1ZdJiituoebLQFGLIVZd/s1600/IMG_3124_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqryjaIPW1WSAh_hIQ8sPd9cid_1CdvN1k0Lxy38J2_LzwSuDMYE8pE2ljJF3u2vU6TuGFscIc1gkxyJQ3ATuoxsbf9410_Z5DKtaOEXxY423LKjxr5GRdL56Z1ZdJiituoebLQFGLIVZd/s1600/IMG_3124_Fotor.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Abandoned building, Riga</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhowPGky3g1o4YedqoJd4X75xnrtKU5ETnZ13gsz5nelKSewlI1PCKIdj8XmanUOZp2tcuDenJpuMONOeZjqzaJvBphmd6iYfW_GPlQo80srHBDqn0SV8BAasmBW0Oig8EWCo88IjIGNTF3/s1600/IMG_3125_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhowPGky3g1o4YedqoJd4X75xnrtKU5ETnZ13gsz5nelKSewlI1PCKIdj8XmanUOZp2tcuDenJpuMONOeZjqzaJvBphmd6iYfW_GPlQo80srHBDqn0SV8BAasmBW0Oig8EWCo88IjIGNTF3/s1600/IMG_3125_Fotor.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Abandoned building, Riga</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihVaa5yXdymuVE8D2f8v-yCSX-oTEqTPAcYsfbGDwTSIcpVeYlxh53EpYKjs7EU7IPTVEvMlZ-zrNyU4Us4IKlh8saet1jt3p4IOCtrHqBBD1EQw0siQ6cMVSEZtqESgbg-I6doJThu4wx/s1600/IMG_3128_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihVaa5yXdymuVE8D2f8v-yCSX-oTEqTPAcYsfbGDwTSIcpVeYlxh53EpYKjs7EU7IPTVEvMlZ-zrNyU4Us4IKlh8saet1jt3p4IOCtrHqBBD1EQw0siQ6cMVSEZtqESgbg-I6doJThu4wx/s1600/IMG_3128_Fotor.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Abandoned building, Riga</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-utv8XWYPfrg_ORR85eS-F0b27Gn8gGJ8vi2ZLPbeiX6SSr-fbYIuFi3LbCd3YwDtbHPG5g9PQE_DJvtS4b5hYCPjYYabg1SdYPgyXh7bd73hB3SViK5MhNCCFDfEIbvqznRoz78jBDpW/s1600/IMG_3130_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-utv8XWYPfrg_ORR85eS-F0b27Gn8gGJ8vi2ZLPbeiX6SSr-fbYIuFi3LbCd3YwDtbHPG5g9PQE_DJvtS4b5hYCPjYYabg1SdYPgyXh7bd73hB3SViK5MhNCCFDfEIbvqznRoz78jBDpW/s1600/IMG_3130_Fotor.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Abandoned building, Riga</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipLkrOCKFkDCHpHQLTb4XT4Fbt7n0BpI9lknEr_ACv0tVWa7yNBGSLQpqbaeQ8-iwKpa3u94I3QWAeyygYjgg10Zmxuu2Kw4bQtlx8LGL8pbmUw__5X4j2D8ie-pkCawEo-KC6ZtIrWZ1x/s1600/IMG_3301_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipLkrOCKFkDCHpHQLTb4XT4Fbt7n0BpI9lknEr_ACv0tVWa7yNBGSLQpqbaeQ8-iwKpa3u94I3QWAeyygYjgg10Zmxuu2Kw4bQtlx8LGL8pbmUw__5X4j2D8ie-pkCawEo-KC6ZtIrWZ1x/s1600/IMG_3301_Fotor.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Abandoned building, Sigulda</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGYEOokaly-Q1nvsfBCztW1hr13d9sLm_DayeM25w6DxnrMKir7yRfCXi4O_TnLkxLKlW3_TjR7ACH2tM3AVKAp0xgT04TIP3aY8MQrR-JED2znsQXpCSuY7Sz1fTp2_Q0iWYqsGgx7-Z9/s1600/IMG_3266_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGYEOokaly-Q1nvsfBCztW1hr13d9sLm_DayeM25w6DxnrMKir7yRfCXi4O_TnLkxLKlW3_TjR7ACH2tM3AVKAp0xgT04TIP3aY8MQrR-JED2znsQXpCSuY7Sz1fTp2_Q0iWYqsGgx7-Z9/s1600/IMG_3266_Fotor.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Abandoned building, Sigulda</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqmCkrmyXPxR4PorCGbSsLM9Z8DNgmx-0ld3bIGNtc4VKV9zlbD9JxiaCfH5IYW2KJa9JV3J2kgnzZ2VDOxGZDPxMXXb-oaLb9o_Fg9GQ_z5Wz6zDVcatPBVdtwLk9BKzwgncm1EiJkCjV/s1600/IMG_3274_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqmCkrmyXPxR4PorCGbSsLM9Z8DNgmx-0ld3bIGNtc4VKV9zlbD9JxiaCfH5IYW2KJa9JV3J2kgnzZ2VDOxGZDPxMXXb-oaLb9o_Fg9GQ_z5Wz6zDVcatPBVdtwLk9BKzwgncm1EiJkCjV/s1600/IMG_3274_Fotor.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Abandoned building, Sigulda</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_WYaU22d2s8DZm990caKi6ojS-c-J9kJNY6KCwLIEIXewben0F6lNPg-krBQ9gwnJKY6ti5KewdBgqBlJ2wUuYHZWC5K3LtyllGtwRNY7xRDq7PSf0iYgXmEFFSstX19nPcguhB_whz5T/s1600/IMG_3292_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_WYaU22d2s8DZm990caKi6ojS-c-J9kJNY6KCwLIEIXewben0F6lNPg-krBQ9gwnJKY6ti5KewdBgqBlJ2wUuYHZWC5K3LtyllGtwRNY7xRDq7PSf0iYgXmEFFSstX19nPcguhB_whz5T/s1600/IMG_3292_Fotor.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Abandoned building, Sigulda</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6dSxZ90ni4HlpZf__ZiQhIIspv59BlSMu8ObJ8s8uMoFABDOFVKzRigpcVhAAeg1ivCoHaB8FiU9oO0qQh0r0W_-Y10_6vfBohuwJNcKx4Z8b_OuD31l315XkkNvpJqmCNd9z__wOZxeH/s1600/IMG_3293_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6dSxZ90ni4HlpZf__ZiQhIIspv59BlSMu8ObJ8s8uMoFABDOFVKzRigpcVhAAeg1ivCoHaB8FiU9oO0qQh0r0W_-Y10_6vfBohuwJNcKx4Z8b_OuD31l315XkkNvpJqmCNd9z__wOZxeH/s1600/IMG_3293_Fotor.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Abandoned building, Sigulda</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju6yIR_78z6jQ5ZDp7N2dO9FojqnaDKIYz8BbP7ienFIr_XWuesKoQ8ZIpaUuQPI6bfoWT3t-BKeJCJeF8-TB9ostZ9hmDzOUPTqTn7XoHEvgwpcKrtRWSYzCn-KwCM6d5zhHhvLhw-Zwb/s1600/IMG_3277_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju6yIR_78z6jQ5ZDp7N2dO9FojqnaDKIYz8BbP7ienFIr_XWuesKoQ8ZIpaUuQPI6bfoWT3t-BKeJCJeF8-TB9ostZ9hmDzOUPTqTn7XoHEvgwpcKrtRWSYzCn-KwCM6d5zhHhvLhw-Zwb/s1600/IMG_3277_Fotor.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Abandoned building, Sigulda</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT8hwmNevCKRm8zoRzDa4Hxc3HPfHu1Fw353mhyphenhyphend7Yl-7fyegyXb4Qda1TotWXjgAaWnufQvyttyK20Xfz2PdKzxnQSjbZ9RdTxpTJvjFCyNb_dG6mYEnBvH1-vptAxTlkQL-e6rbFjK9j/s1600/IMG_3279_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT8hwmNevCKRm8zoRzDa4Hxc3HPfHu1Fw353mhyphenhyphend7Yl-7fyegyXb4Qda1TotWXjgAaWnufQvyttyK20Xfz2PdKzxnQSjbZ9RdTxpTJvjFCyNb_dG6mYEnBvH1-vptAxTlkQL-e6rbFjK9j/s1600/IMG_3279_Fotor.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Abandoned building, Sigulda</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0g7LyilLwmuNOtzhy5sTXh7fwznVeB7jGTHOGNheENyu1XxvAJ0KxmfOjkwaJaNl00BZ0psnS7tBOAv7_qyQuH0nUiis0FRtw5B0_0s6CQDyDBArucpea5YYZ_ORZD2NR7qFInywpGIAr/s1600/IMG_3281_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0g7LyilLwmuNOtzhy5sTXh7fwznVeB7jGTHOGNheENyu1XxvAJ0KxmfOjkwaJaNl00BZ0psnS7tBOAv7_qyQuH0nUiis0FRtw5B0_0s6CQDyDBArucpea5YYZ_ORZD2NR7qFInywpGIAr/s1600/IMG_3281_Fotor.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Abandoned building, Sigulda</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT39M_D2WMZXpjuF0bUdysPUOXkGPi3V9wthOtSyG-g1LhwGzALbKW0x2v6fueDqjcfrRqCLoiu1LG1LCCkoXIAe94AY5kIAJ1YL6iCOZcuvlcq9CiDQi5k01oQD2Rm65zmTFMlqFDMWXh/s1600/IMG_3290_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT39M_D2WMZXpjuF0bUdysPUOXkGPi3V9wthOtSyG-g1LhwGzALbKW0x2v6fueDqjcfrRqCLoiu1LG1LCCkoXIAe94AY5kIAJ1YL6iCOZcuvlcq9CiDQi5k01oQD2Rm65zmTFMlqFDMWXh/s1600/IMG_3290_Fotor.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Abandoned building, Sigulda</td></tr>
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thefaceofgracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18143970995251531519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332620057624743619.post-63785499018752092802015-05-05T08:03:00.005-07:002015-05-07T02:21:16.422-07:00a week in norway<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Back from beautiful Norway after 5 days of adventure with my friend Nick. </div>
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We spent the first couple of days in Oslo exploring the city with all it's wonderful architecture (the huge modern opera house with it's slanting roof, the amazing neoClassical Royal Palace and traditional wooden structures that are iconic to Norway..). We stumbled upon an Indian Festival celebrating the turban. It was beautiful and colourful with fantastic traditional Indian music, delicious food and turbans for everyone! </div>
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We visited a couple of museums and art galleries including the Emanuel Vigeland Mausoleum which is amazing! We also had a lovely picnic lunch in the Vigeland Park with all sorts of crazy sculptures. (Gustav and Emanuel Vigeland are brothers - Gustav being more well known.)</div>
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We spent the rest of our trip couch surfing in Nesodden, one of the most beautiful, tranquil and picturesque places I have visited. There was a wonderful coastal walk that we went on, taking lots of photos along the way. It was so nice to be outside in the fresh air - it is so crisp and clean and we were lucky to have sunny weather the whole time (except the last day when it began to snow!)</div>
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We also visited Drammen and Sandvika with a lovely friend of Nick's. The highlight of that was visiting the Drammen Spiral. We drove up inside a mountain, around and around and around in this tunnel until we reached a door at the top, drove through and we could look out across the city of Drammen. It was really beautiful and photos just don't do it justice!</div>
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It was so lovely for me to travel with a friend this time - I have had enough of solo travelling for a while! Thanks Nick for joining me and for doing so much of the organising and map reading and for cramming so much in to such a short amount of time!</div>
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Here are some pics of our adventure. Enjoy xx</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjidVEf77zDu5JiPM-mNAwXGL9rNjP3X7pxrXJy1bxj62P5xQpsePfZoqC3b1JHGkpBASxshzgI52sYkPOWwZkZDUtjHkWSTYkX2Xp5IHhoTaKXYFkEqFptexrNHwmkKNEnCf_e0YtLJqLD/s1600/_DSC0111_BW.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo3-olbCJ-TcnPsj-mlInoWDon_YGO1fSKeJEDFBeeRyFc1hr63jOwhx8tIBCDWMZJCp2Fy0FjjOpkxKEKbH3kZ18WE6D6u_xXbLgSuMKeP-X3HiP6hH_xaxK7Obwt4v5McaoF8WN1jli3/s1600/IMG_2864_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo3-olbCJ-TcnPsj-mlInoWDon_YGO1fSKeJEDFBeeRyFc1hr63jOwhx8tIBCDWMZJCp2Fy0FjjOpkxKEKbH3kZ18WE6D6u_xXbLgSuMKeP-X3HiP6hH_xaxK7Obwt4v5McaoF8WN1jli3/s1600/IMG_2864_Fotor.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Vigeland Park<br />
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<span style="font-size: 13px;">Vigeland Park</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEika2Ex7bZf9KGhBPQwc6D11fG7oIZjmZ8L3wntgC4VNUkImjg8J8ytrs-euriGGCjgIFHSo55BtiUW22Kz0cT1PZjh_UBE9MlHX1bWWk9kcXXCP0c52zJp2IoVaLjxyhfyuOqjmefdTFy-/s1600/IMG_2885_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEika2Ex7bZf9KGhBPQwc6D11fG7oIZjmZ8L3wntgC4VNUkImjg8J8ytrs-euriGGCjgIFHSo55BtiUW22Kz0cT1PZjh_UBE9MlHX1bWWk9kcXXCP0c52zJp2IoVaLjxyhfyuOqjmefdTFy-/s1600/IMG_2885_Fotor.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Outside one of the art galleries.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Outside one of the art galleries.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHyPFTqc1ZRdNzJ50hOaf9zpZ24kFf_0SUI8qr_Ov6v_FXNz_tzHbYt7s1ao_-eVKf4VkQY8J1kCTGI4Cr7ZSoN1CYwM9AJjgdVO8O0h67scAN9BCJ9z35unWQi9p63G6AQrYR_s929-Wt/s1600/IMG_2920_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHyPFTqc1ZRdNzJ50hOaf9zpZ24kFf_0SUI8qr_Ov6v_FXNz_tzHbYt7s1ao_-eVKf4VkQY8J1kCTGI4Cr7ZSoN1CYwM9AJjgdVO8O0h67scAN9BCJ9z35unWQi9p63G6AQrYR_s929-Wt/s1600/IMG_2920_Fotor.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Turban Outfitters Festival</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCqWjj341IMiiB6LA_rxW-8gEDWVprlh7S6Sgm-Zz8NdR40wDI5ChGQ9Y_OyCueL29P0jStLA2QBqhA1anXOKjzR4aYhWArhhhbnHwE1Dp5ehwJLvh6lzCgleZXZEW59Kg24IaWKBd7Z5T/s1600/IMG_2925_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCqWjj341IMiiB6LA_rxW-8gEDWVprlh7S6Sgm-Zz8NdR40wDI5ChGQ9Y_OyCueL29P0jStLA2QBqhA1anXOKjzR4aYhWArhhhbnHwE1Dp5ehwJLvh6lzCgleZXZEW59Kg24IaWKBd7Z5T/s1600/IMG_2925_Fotor.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Turban Outfitters Festival</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoOfapntie1fQrNuv8QoOCKbruAXsyDrryfahZkxZByOV7twVM8Pe0hvZm4wRaDzbjzPmdGR-pjimQTZq0wg8q-C9nl0aic-BP0Kscylk045_iEBVWl0ZqNa5lgQqW7kezvsUG3oLWMnJx/s1600/IMG_2935_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoOfapntie1fQrNuv8QoOCKbruAXsyDrryfahZkxZByOV7twVM8Pe0hvZm4wRaDzbjzPmdGR-pjimQTZq0wg8q-C9nl0aic-BP0Kscylk045_iEBVWl0ZqNa5lgQqW7kezvsUG3oLWMnJx/s1600/IMG_2935_Fotor.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Turban Outfitters Festival</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuYLZKUm7SyVc3bYG-RvoevOPIJh7E-fwvHvqyYnAOgY9NFEQkxSr3r6KBS7ZAZvD-PiyWnt8EL2HaXFqvXK3KSHMHijtTDq_cdvcCSTVhHHPI1KlrT1V5TyumhF3FyX4Fy0W7wffJlTBG/s1600/IMG_2936_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuYLZKUm7SyVc3bYG-RvoevOPIJh7E-fwvHvqyYnAOgY9NFEQkxSr3r6KBS7ZAZvD-PiyWnt8EL2HaXFqvXK3KSHMHijtTDq_cdvcCSTVhHHPI1KlrT1V5TyumhF3FyX4Fy0W7wffJlTBG/s1600/IMG_2936_Fotor.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Turban Outfitters Festival</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGLaEOrvMeuDJkrgP-gbWkul8t5nfJobZmYXqIQqdOjCzfLved0hSsxRVr9mJX1hN1pK08hNnmkJBlz8SmA2xFoBYOlV8-SGdf6JcAuGA_SpPBSHeRmD8BQ5Thu6GV9A474rQH9XsLHYP4/s1600/IMG_3006_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGLaEOrvMeuDJkrgP-gbWkul8t5nfJobZmYXqIQqdOjCzfLved0hSsxRVr9mJX1hN1pK08hNnmkJBlz8SmA2xFoBYOlV8-SGdf6JcAuGA_SpPBSHeRmD8BQ5Thu6GV9A474rQH9XsLHYP4/s1600/IMG_3006_Fotor.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Turban Outfitters Festival</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcTUr6kWEVgaHqLhyphenhyphenG5iSDEokaQX6O_bptT6dtJNZH_FvONw19FW5A0ufKUYVfkUJX4sMch7ChopV4Czg9eTKj2-neNi2p0pmY505p1xHfD8T2E_dtHnqc6_7Uu55AyKE-S2ELlwRoQLHL/s1600/IMG_2940_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcTUr6kWEVgaHqLhyphenhyphenG5iSDEokaQX6O_bptT6dtJNZH_FvONw19FW5A0ufKUYVfkUJX4sMch7ChopV4Czg9eTKj2-neNi2p0pmY505p1xHfD8T2E_dtHnqc6_7Uu55AyKE-S2ELlwRoQLHL/s1600/IMG_2940_Fotor.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Turban Outfitters Festival</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Turban Outfitters Festival</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgge1nmJT3eVF8O1R-e6iMAZgocBJMvr4FHmfrE13Kv-LdIDVifbwwZjLVCBOPe8dDr1QYNBeSY45jJteQpPnIa569CWSd2qA-Ga93rumYFLFCc3K_Qe4xNQ1bDoCWwMxjt5R43EO2PiibX/s1600/IMG_3004_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgge1nmJT3eVF8O1R-e6iMAZgocBJMvr4FHmfrE13Kv-LdIDVifbwwZjLVCBOPe8dDr1QYNBeSY45jJteQpPnIa569CWSd2qA-Ga93rumYFLFCc3K_Qe4xNQ1bDoCWwMxjt5R43EO2PiibX/s1600/IMG_3004_Fotor.jpg" width="425" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Busker in Oslo</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Drammen</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyAH4vbPhOQ7ejVMaTpUACFrj3v2VNtMLWt0kZUUJ4gw0oO_G_FnFHxp3x12IHiTTKoKuCcjoatYgZax_SSGWaS_iuWkesMUGKcIyvTR-tNp-btJZGd9XQeSIRiAs6eJP73g8JnDCgLBRs/s1600/IMG_3049_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyAH4vbPhOQ7ejVMaTpUACFrj3v2VNtMLWt0kZUUJ4gw0oO_G_FnFHxp3x12IHiTTKoKuCcjoatYgZax_SSGWaS_iuWkesMUGKcIyvTR-tNp-btJZGd9XQeSIRiAs6eJP73g8JnDCgLBRs/s1600/IMG_3049_Fotor.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nesodden</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHRSZR_dwJDo5wXpoyRIOlmkW8k8bdnVjRa6UMq5_efnBEkcWh0xWkve3hNO6FNvz4vDY-PGrMo_TjhO8pBoVXOIg5zwjvrNyhXIsvbNb74Z6haHXu6wk-5bAGa7aLQIqWTLaOhA2obto-/s1600/IMG_3062_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHRSZR_dwJDo5wXpoyRIOlmkW8k8bdnVjRa6UMq5_efnBEkcWh0xWkve3hNO6FNvz4vDY-PGrMo_TjhO8pBoVXOIg5zwjvrNyhXIsvbNb74Z6haHXu6wk-5bAGa7aLQIqWTLaOhA2obto-/s1600/IMG_3062_Fotor.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nicholas!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nesodden</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nesodden</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Last day in Nesodden</td></tr>
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thefaceofgracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18143970995251531519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332620057624743619.post-36483613887863633392015-04-08T18:05:00.000-07:002015-06-16T16:07:46.686-07:00a week in greece<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Well, goodness me. Greece. What an adventure.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It certainly had its ups and downs and gosh did I learn some important lessons! I had some pretty powerful revelations.. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But I had a really positive time visiting Thessaloniki.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was very disorganised for this trip. Had my tickets and a couch to surf on, and that was it. No plans, I didn't do any research about Thessaloniki in itself - I had rough ideas about visiting some of the surrounding towns and villages.. I didn't know much of the language and the Greek alphabet, well that is completely new to me!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anyway - I arrived at the airport, excited, and was greeted by my fantastic CS host Aleksandros. We spent a lot of time together over the week and had a lot of laughs. The first couple of days Aleks showed me around the city. We visited the old part and I really enjoyed looking at all the architecture and old abandoned buildings. Aleks was slightly confused about my desire to explore all these places, but he took me to some beautiful houses and patiently waited as I snapped away on my camera. We went to Edessa on the train and visited beautiful waterfalls in the pouring rain. We met lovely Maria (a German vegan CS girl living in the city) who took us to a delicious little vegan Spanish bar. We visited some amazing churches - I love how important faith and religion is in Greece, it really unites a lot people. Spending time observing prayer and communion in church was wonderful - there is such an overwhelming feeling of love and gratitude. (I don't consider myself to be religious or to have a religion, but there's a lot of energy in places of worship and I appreciate that spiritual connection people find.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But I did also struggle in Greece. I thought perhaps it was because I had been disorganised and was annoyed at myself for 'wasting' my opportunity in this country. Or because I felt vulnerable being by myself for the first time and I was scared of getting lost... Or maybe because I have been travelling a lot lately (and travelling by myself) and maybe I was just tired and didn't have the energy and enthusiasm of a travel companion to perk me up... But ... I was reading a very powerful book while I was in Greece. (Ask me about it.) It only has 7 chapters, lessons rather. As I was reading I was finding a lot of truth and also a lot of sadness. A lot of questions.. Each chapter challenged me to think. To think about myself and my happiness and my impact on the world and the people in it. My goals and aspirations and desires. My purpose in this life. Big questions that aren't that easy to answer.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As I read, I was going on a bit of an emotional roller coaster. In each chapter I was going on the ride again - start to finish, with all its ups and downs, and twists and turns.. The excitement of my trips away is slightly tainted by the looming departure date from England. The date when I actually leave, when my visa runs out. This has been on my mind a lot. It just doesn't feel like I have a time limit. I live in Brighton, that is where I am meant to be. It's not possible for me to be here legally one day and illegally the next...that doesn't make sense. This is home. I can't just be thrown out...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But I can. And I will be. As excited as I am to be travelling to India with my friend Joel, and then heading back to Australia, I don't know if I'm ready to live in Australia again, yet. And this has been on my mind for a while. One positive thing that has come from having a time limit here is the realisation that I need to make the most of being here while I am. That's been a bit of a wake up call. Now that I know I have to go, I am discovering Brighton again. And every time I go away, I really look forward to coming back to Brighton because there's all these things I'm involved with, all these people I love, all these places wonderful places on my doorstep.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, whilst reading this book and questioning myself about what I want out of life, what kind of things I'm good at, what direction to take next, Brighton is calling me, and saying "hey, I've got these things for you, I can feed that hunger for new and exciting things, I can harness those skills and put them to good use, I can teach you and I can bring you happiness and purpose." Oh. Okay...