My time in Hamburg was fleeting. I literally arrived off the overnight bus from Copenhagen, had a nap in the hotel lobby and then went on a walking tour. That is where I learned most of my shit in Hamburg. The rest of the shit I learned on a drunken night out with my new friends from in the dorm room…..
The first law that was passed in the constitution for the City of Hamburg is that it is illegal to burn down the town hall. This was after the Vikings did it more times than one can count to get back at the town folk and establish their awesomeness.
The organ in the crypt at St Jacobi’s church was played by Bach. During the second world war, the whole entire organ was disabled and put in the church basement to try and prevent damage to it. While the rest of the building was bombed to smitherines and everything else inside destroyed, the organ surprisingly survived under the ground and was eventually reconstructed.
The organ at the St. Jacobi’s Church that was played by Bach!
As we have discovered in our travels of Central America earlier, the same word for calling an inanimate object hot, ‘caliente’, when used to refer to oneself also means ‘horny’. This same issue also arises in German when a person uses the word for ‘cool’. It also means ‘horny’ in German…. I can’t remember what exactly that word is….
I would rather walk outside of the door of a church where they are asking for money in their donation box, tell them no, and then hand the money to a homeless guy. The church is rich enough as it is.
A metal sculpture sitting on a pile of bricks weeping over the tragic loss of lives during the destruction of buildings in Hamburg during WW2
The great fire started in a cigar factory. Unfortunately, there was an alcohol store next door to this. Even more unfortunate was that the alcohol shop owner was stupid. In a panic that his shop would be destroyed, he started pouring out all of the alcohol out of his shop window into the river. The river that was barely running because there wasn’t a great deal of water in it. When the fire trucks arrived and started pumping water out of the river to wet down all of the adjacent buildings so that they wouldn’t catch fire as easy, the opposite effect was observed. The entire row of buildings went up in flames as they had just been doused in alcohol. Good times all round….
The Beatles have a record shaped place called the Beatles Platz with artistic statues in the Reeperbahn. I learned later in the evening that the Reeperbahn is pretty much the ‘red light district’ of Hamburg. I had a very interesting night out here where I learned that DJ’s are incapable of finishing a song past the 1st chorus, that pizza is very awesome, and that hangovers are horrible on planes.
The Beatles jamming at the Beatles Platz in the Reeperbahn
Not a great deal learned, but I guess it is quite a bit for the 24 hours that I was there. I definitely think I will be needing to spend some more time navigating German cities 🙂
So I decided to go to Denmark in search of a prince to marry like my fellow Tasmanian, Princess Mary. While I did not manage to find a prince, I did however manage to learn quite a lot of shit…..
We shall start with Shit That I Did Not Know Was Danish….
Lego – Now apparently the largest selling toy company in the world (they are ecstatic to be beating Barbie), Lego started right in Denmark in the 1920’s and still uses the same structure for their blocks. A block made 80 years ago will still fit a block today.
A whole display made of Lego! Glorious Lego!
Pandora Bracelets – I am so glad that I didn’t know this to tell my Mum before I left!!
The Little Mermaid – This is a fairytale written by the famous writer Hans Christian Anderson and yet I didn’t realize. There is a Little Mermaid statue in the harbour of Copenhagen and it is ridiculously underwhelming…. well until you take the boat tour and they inform you that the mermaid statue has had its’ head decapitated twice and it had to get recast.
The most hyped-up and underwhelming statue in all of Europe, “The Little Mermaid”.
Aqua – Hooray! We can thank the Danes for that horrific song “Barbie Girl” that rang out in the 90’s and made everyone’s head hurt.
Awesome Danish People
Niels Bohr – For any fellow science nerds out there you shall also share my excitement! Known for his quantum model of the atom known as the Bohr atom, he postulated that electrons can move through energy levels of a set quantity in an atom. For those of you who are not science nerds, know that this is kick arse. When the German’s decided to create atrocities against the Jews in World War 2, it was Niels Bohr who negotiated with the Swedish government to immigrate 90 percent of Danish Jews in the city to Sweden in return for him agreeing to go to the United States and work with Albert Einstein on the Manhattan Project. This is basically the race to see who can make the atomic bomb the fastest. Anyway, not only is he a quantum physics and Nobel Prize winning genius, he is a pretty fucking awesome Danish guy!
