1. Booze
2. Disney World

I ended 2011 at a pretty insane house party somewhere in Orlando. Actually, if you ask me to tell you where it was, I’d fail. We were out in the middle of woop woop (I didn’t even know Orlando had a woop woop), there was a DJ, a piñata, a huge ass back yard with people setting off crazy-big fireworks and a fridge full of beer and liquor. It was like one of those house parties you see in those American college movies – complete with red solo cups, of course. By midnight, I probably couldn’t even tell you my name nor string together a college-educated sentence however I did enjoy random new American faces drooling over my adorable Australian accent. They tried to mimic it, not by repeating anything I said, but by saying phrases like “The dingo ate my baby” and “Throw another shrimp on the barbie” – regardless of whatever it was that they chose to say, they failed miserably. Oh, I do love Americans.

A wise man once told me there is only one way to cure a killer hang over:

1. Wake up and start drinking again

Since 2011 ended on a drunken note, it only seemed fair to wake up on New Years Day and continue drinking, after all, I would have hate for 2012 to get jealous of 2011′s drunken ways.

You can only imagine the delight I felt then when I was told that we would be spending the day drinking around the world at Epcot – possibly my favourite park at Disney World in Florida. Excellent.

This is us before the drinking commenced…

The World Showcase opened at 11am. Naturally this meant we were at the Mexican Pavilion at 11:01am. The Mexican Pavillion is good for three things:

1. Churros
2. Nachos
3. La Cava Del Tequila

La Cava Del Tequila is a MUST if you are ever at Epcot. They have every kind of tequila you could ever imagine and they have a pretty extensive margarita menu! If you follow them on twitter here @cavadeltequila and mention this while there, you can score yourself a $5 tequila shot!

My fave; the frozen mango margarita – absolutely delicious. I downed mine in record speeds and asked for a traveller. It just so happened that our wonderful bar tender accidentally threw too many ingredients into the blender so my one for the road became two. Oh, the pain and torture of having to drink three frozen mango margaritas in the span of thirty minutes *sigh*…

It may have only been 11:30am but I was already well and truly toasted. I wanted to frolic in a field of pansies. And by field of pansies, clearly I mean the German Pavilion to consume more delicious adult beverages.

This time it was the wine flight – we could pick any three German wines of our choice from the selection provided. My memory is somewhat clouded but I think I chose Apple Wine, Riesling, and Ice Wine. The later of the three was all sorts of scrumptious.

Three margarita and three wines in and there was no sign of stopping. Onto Italy we went to get ourselves some  more wine. We each ordered ourselves a glass of Moscato – it was undoubtedly delicious but the Italian Cast Members behind the bar that served us, even more so.

By this time I’m roughly 95% sure that I was slurring my words as I do when I’m extremely intoxicated. There was to be no stopping though, after all, the end was near! Hello France and hello orange Grand Marnier Slushy. If I wasn’t drunk enough already, then this thing definitely did it for me. It was muchos strong, but good, but stronggggg.

I’m not going to lie. After France I have limited memory of what happened. We ended up at the pub in England and while the boys chose to have Irish Carbombs I settled on a pint of Stella. I hadn’t had beer all day and was more than happy to put it ALL IN MY MOUTH! YES! Sweet, sweet beer. We made friends with our bar boys and they had photos with us. Their accents were all sorts of glorious music to my ears.

I guess after this we went and had Disney Photo Pass photos taken by a photographer, but I have no recollection whatsoever. You can imagine how shocked I was when I input my Photo Pass ID online the very next day and saw a string of professional photos that we had posed for… there was even a sorority-style pose in there :-/ Yeah, who knew?

And that was how I spent New Years Day.

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We decided to steer away from Cancun and stay around the Riviera Maya area at the Ocean Coral & Turquesa in Puerto Morelos. We were all upgraded to ocean view rooms which were so cute and colourful. The resort grounds were also very bright and so gorgeous to explore.