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now, this all sounds positive and as if I've now got it all sorted out - and now, now that I've had a week back in Brighton, I am feeling more sorted. But at the time, I was not sorted - far from it. I was freaking out. Unsure about who I am, what I want. Feeling ridiculously, irrationally insecure (to the point that I could not leave the house). Going outside terrified me. People. People would look at me. Judge me. I'm imperfect. What would they think? What would they say? So I got myself into a bit of state. In hindsight, being in Greece, away from my closest friends and my family whom I confide in (and can usually chat to instantly and in person) was such a blessing. Yes, I received messages of advice from my friends and family, but for the most part, it was me that needed to take these issues by the horns and understand them or they were going to absolutely destroy me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The fear of leaving the house actually played an important role here. Being (feeling) cooped up in this little flat in Thessaloniki with a pad of paper, the book and not many other distractions meant I wrote - a lot. Mostly in letter form, although I don't know who the recipient was ... maybe me?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I tried to tackle my biggest insecurity - judgement. I am completely terrified of humans. The way we judge each other so critically, at face value, with absolutely <b>NO</b> idea about a person's background, history, experiences, perspective... And I catch myself doing it. Once you start noticing it, you realise how much you do it, even subconsciously. I am an <i>incredibly</i> harsh critic - my goodness horrible thoughts go through my head. And that is the stem of my insecurity... It's a cycle - I feel insecure so I judge people to make myself feel better, but in doing that I feel guilty for being judgemental and feel worse and because I am angry I judge more and all that bad energy is swilling around me and people feel it. I feel it. So I am really actively trying not to judge. If I catch myself about to judge or criticise anything or anyone, I just say in my head "Today I will practice non-judgement." And I repeat it until the urge to judge has dissipated. (I cannot take the credit for this at all - Depak Chopra taught me this. I have been told not to judge before, but I was not listening, not open. Or maybe it's just the way Depak Chopra writes...concise, honest, engaging...)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have to thank my wonderful friend Tiana for showing me her copy of this book that changed my life. And also for the chat we had when I was in Greece which made me feel a hell of a lot better. And I have to thank Henry for listening to me freak out and comforting me, especially when I heard about the German Wings plane crash and was so petrified that the same thing would happen on my flight home from Greece. I have to thank my parents for just always being there, on the other side of the world, but 'there' nonetheless. And of course to my CS host Aleks for putting up with me while I was sorting all these things out in my head!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For me, the week in Greece was tough - but only positive things came from it. I know which direction my life is taking now. I know where I want to be. And I feel happier and more grateful than ever for all the good and bad, because everything is an opportunity to learn. So, now that I have got that off my chest, enjoy some snaps from Thessaloniki and Edessa. Much love! xxx</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view of the city from the Castle.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXY8h5iV8dQehargthVl6f0mJ0myRH8kksZXz9Z_TfFGAwqktk7DHh1upgKw7efyApTlTjgJFNNs1zWVuWREwi_S7mQegvaVFmjFjrjHm4j3c9tYvUpgqCKl2y8YaI6X7dFZiDWHtAWIhy/s1600/IMG_2637_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXY8h5iV8dQehargthVl6f0mJ0myRH8kksZXz9Z_TfFGAwqktk7DHh1upgKw7efyApTlTjgJFNNs1zWVuWREwi_S7mQegvaVFmjFjrjHm4j3c9tYvUpgqCKl2y8YaI6X7dFZiDWHtAWIhy/s1600/IMG_2637_Fotor.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The best abandoned building we found - 360 degree view of the city.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGYfea3pPUsrV8O3JhMe9uy2TEoGEKFT13BNdnIis6CAmZHxYq1miMAKDb7uSlq1ymRu53oNrE04Wod7CzHBgO0rQ_Uu3IfCuVI02GHh9bRZZhbMfDOAckdicUyPD0WASSIaWJp9SaYhG2/s1600/IMG_2471_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGYfea3pPUsrV8O3JhMe9uy2TEoGEKFT13BNdnIis6CAmZHxYq1miMAKDb7uSlq1ymRu53oNrE04Wod7CzHBgO0rQ_Uu3IfCuVI02GHh9bRZZhbMfDOAckdicUyPD0WASSIaWJp9SaYhG2/s1600/IMG_2471_Fotor.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Homeless Russian man.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-0Kk-jPNboKoU81tTYCMIQO_XRruTQYAgVb_Y0-a1aqboELFGrjs8QfWbAUJ-rOkn-eyMGyQPA15S9Tz91sW44X4aGcGf_EXDkzQErHfyOix21rcnQO8R01OKZzksSBT98K18VvrQeR3O/s1600/IMG_2699_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-0Kk-jPNboKoU81tTYCMIQO_XRruTQYAgVb_Y0-a1aqboELFGrjs8QfWbAUJ-rOkn-eyMGyQPA15S9Tz91sW44X4aGcGf_EXDkzQErHfyOix21rcnQO8R01OKZzksSBT98K18VvrQeR3O/s1600/IMG_2699_Fotor.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trifon. He didn't speak a word of English, I didn't speak a word of Greek. He wondered why I was photography old, empty buildings. He shrugged "why" and said "kaput!" Wish I captured his infectious smile!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aleks. The Dude!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGUl4qNGeDw0Fy462LaiEVM0IZcjSyWfW105GGgiRXj7wW5_lDBghTc0aX4VtNnsalK43JP4gH0GSTnJ-yGfrtefoNerSLRds-KIHzAUCHqK_A4L7VkuKaAHum-QT8pY8kcsYuS8SdUXzu/s1600/IMG_2717_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGUl4qNGeDw0Fy462LaiEVM0IZcjSyWfW105GGgiRXj7wW5_lDBghTc0aX4VtNnsalK43JP4gH0GSTnJ-yGfrtefoNerSLRds-KIHzAUCHqK_A4L7VkuKaAHum-QT8pY8kcsYuS8SdUXzu/s1600/IMG_2717_Fotor.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Edessa.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC8VrcJop9LXiSTWambjqyjF81niqYiI2ntjC-7Yx_PgeO0v2D3tVdnTsQBla9u2ipyihrk62HAjHf44csPhhtkE3IHF7aKtXA3Dt_Bw9JdnbRmgIDNfAGxvLc7BgEuZbG_gk3D72Am6tU/s1600/IMG_2778_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC8VrcJop9LXiSTWambjqyjF81niqYiI2ntjC-7Yx_PgeO0v2D3tVdnTsQBla9u2ipyihrk62HAjHf44csPhhtkE3IHF7aKtXA3Dt_Bw9JdnbRmgIDNfAGxvLc7BgEuZbG_gk3D72Am6tU/s1600/IMG_2778_Fotor.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Edessa.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEsVC7UtFG8SPVZRDDj-J780wc70XesS0ws-yKdXOuTjI24rjkMHzYhdStOM1pnxwaEarDEWqTi20e5UHfmCdl70uqxQR3gnfB0XpGFN1lXoEDOSMKGlkH201UrWNfVUJbIZfNij3kYSvm/s1600/IMG_2720_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEsVC7UtFG8SPVZRDDj-J780wc70XesS0ws-yKdXOuTjI24rjkMHzYhdStOM1pnxwaEarDEWqTi20e5UHfmCdl70uqxQR3gnfB0XpGFN1lXoEDOSMKGlkH201UrWNfVUJbIZfNij3kYSvm/s1600/IMG_2720_Fotor.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Edessa.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7_TYGdf4p_WWGtBZGz1FAycqnTfmXXU79Sl4WX1HqpaiqjWL8RaCqeDynJOJatdLeiXLI1A5-EQUnoy9hoCsJbqeCCQb9j586Qleq_64FRrQoAPtg2Kjpj9_-zYelpBlSHPX9XAXLncxh/s1600/IMG_2726_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7_TYGdf4p_WWGtBZGz1FAycqnTfmXXU79Sl4WX1HqpaiqjWL8RaCqeDynJOJatdLeiXLI1A5-EQUnoy9hoCsJbqeCCQb9j586Qleq_64FRrQoAPtg2Kjpj9_-zYelpBlSHPX9XAXLncxh/s1600/IMG_2726_Fotor.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Edessa.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb2a7k3T04ryc3_etPL6BxNOf7EMbRmQu0MecsOlm82nc_EtAz7Os7NX9f9eQC6-OUYHaKCnmFEgk9vuTHDEYTQLF3Mqne1gHhZ52xaWzK26wLWauP1gzlkTUzucDVozPPy3sY2ecpgWmr/s1600/IMG_2730_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb2a7k3T04ryc3_etPL6BxNOf7EMbRmQu0MecsOlm82nc_EtAz7Os7NX9f9eQC6-OUYHaKCnmFEgk9vuTHDEYTQLF3Mqne1gHhZ52xaWzK26wLWauP1gzlkTUzucDVozPPy3sY2ecpgWmr/s1600/IMG_2730_Fotor.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From underneath the waterfall.</td></tr>
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thefaceofgracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18143970995251531519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332620057624743619.post-86070174426274542402015-03-19T09:03:00.000-07:002015-06-16T16:08:02.108-07:00a week in spainsnippets and snaps from my last trip to spain. a week spent exploring places, new and familiar. seeing friends. eating well. sleeping in. watching, observing & absorbing. enjoying.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS6zb3g8LmtFSGwThtUOa7wjh0eqIM5oM9iHfFZe6PIMiLFHu481Q6d4Z5yYiDqyx0Yjq-F8ZL4mnG-bWNb19621qXV2uM7bBndPwdlqBt1V1ZGWDseum9ej3yDjNn6hkVKgq8pvsIE2Ks/s1600/IMG_2130_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS6zb3g8LmtFSGwThtUOa7wjh0eqIM5oM9iHfFZe6PIMiLFHu481Q6d4Z5yYiDqyx0Yjq-F8ZL4mnG-bWNb19621qXV2uM7bBndPwdlqBt1V1ZGWDseum9ej3yDjNn6hkVKgq8pvsIE2Ks/s1600/IMG_2130_Fotor.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Architecture in Spain is so beautiful.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO-hlblZ9VAa-QnVBe13f6qWM3wQoTCFf0TMdAagMMvLVd8d4e19TdJ_OOKjwjRHAlvZ_KT_YMskhPHn-aD5VEnkB-7SCE6HTHnCD2gZwZHkH7riK5aVRpppevrcDVbydH4hX8XgZu2nWW/s1600/IMG_2292_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO-hlblZ9VAa-QnVBe13f6qWM3wQoTCFf0TMdAagMMvLVd8d4e19TdJ_OOKjwjRHAlvZ_KT_YMskhPHn-aD5VEnkB-7SCE6HTHnCD2gZwZHkH7riK5aVRpppevrcDVbydH4hX8XgZu2nWW/s1600/IMG_2292_Fotor.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Park Guell. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivhZq5KbHE3wsJ0f66cR_Rz7odofq5IcvrMq2cbQsaQcgToyEfPhXJ4ZDYwovn4otYcih8I-QagGWJ4XtcYP0Qb0jKn8iv57Y6pnrr9BxqNYDk2r_Wbgokf80rZnhzT8a29y6WL0KKDW5d/s1600/IMG_2358_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivhZq5KbHE3wsJ0f66cR_Rz7odofq5IcvrMq2cbQsaQcgToyEfPhXJ4ZDYwovn4otYcih8I-QagGWJ4XtcYP0Qb0jKn8iv57Y6pnrr9BxqNYDk2r_Wbgokf80rZnhzT8a29y6WL0KKDW5d/s1600/IMG_2358_Fotor.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Park Guell.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0j1POapbNAVVpDAcPv0IR0_OcZAVoPPqHsyKfcg8b1p030lEp89bXtL7FbO4wb_BFvwncefB2Xq8eoh5dDPkpYO0y4ZVC7SY6lH6iMg_6owD_fr8bb3_7G1nCr99WHzgcFi5g9xJrgtGx/s1600/IMG_2301_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0j1POapbNAVVpDAcPv0IR0_OcZAVoPPqHsyKfcg8b1p030lEp89bXtL7FbO4wb_BFvwncefB2Xq8eoh5dDPkpYO0y4ZVC7SY6lH6iMg_6owD_fr8bb3_7G1nCr99WHzgcFi5g9xJrgtGx/s1600/IMG_2301_Fotor.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Spanish skyline.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR7MAvB0RQ-I10VcNUcxmhRCAAlyKIDSRYw0cnxRGJiyFfsATqxicOz1VyBgSjedqnZeF1ZkLrOJ7XRh_aoPKwpGuJrCdzSo9_fpy-663ezSxm2AfuLPwBTsu3_RwzxMy7G6aDhL-izdz5/s1600/IMG_2344_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR7MAvB0RQ-I10VcNUcxmhRCAAlyKIDSRYw0cnxRGJiyFfsATqxicOz1VyBgSjedqnZeF1ZkLrOJ7XRh_aoPKwpGuJrCdzSo9_fpy-663ezSxm2AfuLPwBTsu3_RwzxMy7G6aDhL-izdz5/s1600/IMG_2344_Fotor.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from Park Guell.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuejtLBj041P7ichE_x-0jQPdEECuP6tL2Mb5dMOoQvwOjOtQwF9ecJEBxTV2mTblZZlDXmpMjChHqVwK4p4o6JY8K0-YcKZp96Yru3Da1pyz-XpnLLWXGLKD5eud4FAVsrMee0s4q6bUb/s1600/IMG_2423_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuejtLBj041P7ichE_x-0jQPdEECuP6tL2Mb5dMOoQvwOjOtQwF9ecJEBxTV2mTblZZlDXmpMjChHqVwK4p4o6JY8K0-YcKZp96Yru3Da1pyz-XpnLLWXGLKD5eud4FAVsrMee0s4q6bUb/s1600/IMG_2423_Fotor.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tiana's flat.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLASr2QiK2x8uLH-Xz6LZQOGxhX5C14IHE-dppkUoRMRJEhzPobouxu_os8wsKweaRolReIyIBGEzzyw2wJvuGlx5tl_21vaAXBhdDQ2Oe6qP5gAns_VB_sz3aEAWN1VD37q0RRioB88b5/s1600/IMG_2431_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLASr2QiK2x8uLH-Xz6LZQOGxhX5C14IHE-dppkUoRMRJEhzPobouxu_os8wsKweaRolReIyIBGEzzyw2wJvuGlx5tl_21vaAXBhdDQ2Oe6qP5gAns_VB_sz3aEAWN1VD37q0RRioB88b5/s1600/IMG_2431_Fotor.jpg" width="456" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Simple.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhareH_gH3_n-l0ataH6M44rkhpvwSyM1eQXSCI2LasWreXvRJrh5B2uupNsz5akAmw8QCbLGI_pygmWGwHu37eyimhkJ_gmxN33NGIa2aObDqqDIpLCcB33lO4tMic5NlknfUdWGD0lxf7/s1600/IMG_2442_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhareH_gH3_n-l0ataH6M44rkhpvwSyM1eQXSCI2LasWreXvRJrh5B2uupNsz5akAmw8QCbLGI_pygmWGwHu37eyimhkJ_gmxN33NGIa2aObDqqDIpLCcB33lO4tMic5NlknfUdWGD0lxf7/s1600/IMG_2442_Fotor.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Self portrait at Tiana's flat.</td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF7MCl28l4BZWW_TKAm2zcZQy8_ck8uvp4CLn8Ysh0TxqhrzmLR3OVgty7QmDZvISt0GM8ZRetaypxTuXjvhlZpbdLjYTTJDedreeXyrRslDPMpazv0cVurL6xVXnH5eEf2nf4-cXuj47s/s1600/IMG_2314_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF7MCl28l4BZWW_TKAm2zcZQy8_ck8uvp4CLn8Ysh0TxqhrzmLR3OVgty7QmDZvISt0GM8ZRetaypxTuXjvhlZpbdLjYTTJDedreeXyrRslDPMpazv0cVurL6xVXnH5eEf2nf4-cXuj47s/s1600/IMG_2314_Fotor.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption">Friends at Park Guell.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjngJvDwGfe35SSBy0yF8ZnQrJ-WnDhL7zfLvU_v6HttKtfrV_NSwnDjEVZJNJstyFS_U2tT5DTe4DsQcqc2CLVPqZHuDUWGxrOHwK3q7e6FTytUHPsJvIt1ZVjsXoirX1JknNWGr2nc8dk/s1600/IMG_2243_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjngJvDwGfe35SSBy0yF8ZnQrJ-WnDhL7zfLvU_v6HttKtfrV_NSwnDjEVZJNJstyFS_U2tT5DTe4DsQcqc2CLVPqZHuDUWGxrOHwK3q7e6FTytUHPsJvIt1ZVjsXoirX1JknNWGr2nc8dk/s1600/IMG_2243_Fotor.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tiana the babe.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8meF5SBN2TeOoyVSKOxfm1B-tNo1bK-v-HFFWY4sL1CzNHs1jS_gT3pO-TfjgGQH4emUqvqrMyE4Eoj_4cIXTP2x7u2P4ItF8jU8SSPoA2SBvvWMrCjhhe2LwH4EZvusFLWo9HsNaqVLP/s1600/IMG_2412_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8meF5SBN2TeOoyVSKOxfm1B-tNo1bK-v-HFFWY4sL1CzNHs1jS_gT3pO-TfjgGQH4emUqvqrMyE4Eoj_4cIXTP2x7u2P4ItF8jU8SSPoA2SBvvWMrCjhhe2LwH4EZvusFLWo9HsNaqVLP/s1600/IMG_2412_Fotor.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gracia. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOZAWKME6V9So8EypMZijb2gRAfrtgy5qupOmcLRai5FkIkz8UQqxszL60o5Bpq4NGUivushnlaIpI1e0_XVFQlx9CcbeLMHIOHqrORAVHS-z8xiY18v3G5dVraXwDRNIYDiDsncn1PXaH/s1600/IMG_2357_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOZAWKME6V9So8EypMZijb2gRAfrtgy5qupOmcLRai5FkIkz8UQqxszL60o5Bpq4NGUivushnlaIpI1e0_XVFQlx9CcbeLMHIOHqrORAVHS-z8xiY18v3G5dVraXwDRNIYDiDsncn1PXaH/s1600/IMG_2357_Fotor.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Meet Chan Lee. A retired science teacher from Taiwan, visiting Spain for the first time with a group of retired teachers. This was day one of their ten day trip. I think she has a great smile.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbFXHNrQQXt6bfJQTj9uED5H28IzaGopeR4WvfjVIqYK280PPau5i-3fjLR9wPqux-XTmUGpUX1Gv5y1wGGyWGSaCP7vT4ij3X1cS1s8kC8wYg40fPV-Uyxdi2g36Hrnd9pMBrXGvmCRf3/s1600/IMG_2153_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbFXHNrQQXt6bfJQTj9uED5H28IzaGopeR4WvfjVIqYK280PPau5i-3fjLR9wPqux-XTmUGpUX1Gv5y1wGGyWGSaCP7vT4ij3X1cS1s8kC8wYg40fPV-Uyxdi2g36Hrnd9pMBrXGvmCRf3/s1600/IMG_2153_Fotor.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Picnic by the river in Vic.</td></tr>
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and of course - i had to stumble upon a derelict building during my travels...</div>
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thefaceofgracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18143970995251531519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332620057624743619.post-13529733721836220082015-02-24T11:23:00.000-08:002015-03-03T15:21:03.599-08:00the next adventure: bonny scotland<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This last week has made me very appreciative. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Cups of tea. Home made food. Walking, exploring. Building, learning. Sharing, listening, conversing, story telling. Music -- jamming, improvising, watching. Enjoying. Appreciating. Resting. Reflecting. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I’ve met and stayed with some of the most welcoming and hospitable people. I’ve been fed and given a nice warm place to sleep; included in daily life and tasks and conversation. It is really nice to be involved and to feel like your input is valued. At both Tangleha House, St Cyrus and Inshriach House, Aviemore there’s always things happening, always plans to bring to fruition, whether it be building a deck or a greenhouse or feeding sheep or cooking for everyone. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I’ve really enjoyed being outside again - even though the weather has been pretty chilly and, at times, snowy. This area is magnificent. Bonny Scotland is nay bad at all. The combination of genuine, like-minded people and delicious food in a truly beautiful location plus having dogs to snuggle up with and a fire to sit in front of makes me very content.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Here are some snaps from the past week. Enjoy xx</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><u style="text-align: justify;">Tangleha<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-size: 11px;"> House, St Cyrus</span></u></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><u style="text-align: justify;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-size: 11px;">Cairngorm National Park & Inshriach House, Aviemore</span></u></span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Driving from Montrose to Aviemore through Cairngorm National Park</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc6iJ0R0mz8WJIyolor4L8NZjanc_2qSmweGuzTGuHefL9f_TpszdBr05xSuURFOfpATGQKOhWFP3lhU1BkCoYlZqbizJOkU6wWt238CMvntkTtCmcGnkthOWCP6p99agjgtbStUCH7mR9/s1600/DSC_0993_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc6iJ0R0mz8WJIyolor4L8NZjanc_2qSmweGuzTGuHefL9f_TpszdBr05xSuURFOfpATGQKOhWFP3lhU1BkCoYlZqbizJOkU6wWt238CMvntkTtCmcGnkthOWCP6p99agjgtbStUCH7mR9/s1600/DSC_0993_Fotor.jpg" height="427" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Photo by Martin Canale</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi793PM-dBAjef08kCrotrN1ZV0whsWP8huIuy4OOTFENSZu842KkQD9nK6O5JbjTRtz-40GE3v79vy7bfjtMJFR28wTCCR9C5GgPkRh5ElQHgK5j-kN38RpwoOTugT-cPx6vStMQQTPDnF/s1600/IMG_2003_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi793PM-dBAjef08kCrotrN1ZV0whsWP8huIuy4OOTFENSZu842KkQD9nK6O5JbjTRtz-40GE3v79vy7bfjtMJFR28wTCCR9C5GgPkRh5ElQHgK5j-kN38RpwoOTugT-cPx6vStMQQTPDnF/s1600/IMG_2003_Fotor.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">My excellent travel companion</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAUGwudupzoiYa1HPJOq3ZTsY-3eeYTL5lQxPQo2M88X8YjYHy8jfH-X4MWYGBwMeqyCTPobB43cZ2GZTlF9schFVVYEDoe6QwYNn2nMP5VcxCfx1fmYC-agBufXRfHbVOEC1LSv3Z2lzS/s1600/IMG_2032_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAUGwudupzoiYa1HPJOq3ZTsY-3eeYTL5lQxPQo2M88X8YjYHy8jfH-X4MWYGBwMeqyCTPobB43cZ2GZTlF9schFVVYEDoe6QwYNn2nMP5VcxCfx1fmYC-agBufXRfHbVOEC1LSv3Z2lzS/s1600/IMG_2032_Fotor.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Wandering through the woods on Inshriach Estate</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyzAQOAye6C7vNEGEhrZ1L63GhJSkuRZGqgUEuRQbTFx5kp1dY4S2X3741_MCP8TKldzgTyGBRJtpfrPXFPkgDqa3fci-Jw_r7OHFK-3wFpcYPtvc1mhZuJbeE9fWnNzHcprocpKG3z-7z/s1600/IMG_2058_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyzAQOAye6C7vNEGEhrZ1L63GhJSkuRZGqgUEuRQbTFx5kp1dY4S2X3741_MCP8TKldzgTyGBRJtpfrPXFPkgDqa3fci-Jw_r7OHFK-3wFpcYPtvc1mhZuJbeE9fWnNzHcprocpKG3z-7z/s1600/IMG_2058_Fotor.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Frozen lake</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJeU4BgnFfUyUjIFzkjrffVQXyxW_iTLzxJA9RMQwuh034zvg-32XRo6Bb5imciIyuYZB9zu5VFz8UT2MBZXa0_MASbSvZsFmTMq3No7OhN4sMwE9Oht_Zzuuwc6ydryDyD_NFcJoDUJCp/s1600/IMG_2078_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJeU4BgnFfUyUjIFzkjrffVQXyxW_iTLzxJA9RMQwuh034zvg-32XRo6Bb5imciIyuYZB9zu5VFz8UT2MBZXa0_MASbSvZsFmTMq3No7OhN4sMwE9Oht_Zzuuwc6ydryDyD_NFcJoDUJCp/s1600/IMG_2078_Fotor.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">The wood pile</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsj4hUfPymET4miHev_IEq9TzgSSTYoXnMjPOCUPPuGpdy8gWPhuZPyGgYVJ8-iXAdhyK-xG8CaMUX4uLYl397ZoiRwvfO0wwIFxScqw0QGfHLEd_EZTo2bRQJcG65MBuNAsCGZpkewFse/s1600/DSC_1174_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsj4hUfPymET4miHev_IEq9TzgSSTYoXnMjPOCUPPuGpdy8gWPhuZPyGgYVJ8-iXAdhyK-xG8CaMUX4uLYl397ZoiRwvfO0wwIFxScqw0QGfHLEd_EZTo2bRQJcG65MBuNAsCGZpkewFse/s1600/DSC_1174_Fotor.jpg" height="428" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Helping to build the greenhouse.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Photo by Martin Canale</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK5MQ-Vv921W3bBJN6e4-QHpTVBm9Xv9DBzeKfQYt1_NrQ48CnZ78yn9eOJsdLoQIRInMPeeLeS4T6sEBVlPqopbUcqEMJ8BJUUw_cze8dVE6QeL_-h5GhhsG91foEdhDYbqCHPjbZxwiW/s1600/DSC_1494_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK5MQ-Vv921W3bBJN6e4-QHpTVBm9Xv9DBzeKfQYt1_NrQ48CnZ78yn9eOJsdLoQIRInMPeeLeS4T6sEBVlPqopbUcqEMJ8BJUUw_cze8dVE6QeL_-h5GhhsG91foEdhDYbqCHPjbZxwiW/s1600/DSC_1494_Fotor.jpg" height="428" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Dream come true -- waking up to a thick layer of snow outside!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Photo by Martin Canale</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Gin is made here</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBAme_MM8kVxLNScPtGBG6Yw2NAuaRGfQP4BrW6gBxsGSSo-IYI4vLBRh1vb-6T0FIp9IwSYesVzDZWyZr4fFc1L9zGqbi19U2znbkk1n3rw7Y3vWYdaeymnV3jGRiGye3Vlk8InzREpeL/s1600/IMG_2009_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBAme_MM8kVxLNScPtGBG6Yw2NAuaRGfQP4BrW6gBxsGSSo-IYI4vLBRh1vb-6T0FIp9IwSYesVzDZWyZr4fFc1L9zGqbi19U2znbkk1n3rw7Y3vWYdaeymnV3jGRiGye3Vlk8InzREpeL/s1600/IMG_2009_Fotor.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Martin</span><br />
