A lot has happened in that time.
I recovered from the pudding, just in time, to ring in the New Year just like I had celebrated Christmas – at the World’s Greatest and a string of other publications, taking calls from The David Bowie Woman (a Fleet Street legend who I’ll write about later on) at two of them.
“Do you just move from paper to paper?” she asked me.
“I could say the same thing about you,” was what I really wanted to say, but I didn’t.
Australia Day was celebrated on the beach in Brighton with a ‘page three photo shoot’, wearing the Australian flag. Amy, 28, loves Prince Harry and hates yobs.
The next day it was off to my adopted homeland, Suid-Afrika, to ride a bike around Soweto, place some orders for some serious spells with a sangoma (witch doctor) and high tea at the Mount Nelson Hotel where we didn’t see Prince Harry or Chelsy (see below).
This was followed by more high tea in Sydney with the Bookclub Girls in my real homeland, along with a ‘makeup convention’ where I became Amy Fallonhouse and an exciting trip to Murbah with my family. Who said life in the colonies was dull, eh?
On the way back to the Old Dart I was supposed to have just three days in Mumbai. However after being plucked off a Colaba street as I was rushing back to a hotel where I’d been eaten by bed bugs with chronic diarrhea, a casting agent approached me and said, “Do you want to be in a Bollywood movie with Kylie Minogue?” The rest, as they say, is history.
When finally back in Blighty, I had the honour of going to the Cheltenham Races. I might be a girl who’s from The Tweed, but never have I seen so much of it in my entire life! Why did I ever knock my mother back on that lovely jacket???
In May, Lucas and I got a new flatmate Nick, after our Lovely Luna left us and went back to her family hood in Hackney: although for a good reason, to save up to go and live in Canada next year). After coming up with a very different Gumtree ad, in which we stated very clearly that the desired application ‘must wear Jimmy Choos’ we were swamped with people wanting to move in. (One person couldn’t actually move in, but phoned up to say that they liked our work, anyway). We said goodbye to Luna over a meal at the local Wapping Project, a very trendy restaurant featuring an art exhibition and asparagus (see left) in a disused power station in Wapping (rhymes with shopping), in east London.
I should point out here that I made the change to the east end just before Christmas after I could not stand living with Mussolini and his French sidekick in Willesden Green (although loved Kiwi Lisa). It’s a long story, but it began with moi leaving a pair of green wedge heals near the door after a night shift one night, and ended with the Kiwi and I screaming something like “You look out – we know people who know the All Blacks (coincidentally they were in town at the time)” . I won’t go into it as it’s a long story, but let’s just say that Lady Marcos isn’t the only one for whom shoes have caused major problems.
Despite not having found a successful cleaning lady yet, our new place is going well and we are getting along. I am loving the area because it’s so handy to work, and one night during a Sunday Times shift (coincidentally Murdoch’s empire is right down the road from my digs) even unearthed the fact that the area has some amazing historical links to Australian, New Zealand and South African history. Besides Captain Cook living in the area, there is also a watering hole, The Town of Ramsgate, where the convicts were taken before being transported to the new colonies. I have seen discovered a fantastic local historian who grew up in Stepney Green and conducts tours of Captain Cook’s area, and also been to the wonderful Museum of Docklands. As if this isn’t enough, we have some very famous neighbours – Helen Mirren and Graham Norton, to name just two! Although still haven’t sighted either of them.
The other reason that I love living in the east is that it is within walking distance of my beloved Shoreditch (or ‘the ditch’ as some have labelled it) with all its trendy clubs, bars and pubs. (There’s now even a bar where they serve cocktails in teapots). I am continuing to be thankful that my new hairdresser, John, has come into my life. Everytime I leave the salon I’m thrilled. (Unfortunately, I’m also pissed. Which could be his magic secret).
My credit card is seriously paying for all of this though, and having just seen Confessions of a Shopaholic with the very talented antipodean lass Isla Fischer, I’m considering freezing it. Literally. And maybe stashing just enough money for an icepick under my bed.
Speaking of a meltdown… in June I went to my first Arctic country, Iceland, for five days with Lisa. Although this was not before I had decided to embark upon a new career as a TESOL teacher (in addition to hack and Bollywood star). What was I thinking – phonetics, twelve tenses, five mixed conditionals, compound nouns, horseshoe seating arrangements. I’d rather be eaten by a crocodile (that’s a phrasal verb – I think). One of the highlights of the ‘Mickey Mouse school of English’ (as I call it) besides completely and utterly confusing new arrivals into Britain, was some of the people that I met, including lovely Rachel, who is also an east Londoner, loves drumming in her spare time and has been to Gambia.