Our hotel was right on the beach and the view from our floor was just to die for. I spent a little bit of time up here snapping some photos and admiring the beauty that surrounded me. As much as I love laying out on the beach, I’m not a huge fan of swimming in them for two reasons; one, the salt water burns my eyes beyond belief and two, I am terrified of seaweed clinging to my feet and legs, it freaks me out so badly! This strip of beach is nice and quiet and away from the hustle and bustle of downtown Cancun.

And besides, why would I want to swim at the beach when I have four glorious pools to choose from… one complete with its own swim up bar! Kelly had gifted each of us with personalised sippy cups, about four times the size of the standard cups they served drinks in at the bar. Our resort was all inclusive which means, you guessed it, all you can drink of whatever it is you want to drink! We knocked back so many Miami Vice’s and beers in these bad boys so much so that when it was lunch time, I could barely doggie paddle out of the pool. I was also pretty much the only Australian in the entire resort so other tourists were quick to fall in love with my accent, one lady even telling her husband they were going to adopt me which was fine by me because they joined in on taking shots with us and they were American… hello green card! Haha.

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Would definitely love to go back and explore more of Mexico one day!

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In 28 days I will be jumping onto a plane and making the 20 hour trek across the Pacific back to Florida – my home away from home. When I think about heading back to Florida I get way too excited – I even squeal. It’s comparable to that of a tween being told she can make babies with Justin Bieber. Yes, for reals!

This will be my seventh trip back to the US in just under five years and fifth time being back in Florida. There are so many things in Florida that I have to be thankful for in my life, but nothing quite makes me happier than a Disney Christmas.

Through the month of December, here is a sneak peak of just some of the awesome things I will be getting up to. Sorry in advance for making you jealous…

1. Santa at Downtown Disney

I’m a total sucker for Mr. Claus. I love having my photo taken with him even if I am 25! Here’s the gorgeous shot we had taken at Downtown Disney during Christmas of 2009. Can’t wait to sport my Minnie Santa hat again – too cute!

2. The Osborne Spectacle of Dancing Lights – Hollywood Studios 

Australians generally fail at Christmas. Firstly, our Christmas unfortunately falls during summer and second, well, we kinda suck when it comes time to dowsing our homes in gorgeous, flashing fairy lights. When we headed over to The Osborne Spectacle of Dancing Lights at Hollywood Studios during Christmas of 2009, nothing could have prepared me for what I was about to experience. It was beautiful – like nothing I had ever seen before and it simply took my breathe away! They even had the lights flashing to the beat of all my fave Christmas carols – oh yeah, totes a sucker for Christmas carols too!

3. ICE! – Gaylord Palms Resort 

OK, so this is not technically a Disney event, but it is pretty cool (no pun intended). The Gaylord Palms Resort in Orlando puts on the most awesome Christmas ICE! exhibit that you will ever see in your life – everything is made out of carved ice! Temperatures drop below -13ºC so you’ll have to rug up in a big blue coat to check it out – they even have an ice slide… yes, you read that right… an ICE SLIDE! Like OMGz!

4. Candlelight Procession – Epcot

Each year, Epcot has a list of celebrities come around to take part in the Christmas Story reading and Candlelight Processions. After lining up for hours in the cold, we were lucky to get a seat over at the American Pavilion stalls and catch Whoopi Goldberg giving her rendition of the Christmas Story backed by a full choir. It was absolutely sensational and I’m looking forward to catching Neil Patrick Harris this time around!

5. Mickey’s Very Merry Christmas Party – Magic Kingdom 

Mickey’s Very Merry Christmas Party at Magic Kingdom is, hands down, the best Disney World event I have ever attended – highlight of my life right here! Holiday Wishes, my Minnie Santa hat, hot cocoa and cookies to all attendees, the Christmas parade and stage show, a frosted Cinderella’s Castle and OMG I could go on and on. Pure love right here. Do yourself a favour and get to it at least once in your life!!!

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CAN’T FRIGGIN WAIT!

Where will you be over Christmas?

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While living in Florida I was surrounded by many people my age taking part in the same internship as me at Walt Disney World in Orlando. Day in, day out I would encounter so many of these people suffering from homesickness; some so much so that they were prepared to give up this once in a life time opportunity, pull the plug and head back home.