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thefaceofgracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18143970995251531519noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332620057624743619.post-51335419216094057182015-01-09T14:08:00.000-08:002015-01-16T14:27:27.456-08:00Where I’m At || Simple Living || Slowing Down<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">I wake up, open my eyes and see the blue pre-dawn light above me. Birds are waking too. I can hear them calling to each other. The ducks are chatting as well. And then during the day they continue conversing sporadically in that language of theirs. At night I hear owls just outside, so close to me. I hear the wood burner crackling. The water in the kettle heating to boiling temperature, ever so slowly. Then eventually the urgent, panicked whistle. I will have a cup of tea in an hour or so. I hear wind in the trees and their branches tapping gently on my window. I see the bright red glow of the embers in the burner through the three small opaque windows at the front. In the warm light of the morning I lie in my bed and look up through the window in the roof and watch the way the leaves and branches move in the breeze.</span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Have you ever given yourself the time to just sit and watch and listen, with no distractions? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Everything</b> is worth watching. I am learning how to appreciate the most simple things again. It’s okay to feel child-like and be in awe of a leaf or a blade of grass or the squelch of mud underfoot. Slow down. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I smell wood fire smoke. I smell incense. I smell ginger and garlic, sizzling slowly in my cast iron pan. I smell mud and rain. I smell liquorice tea, a new discovery for me as I usually don’t like liquorice. I feel warm on the inside and on the outside. (Is it the tea, the fire? Is it contentedness? Or is it a combination?) There is something so comforting about being a bit disconnected. I feel like for the last few months I have been taking a big, deep breath in, and now being here, I am able to breath out with a big sigh of relief and relax.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have been reminded of patience. I am enjoying the fact that nothing here is instant, and more than that, I can see the process happening in front of me. Chopping wood. Cleaning the ashes out of the burner. Lighting the fire. Waiting for it to heat up the truck, waiting for the kettle to boil, waiting for dinner to cook slowly. Filling up my water container. Reading and writing by candle-light. Re-using everything! (I’m collecting all the plastic I use while I’m in the truck to see how much I use and how much I can improve.) I am really trying to live more simply, more consciously, more appreciatively. It makes you realise how much we don't need things. We don’t need to wash our clothes as much. We don't need to shower so often. We don’t need screens. No TVs, phones, laptops! We don't need internet at our fingertips. We don’t need electricity. These things are useful but not necessities. There are always alternative ways of doing things. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am enjoying this life. I have more time and more freedom. I feel more free. I felt claustrophobic in Brighton. And I also felt a bit lonely. I was surrounded by people and things to do and see. But I still felt lonely. Overwhelmed. Here, in the truck, I am alone, but not lonely. I have no expectations here. It is how it is. I am happy to just be. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am so thankful for the experiences I have had over the last year. I am now understanding myself more. I need my own space. I need to spend time alone. I like hands on things. I enjoy chopping wood for a fire. I enjoy going to collect water. I enjoy slow-cooking. I enjoy waiting for the kettle to boil to have a cup of tea. I enjoy living out of town. I enjoy getting up half an hour earlier and driving to work. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I’ve come full circle. This is how I grew up. Simply. Slowly. It is familiar. It is comforting. And it is how I want to continue to live. I am making plans in my head. Things to do when I return to Australia. And happiness is my priority.</span></div>
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thefaceofgracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18143970995251531519noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332620057624743619.post-11017620397782214892014-11-28T15:30:00.003-08:002014-11-29T01:11:05.825-08:00|| G R A T I T U D E ||<div style="text-align: justify;">
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I've had tears in my eyes a lot of late. At first it was tears because I was completely overwhelmed. Then it was tears of self-hate. Then it was tears of sadness and loss and confusion. And more recently there have been tears of hope. Tears of gratitude. Of pure enjoyment and delight and excitement. </div>
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The past year, as you probably already know by my other blogs, has been massive. Full of changes and challenges, surprises, lessons, love, experiences.. It has included some of the most difficult things I have had to deal with and also some of the most amazing, positive experiences and opportunities in my life, thus far. I've had more ups and downs than a merry-go-round. I've been the saddest I've ever been and also the happiest. I've been utterly depressed with life and I have also been just ridiculously excited about life and its possibilities. Big decisions have been made, and important lessons have been learnt. And, of course, the more I learn, the more I realise I don't know. And that is actually an incredibly refreshing realisation. </div>
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But the reason for writing this blog is <b>gratitude</b>. I am grateful for so much. <b>So much!</b> Recently my emotions have been going a bit crazy. My family visited which completely threw me. I have had more than a year of missing them beyond words. Counting down the days, the hours, until I could see them next, and I was totally blessed to have my parents and my nephew come over to visit me for a very special 21st birthday. And it was strange and unreal to see them at first. And then we just slipped back into being completely comfortable with each other. Straight back into feeling all the nuances and dynamics of family life. </div>
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The first morning in Tremezzo I woke up and sat outside in the sunshine, and through the trees I could see Lake Como sparkling. The immense beauty, not just of the sparkling lake and the trees, but also of the situation, the reality of having my family together again after more than a year was just so inordinately wonderful that it brought me to tears. It was painful. I was feeling real, physical pain in my body from gratitude and thankfulness. How lucky I am to be loved and surrounded and supported by these incredible people. </div>
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But of course, families can be testing. I think subconsciously I was telling myself that it'd be easier for us to part again if it wasn't peachy. I was grumpy. On the night before my birthday I barely got any sleep so when it came to being host at my little birthday gathering I struggled. I wasn't feeling social. And then I felt guilty for not wanting to interact and enjoy the company of the people who I care most about. That caused tears. And I was genuinely upset that night. I did, for a small portion of the night, genuinely hate myself. I felt sickened by who I was. By my behaviour and my inability to appreciate the presence of all of these people who love me and who I love, deeply. (Even now, I find it difficult to admit and accept and even say that there really are people who love me here. It is sometimes easier to feel a little lonely, especially now, when at the back of my mind I'm always reminded of the fact that I will be going back to Australia in 8 months...) But, love prevails, doesn't it. It's not just the stuff of fairytales and romantic films.. My birthday was spectacular. And the night ended in laughter, tears and laughter, and cake and games and music. And really it was exactly as I'd hoped it to be. </div>
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And then it finished, almost as soon as it had begun. And I found myself saying goodbye to my family again, at a train station. Crying and feeling my heart being wrenched from my chest and stomped on. And then the paranoia set in. I don't have a house, no fixed abode, no cosy bedroom to go home to, no where that is mine. I don't have my van yet, and will my savings really cover all the costs..? I don't have anything planned or organised for the next couple of months, or for the next 8 months really.. There's vague ideas.. And I was feeling lost again. Left on the other side of the world, again. With no real plan, just an idea.. And I'd convinced everyone, including myself that it'd be sweet! Fuck.</div>
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And then all of a sudden, the stress of trying to organise all my belongings and where I'm going to sleep and how I'm going to go about viewing vans when I don't have a clue what I'm looking for and how I'm going to get there when public transport is constantly delayed or cancelled got to me, and there just isn't time to be feeling sorry for myself. I'm busy. I'm taking the reins and I am getting on with life. I'm excited. And I have been so amazed at how generous and giving people are. In the last couple of days, I have been given a bed to sleep in, I've been cooked for, I've had people buy meals for me, I've been given lifts, I've had friends who I haven't spoken to in ages ring up to give me advice on vans and engines, I've had a friend offer me his van, and another friend lend me her car! The universe rewards you when you take a huge leap into the unknown. And I feel so calm and excited and trusting when I think about what is yet to come. And that has caused tears too. I am feeling so much gratitude for the people around me, the opportunities, the unknown, that again, I find myself with tears in my eyes and a smile on my face. And this is how I felt a year ago when I took a leap and came overseas to a city I'd never visited with no plan, no job, no house, and survived. More than survived - THRIVED! This time has been different though. This time, I have been blessed by having friends around me to support me, cuddle me, encourage me and believe in me. <u>I am not alone.</u> I've come full circle. I'm ready to go again. There's new and exciting opportunities awaiting me. Places waiting to be explored, people waiting to be met.</div>
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So, off I go again, into the big wide world. See you there. xxx<br />
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thefaceofgracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18143970995251531519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332620057624743619.post-24717784789837462532014-11-25T16:08:00.001-08:002014-11-28T08:51:11.444-08:00my 21st birthday & family reunion<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="text-align: justify;">for my 21st birthday my parents and my nephew Taliesin came to visit. we met in Milan and went to Tremezzo, Lake Como for 10 days where we stayed in a beautiful villa. during our time there my sister Anouk and her kids, Sidera & Rollie joined us, as well as our friends Max, Zylvia & Andreas from Germany, my friend Tiana from the US and my friend Joe from the UK. it was such an incredible family reunion & such a special 21st birthday gift. </span><br />
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i took a ridiculous amount of photographs, which i have not had time to go through or edit. but enjoy the following selection of photographs, taken during the time i got to spend with my family in Italy, France and the UK.</div>
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<b><u>Portraits - Tremezzo & Paris</u></b></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2TRou3_wErQv10ktjEYfdaW1zcRkC8jRKxyvdZ5a4x4knKkUjzzV7wYFhsjwVD0F_VrY3js-hsi0wEkLqVeEPSyBSU8zzVdTvgVYsFz6RGfj0w_5PQtzcK31O_TnKei09KOxNtoWex2t1/s1600/IMG_0610_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2TRou3_wErQv10ktjEYfdaW1zcRkC8jRKxyvdZ5a4x4knKkUjzzV7wYFhsjwVD0F_VrY3js-hsi0wEkLqVeEPSyBSU8zzVdTvgVYsFz6RGfj0w_5PQtzcK31O_TnKei09KOxNtoWex2t1/s1600/IMG_0610_Fotor.jpg" height="640" width="454" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rollie, Tremezzo</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFhQaNkfxeGJ84ed755aGbzGJbGsKTknCFZfk_CUjDnqElPack0cPWXxJD04wKuxEsyPon7X01BTUyX-Qv02FtU2Va8JLnX6_XsrJCYzG1NMoplw9_BpNbhZ05AmUrL6Bqhg3ckcylE06P/s1600/IMG_1161_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFhQaNkfxeGJ84ed755aGbzGJbGsKTknCFZfk_CUjDnqElPack0cPWXxJD04wKuxEsyPon7X01BTUyX-Qv02FtU2Va8JLnX6_XsrJCYzG1NMoplw9_BpNbhZ05AmUrL6Bqhg3ckcylE06P/s1600/IMG_1161_Fotor.jpg" height="640" width="456" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dad, Dieppe</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE-RepdiajFo0DZuq4U50rMUrt3SHEGhaN3o_qnsMYqjnzV9LbtBWNXXFEQ4NSOSPyxkXVtipLIjgONhNcjE83otMHhNVx9wcpMjDqPZdxT_8DNPOdkSvtg9FpxdcaJbKG1mpSaAP9KOoJ/s1600/IMG_0640_Fotorjpg_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE-RepdiajFo0DZuq4U50rMUrt3SHEGhaN3o_qnsMYqjnzV9LbtBWNXXFEQ4NSOSPyxkXVtipLIjgONhNcjE83otMHhNVx9wcpMjDqPZdxT_8DNPOdkSvtg9FpxdcaJbKG1mpSaAP9KOoJ/s1600/IMG_0640_Fotorjpg_Fotor.jpg" height="640" width="420" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rollie & Mum, Tremezzo</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyXj_pYs1cQOnvbT9adQuMvb_5TRvPFVmmpeVfkofqSEZqs0TazI46w44Y57JDHVG6vBL9SsRVW0zdeFRKC3Dkrl4pUbwCXNWvXIPRXb_hvUbyXsoGoqHCii1V33cTI03BQCUOwAqY7PT8/s1600/IMG_0718_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyXj_pYs1cQOnvbT9adQuMvb_5TRvPFVmmpeVfkofqSEZqs0TazI46w44Y57JDHVG6vBL9SsRVW0zdeFRKC3Dkrl4pUbwCXNWvXIPRXb_hvUbyXsoGoqHCii1V33cTI03BQCUOwAqY7PT8/s1600/IMG_0718_Fotor.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sidera, Tremezzo</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpNQ4UEC_eiX5r1_YDERTEIDyrG7QOWYFVTrMTnoRVaysWuIVMs5eXB_1QQYvQBIFQePmrVuRoReDEln199SjM5m8kt4uvOIU8tPmh72LJLgq2oE8Bn-nqbj_Az4J6V2kmtsxN71QcDa8z/s1600/IMG_0773_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpNQ4UEC_eiX5r1_YDERTEIDyrG7QOWYFVTrMTnoRVaysWuIVMs5eXB_1QQYvQBIFQePmrVuRoReDEln199SjM5m8kt4uvOIU8tPmh72LJLgq2oE8Bn-nqbj_Az4J6V2kmtsxN71QcDa8z/s1600/IMG_0773_Fotor.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Anouk, Tremezzo</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieCRk8tuYprJsr92kPSnX7CahKYopcDZ9o918MfVD99ZMTjLS_YovoGUV1w8-Nn5OrVQn6-Exu1qd740T1HwsBsRzWCbIAtNvu_6N9944kvTgTzpvM0R4pIeuqdV9xjhkF1swtm3_z1L67/s1600/IMG_1177_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieCRk8tuYprJsr92kPSnX7CahKYopcDZ9o918MfVD99ZMTjLS_YovoGUV1w8-Nn5OrVQn6-Exu1qd740T1HwsBsRzWCbIAtNvu_6N9944kvTgTzpvM0R4pIeuqdV9xjhkF1swtm3_z1L67/s1600/IMG_1177_Fotor.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Taliesin, Dieppe</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeFuaevHkH5lsVjy_JfFiNRefUwVCBU1lX_3FWaLFRgzeLTaql_VZSdjADdHR2cRYe39z2DZ4_SRlR3uZYVw6MTh4bELfl6xbnhgguoOV7sdY7S6XLWJQLoOg-GpJWAMyq8u9vgSUvcKvO/s1600/IMG_0908_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeFuaevHkH5lsVjy_JfFiNRefUwVCBU1lX_3FWaLFRgzeLTaql_VZSdjADdHR2cRYe39z2DZ4_SRlR3uZYVw6MTh4bELfl6xbnhgguoOV7sdY7S6XLWJQLoOg-GpJWAMyq8u9vgSUvcKvO/s1600/IMG_0908_Fotor.jpg" height="640" width="384" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dreadlocked man, Paris</td></tr>
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<b><u><br /></u></b><b><u>Boats, Tremezzo & Dieppe</u></b><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVFPsSTJMagpCiQ8JW_u9bwJjH0MdQpVfOq725UOfWNVQOPqwjle1sRz0IjtgyMJbjwO2cSOXbign3vhA85hZ6gMrRK1Q9ekBu6_v13Kp9m7Vg_rvLP3woWaEZCkUPEO9_A0DcGEwwY4RT/s1600/IMG_1012_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVFPsSTJMagpCiQ8JW_u9bwJjH0MdQpVfOq725UOfWNVQOPqwjle1sRz0IjtgyMJbjwO2cSOXbign3vhA85hZ6gMrRK1Q9ekBu6_v13Kp9m7Vg_rvLP3woWaEZCkUPEO9_A0DcGEwwY4RT/s1600/IMG_1012_Fotor.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fishing Boat, Dieppe</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1dm9uHzsbYtVNV9IaG1PhD4h3VDseBtKkBbo5A-VfqI8rvqvb5hAT0pbLNLA4cX6YZd8DjYXhJpBxWR00-FMw4dggqjD8nlsztkJvmCt4hu0p30R0XklA-f5OZ8KUx8ZcBA7Wg3rMtAYB/s1600/IMG_1171_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1dm9uHzsbYtVNV9IaG1PhD4h3VDseBtKkBbo5A-VfqI8rvqvb5hAT0pbLNLA4cX6YZd8DjYXhJpBxWR00-FMw4dggqjD8nlsztkJvmCt4hu0p30R0XklA-f5OZ8KUx8ZcBA7Wg3rMtAYB/s1600/IMG_1171_Fotor.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Boat, Dieppe</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg65nKxZT40idwor0t6l97aG__ZyfUgWsLVt-rYC6BUI21Ld3p77UdRDxNJvPcrhWrYM2yQheyRHD_A-hZ5KP8UgSX1b5FzoorNPT5sEHQe55v_c_Coh-NMNW4HpazV9xfB_vQIpDE190Cf/s1600/IMG_1006_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg65nKxZT40idwor0t6l97aG__ZyfUgWsLVt-rYC6BUI21Ld3p77UdRDxNJvPcrhWrYM2yQheyRHD_A-hZ5KP8UgSX1b5FzoorNPT5sEHQe55v_c_Coh-NMNW4HpazV9xfB_vQIpDE190Cf/s1600/IMG_1006_Fotor.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fishing Boat, Dieppe</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7N9TB53as00qC3hs23iefYy30t8uKdx6VUCeRgWFwE9yzHcLG6DAHs6Q0IzZd8B8ojJy51UrcPYvxHZ39pAk70DTE_RPBd1-kpygfhpr8AnhJVBkF7-H6dTfIIOOISkYh-Y4ahSJ5TWnT/s1600/IMG_0656_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7N9TB53as00qC3hs23iefYy30t8uKdx6VUCeRgWFwE9yzHcLG6DAHs6Q0IzZd8B8ojJy51UrcPYvxHZ39pAk70DTE_RPBd1-kpygfhpr8AnhJVBkF7-H6dTfIIOOISkYh-Y4ahSJ5TWnT/s1600/IMG_0656_Fotor.jpg" height="456" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Passenger Ferry, Tremezzo</td></tr>