The canals of Copenhagen
Danish People in World War 2 – Speaking of World War 2 and the Jews, the Danes showed a lot of compassion towards their Jewish population. During the war, the Red Cross would send care packages to all of the Danish occupants of the concentration camps courtesy of the Danish Government worth up to 2 million dollars. These care packages, despite being raided by the camp control, managed to keep majority of the Danes alive. At the end of the war, the government sent a whole bunch of white buses to collect their citizens and bring them home. Upon arrival home, most of the prisoners discovered that their fellow countrymen had kept all of their affairs in order for them and when they came home, they came home to lives that resembled what they had left behind. I was moved by how considerate these people are of each other.
Queen Margaret the Second – Tell me any other queen in the world that is cool enough to help provide the Danish translation of the Lord of the Rings and to provide all of the illustrations for it? Enough said!
Amalienborg Palace – where the current Queen Margaret lives and where the future queen and my probable relative Crown Princess Mary lives.
Hans Christian Anderson – Once upon a time there was a small boy who moved to Copenhagen at the age of 14 and tried his hand at the national ballet. After being terrible and them ousting him, he then tried his hand at the choir. He was also terrible at that and kicked out of the choir too. He then tried his hand at the theatre and was absolutely fabulous… well for a while anyway. While he was working at the theatre he became renowned for his incredible stories. And so he wrote a few of them down and they became published and after many, many years, Disney decided to make movies about his stories like “The Little Mermaid”, “Frozen” and “The Emperor’s New Clothes”. He became very famous and lived happily ever after, the end.
Just chillin’ with Hans 🙂
Other interesting facts
“Hygge” is a fabulous word, and while it has not direct translation to English, anything that can be thought of as being a good time can be ‘hygge’.
The Danish revolution happened in a pub…. apparently.
Buildings in some parts of the city don’t have square corners. They are cut at an angle to allow fire trucks to be able to adequately turn around corners and so that fire hoses didn’t kink and stop working after the God-knows how many-th fire they had in Denmark.
The Danish Government just passed a be able to take any valuables off immigrants settling into Denmark to help pay for their stay in the welfare state….. shame on you Denmark!
Christiania is the only self contained community that regulates themselves with their rules. They consider themselves an entity outside of the EU. In the Green Light District (where a shit ton of marijuana is sold) they profit over a million dollars a year. Not bad for a place that was created by homeless people and junkies breaking in and settling in abandoned buildings of the army barracks.
The gates of Christiania, where no photography and a shit load of weed is allowed.
Woden is the English name for the Norse god, Odin. It is his name that gives rise to the day of the week known as Wednesday. Thor’s name gave rise to Thursday. And the goddess of fertility Freya gave her name to Friday.
Oh and I also learned that Denmark is fucking cold and one needs to take thermals. Other than that, that is me for the week! Until the next!
Those who know me personally will know that I am stubborn as a mule. We’ve already established in previous posts that I hate asking for help (and am still yet to do my help challenge six months on). This week’s stubbornness and argumentative battle is between me and multiple viruses, bacteria and fungi. And believe me when I say I am seriously pissed.
The unexpected visitors arrived on Australia Day and sent me home from work to roll around in a pool of my own feverous sweat instead of drunkenly rolling around in the sweat of others with my friends at a club party. Despite how upset this made me, I was determined to not lose my income as well so I drugged myself to the eyeballs so I couldn’t feel my face and went to work only to have my colleagues force me to go home by lunch.
By Friday, and still in a state of extreme high from my marvelous concoction, I’d contracted a stomach virus on top of the cold and I was exhausted. I curled up in a ball on my yoga mat underneath my desk on the office floor and passed out for an hour and a half. Upon waking, I discover that kids have walked past the door, saw me on the floor and decided to raise the alarm. I am lucky that my boss found this funny and told them it was fine. Apparently “surviving” is an appropriate way to spend professional planning time. “Planning efficient use of the little energy one has in her expenditure”.
Anyway, I survived to the weekend. I had barely eaten in 4 days (apparently naming your stomach infection Billy Bob and celebrating the loss of 5 kg and getting skinny is not the appropriate thing to do in this case) and I figured that by the end of the weekend I could kick it. And let’s be honest, I was also bored as hell and couldn’t do any more movies. So I haul arsed out of bed and went down the road to buy 6 chicken Kievs and a couple of onions.
Onion all be just chillin’ on the desk and shit.
According to the Internet onions in your sock help detox the body. And garlic in your ears acts as an anti inflammatory. And cut onions in your room absorb all the nasties. As a scientist I put all of this to the test and sat eating 3 of my Kievs upon return of appetite rolling around in onions with garlic in my ears watching Bridget Jones (I may or may not also have been high on cough syrup). And while all of this may have worked in my mind (or it could have been the drugs), it was one of the few entertaining days I had whilst I’ll on my own with nobody to entertain me.