I knew my teaching career was sealed for good when we were out a few weeks ago with a student and I asked him “how his weekend had been”. He couldn’t answer me. I have now decided that should I ever teach English to the Masai in Ngorongoro that I’ll just teach them whatever I want. I’m quite sure that they’ll have other things on their minds (ie daily survival) besides whether a tense is future continuous or future continuous perfect, anyway.
Although not having passed the grammar side of things (two days to learn phonetics? Yeah right, Teeline shorthand took a whole year!) I still went to Iceland. Well, I hadn’t been on a trip for a few weeks, after all. What a brilliant time – having a ‘Kate Winslet moment’ as I got up close and personal with massive icebergs on a boat, horseriding through lava fields a la Zara Phillips, looking at geysers and craters, drinking at Damon’s (that’s Damon from Blur) bar, taking Wombat on the road… and then having a much-needed mud mask at the Blue Lagoon on the way to the airport to get over it all. Total Ice Ice Baby. Stories and pix soon.
Once back in the capital it was time for… a music festival. Yes don’t fall down when you read this. Don’t worry though, it wasn’t the Isle of Wight or Glasto, where one must tramp through more mud than Dunkirk wearing obligatory Jimmy Choo wellies (or Primark) to get to stinky portaloos with shit all over the seats (or so I’m told) while desperately trying to resemble Kate or Peaches. Just The Killers in Hyde Park. But after complaining about the facilities there I was immediately advised “You won’t survive the others, then”.
Work suddenly became busy with Jacko now pushing up the daisies. To think we’d spent all that time doing Thatcher deathwatch. It was the biggest thing since Jade Goody (don’t get me started), even bigger. So when I went abroad again (after all, had only been back from Viking land for a week), this time to Berlin, one of the first places I went to was Hotel Adlon, scene of the infamous Baby Blanket dangling incident, to see if they were paying tributes. They weren’t – instead they were too busy trying to make a scone (requested by yours truly). Turns out that although Madam owns one tenth of the building, they aren’t too good on them. Can’t say ‘can’t complain about the service, there is none’ though – in the end I got not only a free coffee, but also ten scones. Now that’s an efficient country.
Turns out I wasn’t the only Aussie in town. Our very own PM had decided Ruddy bin ein Berliner. Gosh first Bucharest, now Berlin, he follows me everywhere! Sadly though, I did not get a glimpse of Kevin’s chin hanging over the Kevin 07th floor of the hotel (as a friend had suggested). Although I did see plenty of jelly donuts.
Other highlights of Germany include a trip to the zoo to see Knut, who was looking pretty pleased with himself following the news that he’s a Berliner for good, and a trip to the Wannsee conference resort, where Hitler and his elite men came up with the Final Solution. I would also recommend to anyone going to Berlin to visit the Sachsenhausen Concentration Camp.
It was used as not only a Nazi concentration camp, but also a camp run by the Soviets. Amazing history.
Back in the Old Dart, a lot of people and things have arrived. Mel, one of the original members of the Sydney Bookclub Girls, has moved over from the Merde. The Butterfly Jungle’s back at The Natural History Museum, and some kangaroos have been sighted on the south bank. (One of them’s even ‘designed’ by our own Elle ‘The Body’ Macpherson and if you spot a certain number of them, you can win a trip to Adelaide. Ripper!) Summer’s also here – yes really, this year. In fact the surf was up at Embankment a few weeks ago (nice try, chaps, but I had more sand in my backyard sandpit when I was growing up).
The temperature soaring above 20 degrees in the capital has caused much drama, with instructions to ‘carry water with you at all times’ on the Tube, where temperatures have even reportedly reached as high as 46 degrees and there have been apparent faintings. Oh the drama of it all. Meanwhile if you take a stroll through any of the city’s parks you can of course see more semi-nakedness than a Victoria’s Secret fashion show. It seems that while a lot of things have changed in Londinium, many others, like Kate Middleton’s employment status, haven’t. (Speaking of Waity Katy and Wills, there is some good news regarding them and a set of ceramic swans
Of course the other notable tourists in London at the moment are Ricky Ponting and the team, which has aroused much excitement in HRH The Boss. Latest Facebook status: “thought it was the Convicts who were supposed to get out of jail: outrageous, but funny!!!” And another one: “appreciated all the birthday greetings: now let’s concentrate on The Ashes, winning it AND making some money out of it”. And one from just one of The Chief’s many mates: “Happy birthday your Lordship! May your birthday be followed by a Convict humiliation!!” We are due to have one ‘last supper’ next week, before I Toss The Boss (ie suspend the friendship entirely).
And on that note, having ‘done and dusted’ (as The B would say) a complete update on the past ten months in the Old Dart, it’s ‘over and out’ (as he’d also say). More past and present adventures to come soon.