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<b><u>Landscapes, Tremezzo</u></b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg59Kk3F9GkOX3WAvpBu7t9tLrE4tGs4t8uAc7hzgwUFKqc7pOUdR450hKteVVHU5g4kw9vzgu3jF8i-yQRH5-B5Ijz8j7caJz2n6qOy9uW5Ro_ES0PBuLDDSWbTRYIesKfH5lq-TgcyG1y/s1600/IMG_0762_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg59Kk3F9GkOX3WAvpBu7t9tLrE4tGs4t8uAc7hzgwUFKqc7pOUdR450hKteVVHU5g4kw9vzgu3jF8i-yQRH5-B5Ijz8j7caJz2n6qOy9uW5Ro_ES0PBuLDDSWbTRYIesKfH5lq-TgcyG1y/s1600/IMG_0762_Fotor.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b><u>Abandoned House in Dieppe</u></b><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSkeav5MQef57VZsQTpn321sv112AatjzhGiJ8_3ut6EyPKE0JAVr3gBesoxeiIz3_1JsE31eVJ2pE9TrXi__xJq9gJnHD5sD45u_SKCSMej83tVHjJGhsi86-UVPCLwrWzA98R0_okQ2R/s1600/IMG_1041_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSkeav5MQef57VZsQTpn321sv112AatjzhGiJ8_3ut6EyPKE0JAVr3gBesoxeiIz3_1JsE31eVJ2pE9TrXi__xJq9gJnHD5sD45u_SKCSMej83tVHjJGhsi86-UVPCLwrWzA98R0_okQ2R/s1600/IMG_1041_Fotor.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Doll's Leg, Dieppe</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs1iDR_Cqx-AfJjKQfR8v-NwTI4O63XWaLQKS2c7ebg1E4FkryAbbjupx2_yT9s8yLqKVqx5ZTHDQ8I1Nw_fqGXwaKagpnbTSXF5sBz7N7rF_-vaBaAVZOXgwxVN6vuHh4lVF3JNniA3v1/s1600/IMG_1043_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs1iDR_Cqx-AfJjKQfR8v-NwTI4O63XWaLQKS2c7ebg1E4FkryAbbjupx2_yT9s8yLqKVqx5ZTHDQ8I1Nw_fqGXwaKagpnbTSXF5sBz7N7rF_-vaBaAVZOXgwxVN6vuHh4lVF3JNniA3v1/s1600/IMG_1043_Fotor.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Doll, Dieppe</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgZ4Pu0ISgzUSNGcgvxGI3dEIHy05fHSwJJ4QYmiBxuW47cW-3Hmw31woy9TFbXA8POOJKX7Xu0K_e_0FnsKmoqKRYK3x9pZiOTCUy7g1m3G2mbvYvxJMqNfaXJa5mVhl6UahERTetN9C8/s1600/IMG_1053_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgZ4Pu0ISgzUSNGcgvxGI3dEIHy05fHSwJJ4QYmiBxuW47cW-3Hmw31woy9TFbXA8POOJKX7Xu0K_e_0FnsKmoqKRYK3x9pZiOTCUy7g1m3G2mbvYvxJMqNfaXJa5mVhl6UahERTetN9C8/s1600/IMG_1053_Fotor.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Abandoned House, Dieppe</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUIjKL2JQQbBrECHUAdkhjUVtKhmQY_GUlBlb7AJGPGgbjj0KNbgy1Nh0rIKy148zI0AHxqxz1NFqL0Z8jAmolTatNW9raEElyRmUKLBTsrk2fNyVv81bsRRHc77KPln8WFIcAOhHDb4ha/s1600/IMG_1055_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUIjKL2JQQbBrECHUAdkhjUVtKhmQY_GUlBlb7AJGPGgbjj0KNbgy1Nh0rIKy148zI0AHxqxz1NFqL0Z8jAmolTatNW9raEElyRmUKLBTsrk2fNyVv81bsRRHc77KPln8WFIcAOhHDb4ha/s1600/IMG_1055_Fotor.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Abandoned House, Dieppe</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLVsx6jzUaeiau8Xh5pG_yRSSEM7M1HHTp_-hhYC7ZQdVjc2kPVZi-yzUgyWgJLey_m-3zWZDc-wxrkxwuWe_ZMuDEoiksylUw_TjkY-sVkFvLm-C1skVNqQgt0xTI_aM76bo2Hto61tqZ/s1600/IMG_1056_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLVsx6jzUaeiau8Xh5pG_yRSSEM7M1HHTp_-hhYC7ZQdVjc2kPVZi-yzUgyWgJLey_m-3zWZDc-wxrkxwuWe_ZMuDEoiksylUw_TjkY-sVkFvLm-C1skVNqQgt0xTI_aM76bo2Hto61tqZ/s1600/IMG_1056_Fotor.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Abandoned House, Dieppe</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp-9uZ135w-vzU8FiPIHtuX374cTX25eCetj8JD-51txfQ8yakTCbnWlDndcwmrh-cbcCZfAs3Buq52ob0nsmJHLLbEu_woPS8LhtzsgYRGbsSi8GaOqlJWifODb654SueEmio_uyGXrP0/s1600/IMG_1093_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp-9uZ135w-vzU8FiPIHtuX374cTX25eCetj8JD-51txfQ8yakTCbnWlDndcwmrh-cbcCZfAs3Buq52ob0nsmJHLLbEu_woPS8LhtzsgYRGbsSi8GaOqlJWifODb654SueEmio_uyGXrP0/s1600/IMG_1093_Fotor.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Abandoned House, Dieppe</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-w-YjWQXwgRivQm_np1cYR6dbQfBm1hxGDEJTIf5feRBc_mXuMxz_9C9z9llY9d-0DmCAVoV5n8fR8G-s6hD15HthTqz6VnhUhmxhGmP91MiKL6busUJnVCHWX2QbGyBhoDmvHKqEZQap/s1600/IMG_1153_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-w-YjWQXwgRivQm_np1cYR6dbQfBm1hxGDEJTIf5feRBc_mXuMxz_9C9z9llY9d-0DmCAVoV5n8fR8G-s6hD15HthTqz6VnhUhmxhGmP91MiKL6busUJnVCHWX2QbGyBhoDmvHKqEZQap/s1600/IMG_1153_Fotor.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Abandoned House, Dieppe</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBHy5vpryAdLtj0ZBA0RpfWqRwwEPjNf4GXwzZb4n1yCM_9njsecjUdBUNAz3q-K2XHbvIyDMbqvCZFG661C5iVMS2jTSaH89T1eHw5X4q7a1AeD2ciY2iQoVegdbpwrj4hjJDEw_HVyn3/s1600/IMG_1158_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBHy5vpryAdLtj0ZBA0RpfWqRwwEPjNf4GXwzZb4n1yCM_9njsecjUdBUNAz3q-K2XHbvIyDMbqvCZFG661C5iVMS2jTSaH89T1eHw5X4q7a1AeD2ciY2iQoVegdbpwrj4hjJDEw_HVyn3/s1600/IMG_1158_Fotor.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Abandoned House, Dieppe</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Abandoned House, Dieppe</td></tr>
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<b><u>Sunset at Land's End, Penzance</u></b><br />
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more pictures to come, eventually! xx<br />
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<br />thefaceofgracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18143970995251531519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332620057624743619.post-28047983520678467512014-10-13T22:08:00.000-07:002014-11-28T13:35:53.198-08:00a visit to the republic of irelandrecently, i went to southern ireland with no plans, my camera & a change of clothes.<br />
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She said "You have weird hobbies" and I stopped and thought for a moment. Yes, I suppose I do have quite strange hobbies and interests. Much of my time in Ireland has been spent climbing over fences into abandoned buildings and exploring and taking photos and imagining times gone by. Everywhere I have travelled I have spent time in cemeteries, reading the grave stones, conjuring up pictures of those who have left us in my head. Imagining the families left behind. I find it fascinating to be given a name and a date and then you can just let your imagination do the rest. It's the same with abandoned, falling down, dilapidated buildings - you get this little insight into what once was, and you can almost see it in its glory days. And then you see it fast forward over time to what it is now.. deteriorated, left, abandoned, disused, not needed anymore. What happened? Why was it left? What stories come from inside? Who worked there? </div>
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I love travelling alone, to funny little places, falling down areas, farmland, old industrial towns.. There's always things to look at. You don't have to deal with hundreds of tourists; it is cheap as chips (especially if you're couch surfing) and there's so much time and space - no queues, no tickets for entry. Not many restrictions at all. Perhaps it is a tad selfish, wanting to travel this way, but I guess at the same time as giving me a huge amount of freedom, it also tests my capability as a solo traveller, and also as a person. It is funny - I have times where I crave solitude, but also times where I want nothing more than to be with people, interacting, engaging, conversing.. I guess travelling alone actually does, in a funny way, make you need to speak to strangers more, whether it be asking for directions or hitching or finding a place to stay, through couch surfing or other ways.. It pushes you into interacting with strangers out of necessity, rather than being isolated in your travelling group. And I like that. It gives you the opportunity to make quite solid connections quite quickly and then you move on. You might keep in contact, you might not. But from my experience, the memories are fond ones and will stick with me for years to come.</div>
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The first portrait below is of a lovely Irishman named Micheál. I wandered into his second hand book shop in Ballinasloe.. The first thing he did was offer me a cup of tea, which I gladly accepted. He reminded me a bit of Billy Connolly with his big moustache and long grey hair and his animated way of speaking - with such enthusiasm! I have to say, there was a bit of confusion on my part for a significant portion of our 2 hour long conversation! I struggled with the accent a bit. He spoke very quickly - but I had no trouble understanding him when he referred to the "feckin bastards!" He told me all about his travels to Australia and about friends who had come back to visit him. He told me about his Irish heritage and things he used to do as a child ("ooh how the times have changed.."). He told me about his boat and about his grown up children, with such pride. He let me take his photo and gave me his business card. And when I went to purchase the book I'd been looking at he just said, "have it, it's been grand chattin' to ya!" We shook hands and parted ways. But it wouldn't surprise me if we ran into each other again somewhere along the way...</div>
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<u>portraits</u> || clara / ballinasloe / dublin<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;">
Micheál, The Oat Gallery, Ballinasloe</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Woman, Dublin</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr98eoFuPO4KQyZU6Rm3QFvNMytE9k_ygLh91QjYIMsi5w_FYPqjLPiOTOnWL8dZbtmVYD9oOnpeQOalaME9Fbnn5mK_FkaXiNXYnyL_M6OVfcGQTz7rKC4OHlpw5EIUdyX3EFPGCyp_us/s1600/IMG_0441_Fotor+BW.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr98eoFuPO4KQyZU6Rm3QFvNMytE9k_ygLh91QjYIMsi5w_FYPqjLPiOTOnWL8dZbtmVYD9oOnpeQOalaME9Fbnn5mK_FkaXiNXYnyL_M6OVfcGQTz7rKC4OHlpw5EIUdyX3EFPGCyp_us/s1600/IMG_0441_Fotor+BW.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Street Performer, Dublin<br />
Performing songs by Edith Piaf</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU5w3D_24j9FXXIPoA2snhRrcOAIZhiyVbsnFJ82xRdJhOT79_zI8g_ulSwIfBnLSf7Joa0HjIVqa1hFxLCgwPBA2P6khp7-5Aqjpd0TPcJUE3_KUUVPDAZiDX39v7hyphenhypheng0QDaxcI2uKz2x/s1600/IMG_0450_Fotor+BW.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU5w3D_24j9FXXIPoA2snhRrcOAIZhiyVbsnFJ82xRdJhOT79_zI8g_ulSwIfBnLSf7Joa0HjIVqa1hFxLCgwPBA2P6khp7-5Aqjpd0TPcJUE3_KUUVPDAZiDX39v7hyphenhypheng0QDaxcI2uKz2x/s1600/IMG_0450_Fotor+BW.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Busker, Dublin</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2dHAvKasRixgJG78YG7FS0WEDUIRCDOsFw9Vpzf-7ua4ypi7u42SVt6IJDLlY-zF0XvY8DMQ__G8o_bAZ5xCjXK1-yE3p3rQdozdNsoWD9qydjfc_8I7OgouUmUSP5h3T6SzgcapAqoMd/s1600/IMG_9955_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2dHAvKasRixgJG78YG7FS0WEDUIRCDOsFw9Vpzf-7ua4ypi7u42SVt6IJDLlY-zF0XvY8DMQ__G8o_bAZ5xCjXK1-yE3p3rQdozdNsoWD9qydjfc_8I7OgouUmUSP5h3T6SzgcapAqoMd/s1600/IMG_9955_Fotor.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Self Portrait, Ballinasloe</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<u>inchmore house, clara</u> || abandoned stately home</div>
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<u>wanderings</u> || clara & ballinasloe</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj28ZViEN3MYOgLqfcfQwVbF2mvnvSSIQ2srTcfi8VUTsBi6-EB6R7U3etLMr0DchdfgLagNA64uRqUatBSFw47tPrxXcGXc3gia6tc6EKbXTgZqj8wXOnoSmRcGvlMnea4KTZLH9IvxzH6/s1600/IMG_0030_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj28ZViEN3MYOgLqfcfQwVbF2mvnvSSIQ2srTcfi8VUTsBi6-EB6R7U3etLMr0DchdfgLagNA64uRqUatBSFw47tPrxXcGXc3gia6tc6EKbXTgZqj8wXOnoSmRcGvlMnea4KTZLH9IvxzH6/s1600/IMG_0030_Fotor.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Abandoned Mill, Clara</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpf_J03iCEmWxujHXVYm_8UMgkS8cChjJ_9Y4AmW0B0Xj0Pd2QSaiXvYViXSa8tV9vy3PbTiC-0KKfRmUR6u63D4ause5wiPcspcy6kKn0djxuktd8YgxIk3jTI0plDVpJL0qVRjLGC40D/s1600/IMG_0120_Fotor+BW.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpf_J03iCEmWxujHXVYm_8UMgkS8cChjJ_9Y4AmW0B0Xj0Pd2QSaiXvYViXSa8tV9vy3PbTiC-0KKfRmUR6u63D4ause5wiPcspcy6kKn0djxuktd8YgxIk3jTI0plDVpJL0qVRjLGC40D/s1600/IMG_0120_Fotor+BW.jpg" height="640" width="456" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">St Brigid's Hospital<br />
<a href="http://www.historyireland.com/18th-19th-century-history/tales-from-the-big-house-the-connacht-district-lunatic-asylum-in-the-late-nineteenth-century/" target="_blank">"Lunatic Asylum"</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZdb3uVhy5IE6dL99Gnk0jB58G6SUipH8Uqv1-JTq1t6LlarKm0oh4PeDmIYV5Vu0t-R0sVdssYyzlvqlEt5nTvM8jGisGqJNIP5lvOm9yVI5Bgk2bL4nwr8BVIts7eBlmkjo_LypmtHzr/s1600/IMG_0178_Fotor+BW.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZdb3uVhy5IE6dL99Gnk0jB58G6SUipH8Uqv1-JTq1t6LlarKm0oh4PeDmIYV5Vu0t-R0sVdssYyzlvqlEt5nTvM8jGisGqJNIP5lvOm9yVI5Bgk2bL4nwr8BVIts7eBlmkjo_LypmtHzr/s1600/IMG_0178_Fotor+BW.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Abandoned Warehouse, Ballinasloe</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbOM-jrl1wRL5aNGY4vNyMUFMJUdogNlDtJ_ejbihOrqI_S_rhblqYIfhVHXItq_lG7S-wEa-MjvXlRHUHtRN31heUrd9if7TjEXJ9bAyY6cFbmpXP2vCkhOv1QRlO5S-4HD8P0qoe71CS/s1600/IMG_0181_Fotor+BW.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbOM-jrl1wRL5aNGY4vNyMUFMJUdogNlDtJ_ejbihOrqI_S_rhblqYIfhVHXItq_lG7S-wEa-MjvXlRHUHtRN31heUrd9if7TjEXJ9bAyY6cFbmpXP2vCkhOv1QRlO5S-4HD8P0qoe71CS/s1600/IMG_0181_Fotor+BW.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Abandoned Warehouse, Ballinasloe</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXpCvGRcj9saj_LxFVYxfgiFhzTBOcjXz7GzV_sNG6j0mLj-Bm7IsIbx_1kIcToOiyC0UF6RA1Dip9_8Jk3mQPBExKGkSlqUwfWUOJF6cAn7EfKoufc5VStRJ_fEfM1rXTT7Ru0j3Kzdio/s1600/IMG_0201_Fotor+BW.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXpCvGRcj9saj_LxFVYxfgiFhzTBOcjXz7GzV_sNG6j0mLj-Bm7IsIbx_1kIcToOiyC0UF6RA1Dip9_8Jk3mQPBExKGkSlqUwfWUOJF6cAn7EfKoufc5VStRJ_fEfM1rXTT7Ru0j3Kzdio/s1600/IMG_0201_Fotor+BW.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">House, Ballinasloe</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimMZauD9HnM0tEwLT_yC2pFk3BUtFr47QrTIQl0DgEIcYnagURfjBAteT4dRW0zDoBGwHQ2fba4Gh21zrvE3leAsaHvshpv0iiqrEB0U0KYXn-slTv9SZWiHH7Pcq1tNOLT_yyDgu_kMpd/s1600/IMG_0204_Fotor+BW.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimMZauD9HnM0tEwLT_yC2pFk3BUtFr47QrTIQl0DgEIcYnagURfjBAteT4dRW0zDoBGwHQ2fba4Gh21zrvE3leAsaHvshpv0iiqrEB0U0KYXn-slTv9SZWiHH7Pcq1tNOLT_yyDgu_kMpd/s1600/IMG_0204_Fotor+BW.jpg" height="456" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">St Brigid's Hospital, Ballinasloe<br />
<a href="http://www.historyireland.com/18th-19th-century-history/tales-from-the-big-house-the-connacht-district-lunatic-asylum-in-the-late-nineteenth-century/" target="_blank">"Lunatic Asylum"</a></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Opposite St Brigid's Hospital, Ballinasloe</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMC0eky1GwF1NX_BHTM2JytuZTzPWfC_Dme6Rzm7ynUQcZh_u4yEamAehNty_bLA8WmZ0wqyyN54r_9emK20d-tibmxcDpc4A80D71Fx2SFzhwL4PTu5_4tJOFPFFdaENQEOeK3yclD8RD/s1600/IMG_0233_Fotor+BW.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMC0eky1GwF1NX_BHTM2JytuZTzPWfC_Dme6Rzm7ynUQcZh_u4yEamAehNty_bLA8WmZ0wqyyN54r_9emK20d-tibmxcDpc4A80D71Fx2SFzhwL4PTu5_4tJOFPFFdaENQEOeK3yclD8RD/s1600/IMG_0233_Fotor+BW.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">St Brigid's Hospital, Ballinasloe</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Derelict Building, Clara</td></tr>
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In the dark of the morning, before the sun had risen, I was on a train back to Dublin from Clara.</div>
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<i>Mist is rising over the frosty fields. The sky is just becoming light with tones of orange and purple - a beautiful backdrop for the silhouettes of cows and trees and barbed wire fences. We are plunged into darkness when trees line the tracks and then emerge back out into the light as the foliage peters out. Part of me wants to get my camera out. But the photos wouldn't do it justice. I think I will just have to enjoy it.</i></div>
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And once the sun was up, I did get my camera out!</div>
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Thanks for reading!</div>
<br />thefaceofgracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18143970995251531519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332620057624743619.post-89842979612488732232014-09-29T15:09:00.000-07:002015-02-25T08:34:34.323-08:00being brave in the modern world<div style="text-align: justify;">
I have been a bit withdrawn. Overwhelmed by life and emotions and relationships and fear and missing home and feeling isolated and feeling surrounded and unsure and ecstatic and depressed. It has been an unusual and challenging time and a definitive learning curve for me.</div>
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Usually when I am feeling confused or upset, I write. I write in my journal and try my best to articulately and honestly express how I am feeling in the hope that I can understand those feelings more and do something to bring the positivity back! However, over the last few months, I could not write. I did not know what to write. The words were gone. I couldn't explain how I was feeling. I did not know how I was feeling but there wasn't a great deal of happiness. (And I wasn't fully aware of that until a close friend commented that over the last few months there had been a 'sadness about me' and that they had been unsure of how to approach me because I kept myself locked away from everyone. This was upsetting. But something I needed to hear.) As much as I don't want to talk about this sadness or dwell on it, I feel it is important to express what happened, for me, so that if I feel that way again, I know how to get out of it. And I understand the effect it has on those around me. Because I really could feel myself becoming increasingly withdrawn and unsatisfied with my life, what I'm doing with it and who I associate with (and it upsets me that I was feeling that way towards people whom I hold in such high regard).</div>
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I guess I have just been on massive year-long roller coaster... and I have been having the most important, painful, challenging, educational, emotional experiences I've ever had. The biggest challenge for me is being kind. My housemate Lula often reminds me to 'be kind to myself' and I always find myself ignoring her advice. But my Mum tells me the same thing, she says 'don't castigate yourself, Grace!' I am very hard on myself. And I am also very hard on other people. Too hard. And I think that because of that sometimes I cripple myself. I am so afraid of failure that I won't even let myself try. I expect other people to be as hard on me as I am on myself. But people are very forgiving, and understanding. And encouraging! We all make mistakes, and if we didn't, we would not learn. And, boy I have been learning a lot!</div>
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I rely a lot on other people for my happiness. Far too much. (And you might think, it's okay to be happy because of other people. You're quite right. But my happiness cannot and will not be determined by someone else's actions. I want people to add to my happiness. I want to share my happiness with others and I want to be able to let people share their happiness with me - and also their grief and excitement and nervousness and everything.) But I also need to be brave enough to not rely on people, and even more so, not blame other people when I am unhappy. </div>
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I am completely, irrationally scared of doing things by myself.. (untrue, you might say - you went overseas to a place you had never been, where you knew no one, had no job, no house, no plan...and have lasted a year and counting). I am capable, but I am still learning, very slowly. In my own time. I have been quietly proud of myself lately - I've had a couple of little victories. For example, I have been going climbing with a friend of mine, and getting quite into it. But I have only been going with him. And feeling a bit like I'm following him around once we're there, relying on him to tell me which climbs to try. So I thought, I can do this myself. I need to be brave and just do it; not analyse it or think about it, just do it. And I did. I went climbing, by myself, for a good 2 hours. I chatted to people there, asked for advice on different climbs and generally had a lovely time. And then I cycled 5 miles home instead of getting the train. I was buzzing when I got home. I used to play so much sport in Australia but it is hard for me to commit to things over here because of my job & also because I want to be free to travel. But I can climb whenever I want, there aren't set times, like playing a football match or doing a weekly class. I've missed being breathless and sweaty and red faced. It is such a satisfying feeling! I'm excited to continue it!</div>
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I am also scared of missing out. I hate missing out on events, or missing out on food, or an opportunity to go out. I also hate making plans that fall through and then being too afraid to do things by myself. This in particular has been something I struggled with a lot. I conversed at length with a friend of mine a few months ago about my intense frustration at unreliable people. I got so incredibly worked up. I think she was slightly shocked at how much it upset me. But it came back to me being scared to do anything by myself, and then blaming someone else for my inability to be independent. </div>