Hanging with some Bridget Jones with some garlic in my ears
Add to this whole thing that I have been having voiceless shouting matches with my moron landlord about the mould problem in my room and I was in fighting form. Imagine my response to ‘but the leak is from clean water so the mould should be clean mould’.
Yep, that be some pretty clean looking mould right there.
Anyway come Sunday, I am worse again, and I have gotten fed up with this shit. I can’t afford the loss of income so I dragged arse to the walk in clinic. My friend Tim always says “by the time you make it to a doctor you are about 36 hours too late”. He ain’t wrong. Though in this case it’s about 4 days too late.
Onion slices in the socks and ready to go!
So they will apparently see me in 2 hours after their massive waiting list wanes and sent me off to entertain myself for a while. So here I sit in Pret A Manger drinking hot chocolate, high again on cough syrup and drugs “finding Wally” (a man in a Wally hat as he goes up and down the street much to my humour) waiting to be reunited with my bestie after a 2 month hiatus of friendship ridiculousness. With a bit of luck that will be it for my 2 yearly visit to a doctor and I can go back to being a lucid, face-feeling human being instead of living life like that song by The Weekend. “I can’t feel my face when I’m with you…..”
TWO HOURS LATER…..
After passing the painful waiting room time with a bestie catch up, I managed to get in to see a doctor. She graciously gave me the most kick arse antibiotics she had in her cupboard. She also sent me off with what I like to refer to as “my ventolin bong” to open my airways. Between the pure sweet smell of oxygen and salbutamol, the tasty tastiness of cough syrup and antibiotics coursing through my veins, I am starting to feel somewhat normal.
Me and my new ‘ventolin bong’ hanging about drinking tea with my bestie in the Costa Coffee.
Go home, roll around on the shower floor for a while because that is what you do when you are ill and high (or drunk), then step on scales…. wonder a) how high actually am I because scale gives ridiculously low number? b) after double checking said figure about four times wonder how I have managed to lose 12kg in 6 days…. and c) decided this was enough of a reason to eat 3 more chicken Kievs. Well done Billy Bob. You did good. High five! Shame about you immune system. You suck….
You can always tell the measure of a good place and the people you meet within it by the amount of shit you learn. I learned quite a lot of shit during my weekend in Cologne so here we go….
When I arrived in Cologne I figured that I would be able to get around most of the sights in the space of the day so I would take a day out on Sunday and go shopping….. but no.
Cologne’s shops and supermarkets are all completely closed on Sunday. This means that I had to do my shopping on Saturday instead and do all my food shopping for Sunday the day before as well
Whilst taking my Saturday out to shop, I learned a few other interesting things:
German’s appear to have no idea what the English lyrics to the songs they are playing in their clothing stores at 2pm in the afternoon actually mean. It is here I find myself standing next to a 9 year old listening to a rap musician sing about ‘how dis nigga is gonna slam dunk some motherfucking pussy….?!?!’ I am both horrified and slightly amused at this. I later found out that my new German friend got told off when she was about 14 because the first song that she ever learned in English was about ‘sucking dicks’ and was found singing it very loudly in public when her mother had to stop her and explain. And I thought all German’s had pretty good English… well they do except for the vulgar and inappropriate.
Another hilarious example of German inappropriacy 🙂
It doesn’t matter how many Primark stores I visit, or in which country that the Primark is in, the people who shop in Primark all totally shit me to tears. (For those not familiar with Australian slang… they annoy me very, very much.
I have an obsession with shopping for earrings and underwear. 7 pairs of earrings purchased in one day… we won’t discuss my penchant for underwear.
The famous Dom Cathedral
I was also fortunate enough to learn that a blast from my past (a friend from my old school days of working at KFC when I was 15 now actually lives in Cologne with his girlfriend. We met up and went out with some others from the hostel. While the rest of us stared at him like he was nuts, my friend told us about this game in a bar where you sit around a circular tree stump and take turns at hammering a nail into the wood with the small end of the hammer. We went. We played. I learned that this is awesome and I want one in my backyard! I also learned that while in Australia, we do our best to remove all kinds of weapons from bars, including glass bottles. In Germany, all you need to do is give the bar a twenty Euro deposit and they will give you a hammer…..
The nail hammering game at the pub of unknown location because I was too drunk to remember how we got there.
The Sunday we got up and went on the walking tour around the city in the snow. Walking tours are always full of learning and this one was no exception.