Heading back home – now, I’m sure this is a nice short-term solution to your homesickness, but after seeing your family, friends and your beloved pet for a week, I’m sure you’re going to start questioning if giving it all up to come back to a sense of security and familiarity was really all worth it?

I understand that working at the happiest place on earth can exacerbate ones homesickness – I mean, you have to spend every working day of your internship seeing picture-perfect happy families being all super chummy with one another and no doubt, this can further ones desire to be reunited with those they care about, but I’m just not sure people think these things through clearly before making such decisions.

I, on the other hand, have fortunately never been faced with having to make such a decision.

You see, as horrible, selfish and cold-hearted as this may seem, I do not get homesick. Well, I mean, there was that one time on Christmas Eve where my then room mate had left the house without realising she’d clogged our toilet with her huge-ass poop and being totally oblivious to the clogging, I pulled the flush lever only to have her shit explode out of the toilet and all over our bathroom floor, but it was only for a split second that I felt saddened that I did not have my mum around to help me out of this shitty situation… no pun intended.

Sure, call me a bitch, but I just don’t miss people while I’m on the road, even if I am away from home for a long period of time. I sometimes feel guilty about it – you know, that I’m having so much fun doing my own thing and getting caught up in my amazing new life that I don’t, for a second, miss those I left behind. Oddly enough though, I do often miss squishing my cat while I’m away, although with a face like this, who wouldn’t?

If my family or friends here in Australia just so happen to be reading this and are thinking about how that text or email I sent them while away was signed off with an “I miss you” at the end, well yes, it was, no need to madly search through your inbox to prove otherwise. Yeah, I did type that to you, but I think I do this because it is more so something you say or are at least expected to say when you are away from home. It’s a form of reassurance to the person you are writing to to let them know you are still thinking about them despite the fact that you are currently chilling in a cabana, pool-side in 40C degree heat, with a cocktail in your hand having the most incredible time of your life. Let’s be honest here, in this situation, home and the people you left behind is the last thing on your mind.

It’s weird how this works though – I just can’t seem to get my head around it, well, maybe I can, hear me out. You see, there are those people on the other side of the world that I meet throughout my travels and whilst living abroad that, after returning home, I miss like crazy.

Case in point – the people I met and formed some of the best friendships of my life with were those I was working with while living in Florida. I miss this group of friends a lot, in fact, I don’t think there is a single day that goes by where I don’t think about the fun we had while together. When I tell these guys I miss them, I actually mean it.

So now I ask the question of why it is that I miss these guys when away from them but not my own family?

Do I miss them because of the experiences we had together? Am I left associating such experiences with fun and incredible memories and am therefore left craving more?

Do I not miss those back at home because I relate home to a bunch of same, old boringness that will always be there waiting for me when I come back?

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Tell me I’m not the only one that thinks this way?

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Last Friday I ventured up to Sydney on business but planned to stay the long weekend for a leisurely catch up with some mates. Those of you who are familiar with my blog or follow me on Twitter will by now know that I am not Sydney’s biggest fan – in fact, if it were not for work or the friends I have there, I’d probably steer well clear of that city. Having said this though, there is one other reason, as sad and pathetic as it may seem, that will lead me up there…

On Saturday morning we hit up The Sydney Cove Oyster Bar for breakfast with a view. My two fried eggs on a massive slice of sour dough toast, bacon and freshly squeezed orange juice went down a treat. The view from our table was nothing to complain about…

PADDINGTON MARKETS:

After brekkie we hit up the Paddington Markets which are open every Saturday from 10am. About a 15 minute stroll from Kings Cross, the Paddington Markets were bustling with colour and life and were fun to explore. There are gorgeous one-off clothing and jewelry designs, vintage products galore, fresh fruit and produce and of course, the irresistible, wafting aromas of street food being sizzled up in the many food stalls spread out around the area.