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The other night I was invited out, and then plans fell through. I suggested to my housemates to go out, messaged a couple of friends, no one was interested. And the more it seemed nothing was going to happen, the more annoyed I got. Then I spontaneously decided to accompany a friend on his cycle to work at midnight! Instead of cycling straight home, I loitered at the seafront, taking it all in. All the partygoers, skate rats, homeless people, musicians... and it brought a smile to my face. It was so nice just to be out of the house. Eventually I decided to head home. I love cycling. I rode along London Road, past the Cowley Club and heard some music that made me want to dance. I stopped and listened. You can't just walk into the Cowley Club. It is all boarded up of a night, and you have to ring a bell to gain entry. I cycled back and forth about 4 times before I finally plucked up the courage to go in... I was rewarded. I went in. I danced. And then a friend of mine turned up and we danced together for a couple of hours. It was such a wonderful night. </div>
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So, I am feeling more capable. More brave. I feel more hope and less judgement from the world. I have to remember that people really do want to connect. But we're all afraid. We're all nervous to make that first move. To take that leap and talk to a stranger. Or make eye contact. Or smile. But deep down, we yearn for that connection. I wish we would all be ever-so-slightly more brave.. The world would be a happier place because of it.</div>
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I am determined to be more brave. In this modern, technological world, we have to be socially brave. We don't tip our hats to strangers anymore, we don't even say good morning as we walk down the street. We snapchat and instagram and tinder and whatsapp and Facebook.. We're more 'social' than ever, but now we struggle with real human connection. It's time to change that and bring it back. I challenge you (and me) to do that. Let's engage and converse and interact with each other!<br />
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Go on. Off you trot.<br />
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Buckets of love xxx</div>
thefaceofgracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18143970995251531519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332620057624743619.post-47348100959909561562014-05-26T18:27:00.000-07:002014-06-02T12:42:32.848-07:00money and it's value<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am good with money. I always have been. But recently I have been struggling. Not a huge amount, but enough that I have had to borrow some. And it has made me think about it's value. I love working and getting that pay cheque and feeling proud that I've earned it. But then it doesn't seem to go very far. After rent and bills and travel expenses to and from work and food and my donations to a couple of charities and unavoidable, unexpected things that happen, there doesn't seem to be much left. And then what about treating myself, or treating other people? What about saving for upcoming travels and trips and holidays? After all I am on a working holiday. I don't spend money on alcohol, I usually settle for water. I don't eat out very often. I don't go shopping very often. Occasionally I pick up something nice from a charity shop. A significant portion of my money seems to go towards food, but that is important and something that I take great delight in. My diet is the best it has ever been. (And according to recent blood tests I am totally healthy so I must be doing something right there!)</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I guess I feel like I work a lot and I work hard at my jobs. And I love them. It costs me between £3.50 and £10.50 to get to and from work, which doesn't seem like much in the scheme of things, but it all adds up. And maybe I shouldn't have accepted a job where I have to pay to get there, but 15 miles is slightly too far to cycle. You seem to have to make a choice between earning enough money to live and a finding a job you actually enjoy. I feel blessed to have the jobs I do and to have the flexibility I have with them as well. But it is always a slightly stressful time when rent is due. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The hard part about my care jobs is that they are shift work so I find myself filling in time or working overtime for free (which I am certainly not complaining about, because often my 'work' just feels like hanging out with friends anyway or cooking or cleaning or folding washing which I enjoy!) but then I come home feeling like I have been working for 12 hours straight and I'm only get paid for 8 hours, and then I have to take into account travel expenses too. My babysitting job is good, I cycle there so I don't have to worry about paying for public transport. But that fluctuates. Some weeks I might have 3 shifts of 4 hours. Other weeks I might have nothing. So I don't really look at it as a reliable income, I just see it as some extra money on the side.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So the problem of paying for public transport. Firstly, it is not possible for my employers to cover my travel expenses (we have looked into this). Another problem with public transport is that it is UNreliable! The amount of times I have been late to work because my train has been delayed or cancelled or whatever! My answer to this is to problem is to (unfortunately) not use public transport. I have been looking into getting a scooter/motorcycle license. Again, an expensive thing to do (£90 and 3 days to do my CBT course). And first, I have to exchange my Australian license to a UK license (about £50!) And then there is the cost of buying a scooter or bike, getting insurance and storing it somewhere or paying for street parking! It's a tough one. But something I am seriously considering.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Travelling and holidays are something I should be doing while I am here. I am on a Working Holiday VISA and I intend to do lots of both those things, and enjoy them! I have a few exciting trips coming up, and if I follow my current trend of spending (based on past little getaways) then I shouldn't need to spend a huge amount of money. But still, it is money. I've got little jars where I put spare pennies. I try not to rely on my debit card and only use the cash I withdraw to pay for food and travel, but obviously that is not always possible. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The good thing about not having much money is that you really learn to prioritise. And you find ways of doing things that cost less. Couch surfing instead of paying for accommodation, lift sharing instead of paying for transport, bin raiding for extra food, learning to fix your bike yourself instead of paying for someone else to tinker with it, taking a packed lunch instead of buying food, having clothes swaps with your friends instead of going on shopping sprees for a new wardrobe, making your own cleaning products instead of buying them, buying food in bulk/from wholesalers/farmers markets, </span>using Freecycle or the Freebies section of Gumtree,<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> getting your hair cut for free as a 'hair model' for trainee hairdressers... (Fun fact, I have only bought shampoo twice since I left Australia!)</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">So I feel like I am good when it comes to money. But </span>the cost of living is just so ridiculous. I still want to be able to enjoy myself and unfortunately sometimes spending money is inevitable. But I am still so lucky to be pretty much financially free and have the opportunities to do the things that I am doing; to work for amazing people; to live with amazing people; and to be surrounded by wonderful things and places. Life still tastes pretty sweet, and I don't think money could pay for half the good things in my life right now. The things I value most don't even have a monetary value. And that is how things will stay.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, with love. Until next time, G xx</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPykSSydna5DDF45b1cRYQdlkaF4bYDIUfbqxkl0JobA3B-tSqkoB5KAvW-0ltJgsyED2_Y2K7aNET9VkqQmnQ7leM1FmOcb1ukbQqPqLLybEFG7qywKIHrfCGo5U3k2l0d5qPHcsds0xu/s1600/10151394_10201813739240562_8422883448999909186_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPykSSydna5DDF45b1cRYQdlkaF4bYDIUfbqxkl0JobA3B-tSqkoB5KAvW-0ltJgsyED2_Y2K7aNET9VkqQmnQ7leM1FmOcb1ukbQqPqLLybEFG7qywKIHrfCGo5U3k2l0d5qPHcsds0xu/s1600/10151394_10201813739240562_8422883448999909186_n.jpg" height="640" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">The best job ever!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg70PPjGXCexjN4_-vbcCyKiNgQi7eN_pF0ryl9fLNy5y_q9I183EETk6ZUv0CSln0r3VDNuzrHijFqOXvyfiXmxhO9CqZ6u3Bx70AB5oKP2r7rU-xfUoN7JX_aBB3WrCDUyo-t59OLo0WY/s1600/10155905_10201785803502186_68715053008265984_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg70PPjGXCexjN4_-vbcCyKiNgQi7eN_pF0ryl9fLNy5y_q9I183EETk6ZUv0CSln0r3VDNuzrHijFqOXvyfiXmxhO9CqZ6u3Bx70AB5oKP2r7rU-xfUoN7JX_aBB3WrCDUyo-t59OLo0WY/s1600/10155905_10201785803502186_68715053008265984_n.jpg" height="640" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Babysitting - reminding me there is no rush to have kids yet!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgffSHH9Ov1xxOS9BWyusKDF_X_QBz4PAL2itWpGjPJrwTRFQCDr8zXiUMrU-dzvGLev4397FXhRDSYX4y_l8VmyhukR3I-Kagm6yJ6OrZh8GHHn0cHf0i-7lj3sbhDLPyBwFAwwoaz-r_B/s1600/10313221_10201989309989721_5548743636516053773_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgffSHH9Ov1xxOS9BWyusKDF_X_QBz4PAL2itWpGjPJrwTRFQCDr8zXiUMrU-dzvGLev4397FXhRDSYX4y_l8VmyhukR3I-Kagm6yJ6OrZh8GHHn0cHf0i-7lj3sbhDLPyBwFAwwoaz-r_B/s1600/10313221_10201989309989721_5548743636516053773_n.jpg" height="640" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Warmer weather and spontaneous outings.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4jegwhd6ntMnaUrRU0DD_a4BvpF-VqVtevS5lqw2ipkJKrL2jv5brfq-GQo6q2c3A4M5e2Bh35EkYZc_1AfCNc4LG7l610MNasVH8NKyzXBLX92ttZzmFlbIN2wHTy32482PUQH-nq-1F/s1600/IMG_7710.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4jegwhd6ntMnaUrRU0DD_a4BvpF-VqVtevS5lqw2ipkJKrL2jv5brfq-GQo6q2c3A4M5e2Bh35EkYZc_1AfCNc4LG7l610MNasVH8NKyzXBLX92ttZzmFlbIN2wHTy32482PUQH-nq-1F/s1600/IMG_7710.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Friends and housemates - old and new.</span><br />
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thefaceofgracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18143970995251531519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332620057624743619.post-73451277867417481622014-05-07T16:17:00.001-07:002014-05-08T00:46:55.666-07:00Caring for the care worker ( and people in general )<div style="text-align: justify;">
Everyone needs a bit of love and affection every now and then. Everyone needs to feel appreciated. Everyone needs to be reminded they are important and needed. But at the very least everyone needs to be acknowledged. Something I have noticed from being a care worker is that the carers are often just sort of in the background, somewhat invisible. We (society) seem to have this way of over-compensating when it comes to disabled people. What should be common curtesy towards everyone seems, at times, to be non-existent for us, as care workers and completely over the top, to the point where is seems insincere to disabled people. Obviously, that is a massive generalisation. But there have been numerous times when I've felt like I'm invisible, or like I am a maid or someone to be seen and not heard. I can imagine what it would be like to be an assistant, or a friend or a colleague of a high profile person. Things would not get done without these people, but they are so often forgotten or ignored. Cleaners, shop assistants, waitresses, bar staff, PA's, rubbish collectors.. In Japan, if you are employed, you are automatically respected. You are giving back to society. It doesn't matter if you're a high flying CEO or a street sweeper. Your job is important. Your role is integral to the functioning of everyday life.</div>
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This is not something I have only become aware of through care work, but it was not something I expected to feel. When I was working in the hospitality industry there were times when I felt like I was not good enough because I was clearing plates away or washing dishes or mopping floors. But (unfortunately) that is not an uncommon feeling amongst those working in that industry. As I was saying, we over-compensate. We feel that we have to be overly nice to disabled people (which is great, we should be friendly and caring). But why should that attitude cease to exist with the rest of the population. We should treat everyone with respect, regardless of ability, gender, job, religion, skin colour, etc etc etc! A smile goes a long way. So does a compliment. Or inclusion in a conversation!</div>
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I only really got thinking about this today when I was getting cups of tea for the couple I work for in the cafe we go to each week. We go there so often that all of the staff know us, they know how they like their tea, they always say a big hello to us (and I presumed I was included in that). Today, the tea cups were a bit too full, so I went to tip some out. One of the women apologised to me saying that she knows how they usually have it but didn't realise it was for them because she only saw me. I have ordered their tea on countless occasions. I guess it is a petty thing to be annoyed about, so I'm not annoyed. I'm merely observing.</div>
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When bumping into their friends in the street, or going to the bank I feel ignored. I felt ignored when we went to the Haemophilia Centre and saw the doctors and nurses. I'm just another PA. I make a point of thanking people, and saying goodbye, but they're already looking at their computer screen or paperwork again. I don't think the teller in the bank has ever made eye contact with me despite my efforts to engage.</div>
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Perhaps I am only feeling this because I'm feeling a bit invisible in general right now. A bit unnoticed. It's funny. I am more active and busy right now than I have been for a while, but I have to be because I don't feel like I am getting much out of certain other areas of my life. I am working a lot (three jobs), I am studying Spanish, I am teaching myself the Ukulele and finally feeling like I am getting somewhere with it. I am organised with my food, and my room and my money. I am enjoying this immensely. But there is also a part of me that is deeply lonely. My Mum is the only one who I feel genuinely cares about how my day was, and we speak on a daily basis. I am blessed to be so close with her, and to be able to keep in contact with her so regularly.</div>
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I am finding myself spending an increasing amount of time in my room with the door shut, simply because I am afraid of going outside and being boring. I don't want to talk to people and tell them how my day was because, to tell you the truth, I don't think they care. I look forward to going to work, because with my couple, I feel truly appreciated and anything I am unhappy about disappears. I don't necessarily want to be doing extraordinary things each day. I am quite happy being ordinary. I get a lot of joy and satisfaction out of being ordinary and doing ordinary things.</div>
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And so I will continue. I will enjoy my extra-ordinary life and not worry about anything else. I am learning to nourish myself, educate myself, occupy myself, enjoy my own company and not depend on other people for my happiness and contentedness. (Although it can and does still effect how I feel, I don't rely on it.)</div>
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And on that note, I am going to sign off.</div>
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Love and warmth, xx</div>
thefaceofgracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18143970995251531519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332620057624743619.post-88198089194103760392014-04-04T12:02:00.002-07:002014-04-07T14:30:29.193-07:00where my life is at || care work<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-fwJ-ioQ8V8gq1uuPohpgyFpn4zaRedIfwSQaADpftTZKZkVQ4v0IHn9IpxKRntn3_-HiRkBp5YnQa3T_SJMjMQI6FdQtTvHNN9tYhfYIkA9NcOY0GiTW1y5ScjqN-88ofsWAf4ZzWVGM/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-04-04+at+6.10.19+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV0frnMjQIY0fuBaC_ZZc8Zs0HlPH8K1cDAt2ZPTIIjJ1_3MqwOeFQitk7L7Y_30YR9NCilDOA50_sEDeJt-uCDDjMUVAjrhgKrts08veIPTbAwPo7IIxlL5qe82Ga_cLoKKR_sgAQmYlP/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-04-04+at+6.08.44+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
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I go through waves of being insanely busy and then having a lot of spare time. When I'm busy I often get more done - hence why I am now writing another post. Lots has been happening. I feel that every time I write a new post I start by saying that I've been busy and things have been changing - but that's life. So I'll just catch you up on the past month quickly, and then I want to focus more on something close to my heart - my job.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1_C0f4XcNR9b2l4inKkGDCQ-hD6npIGoGViTQxsvVCCtfWmr7FHKoBZq2BqLjWfqg7k3k2wdyzk3z0VpNVqqsjEge__eeZ7CH4GGdoup_Gryhd3LtfJP1axsyec7tRqSWRcU7SljG4Np7/s1600/IMG_8706_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1_C0f4XcNR9b2l4inKkGDCQ-hD6npIGoGViTQxsvVCCtfWmr7FHKoBZq2BqLjWfqg7k3k2wdyzk3z0VpNVqqsjEge__eeZ7CH4GGdoup_Gryhd3LtfJP1axsyec7tRqSWRcU7SljG4Np7/s1600/IMG_8706_Fotor.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Walking in Lewes</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirWVzHTE7UnMt1274weQBDdV1XTLvbR-pI3sFDk2V6d08m0vIwegOF2xfYg_EIg0Lm-XCuoAsxOlZxofO2lZJAQcRj8zBzqYsr5_4IviqhghXHtobijcm7_N47DyguIQJ409OFYz6Wxdf2/s1600/IMG_8655_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirWVzHTE7UnMt1274weQBDdV1XTLvbR-pI3sFDk2V6d08m0vIwegOF2xfYg_EIg0Lm-XCuoAsxOlZxofO2lZJAQcRj8zBzqYsr5_4IviqhghXHtobijcm7_N47DyguIQJ409OFYz6Wxdf2/s1600/IMG_8655_Fotor.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Refreshing</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcf-9PkQ_NthLpSwtdKkpWWkAgmzyTzrVt2ew6AfzppDiZHnEZmT_l_U3bt5hC1uHdpvtnWlnHRBNcPiSbKcCHMTOLjsOKcHIK_WkidU_xCBSLl52Yle9gV22Ch3KJEIF-xg5YXCa-jPtX/s1600/IMG_8643_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcf-9PkQ_NthLpSwtdKkpWWkAgmzyTzrVt2ew6AfzppDiZHnEZmT_l_U3bt5hC1uHdpvtnWlnHRBNcPiSbKcCHMTOLjsOKcHIK_WkidU_xCBSLl52Yle9gV22Ch3KJEIF-xg5YXCa-jPtX/s1600/IMG_8643_Fotor.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Walking in Lewes</td></tr>
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Since last time I wrote I have been to Austria and caught up with an old primary school friend; made new friends and talked about the possibility of setting up a vegan food business; watched new love flourish; made more time for yoga and meditation in my life; been on a very long walk; gone skinny dipping TWICE; started learning how to fix my bikes at Brighton's <a href="http://circusstreetbrighton.com/circus-street-bike-hub" target="_blank">Circus Street Bike Hub</a>; volunteered at <a href="http://brighton.vegfest.co.uk/" target="_blank">VegFest</a> started <a href="https://woodcraft.org.uk/" target="_blank">Woodcraft Folk</a> again; started trying to set up a local six-a-side competition…just to list a few things.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbpd7pefFgjXJFTq7eLBUiS1VDJScv2XK_G1HapYFEkftcXNT4qUzlNIJxNv5hRpmvEtziZ0yKv9KA1X1sB8SUHHUn6CxHK5Y2Cggg-QiUrhYRyOd5H8vVzQLNuopaUyrWxs-0qdwlyIm3/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-04-04+at+6.08.44+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbpd7pefFgjXJFTq7eLBUiS1VDJScv2XK_G1HapYFEkftcXNT4qUzlNIJxNv5hRpmvEtziZ0yKv9KA1X1sB8SUHHUn6CxHK5Y2Cggg-QiUrhYRyOd5H8vVzQLNuopaUyrWxs-0qdwlyIm3/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-04-04+at+6.08.44+PM.png" height="319" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Skiing in Lech am Arlberg, Austria</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6cT5Ue1MttdvD6Z843-LQ_4FHIQNMn2YqKLw02hqccrylMHZia4zzp8LRBYpxbaHi16LNsZbJ0adZmz73aZze82AlsXb5MLctLdN-wjPadSMyVztkN8e78JD4wz1JsPhLMC-VDa_dFWqS/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-04-04+at+6.10.19+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6cT5Ue1MttdvD6Z843-LQ_4FHIQNMn2YqKLw02hqccrylMHZia4zzp8LRBYpxbaHi16LNsZbJ0adZmz73aZze82AlsXb5MLctLdN-wjPadSMyVztkN8e78JD4wz1JsPhLMC-VDa_dFWqS/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-04-04+at+6.10.19+PM.png" height="318" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blessed with a beautiful sunset on my first night in Lech</td></tr>