Given that the Dom (the most impressive Cathedral in Cologne, and that I have ever seen) was built by those from Dusseldorf, and that those from Cologne and Dusseldorf hate each other, that when the city hall was build, they decided to make a salute to the Dom…. In the form of including statues baring their naked arses oriented in the direction of the Dom. One of them even looks like it is giving itself fellatio. Hmmm…. what a way to say fuck you!
A moon to the Dom. And if you look super close you can see he’s nearly able to get a tooth on it 😉
Speaking of phallic symbols, some random artist guy decided that to give his seal of approval to art galleries around town that he would randomly paint bananas alongside the art galleries doors. This caused huge outrage (of course) and then people started painting their own bananas. Which aren’t the original bananas, so this is stealing. Of all the questions though, there is this…. why bananas? Well apparently the banana is like life….. nothing about it is straight.
Cologne is from cologne. Yeah I probably should have figured this one out already but I never actually took the time to properly process and think about that one.
The building that was home to the famous 4711 cologne.
There is a gold painted Ford Fiesta on the roof of a building…..
A gold Ford on a building??
The lock selling industry here in Cologne must be out of this world considering how many people have locked their hearts to someone else on the bridge. Wonder how many regret that now?
A small portion of the massive locked up bridge across the Rhine River.
Mostly what I learned in Cologne is that it is really great to catch up and reminisce with old friends. I also learned that sometimes life will massively surprise you and send you exactly what you need, especially in times when you feel like you are in a drab routine you can’t get out of. Anyway, the next adventure is up and coming in a couple of weeks! I shall let you know what I learn on that one! Til now, happy learning!
After eating my way through the Netherlands, this continued as I journeyed through Belgium. Whilst in Belgium I explored the essence of waffles, chocolate, beer and a whole other spectrum of personal demons as we prepare to bring in the New Year… so here it is, some personal, some ridiculous and some factual, this is Shit I Learned In Belgium!
There is a statue of a small boy pissing in the city centre known as the “Mannekin Pis”. For some reason this has become a national symbol of the Belgians and it is hilarious. On top of the Mannekin Pis, there had to be a lady version of this bought about to match the humour of the boy. As such, they have the “Jeanneke Pis”. This is the cheekiest and most amazing statue ever! I am in love with her and find it a total shame that they have hidden her in a back alley.
Cheeky lil Miss Jeanneke Pis!
There are three things I totally hate in this world. One is coffee. YUK!! Massively detest. The second is olives. And the third is beer. For some reason I seem to have this avid loathing of all things that other people seem to love. And yet, here, in the country of beer, I DRANK MY FIRST BEER!! OK so it was a Lindeman’s Raspberry flavoured one and it tasted nothing like beer and more like a raspberry soft drink, but hurrah! Winning! Am a beer drinker! (Well, kinda….)
The beer in question
“French” fries are actually not French, but actually Belgian. As French is spoken in Belgium, it appears that the American’s who came over to visit and took them home gave them the name “French fries” with the misunderstanding that despite French being spoken there that they are not in fact French. In the many years I have been going to the pub to have meals and they are served with a side of salad and fries I never realized that this is where it comes from. So what else do you eat for your New Years Eve dinner except a Flemish stew with a side of fries and salad. Delicious!
Traditional Belgian Flemish stew
On the topic of New Years, I decided one evening in the company of a friend and under the influence of much wine that deleting the phone numbers/messages/Facebook profiles of any ex boyfriends or even dates was a smashing way to start over. Of course the great man Murphy is not having any of this shit and sees to it that you get messages from majority of them in the following week of deletion, even from ones you dumped two years ago, just to test how strong your resolution not to message the fuckers back is. So far excellent. No messages despite how much I want to tell them they are ginormous nobs. Well done me! Have learned self control this week.
The word for whipped cream in Dutch is ‘slagroom’. I literally cannot help but find this funny.
The only European colonization of a country where the profits reaped from this country went to a solo king and not to the state was when Leopold invaded and took charge of the Congo.
Speaking of the Congo, I did not realize Tintin was a Belgian cartoon and the second of the comic books was ‘Tintin in the Congo’ featuring one of the most racist representation of the African’s you have ever seen. You can Google this and find the comic online but apparently this is an amended and tamer version than the previously more racist version… it is still however, quite racist.
And the final thing I learned in Belgium is that pretending that you don’t speak French, Dutch or English by speaking Spanish instead will always get you into trouble because everybody seems to speak about a million languages and the ones they speak are totally unpredictable. I got caught speaking to a strange man in the street because he spoke Spanish…. excellent!
Keep you posted on the next adventures! Until then, happy reading and learning!