THE WINERY:

After Sunday brunch we went for an epic Sunday session at one of my fav drinking spots – The Winery in Surry Hills. At $15 a jug, you can’t really go wrong, especially when their Rosé Sangria and the Pimms tastes as amazing as it does. We started drinking at 12:30pm and finished at around 8pm. Within this time and between three people, 15 jugs were consumed. I don’t even remember eating dinner that night although it seems like we had fun…

That night after the weirdest pre-bed conversation ever with Nadia (sniffing necks, anyone?), I scored two hours of sleep before Nicole’s alarm went off at 1:45am. I managed to stay snuggled under my blankets until 2:30am. When it was time for me to get out of bed, I realised there was a great possibility that I may still be drunk. This was confirmed when I tried to sit on the toilet and almost fell off, not to mention the sudden movement of trying to sit on the toilet actually made me want to be sick. I popped two Nurofen and downed a glass of Berocca and we were out the hotel door at 3:30am and headed for Martin Place…

Standing at Martin Place at 3:40am after a public holiday Sunday night is quite the experience. Drunken randoms that have forgotten how to walk, skanky hoes with their asses hanging out of their barely-there skirts and ugly guys escorting drunken girls back to their hotel rooms makes for some great people watching. Our little group has ever so kindly been renamed ‘Circle f*ckers’ by two charming yet outrageously drunk gentlemen who decided to hang out for a while and take photos with us all. At least there was entertainment to help kill the next three hours…

SUNRISE:

Call me crazy but I am a HUGE Kelly Clarkson fan as evident here, here, here, here, here and here; pretty sure I’ve been this way since 2002. When I heard she was playing live for the Sunrise Concert Series on the Monday morning from 7:30am, with no shame, I begged my boss for the Monday off of work (I has the bestest boss ever *waves*) and coughed up the $60 to change my flight from Sunday night to Monday night. Yes, this is how much I love the KC. You’re probably reading this and rolling your eyes, but Jaime from Breakaway Backpacker knows exactly what I’m talking about!

Why’d we get there so early if she doesn’t come out until 7:30am? MUST HAS FRONT ROW! That’s why.

Without counting, I think I’ve seen the KC live at least 30 times now, both right around Australia and the USA. I have a huge amount of respect and love for those singers who don’t lip-sync or need a huge stage production with back up dancers and the lot to take away from the fact that they sound crap live. Kelly sounds phenomenal live – even better than on her records if that’s even possible. Today was no exception, she was in fine form and looked incredible – she’s shed a few pounds, found a stylist that finally decided to dress her right and her vocals were among the best I’ve ever heard from her! Everything about this Aussie promo tour to highlight the release of her new album, ‘Stronger’ in stores on October 21 has been close to perfect.

The best part? Totes got to meet her again – such a sweetheart!

Just another to add to the growing collection…

Fav performance of the day – Since U Been Gone
You can totes see us all in the front row!!!

♥

Have you ever travelled to see your favourite musician?

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This one word excites me yet somehow terrifies me all at the same time.

I’d only seen snow once before in my life when I was at Jungfraujoch in Switzerland. It was during my Euro trip back in 2008 and oddly enough, it was smack bang in the middle of summer. Reading back on my blog post now, I seemed pretty excited:

I did everything you would expect a six year old to do when taken to the snow; I jumped in it; I threw myself into a heap of it; I made snow balls and threw them at my mates when they least expected it; I made a snow angel and got terribly soaked while in the process and last, but not least, I built a snowman. 

Everything except skiing…

MT. HOTHAM:

I was heading to Mt. Hotham with my work crew; it was a rewarding weekend away after the crazy last few weeks we’d had in the office after our Blogopolis conference. It was also a time to get some team bonding under our belts and by team bonding, I clearly mean boozing. The cars had been packed with food, warm clothing and most importantly, bottle upon bottle of wine, vodka, rum and beer.

Mt. Hotham is roughly a five hour drive out of Melbourne and located in the north-eastern part of Victoria. Highlights of our road trip included an early morning stop at Maccas for breakfast, our first view of snow which left me EEEEEE’ing when we stopped at the bottom of the mountain to pick up our gear (photo below) and Kruppy’s gas light flashing in his car when we were only half way up the mountain and in need of some major acceleration with no gas stations anywhere in sight!