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<b>Care Work</b></div>
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Doing care work was not something I ever really considered, but I am so glad I decided to give it a go because it is such a wonderful, fulfilling job. I really couldn't complain about anything, except that the trains seem to be delayed, late or cancelled more often than not! Thankfully the couple I care for are very understanding and it is not such a problem.</div>
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My job involves cooking, cleaning, chair pushing, administrative duties, help with shopping, assistance on outings, washing clothes, organising medication. But you know what, that's just the job description. That isn't even half of it. There is laughter, there are cuddles, there is eating, there are outings, there's cheekiness, cups of tea, crude jokes and there's more care than you would think - from all of us. There is friendship. These guys are my friends. And the care and love I feel for them was unexpected. But beautiful. And I am beyond grateful.</div>
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There are little things that we do, little things that happen, that remind me how lucky I am to be in their lives. To play a part, to enjoy their happiness, to feel their pain and frustration and help them through it, to try to understand things from their point of view. Its such a blessing.</div>
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She and I have girl talks together. And she tells me things that you would tell a best friend. She lets me in on secrets, explains her feelings and things that she is missing out on, or things that she is lucky enough to be part of. (Although I would like to go into detail about these things, I don't feel it is appropriate to divulge anything personal. But you would probably understand the situation more if you were to know.) And her laughter is contagious. Her excitement. And her brain. She has the most incredible memory. She is better than any calendar or diary. I'm blown away. Her positivity and her care is inspirational. (And I don't use that word lightly.)</div>
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He and I go into town together. Him in his electric wheelchair, up the hill. Me cycling beside him. Him beeping his horn and flashing his lights. Me ringing my bell. Just like naughty school kids. We're little rebels. His sense of humour is just terrible. I was missing my Dad's jokes; not anymore! They are just the worst, cringe-worthy! And brilliant. The way he laughs when he tells a bad joke, so cheeky. His memory is shocking. Sometimes he can't even remember what he asked me to put on his sandwich! But that is why they work so well together. He calms her down when she gets stressed or anxious. He makes her laugh. And that is why they work so well together.</div>
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I am filled with joy when I go to work. I didn't think I would say that about work. There have been times when I've gone to work in a bad mood and come home feeling so happy and refreshed because they make it so enjoyable and remind me that there is no time for being moody when you're surrounded by such happiness! This job is so rewarding. So fulfilling. And there are days where I feel like I get more out of it than they do.</div>
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So thank you guys. For opening my eyes, and including me in your lives. My time with you is precious. I hope to make many more happy memories with you.</div>
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Much love x</div>
thefaceofgracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18143970995251531519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332620057624743619.post-79630452794837622522014-03-12T18:08:00.002-07:002014-03-13T01:59:57.418-07:00Seven Months Away From Home<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo0cup0Uid5asc4QDXbDJA2TNwZEg5iBAm7yOEiVwQuCENld-EUxfua1avsyAgl-hfZaYSAyrI4BDIjfLqSdiBQI70TBEcRyfOL53vOl5ea_b9szZ8MIlY4kYpVs445xSjrfQuQL5nCIZG/s1600/526900_4397373647880_1459959770_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo0cup0Uid5asc4QDXbDJA2TNwZEg5iBAm7yOEiVwQuCENld-EUxfua1avsyAgl-hfZaYSAyrI4BDIjfLqSdiBQI70TBEcRyfOL53vOl5ea_b9szZ8MIlY4kYpVs445xSjrfQuQL5nCIZG/s1600/526900_4397373647880_1459959770_n.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a></div>
Well, I've been overseas for just over seven months now. Still enjoying it immensely, but starting to miss home. And perhaps appreciate it a bit more. Appreciate unexpected things. I'm really missing familiarity and safety. But its funny what I associate with familiarity and safety. More than anything I just want to go home and have my Mum cook for me, nothing beats a feast cooked by her. And I want to sit with her on the couch, sewing or stitching or knitting, and watching TV.. Grand Designs, New Tricks, Doc Martin.. (Funnily enough, all English programs!) We don't have a TV in our house here, which is nice. But sometimes it is also nice to just veg out.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTez34-OCrFrTK4dqjDkuAkuR6OkCZU-EqeJmrDPuhwLGmmCiP70gNFH1h6FcbDQuYUlMs41ecSoisnZt6yTM1Zu-rBQx-Gfa0jK7VKCp6yw5MhLTO4cVCfrCttAJLqC7xZM3Ci-SFOHWy/s1600/484349_4027845689912_1368776481_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTez34-OCrFrTK4dqjDkuAkuR6OkCZU-EqeJmrDPuhwLGmmCiP70gNFH1h6FcbDQuYUlMs41ecSoisnZt6yTM1Zu-rBQx-Gfa0jK7VKCp6yw5MhLTO4cVCfrCttAJLqC7xZM3Ci-SFOHWy/s1600/484349_4027845689912_1368776481_n.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a>I want to go for a walk with my Dad along the creek and to the dam. And I want him to make ridiculous Dad jokes. I want to see that look on his face where we know he's just about to make a joke, his mind is ticking over, checking it. I want to cuddle my nieces and nephews who are growing up faster than I can comprehend. I want to go for a drive along the country roads I know so well. I want to appreciate the mountains that surround my house. I want to hear the thud and beat of hooves as the horses gallop over the hill. I want to sit in the warmth on the grass in my backyard, looking out across the valley, listening to the breeze rustling through the banana leaves. I want to climb the fig tree - something that always takes me back to feeling like a child again.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjEwFs4_d1s-tNyTZ-iOTuMDSR38bjt86QXZLebW3f2XaAigMumgmCa1ep4g0PZ0yBgoqIAqf236r7KzKByN8-QkGLn-x9LCIL31nTkY08KQ-ZjoDhvo8Dm-7_UiIwUjf_7ENGTjmAOqF6/s1600/539235_3523945092712_1391169145_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjEwFs4_d1s-tNyTZ-iOTuMDSR38bjt86QXZLebW3f2XaAigMumgmCa1ep4g0PZ0yBgoqIAqf236r7KzKByN8-QkGLn-x9LCIL31nTkY08KQ-ZjoDhvo8Dm-7_UiIwUjf_7ENGTjmAOqF6/s1600/539235_3523945092712_1391169145_n.jpg" height="133" width="200" /></a>I want to walk to our workshop and just look. Look at all the things. The shelves of glass bottles and broken toys and dried insects. Bags of clay waiting to be used. Pegs. Colourful pegs. I want to appreciate the handmade birds hanging from the ceiling, gathering dust. They've been there as long as I can remember - twenty years. I used to sit under them in my cot while my Mum painted and engraved. The print hanging on the door. I want to hear the ceiling creaking and cracking as it expands in the heat <br />
in the middle of the day.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRanx0_m6mpxp2v_84xL9d9kBmYgcGIYkRjMstGAKpAKnRFQB4u8bH-PqqWzcuwNKirh0qPciHcNfq4g1PZNJVfcA3qVWtFzz6GVqIoK_1pdwz-2t9PuCKDb7WxEIJJb4NWifDjXbcRR83/s1600/484005_3435668925863_1808629290_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRanx0_m6mpxp2v_84xL9d9kBmYgcGIYkRjMstGAKpAKnRFQB4u8bH-PqqWzcuwNKirh0qPciHcNfq4g1PZNJVfcA3qVWtFzz6GVqIoK_1pdwz-2t9PuCKDb7WxEIJJb4NWifDjXbcRR83/s1600/484005_3435668925863_1808629290_n.jpg" height="200" width="133" /></a>I want to hear my neighbour and her dogs walk past to check the cows. I want to smell the jasmine that grows on our fence. I want to go outside and hear nothing. Nothing but life. Birds. Cows. Or nothing. Some days there is complete silence. I want to drive to general store on a Saturday morning and get the newspapers and fresh bread rolls for breakfast..<br />
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I want. I want. I want.<br />
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I want to appreciate. And I am. And somehow, part of me actually feels it too.<br />
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So it's okay. Because today, being here, is so special and comforting and safe and familiar in its own way. And I love it. And I love the people. And I love the food! And I love the unknown. What will happen next?<br />
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I love Brighton!thefaceofgracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18143970995251531519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332620057624743619.post-37932088179363845592014-01-10T09:01:00.000-08:002014-01-10T09:04:05.998-08:00welcome to 2014 - changes, more changes<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">
So I haven't written for a while - life has been pretty hectic. I've been to Wales, Devon and London over Christmas and the New Year, and had a ball. I feel too overwhelmed/motivated (funny mix..) to go into detail about the past couple of months, but there are a few things I'd like to touch on in this post, mostly things I've already written about in my journal and will add to this blog. (I have a little book I take everywhere with me to jot down notes, feelings, words, sketches..etc etc) </div>
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<b>Firstly, it is 2014 - happy new year!</b></div>
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I dislike New Years Resolutions but I have made a sort of 'to do' or 'to NOT do' list.. basically some changes that I want to happen in my life:</div>
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- get a part time job (just enough money to pay for food and rent and maybe a little on the side for things I care about)</div>
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- use my phone/internet less (there's real people to interact with!)</div>
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- read more</div>
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- do more yoga/stretching</div>
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- join a football club</div>
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- watch a live football match</div>
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- hitch hike more (Ireland??)</div>
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- [go skiing (Switzerland??)]</div>
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- go couch surfing</div>
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- [get a camera]</div>
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- busk</div>
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- keep learning the ukulele</div>
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- perfect acro so that we can perform!</div>
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- be more mindful and more generous</div>
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- continue writing & experimenting with spoken word, poetry, stories, etc</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil5GKHY6pk-MQLuO_um8StLFUKCCCcm6l68wAg6DzWPpakXhUrVWYgy5Qk0h9sSFKAZTnw6cKZCpPVVurtOeK2kvgjeldXsR_oEGOrU74uABoKBvH8sbAEpTweV21wllTJILgXIUgsc3K2/s1600/1504032_10201153322370553_411769872_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil5GKHY6pk-MQLuO_um8StLFUKCCCcm6l68wAg6DzWPpakXhUrVWYgy5Qk0h9sSFKAZTnw6cKZCpPVVurtOeK2kvgjeldXsR_oEGOrU74uABoKBvH8sbAEpTweV21wllTJILgXIUgsc3K2/s1600/1504032_10201153322370553_411769872_n.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a><b>Wales</b><br />
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I went to Wales with my friend Matt who was doing a canoeing/kayaking course. We stayed with a beautiful woman called Helen, and met some truly wonderful people up there.</div>
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I really loved going to Wales, knowing that I would be exploring by myself, but also having no plans. I think it was really good for me to wander. I walked, I chatted to strangers, I took photos of sheep. I sang a lot. I visited castle ruins, I went to vintage shops, community galleries, mountain ranges. It was so refreshing to be outside in the cold and wind and rain. We stayed for longer than intended, extending our time day by day. I feel like I only just scratched the surface - there's so much more to explore up there around Llangollen/Llanberis/Snowdonia and I fully intend to visit again with a pair of hiking boots and a waterproof jacket, and probably a big group of friends.</div>
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<b>Christmas in Devon</b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2qHgQ2EaNeI2PZ2cAUxwUaWOmdenStL5etYZMVgnRaYXEp2W0eumORGOo1l6lIT9rlI4lHRRx3Hmdz_BCVSU3QJHhFdcU095fop0ngLobCdIeJBS83sG4XZDGj2wYFpgN44C-YsaFOGi1/s1600/1393672_10201211789472194_464131540_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2qHgQ2EaNeI2PZ2cAUxwUaWOmdenStL5etYZMVgnRaYXEp2W0eumORGOo1l6lIT9rlI4lHRRx3Hmdz_BCVSU3QJHhFdcU095fop0ngLobCdIeJBS83sG4XZDGj2wYFpgN44C-YsaFOGi1/s1600/1393672_10201211789472194_464131540_n.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a>We hitchhiked to Devon, the first proper hitchhiking I've done. We had such a successful day, had four lifts with really interesting people, and made it in just over 6 hours (which is really good time!)</div>
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Devon was rainy, cold and muddy. I spent Christmas morning shovelling horse shit and muddy hay into a wheel barrow. I ripped my best skirt and tore the buttons off my vest. A horse bit my nipple and we didn't shower for days. And I absolutely loved it. It was so nice to see the stars at night, and be surrounded by open space and green fields.</div>
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Over Christmas I started thinking about presents, and wants and needs. There wasn't really anything I wanted. Or needed this year. I'm pretty content with life. I was not expecting gifts. And I had no gifts to give either. And that was fine. Enjoyable. We exchanged food, and laughter and presence. And that was enough. (Although, I do tell a lie - I received a pair of thermal tights and a pair of gloves, both very useable presents which I appreciated a lot!) But it just made me realise how nice it is not to waste anything. I am a bit of a hoarder, and a bit stingy I guess. I keep all the paper and string and ribbon and reuse it. I collect cardboard and paper and bubble wrap. I keep small pieces of twine that don't seem to be of any use. And when I posted some things home to Australia I didn't have to buy anything except stamps. I like that.</div>
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Something else I became super aware of was seeing people posting photos of all the gifts they received on Facebook/instagram/social media. Even if it was only posted because they felt spoilt or lucky or wanted to give thanks, I find it unnecessary. Yes, we all like to be spoilt; it is lovely to receive gifts, but its also really nice to just appreciate it without involving everyone on social media. I'm definitely not exempt from this. I've certainly done this before - I know that I overshare too. It's easy to forget that people see these things we post, it does not just disappear into that abyss that is the internet. This year I want to be more aware of that, and just be a bit less public (which seems contradictory since I'm writing a blog to be posted on the internet, which is accessible to all!) But that is something for me to work on!</div>
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<b>London</b><br />
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I spent a few days in London over the New Year with my oldest friend Beth and her family. As much fun as I had there, I know that London is not the place for me! Its too rushed, too stressful, too normal! I felt that I had to sort of suppress myself, still be me, but be this different version. It just made me realise that I am truly happy and comfortable in Brighton. I'm not living a lifestyle that is considered normal - finish school, go to uni, get a job…etc etc. BORING! For me. Its just not what I want to be doing. I've found better things, things that test me and challenge me and make me happy in different ways. I'm learning more here than I think I would be if I was studying at a university. I think you should study something that you are interested in. And I'm interested in LIFE, in living! I am studying that. And I might not be getting A-grades, but I'm definitely learning a lot. This works for me. Just like university works for other people. It's all good. I think we need to trust more. Trust each other, trust our decisions. Accept that we are all different. And different things work for different people. Believe that the journey is just as important, if not more important than the destination. And this journey is absolutely amazing. Go with the flow, bro.</div>
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It's good to be home. Brighton is home.</div>
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<b style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Since I've been back</b><span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 12px;"><b>…</b></span></span><br />
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I've been playing my ukulele; I've been singing, dancing, frolicking in the park; climbing trees; rolling around in the mud; making hummus. My friends from Australia came and stayed for a while. And it was just so nice. I knew it would be good, but it was just even better than I imagined. It was lovely to reminisce. To remember, to laugh. And to do new things. I really enjoyed showing them around Brighton. Having them in my home. It really was a blessing. And I was proud to introduce them to my new friends, and introduce my new friends to them. Because they're all such great people. </div>
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<u>I've been getting involved in some cool projects.</u> </div>
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My friend Tiana had an idea to get photos of naked women doing every day things (cleaning our teeth, climbing a tree, cooking…). Images that show our imperfections, that don't sexualise us. That just show us raw, organic and beautiful as we are. I'm keen to do this. It will be great to love my body, because it isn't perfect. Who even has a perfect body? And who are we to say that one body is better or more beautiful than another? Being different is beautiful. </div>
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Luke and Charlie have been working hard on an amazing project that is really starting to take off, after years of planning and testing and tweaking and changing. (And this process is still going, its ever-changing!) I've been trying to understand <a href="https://www.facebook.com/ChangeTheFuture.co.uk?fref=ts" target="_blank">Change The Future</a> better. It is consuming them, but in a healthy and inspiring way. Our house is bubbling with ideas, overflowing with people and full of laughter and fun and home cooked food. We're all involved in some way or another, whether we mean to be or not. But its becoming pretty apparent that everyone has something offer. Whether it be coordinating events, helping with fundraising… cooking the dinner! Watch this space, its going to be huge. This IS going to change the future. And it is going to be mind blowing.</div>