I was a fortunate enough lady to get 16 whole days off from teaching the herds of feral animals at school and to embark on a trip to The Netherlands and Belgium. The best thing about this is that my friend who I met this time last year in a hostel in Bali invited me to stay with her in Utrecht for a bit and to also spend Christmas eve night with her family for dinner. Not only did I learn from this that I am a luck lady for having such great people in my life, I learned a few other classic Danni things…. here are just a few from the Netherlands! Belgium is a whole other story and will just have to come a bit later…
Knuffelen…. The best word to use to pick up the Dutch folk. It means “cuddles?”
My first dutch “knuffelen” from the lovely Bola!
When visiting a peep show in the Red Light District, one should not give a running commentary… So here I am on a walking tour alone getting sent in to see a peep show. I join a box with a Chinese girl I’ve just met. I didn’t even manage to catch her name before we’re thrown in. Her first comment is “wow that guy has a really ugly, bald head…” OK. This is an acceptable comment… kinda… My first comment was “Wow she clearly isn’t enjoying that! Dry as fuck! Like rubbing sandpaper on your vagina! Send in the lube brigade!!” The guy clearly hears me as he stares right and me and then pulls back her legs to give me a better view. “Yep. I was right! No glistening rays of sunshine there… dry as fuck! This is boring! I’m outta here….”. Sometimes I need to close my mouth and just leave it that way… especially in the Red Light District hahahaha (ba boom ching… double funny).
Wijn actually means “wine”… too easy!
Dutch Tinder is way more entertaining than English Tinder… senses of humour are rampant. I met a guy who both studies AND possesses genetics. What a catch!
More amazing food at the pre Christmas Markets in Den Bosch.
Van Gogh painted hundreds of paintings that are just exceptional. It is a shame that he lost his mind and couldn’t cope with staying on earth any longer to grace us with more of his magnificence.
When one engages in eating about 6 oliebollen (Dutch round fried donut with raisins) a day, one will get fat. No doubt about it all. I’ve tried and tested this theory avidly.
On the topic of food, they invented my perfect dessert… they call it a “Bossche bollen”. It is basically a giant ball of whipped cream with as little pastry as possible encasing it and then they roll it in chocolate for good measure. It’s almost as good as eating whipped cream from the can and way more socially acceptable.
Dutch clothing shops are cool and next time I should bring less in my bag if I don’t want to wind up stuffing half of my belongings in my already tight pants from eating too much shit….
Oh and flirting with train inspectors will get you out of a fine. Especially when you explain to them that you have no idea whether the ticket worked or not because you don’t read or speak Dutch. “I’m Australian… (Te he he, hair flick…) “please help me! I don’t know what I am doing! Knuffelen?! :)” That said I don’t know whether this is what my friend Helen had in mind for “Servitude September” which I clearly didn’t do because… well ok, just because…. (stay tuned for my second attempt), but I will try pass it off anyway.
Well that is it for the new year! Catch you all next week!
Looking back on the year that was 2015, this was the most life defining moment. It has probably been one of the most defining moments I have ever had in my life. It lead to 6 months of struggling to do things I could ordinarily do with ease. It lead to having to face my capabilities as a human that I’ve never had to deal with. It lead to further illness in India which saw me nearly hospitalized again. It saw me accept that I need a rest. And so I moved to London. I know I have been slack on the posts lately as I have been so frantic educating the youth of London but I promise to get these going again. It’s time to take from what I have learned in 2015, grow, move on and be better. Happy New Year all! I’ll be seeing you soon!
So I embarked on Everest Basecamp super optimistically. I had the whole thing planned out in my head of how it would go. I had my diamox to manage altitude sickness, cotton wool to stuff between my toes for blisters, an array of different medications for pain, swelling in my knees, general antibiotics for skin/chest/sinus infections, even pseudoephedrine in case I got a head cold. I was more prepared than most. And yet what I was moving towards was nothing that I could have prepared for…..
Two days out from leaving for our trip, if you had have asked me who was going to make it to the camp of me and my friend, I would have put money on me. She had gotten a chest infection from the dusty pollution of Kathmandu and I worked tirelessly for two days doing everything I could in my power to get…
As I approach the first “grown up person job” in a while, I thought it might be fun to look back on some of the crazy different jobs I have worked and other things I have done to make money to fund my travels…. Some of it is pretty funny so enjoy!
14 years old…. 1st job… KFC. Did it so much some nights I would come home and dream of putting chicken into a box with tongs… nuff said!
Singing in pub bands. First pub band was Freefall and some of the best times of my life. Started at 17, still somewhat ongoing. On and off I have played more gigs with bands such as Alphanumeric, Platinum Datsun, Multigroove (Melbourne) and quite a lot of acoustic duo work.
