I decided to delete the exuberant number of posts I had here (read: 2) and begin this blog again, with a different purpose.
As I'm travelling in the near-distant future, I've also figured it'd be a good idea to document this. The working to save some money. The incessant Google-hunts where I drool over the history of buildings, the aromas of food that I've only been told about, and where I plant gleaming red pins on a giant map of Europe.
So far, I'm on a bit of a low. Illness has pranced into my life in a most unwelcome way, and thus? This week, nil dollars to the Travel Expedition of Awesome and Win.
Be that as it may, it still doesn't trample my goals, and the Google-hunting which is becoming my new favourite pastime. (Yeah, I know. I really need a life. You try living in a tiny town on the Northern Rivers without a licence. I dare you.) And lately I've been wondering - do I supplement the History-English-Nerdfest with a welcome serve of Foodfest? (And, if money allows, Glastonbury, simply because I aim to do a few big things.) The Foodfest idea has grown in my head - somehow, it's taking over most of my Nerdfest. Not too sure how I feel about this, but it's happening, and it's happening for a reason.
My family would regard themselves as foodies; my mother is probably the only one who is justified in giving herself that label.
We were sitting in a pub last Wednesday. I was fighting down nausea by telling my body that it was going to be having chicken schnitzel and chips.
"So, I was thinking," I said to her, staring at the buzzer and willing it to start flashing red glaring lights in my face, "that when I went travelling I'd go to one of those top 50 places, if I've got the money."
Her eyes light up. I can almost see her saying, "You WILL have enough money. YOU WILL."
"El Bulli?" she says instead, sipping her lemon, lime and bitters.
"That's closing or something." I'd read the website in my Spanish, and had simply skimmed the English when I realised the site was able to be translated.
"Heston Blumenthal's is next on the list."
(It would appear that my mother has most of the list memorised.)
"That'll cost me 310 pounds."
Mum waves that notion away. "It's Heston Blumenthal. Very worth it."
I'm considering that idea then, purely so I can take photos (if allowed) and send them to her. She'd have a field day.
The only problem with this fantasising is that this travelling will be coming soon - ideally, when I finish my degree I'll accept my diploma with a gracious smile, then rip off my graduation garb with a cackle of glee then run, a la Roadrunner, to Brisbane International Airport - but it won't be coming soon enough. I want to stay in England if I'm allowed to, or wherever takes my fancy. However, consulting with many a person, I have been told that having a degree is important. I am probably halfway through a three year degree, so it's not like I have to wait forever.
The waiting feels like forever, especially when stuck in aforementioned town.
So this rather longwinded post is an explanation to seven people.
Sigh and hurrah.