THE CHALET:

We were lucky enough to be staying right up on the slopes in a 13-person chalet that goes by the name of Caravaggio – please refrain from any dirty thoughts you may be having. The place was beautiful and with four bedrooms, three bathrooms and a spa, who can complain? The views from our balcony were to die for and I called dibs on one of the bottom bunks – pure bliss. The day we got in, visibility was excellent which meant our view of the mountains was spectacular!

After a few beers Holly, Steph and myself head outside to make a snowman. Sadly he never got finished and we just left him with an ass. I hope this didn’t mortify innocent little children as they passed by. The rest of the evening was spent with good company, a home cooked dinner and of course, more beer, because, let’s be honest, there can never be enough beer.

THE SKI LESSON:

Everyones first time can be a little painful, even a little messy. There’s that small possibility that you’ll end up soaking wet, ass up and covered in white stuff. There’s also a strong chance that you’ll end up extremely sore the next day – aches from muscles you never knew you even had. It’s important you use protection – something I probably should have considered before I went out and got myself knocked up. A helmet and knee pads probably would have been wise.

A few of us were booked in to take ski lessons the next morning. It just so happened to start snowing over night so although we had fresh snow, visibility wasn’t the greatest. I’d never skied a day in my life but thought it would be fun – oh how wrong I was. I don’t remember our ski instructors name so for the purpose of this blog entry, let’s name him Hans.

Hans seemed like a nice bloke, about 6ft in height with gentle eyes and a trusting smile. He taught us the basics in skiing but most importantly, he taught us how to snow plough. I trusted Hans when he said a snow plough would bring me to a stop when skiing down a slope. I also trusted Hans when he told me I had been doing a great job during the lesson and that he thought I was ready to hit the beginners slope. Little did I know, Hans was lying – his innocent, trusting smile and those gentle eyes had given me a false feeling of comfort and reassurance – all utter bullshit.

1. Kruppy and I, both eager and enthused, jump onto the chair lift and gear up for our first slope. While on the chair lift we marvel at how easy it would be to fall out of our seat and plunge to our deaths down the mountain. It is here where we realise that the chair lift is not like a ride at an amusement park and that the workers at the start do not push the safety harness over your head for you. I slightly panic realising how horrible this could have been if Kruppy didn’t realise we had to swing the safety barrier over ourselves. Sigh of relief.

2. I knew I had to jump off the chair lift when we were nearing the end, only I had no idea how perfectly timed it all had to be. I left it a few seconds too late and before I knew it, I was circling back around to the start and the lady was screaming at me because they had to stop the chair lift. I fail at life.

3. The beginners slope looked awfully steep but Hans told me I was ready, he had faith in me and I trusted his bullshit gentle eyes and trusting smile. Off I went. The speeds I was hitting were way too fast for my liking. I commenced snow plough position. Snow plough failed me. While I went ass over head in a rage of fury, I pictured Hans’ trusting smile. Asshole.

4. I don’t like failure or defeat so I get back up and give it another shot, maybe I just got the snow plough wrong. Again, insanely fast speeds that I can not control. Snow plough fails me. I pray there is no one in my path, especially a child because I’m pretty sure I’d total them completely if we crossed paths. Again, ass up in the air, pretty sure I flipped and boom; I smash my head hard on the snow, my poles fly out of my hands and slide metres down ahead of me and although Hans told me my boots would unattach themselves from my skis if this happened, they didn’t. As I sat up helplessly in the snow, my skis and boots weight my legs down and twisted them inwards until my toes were horizontally facing inward, flat against the snow. Ouch. I really would have liked to shove my pole up Hans’ ass right about now.

In case  you’re wondering what it looks like when a bunch of people are skiing directly towards you while you lay helplessly on the ground, here’s a picture…

My first slope was my last and I never want to ski again.

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Got any shocking ski experiences to share?