Typical Friday evening pub gig at the Royal Oak Hotel in Launceston, Tasmania, with my good friend Andy.
Driving a 50 ton suspended crane in an aluminium smelter. 12 hour rotational shifts in the baking furnace baking carbon anodes to be used in the electrolysis process. Dirty and hot work.
Eastport Organics Farm, Newfoundland, Canada where I gardened and weeded for a week or so for food and accommodation.
Laboratory technician for a biotech company. Mostly sterilization, chemical solution preparation and dish washing.
Hanging out with my good mate Cyril the Skeleton in the lab.
First Year Chemistry Department at Monash University. Fingers in so many pies here…. Laboratory demonstrations, tutorials, exam marking, practical design, preparation of chemicals, troubleshooting, the one on one help centre.
One of my lab classes at Monash University in the First Year Chemistry Department.
Folding children’s clothes at a kids clothing shop.
Selling watches and handbags
Selling hair and make up products at Aveda.
Singing in the drag bars of Toronto as support for Drag Queens or as a part of ensemble shows. I swear this was one of the most fun jobs I have ever done! Too good!
Another Christina Aguilera number in Crews and Tangos, one of my favourite Drag Bars to sing in.
Medical testing…. I have written a blog post about this. I spent a lot of time doing non invasive brain function tests for the hospital research centre.
Chilling in the the medical research lab with my EEG cap on ready to do some testing on perception of musical tones
Walking flyers and posters around the neighborhoods. I have done this for at least a good 3 months every day.
Online reviews of cities and hostels.
Driving forklifts, doing crop reception and sweeping and shoveling for poppy harvest.
Substitute teaching and short term contract teaching involving every single subject you can possibly think of including kindergarten music.
A surprise some of my year 7 students left on the board for me on my last day of teaching them for 3 weeks.
Can collecting and bottle return… (may or may not have stolen cans from campground recycling bins throughout eastern Canada to fund our accommodation and petrol bill.
Online surveys
Focus groups
Cleaning and managing the front desk at a backpackers hostel.
Cleaning at the hostel was dirty work. The “Friendly Morning Cleaning Lady” left lots of interesting notes, like this one with regards to the handsoap in the mens shower…..
Promotions and marketing…. now this is a big one because each of the jobs I do are different. Many many sampling programs for things like milk, shampoo, icy hot packs, cans of Nestea and Quakers bars. There is also lots of hustling different contests. Below we will specify some of the more ridiculous jobs.
Looking like a Ghostbuster while distributing free hot chocolates to the masses in winter.
Driving a popsicle van for 3 weeks.
Chillin’ in my popsicle van and distributing the joy of flavoured ice.
Dressing up in ridiculous costumes such as Shaun the Sheep or Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz.
Dressed as Timmy the Sheep and trying to hide from all the kids during break that were pulling on my tail and grabbing at me. Hard and hot work.
Placing stickers on men’s urinals in pubs so they can pee on teams they don’t like.
Filming a commercial for Edo Japan as the Edo Elf.
Out on the streets as the Edo Elf. This guy told me all kinds of fun stories about his days in the Masad…. ummm… yeah right…. not quite sure about that one.
While this is a non-comprehensive list as I am sure I have probably forgotten something, it is still pretty ridiculous and funny. What is the worst job you have ever had? And better yet, is there anything here you’d like to know more about? Happy reading and I look forward to your input! 🙂
This time 5 years ago I was sitting in my unit in Melbourne packing my entire life into boxes. I would never have anticipated any of the things that happened to me over those 5 years to come and yet somehow here we are, not even sad in many ways to be leaving somewhere that was my second home for 5 years and teetering on another massive change. Like a relationship gone sour and that has gone on for too long, it is time to walk away.
But like with any relationship that ends, it doesn’t mean that you don’t look back on it from time to time with fond memories. And of course there are always the hard lessons that you learn and take with you.
So I wanted to take this chance to look at the years that passed, the highlights and some of the lessons learned.
2010
I arrived into Toronto for the first time on the 12th October, 2010. My friend from high school that lived there picked me up from the airport, which helped make such a daunting move a little easier. I moved into the HI backpackers hostel on Church St and was soon met with Tash, one of my closest friends from home. She came on a visa to meet with me. I came on a visa to meet with a boyfriend that had fallen to pieces months before I even boarded the plane but not before I had booked my ticket.
Tash and I spending our first Halloween together carving pumpkins a month after arriving in Toronto.