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I am still pursuing my interests with circus and circus related things. I've been meeting new people who are interested in learning and teaching, and that motivates me to continue following this passion. But I am also doing new things! Experimenting, exploring and believing that I can! I wrote a spoken word piece, my first spoken word piece. Inspired, to an extent, by my housemate Lula, who is amazing with words and performance. Have a look at Lula's spoken word <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fYuKTEA4T2o" target="_blank">here</a>!</div>
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So I'm finishing the blog with my spoken word piece. I have been sitting in the Emporium Cafe round the corner from my house for about four hours now, and am starting to feel a bit fidgety and peckish. Its time to go home and eat. And move around. Maybe do some stretches. And not be starring at a screen! I might even pick up my ukulele. Or continue reading my book. Or sew the patches onto my clothes that I ripped. Until next time. x</div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>I moved to the sea</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>Where I’m happy and free</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>Where I can be ME</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>And I can just BE</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>Who I want to be, Yes, I can be free.</i></span></div>
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<i><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></i></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>Not confined, not constrained</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>Cause that causes me pain</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>And I must explain,</i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>It might seem mundane, </i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>But I must regain</i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>Some spark, some spice...something that’s nice</i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; min-height: 14px; text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></i></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>I must find the hunger, while I’m still younger</i></span></div>
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<i><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></i></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>Let’s be tested, be challenged, be questioned, find balance,</i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>Be pushed, be pulled, be tricked, be fooled</i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; min-height: 14px; text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></i></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>But all the while learning,</i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>And finding that yearning,</i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>I’m feeling that burning,</i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>And now I am turning...</i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; min-height: 14px; text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></i></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>To you... </i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; min-height: 14px; text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></i></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>For support,</i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>To teach, to be taught</i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; min-height: 14px; text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></i></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>Now I know I might snort,</i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>And my face might contort</i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>And then you will thwart,</i></span></div>
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<i><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></i></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>What I thought that I knew,</i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>Cause you can see through,</i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>And what will ensue,</i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>Is a brand new world view</i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; min-height: 14px; text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></i></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>I can’t thank you enough</i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>Cause I know that its tough</i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>Explaining that stuff</i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>Without being gruff</i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>But now I am...Chuffed</i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; min-height: 14px; text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></i></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>I’ve opened my eyes,</i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>I’ve removed my disguise,</i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>I’m feeling alive,</i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>And now I can dive...</i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>Into LIFE</i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; min-height: 14px; text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></i></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>Let’s be generous, humorous, glamorous, amorous.</i></span></div>
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<i><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></i></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>So let us join forces, </i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>Let us be the sources, </i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>The one who enforces,</i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>The use of resources</i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; min-height: 14px; text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></i></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><i>But we must be cautious</i></b></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; min-height: 14px; text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></i></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>We’re insightful,</i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>Not spiteful,</i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>Cause life is delightful</i></span></div>
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<i><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></i></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>Don’t be evil, harmful, hateful, hurtful</i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>Be joyful, be mindful</i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; min-height: 14px; text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></i></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>We must arrange, to be the change</i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>No firing range, no stock exchange</i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>A mountain range, a corn exchange</i></span></div>
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<i><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></i></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>So join together,</i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>No matter the weather,</i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>Together we tether,</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>A life that is BETTER</i></span></div>
thefaceofgracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18143970995251531519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332620057624743619.post-84701588284138203272013-11-27T17:11:00.001-08:002013-11-28T08:58:03.946-08:00changes. again. a fresh start. again.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJIv_9bbZUy0eAwvr5mvU4ICM2RGBwGID5E9sQxbB5OfuYQ22se7fFynpAAgLKhlf6qbNEveyGzy8GoU-9BAKDu_K3cTrs9dLGt3h-3yLcrJ84ZsFzjrnOmH6iulET9U3wgcn5JPklIVq-/s1600/IMG_4761.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJIv_9bbZUy0eAwvr5mvU4ICM2RGBwGID5E9sQxbB5OfuYQ22se7fFynpAAgLKhlf6qbNEveyGzy8GoU-9BAKDu_K3cTrs9dLGt3h-3yLcrJ84ZsFzjrnOmH6iulET9U3wgcn5JPklIVq-/s640/IMG_4761.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is what I will do now. I'm making changes in my own way.</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">On Tuesday I quit my job street fundraising for Greenpeace. It is a good decision, the right decision. My reasons for leaving, though somewhat insignificant as they may seem by them self, all added up, and can result in a seriously shit time. I decided that Greenpeace is something that I really care about and I want to see truly passionate people out on the streets talking to people and raising money. I don’t think I am the right person to do that job, simply because I feel that I’m not able to put in all my effort. The skeptics, the loonies, the snide remarks and the downright rude comments, they all add up. It doesn’t affect some people, but it got to me. This doesn’t necessarily make me weak or sensitive. But it does mean that I’m not able to maintain my positive, motivated and enthusiastic attitude for the whole day. And as time wears on, albeit short, you wake up every day feeling just a little bit less like going to work, you don’t want to listen to that. Damn it, you don’t have to listen to that. And so I thought I should cut and run. I will put my time and effort into doing something where I feel I can truly make a difference. It will definitely involve Greenpeace. I plan on volunteering for our local team. Greenpeace is such a close-nit organisation, full of brave, inspiring, passionate, generous and awesome people, and I want to be part of that. But I don’t want to be paid for it. I want to do it for myself and for the earth. And for my parents and for my children. I want my parents to see change, change that the younger generation has fought for. I want them to see some of what we accomplish, what we achieve, what we protect. They won’t see everything we do. But environmental protection, environmental respect, that is possible. I want my parents to see the Arctic made into a global sanctuary. I want my parents to know that their grandchildren and great grandchildren are going to enjoy a planet free from fracking, oil drilling, unsustainable fishing, animal cruelty, cruelty to each other! The frustrating thing is IT IS possible. It is more than achievable. Let’s do it. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">It’s starts at a local level. You don’t need to be signing up to charities or organisations to make a difference. I’m not saying don’t sign up, because your donations are integral to the functioning of such organisations. But what I am saying is you can make huge changes by getting involved at a local level. Pick up rubbish (yes you might feel silly doing it, people might gawk at you, but just do it!). Sit down next to that homeless guy and have a chat. Don’t ignore him as you walk past, don’t look at him like he’s scum. Because he’s not. And he has a bloody interesting story to tell to someone who genuinely wants to listen. Take that freezing, starving girl out to dinner with you and get to know her. She is actually really funny. Give your spare change to buskers. Buy that Big Issue and read it. Visit your local soup kitchen or animal shelter or the old friend you haven’t seen in months because your life has been too hectic. (Not to be patronising about the busyness of our lives.) But come on, we can do this, we can make time for these moments. They are precious. Precious exchanges, precious hugs, precious conversations, precious memories. I definitely know that some of the people I have met have changed the course of my life. Not always in a dramatic way, but they’ve challenged me, questioned me, got me thinking and questioning myself and my beliefs. They’ve educated me, inspired me, laughed with me. And it has only happened because I’ve been open, and honest. I’ve listened because I’m genuinely interested. I have sat on the freezing concrete and chatted with homeless people. And its hard for them. Even for the short amount of time I was sitting there, I noticed the looks people give you. They are looks of disgust, fear, confusion. Try a smile. It could change someone’s day. And that is my point. Changing the world at a local level can require very little effort. And really we have no excuses for excluding ourselves from this. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I’ve been questioned about my beliefs and yes, they may seem somewhat idealistic. But I think it’s important to dream big, to truly believe that this is possible. We can change the world. Yes, there is definitely a massive chance of being hugely disappointed and becoming jaded and losing faith in humanity. But don’t take away my enthusiasm and motivation to create change. I feel that I am very much in touch with reality. And I’m definitely aware of how shit things can be, how shit the world can be. And how I’m just a teensy tiny part of the bigger picture. But I think saying that as individuals, we don’t have the power to make change, is an excuse. It’s lazy. Everyone can make change in their own way. I will end this post with a quote that really resonates with me, and I think more people should consider this.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">“A person who says it cannot be done should not interrupt the person doing it” - Chinese Proverb</span></span></h4>
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thefaceofgracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18143970995251531519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332620057624743619.post-64189254468380341762013-11-17T09:21:00.002-08:002013-12-09T04:28:28.735-08:00i had a birthday. my 20th in the UK.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ-mb8SB-MJBSDKzElU-YpWetZyUTzY1A-LSd-aUG7wUBfKW9uzNCQo4RQz8BTOGvLve_dK6zMl7pjbfGIAPHxP9wGrB8DtPpyE7zXdCeinJ0rvScNqeJcYz7-uS1iOO9nnz0TrjuCXpXQ/s1600/IMG_4682.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ-mb8SB-MJBSDKzElU-YpWetZyUTzY1A-LSd-aUG7wUBfKW9uzNCQo4RQz8BTOGvLve_dK6zMl7pjbfGIAPHxP9wGrB8DtPpyE7zXdCeinJ0rvScNqeJcYz7-uS1iOO9nnz0TrjuCXpXQ/s640/IMG_4682.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKOGMBSrlPL6m0omDuQktMn4tFNcUXZgtmbiFWxhnVeNZYiLs8sOwM2N58o2g60jndXhfve5fW-5Ndv2cpjEm5QIdnm70RzBrSJcnBdrSWEkc6qSzZlb_QRtYla96Ubufb6CisDcPcl4Cr/s1600/1441417_551512044927159_1641855600_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKOGMBSrlPL6m0omDuQktMn4tFNcUXZgtmbiFWxhnVeNZYiLs8sOwM2N58o2g60jndXhfve5fW-5Ndv2cpjEm5QIdnm70RzBrSJcnBdrSWEkc6qSzZlb_QRtYla96Ubufb6CisDcPcl4Cr/s320/1441417_551512044927159_1641855600_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Some words that resonate with me at the moment.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Thursday 14th November was my 20th Birthday. I could not have asked for a better day of celebrations, with better people. It blows me away how much people accept you into their lives and make you feel so at home and comfortable in their groups. I've only been here about a month, but it is just insane, I feel like I've been here forever. I feel like all the people I'm meeting are my oldest and closest friends. A closeness where we are so comfortable around each other, no awkward silences, no awkward moments, just a feeling of home. Even people I've only met a couple of times have become such close friends, and we share such solid bonds. It really is the most fantastic and surreal thing. The effort my friends put in to make my day special was just mind blowing. </span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;">Luke & Lula got up and cooked me a fantastic breakfast and gave me the performance of a lifetime, with costumes and singing and dancing. (It involved material and hats and cotton wool in their noses.. as well as a terrible song about how children are conceived..)</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBmLLDIWx5yRJy_nbzmGaRS7HrUB8fpnz406mj_dG3CI1_d8NW9OkHRQPiATF7fiVZtm3S_Ry2EBzvAsumqizdig424WuJvSrpESgCQ2udmP1bnZkb9hig0xC0v6yXelU2djokmSrRJIgX/s1600/IMG_4665.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBmLLDIWx5yRJy_nbzmGaRS7HrUB8fpnz406mj_dG3CI1_d8NW9OkHRQPiATF7fiVZtm3S_Ry2EBzvAsumqizdig424WuJvSrpESgCQ2udmP1bnZkb9hig0xC0v6yXelU2djokmSrRJIgX/s400/IMG_4665.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I see Noah Taylor (one of my favourite Aussie actors) at Brighton Train Station every morning when I'm on my way to work. He walks his wife to the train every day. The first time I saw him I decided I wouldn't interrupt them, but I was excited to have seen him. Then the next day I saw him again and spoke to him, complimented him on his work, and asked for a photo, which he refused. So it was quite embarrassing! And my Greenpeace team (who watched me get rejected) have been making fun of me ever since! But for my birthday my leader from Greenpeace got Noah Taylor to sign a card for me. Such a special thing! We wondered if he would've refused knowing it was for me!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My team at Greenpeace made sure I had a good day full of laughs and fun, even though we were working. But hey, that's what they do every day! S</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">aving the world, one sign up at a time!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">My darling friend Annie wrote me the beautiful song for my birthday. Brought tears to my eyes it did. I feel that this is a real representation of what people are like here. I only met Annie once. She & Tildy stayed with us for the weekend. But we got along really well and now she's written me a song. And I think that is just so incredibly special. (Just to explain the clitoris part - I'm not sure how we got onto this, but it ended with us googling facts about the clitoris..)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">My new friend Joel, the carpenter, made me a beautiful wooden box with my name carved into it, perfect to keep my small collection of jewellery in. I met Joel Rock Climbing a few weeks back and every time I went back he was always there. So we took it as a sign that we should probably be friends. And now we are.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 12px;">My Dad continued the birthday tradition of writing limericks and wrote one for me. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 12px;">"There was a young lady called Grace</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 12px;">Who left so we'd have some more space</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 12px;">But it's still pretty tough</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 12px;">Cause she left all her stuff</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 12px;">And chucking it, we just can't face"</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 12px;">My Mum painted a picture of a magnolia flower, from the tree that was planted for me 20 years ago. She told me that there was only the one flower in bloom to paint. Such a special gift to receive in the mail. It is now hanging on my wall next to my bed, reminding me of home.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">My housemate Momo got me flowers, bright orange and pink roses, which I love. There's something about flowers that just brighten the mood, and make the house an even warmer and homely place. She also made me a bag of goodies including incense, a scarf, chocolate and an elephant keyring. [Momo, I love that we're forming a friendship, as well as just being housemates. I'm so grateful to be able to have girly chats with you.]</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 12px;">Kate, such a gorgeous, bubbly human. Knowing how much I love Felix from the Cat Empire, (we both went to see the Cat Empire at the O2 Academy in Brixton a few weeks back) she got a mug made for me with Felix's thoughts on it - "Wow, Grace Stewart is amazing..." She handed it to me saying "here, have the worst wrapped present in history". It might have been badly wrapped, but man, what a fantastic gift. And perfect for me drink the tea that Alice and Ezra got me. So today I sat down with a hot cup of tea, and ate some toast with homemade marmalade (also from Alice and Ezra). What a delicious combination.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 12px;">My fabulous friend Justine got me an owl brooch, which I thought was just a HOOT! And it goes perfectly on my beautiful scarf from my Aunt Jenny and cousin Chloe back in Sydney! </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">My darling Jem (who is a chef!) made me a vegan apple and cinnamon cake. Not just any apple and cinnamon cake. The most fantastic, delicious birthday cake I could hope for. Not too sweet, just right. When someone makes food to share, it tastes better - you really can taste the love.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Now you might think I've just listed a bunch of presents people have got for me, and that is very materialistic of me. But that is not the way it is intended. I wanted to say a big, huge, monstrous thank you for the effort put into these gifts. Because thought went into them. They're not just things. They mean something to me. And the point I'm trying to make is that the group I've become part of is so genuine, so caring and so real. Everyone exists as they are. No one is trying to be someone they're not. No one is hiding anything. Everyone is totally raw and comfortable in themselves, and as a result, everyone really knows each other. So when it comes to giving a gift, it is special because we know each other, and we know what we like and what we will appreciate. Everything that I was given was so heartfelt. And I think what surprises me most about that is that I have only been here a month. These relationships have been formed in such a short time, because we trust each other. I have learnt to trust a lot more. To be myself. </span>To be comfortable in my own skin.<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> To not worry about what others think. Because this group I'm part of, they don't care what others think. They think for themselves. And they can see the truth. And that is something that amazes me every day.</span></div>