We shared a room and ridiculous room mates in a place that still to this day holds some amazing memories for me. My first ever proper Halloween in the snow, my first hockey match, my introduction to the infamous Tim Hortons and so it goes on.
I got three jobs. My first being at Fossil selling watches and handbags, then at Aveda as a Christmas cashier and also at the Children’s Place folding kids clothing. I busted my arse 80 hours a week and it was only here that I started to learn the real value of money, doing it hard and having the arse out of your pants. After my first ever white Christmas, the work stopped and so we saw in 2011 (dancing down the street chanting like a pack of losers to the most anticlimactic fireworks you’d ever seen).
2011
The year started hard. As I lost two of my jobs, with Aveda being the only one left I learned the importance of good friendships in times of utter boredom. The girls at Aveda kept me going with their amazingness, jokes and incredible support. These are the best work colleagues I have ever had and even though we are now spread all over the world I love them dearly. It is because of one of these “gurls” that one night my broke arse wound up in the drag bar Crews and Tango competing in Candice’s Star Search for the prize money to keep me fed that week. This started me getting jobs supporting other drag Queens in their shows and I became a semi regular about the place. It was incredible fun and taught me how to be a better performer. I will never forget the experiences I had in this place and the accepting nature with which I was taken in.
Singing in the drag bar, Crews and Tango on Church St
Upon entering into March I was starting to get shitty. No hours. No money. I didn’t move halfway across the world to work for 10 dollars an hour to have all of my savings drained on keeping my head afloat during winter. So I quit my job, packed my bag and went on a 3 month camping trip around the United States.
After my whirlwind trip around the US I came back revitalized and broke. The plan was to go west, then go home and make some money. But as fate was to have it, I met a boy and stayed another 3 months in Toronto. It was in this time I started working promo work, handing out chocolate bar samples or restaurant cards in guerilla type activations. It had good pay. I also went back to doing some more work in the drag bars and getting involved in showcases. It allowed me to live more comfortably. The thing was, I had booked my ticket home, and so I went. It was the hardest time of it I had leaving Canada. And yet I was to be back.
2012
After a stint of teaching and harvesting poppies at home I went back to Canada in March. I spent my days living in the backpackers hostel in Kensington with some of the biggest weirdos you will ever meet. One woman was convinced that her husband had paid off all Tim Horton’s employees to try and poison her…. but in among those crazies were also some great people. I walked flyers and posters around the neighborhoods for 11 dollars an hour for 5 to 7 hours a day every day. I was in essence scraping the bottom of my Canadian finances to survive. One night I was walking to Chinatown after paying rent with ten dollars to my name to feed me for 5 days when I saw a sign for a dishwasher for the night and took it. Luck me in that 8 hours later I left with 80 dollars, a three course meal and three grocery bags of leftover food. I made it work until my then boyfriend got out of the military and in July we set off driving from Toronto over to Newfoundland for 3 months.
Hanging about on the coast of Nova Scotia on the eastern road trip.
We camped, we explored, I got a better understanding of Canadian history. I saw and ate my first ever moose. I picked wild berries from the bushes and ate them. Some of my fondest memories I have of Canada were spent in the days I lived and worked on Eastport Organics Farm. We sat on the beach with the dogs and ate pizzas and played guitar and sang. We went to kitchen parties with the locals. We had bonfires. It was a simple life and life at its best. I was happy there. But time was getting away from us and we headed back to Toronto to pack and leave for Central America. My first 2 year visa was almost up and it was time for a new adventure.
2013
After 8 months of travelling through Central America I decided it was time to go back and get my junk and make a move relocating west. I spent about a month in Toronto doing the odd promo until I found out I had a car lined up to drive across Canada from Montreal to Vancouver.
The famous Wawa goose in Ontario on my east to west road trip.
I arrived in Vancouver as usual, disorganized, with nowhere to stay, everywhere is booked out due to Justin Timberlake and Jay-Z in concert and I am having a freak out. I eventually found a backpackers hostel to stay in and spent some time chilling out and catching the sights before heading off to Vancouver Island for a week. Same went for Vancouver Island… didn’t book accommodation, had nowhere to sleep on Saturday night, pitched a one man British Army tent in the bush on an island that I thought was well hid and got caught by hippies. Many interesting times had by all.
I eventually double backed and relocated myself to Calgary. I started making beds and then doing the morning cleaning shift in the hostel I was living in and doing promo work. I worked so hard I barely had a day off. In the four months that I was there however I managed to see Drumheller, Dinosaur Provincial Park, Head Smashed In Buffalo Jump, hike through Kananaskis, drive up through Jasper National Park, add a few trips to Banff and I’d seen a lot. Come December I had reached my tether with working so much and on a random whim booked a flight to go and see my friend in London for Christmas on my way home for the brothers wedding.
A fossilized dinosaur skeleton from Drumheller.
2014
This was a Canada free year. I spent it at home mostly. Then in December I started travelling Asia again.
2015
I decided to renew my visa for the last time and go back to Canada as an option. My friend who I went to Nepal with and I had big plans for hiking and camping and all other manner of things. And then the pneumonia happened and my body became incapable of most of the things we had planned. I went back anyway because my body needed to rest.
At the top of Mount Yamnuska. First hike back after Everest Basecamp.
I took the odd promo work which was substantially less abundant than two years previous. I took a job at the hostel again, and it too wasn’t the same. With all that I had been through I had come to a few realizations. Firstly that I am over doing menial jobs for shit pay when I don’t have to. In many ways the jobs I took were nothing to ever take seriously because I always had a better out. Many I took because they were amusing to me. But after years of it, I am bored. My brain feels like it is dying from the lack of stimulation I receive on a day to day basis.
So it’s time to be more and work for a greater purpose. The second thing I realised was that I need to stop travelling and being around travellers for a while. My frustration at the lack of variety in conversations and different people I was meeting was killing me and my want to be social. It is time to find a new group of people and work on ‘staying’ for a while. And so begins the new challenge…. so I packed my bag and move to London.
For those of you reading this for the first time and are not sure entirely what it is that I am doing, read my previous post “Learning To Ask For Help in Servitude September”. For all others, kick back, enjoy the ride.
The warm up…
It is the 25th August and we have started early. Despite working with make up before and having a keen eye for it, today I asked the woman at Sephora to help me choose eyeshadows that will match my new red hair and green eyes. She helped me out. We had a discussion about different life related things, it was interesting and I left with what I needed feeling somewhat amused that I asked for help with something I didn’t need help with.
Entertherealchallenge….
September1
I am not having an awesome run of things today. After last night’s train getting cancelled and being stuck overnight again in Cardiff I decided to make the most of my day there.
I dropped my phone off to get it fixed while heading off to the museum. When I got back the phone wasn’t ready and I was running late for my train rendering me in a mental state. So I got the phone, got on the train and then realized that I had just paid 40 pounds to have an air bubble installed over my camera.
I eventually made it back to London. Despite having to ask people for help with many things… ie my train card was for yesterday, what do I do? Where can I find this? Blah blah blah I had lost my patience with trying to ask anyone to help me with anything. Partly because I don’t want help. And partly because I am annoyed with people screwing things up… namely my phone….
September2
It was my first day in the agency for work. I allowed someone to get me a cup of water instead of getting it for myself. Hurrah. Helped. And then shit took another turn for the worse when my oyster card for the train decided to stop working.
After just seeing a dive of a room to let I tried to buy my weekly pass for the tube. Oyster card not working. The man in the tube station is no help to me. All I want is for my card to work so I can go to my other house to look at and this dick head just keeps rambling on at me about why they are striking. Got fed up with him, left and called London Transit on the phone so the woman could tell me all of the amazing hoopla I needed to jump through to get money off the card. I eventually ended up out of pocket having to fix this damn thing but when I arrived at Stockholm station the man there seemed not only lovely but astute enough to help me in giving me a new card within the space of 2 minutes and I was on my way. Not that hard really???
September3
First day of school and I am pretty sure I drove people mental all day asking questions and for help getting all of the things I needed and my brain organized enough to deal with school. I am feeling a bucket load overwhelmed, and yet somehow still kinda ok.
September4
I again asked for a lot of help today in understanding timetables, curriculum, beginning to plan lessons etc. I think the thing is by day 4, is that I have so much stuff I have to rely on others for right now that I find it too overwhelming to take time out to then also ask for help with things I could do myself. I would feel like a full blown menace to society. Instead, I have resorted to going home and having a nap because it’s all a little too exhausting….
Thefourdaysummary
So I guess what we can say about this entire week is this…. I am in one of the most stressful transitions that a person can go through. I am too exhausted to ask people for help because I don’t trust people will do things effectively or correctly. Then it winds up costing me more time and effort fixing the problem that could have been avoided with me just doing it myself in the first place. Having bad luck with a whole bunch of things did not help this situation further. I am currently thinking that Servitude October might have been a smarter month as then I may be more settled and less stressed enough to actually deal with the challenge properly. That and I wouldn’t probably be failing quite so dismally at it as I am right now…. here is a novel idea…. maybe I should ask for help with asking for help! 🙂
Thomas Takes On.... 