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thefaceofgracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18143970995251531519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332620057624743619.post-55082361930836596962013-11-10T15:35:00.001-08:002013-12-09T04:31:17.210-08:00quietly. changes. realisation. appreciation.<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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I have been super busy lately, but found some time whilst on the train on Thursday to write a bit.</div>
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<i>I'm on the train to Southhampton for work. Currently have the time to collect my thoughts and reflect upon the last week or so, which has been hectic. Many things have happened, and many emotions have been felt. I've had my first week working for Greenpeace - a bit of a roller coaster ride emotionally. It is hard work, but all very rewarding. I've met some truly inspiring people who restore my faith in this world and its future. But there have also been things that sadden me and dishearten me. I guess those things just teach you to preserve and keep on keeping on. This past week has been so busy I feel like I have not even had time to think. Its been good, but I'm not sure how long I can sustain this busy life style. Obviously we're still settling in to the demands of the job and balancing it with social and everyday life. Lack of sleep has been a struggle this week. There's too many interesting things going on and I don't want to miss out. We'll see if I stay working for Greenpeace... The hours might be too demanding. After all, I am here to live and work, and I intend to do plenty of living. I'll put all my effort into this job while I'm here, but I'm not opposed to looking for other work!</i></div>
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<i>Last night I did an interview with my friend Alice for a study on health and well being, which basically involved me telling a (reasonably, but not really) brief account of my life so far. It took roughly 2 hours, with some questions at the end. I was honest, and it was quite emotional. It is really hard to talk about yourself, and we got into some pretty in deep stuff. Actually saying some of your thoughts out loud can be strange . I think it was a really good thing to do though. Putting my thoughts into words was hard at times, but a good exercise for my mind - a challenge. I opened up about many things I feel have shaped me as a person, but of course this process of learning and growing is ongoing. We never stop - people are ever-changing. And at times I still have no clue who I am and what I'm doing on this earth.</i></div>
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Today, Sunday 10th November. I woke and showered which helped to cleanse my mind a bit. I spent the morning catching up on things that needed doing - emails, sorting things out, cleaning, washing my clothes, etc. Quite therapeutic completing normal household tasks like that. I skyped with my parents - always an enjoyable time. I also skyped with my best friend Archie, who I haven't seen in months! My housemates and I walked to the beach and sat in the sun for a while. We observed the tourists taking photos on their iPads and tablets and smartphones. Technology is a strange thing.</div>
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Momo and I went to Foodilic in town where we had and all-you-can-eat 'snack'. I went to the oxfam shop and picked up a winter jacket, which is quite warm and cosy. Met up with some friends. Drank some hot chocolate. Went bin raiding. Came home. Watched <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qMYtepoulrg" target="_blank">Samsara</a>, a beautiful and powerful and very disturbing documentary - a collection of images and scenes, with no dialogue, just music. It should be watched rather than explained. I want everyone to watch it.</div>
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I am very tired and need to sleep now. My body is tired from rock climbing on Saturday, and my mind if tired from thinking about life. There are many other things I wish to speak about, to post on this blog, but my eyes are flickering. Sleep is calling. And Jem has just turned up, sweaty and breathless from cycling. x</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHuqARbm3W9NWmaBhnh50kUj42DeO0HiXru3oNfUtPhn5EzFs6pEl_8FjDPkTv6C-iq3yqg3QtgmD2AzZTj5xJ_i-q225BJ3N97MQNSD_2SSAuooKq_OmE0HKckgu_v6Ngf4uZQA4Png33/s1600/941844_10200942381577165_1297073795_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHuqARbm3W9NWmaBhnh50kUj42DeO0HiXru3oNfUtPhn5EzFs6pEl_8FjDPkTv6C-iq3yqg3QtgmD2AzZTj5xJ_i-q225BJ3N97MQNSD_2SSAuooKq_OmE0HKckgu_v6Ngf4uZQA4Png33/s640/941844_10200942381577165_1297073795_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Coming to the realisation that this is my home now. Feeling pleasant.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhULq9HmGD1_WoMcfjesBYXTyDV95z8m13N4rk-3fbZmoNY0hzwO1VGgwy9lNqkuckuYaEmY7eFkovb_Htbh-EyQSQldcMETEdrwf26-4QccE6GH0XmqGNIXm033r92TDZRNLl1HqiIgADg/s1600/1395222_10200829115865593_1643230706_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhULq9HmGD1_WoMcfjesBYXTyDV95z8m13N4rk-3fbZmoNY0hzwO1VGgwy9lNqkuckuYaEmY7eFkovb_Htbh-EyQSQldcMETEdrwf26-4QccE6GH0XmqGNIXm033r92TDZRNLl1HqiIgADg/s640/1395222_10200829115865593_1643230706_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I went to the movies with Faezeh and we saw Blue Jasmine. There was so much laughter. Such cherished moments.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDEeg43XhAGU6jf2ywnk_o3roj6R2BDKhsOvH4zPx4g2_l_Te1NkCRbxsUvggEoTzMqxdv5OOgppLlHvLlJngtwH9nvomFypFKQX-hg3XIWZpHdC2Iz44urWa5AodZr_fAyPTgp3vZXqI2/s1600/1461390_10200890190432419_1649878322_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDEeg43XhAGU6jf2ywnk_o3roj6R2BDKhsOvH4zPx4g2_l_Te1NkCRbxsUvggEoTzMqxdv5OOgppLlHvLlJngtwH9nvomFypFKQX-hg3XIWZpHdC2Iz44urWa5AodZr_fAyPTgp3vZXqI2/s640/1461390_10200890190432419_1649878322_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">Meet Len. I met him on the street while I was fundraising. We had a lovely conversation & he was very well read & educated on all current affairs including the situation with the Arctic 30. Then, on my lunch break we ended up sitting at the same table because there were no seats. He told me all about his views about the world, what needs to be done & how he'd go about it. This remarkable man is 97 & it was an honour to be able to speak with him. So blessed to have the opportunity to do this through my job!</span></td></tr>
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thefaceofgracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18143970995251531519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332620057624743619.post-7295475580699283972013-10-23T18:08:00.000-07:002013-12-09T04:37:25.771-08:00i'm settled. fortunate. content. ready.<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>part one:</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">so it's been 10 days. gosh, only 10 days! i've been busy. i moved out of the hostel and into the house, which is very exciting. i got a mattress for <span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;">£10 from a place called Shabitat (aka Magpie Recycling) on Lewes Road. i got a duvet, a pillow & some sheets, and i treated myself to a nice blanket made from recycled plastic fibres, sounds uncomfortable but it is so amazingly snuggly and warm. i've been to job trials and interviews. and i have been successful. i have got a job working as a street fundraiser for <a href="http://www.greenpeace.org.uk/" target="_blank">greenpeace uk</a>. i have training in London next wednesday, and then it is a monday to friday job in and around brighton. this is exciting and a little bit daunting for me. but i'm happy. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 19px;">i went to London and saw the cat empire play at the o2 academy, brixton, with my housemate ren. they were amazing, and it was really lovely to see them perform with ren, who loves their music as much as i do. we talked about it on the train home early the next morning, all its elements, what makes it great, their obvious passion for song writing and performance. the energy they have on the stage. the light show and all the work that goes into making the performance what it is: spectacular! it makes me miss my brother a bit. i always think of him when i hear the cat empire playing live. such exciting memories of those performances we went to together. i'm sure we will go to some more in the future..</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;"><b>circus - <i>and a deeper understanding of life. </i></b>i met faezeh through jem, a friend of luke's. we played around in the pavillion gardens last week, doing some acro & various other circusy things. then we attended a circus class together last friday. we caught the bus and walked to this plain old brick church in a sort of industrial area - and then inside it was crammed with mats, trampolines, gymnastics equipment... i discovered that my handstand is all wrong - my shape is terrible. my muscles are not strong enough and i am not balanced. and that is fine, good even. i have something to really work towards. practice </span><span style="line-height: 19px;">practice practice. the other students in the class were amazing. just average people, they didn't look exceptionally fit or flexible at first glance, but they were incredible. i would've been quite happy to sit there and watch. i almost didn't want to try anything! but i will get my fitness up and one day i will feel that we are at the same level. i have to look at it as a goal. i feel like the more i realise that there are things i cant do, the more i want to give them a go, and learn and practice and succeed, or fail, but at least experience them. i think that is probably a dang good thing really. i think that is becoming my goal for every aspect of my life. jobs. food. circus. map reading! i just have to put myself out there, and it will pay off - i am already seeing that. i also think it is a bit easier because i am feeling content, being in such an accepting and supportive group of people... it is very natural. everything is natural. natural. its a word that keeps popping up in everything i think about, or examine or analyse. the people i am around are natural. i'm in a place where being natural is accepted, encouraged. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">sometimes i do feel very young, and naive, and inexperienced. i am young. sometimes i feel like a fraud, like the words i say or the way i live my life isn't real or true. but that is because i am not 100% totally sure about myself, and my views and opinions. and i might never be. i mean, who am i? who the hell am i? there will always be doubts. i am living with people who are older and have had such interesting and soulful experiences and adventures. i have to keep reminding myself that when i am their age, i will be able to look back on this period of my life in the same way they describe their early 20s to me. it is a scary and brilliant time, with lots of exploring. every day i am challenged - i think about the world, i think about myself, and what i am doing in this world. and what i can do, and should do, and will do. my obligations, my responsibilities. my wants. my needs. things i'm greedy about. things i don't take enough notice of. things i care about too much. my priorities. my decisions. my choices. things i've missed out on. things i regret. things i plan to do. there is a lot to think about. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">i am in a hugely uncertain time in my life. and that is good. i am enjoying the uncertainty, because although it is uncertain, it is still safe. it is uncertain on my terms. i have the power to make it anything i want it to be. i have been reading about the greenpeace activists who are currently incarcerated in a russian prison on hooliganism charges (just down graded from piracy), and they are facing 7 years behind bars. now that is uncertainty. and it is certainly not on their terms. they can fight, and they will, but it is not their decision. and that is scary. i feel comfort knowing that i am in control. and that makes me want to help. i have power. i have a voice. i am in control. i can and will make mistakes, but what kind of mistakes will they be..?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;"><b>part two:</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">some words that sum up my life right now:</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;"><u>natural</u> - everything is okay, its organic, there is nothing to be ashamed of or embarrassed about</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;"><u>nourishing</u> - the food, the people, the conversation, the atmosphere</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;"><u>free</u> - i am holding my world in my hands, and i can do anything with it</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;"><u>educational</u> - but just in the sense that everything is new and i am learning and changing and opening my eyes, and having my eyes opened by others, i am understanding, and seeing things from </span><span style="line-height: 19px;">different perspectives. and i am open to this, finally!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;"><u>real</u> - this is not a dream, it is real, this is life and life is what you make it, and i am doing my best to make it beautiful and worthwhile </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;"><u>fortunate</u> - im so blessed, so lucky to be where i am. thank you to my family, my friends, a higher power?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;"><u>content</u> - on seeing/hearing that i am content my 'sister' said that it is "the best - happiness comes and goes, but contentment is a </span><span style="line-height: 19px;">deeper 'good' feeling". she is right. i am content, right this moment. i am feeling quite neutral. neither happy nor sad. just content.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;"><b>part three:</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">some words from my first night in the house.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Today I (officially) moved out of the hostel and into the share house I have been raving on about. It is quiet. Not sound quiet, but people quiet - movement quiet. There’s always noise and rhythm and singing and rapping coming from Ren’s room next door to mine, but it is sort of private, contained. Whereas at the hostel, even if no one else is around, it feels full, which it is. It’s not to say that it is a let down, or that I am unhappy being in the house, because that is certainly not the case. It was just the first time that I have been alone, just with my thoughts, in a couple of weeks. I got my stuff into the room, it was in a pile on the floor. And then, I just sat there for a good 20 minutes, not really thinking about anything in particular. But I couldn’t help but feel sadness. Its like taking a big deep breath when you haven’t taken one for a while. It is refreshing. I sat thinking about how the past couple of weeks have flown by. I cannot believe how quickly I adapted to life in the hostel, how friendships were cemented in those first few days, and how much I will miss being there, despite it being cramped, despite there being very little privacy. And now, here is another huge change. And its crazy really, when you think about it. But it feels good. It feels great. It is exciting and scary and unbelievable. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">My faith in people, in human kind has really been restored. People are beautiful and kind. They care. They trust. You know that a hug can say so much. And the people I have been meeting give good hugs. My brother has a certain way of hugging where you can just sink and feel totally comfortable and safe and lose track of all your thoughts. His hug is a special kind of hug. And then I met 2 people in particular here, who give that same kind of hug. Not exactly the same - but it felt like home. There is this touch of their hands where you just feel accepted and comfortable. It is beyond words - I cannot express it in words. It is a feeling. It puts a smile on my face. It is nice to have an arm around your shoulder...</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /><b>part four:</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Lastly I have written my impressions of everyone I have met so far - I do not intend to publish them without their permission. But here is one for you Pedro, thank you!</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I was blessed to meet <b>Pedro Ventura</b> (yes that is his name). He took me to buy a towel on my first day at the hostel. I was an emotional wreck - I could not speak as I would cry. But he took me out. And I got my towel. And we got coffee. And we chatted. We talked about politics and how terrible they can be. We talked about education, and compared the systems in Australia and Portugal. We talked about rich people, and how money is such a waste. And you wouldn’t think we would have a conversation like that, because there is rarely a serious moment with Pedro now. His laugh is truly contagious. And usually whatever bollocks is coming out of his mouth is hilarious, there is always giggles and laughs with Pedro because he is “the best”..</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">i am very much enjoying writing again. i used to love writing, and then i lost it for a while. words are fascinating. putting a sentence together is thrilling. making a point, explaining something. telling a story. describing, documenting. i love it. <b>thank you for reading. </b></span></div>
thefaceofgracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18143970995251531519noreply@blogger.com0