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]]> http://www.live-travel-blog.com/2011/09/15/beer-snowmen-are-enough-for-me/feed/ 15 http://www.live-travel-blog.com/2011/09/08/coffee-from-a-cats-butt/ http://www.live-travel-blog.com/2011/09/08/coffee-from-a-cats-butt/#comments Thu, 08 Sep 2011 02:02:23 +0000 Lynda http://www.live-travel-blog.com/?p=7442 Hating coffee is a tough gig when you live in a city renowned for making possibly the best coffee in the world.

I am surrounded by coffee snobs on a daily basis. “Blah, blah, blah, the barista burned my milk,” or “Wahhh, my coffee is too hot and tastes funny;” these are just some of the complaints I have to put up with. Since I don’t drink the stuff I’m not really one to talk, but from what I gather, Melburnians are spoiled for choice when it comes to their coffee; you kind of need an outsiders opinion to give some truth to this though.

Despite not liking the stuff, when I was told there was a coffee available in the Philippines that was pooped out of a cats butt and among the most valuable coffee in the world, who was I to resist? Although coffee is one of life’s little luxuries for most, for me, it is just plain shitty, and coffee pooped out of a cats ass is pure testament to my claim.

THE ANIMAL

Kopi Luwak or Civet Coffee as referred to by many comes from the Asian Palm Civet. These are small, nocturnal, tree-dwelling mammals  which can be found in most parts of Southeast Asia. The civets’ staple diet is made up of sugar palm fruit and coffee cherries which they consume in large quantities but it is only the fleshy pulp part of the coffee cherry that the animal is able to digest; the coffee bean itself ferments in its digestive system. The civet then poops the coffee beans out and they are collected, washed, dried, lightly roasted and brewed.

THE COFFEE

Unfortunately we weren’t able to order individual cups of coffee so we purchased a small bag of Kopi Luwak for roughly $23 AUD from Josefino’s; a coffee stall we found in Tagaytay. The staff were nice enough to seal up the bag for us so we could get it back through Australian customs hassle free. Josefino’s had the most gorgeous balcony view and was a really nice, open-aired place to kick back and enjoy our coffee.

Despite being a coffee hater, I have sampled coffee several times before. Although noticeably stronger in taste, the civet coffee seemed to be less bitter in taste than your regular coffee. Maybe it’s just my coffee-neglected tastebuds talking but other than the distinctly strong taste I couldn’t detect any other major differences nor could I figure out why this coffee is so expensive and highly sought after – it still taste like crap (no pun intended).

Here’s a video of my manager and I tasting civet coffee at Josefino’s in Tagaytay, Philippines.

What’s the first thing that pops into your head when you read those two words?

Obviously the foods associated with this will differ depending on where in the world you are from, but for me, coming from a westernized culture, street food refers to hot dogs, kebabs and even hot jam donuts.

This view was very quickly tainted upon introduction to two Filipino street delicacies a few weeks back while in Manila. Let’s take a look at them, shall we?

ISAW:

In short, isaw is barbecued chicken or pig intestines skewered on a stick, in this instance, they were from a chicken. The intestines are rinsed, turned inside out and cleaned again with this whole process being repeated several times. Although a thorough cleaning process in ensued, Prof. Ma. Patricia V. Avanza, Ph.D. of the Food Science and Nutrition Department of the UP College of Home Economics in Diliman, Quezon City reveals that “there are those street vendors who do it well, but there are those who don’t.” That “bitter” taste that greets your mouth when you bite into the barbecued chicken intestines can be identified as “fecal matter” says Prof. Avanza.

I don’t know about you, but that’s enough to make me want to throw up a little in my mouth. My stomach just wasn’t built for this kind of thing.

Here’s a video of my manager sampling isaw for the very first time at Mercato Centrale at Fort Bonifacio.

BALUT:

Balut is the kind of thing you see only in nightmares, the type where you wake up and try to scream for help only you’re out of breath and panting for air. It’s something that can make even the most rugged and manliest of men squirm and yelp like a small dog as evident in the video below.

But why?

Well, there’s no easy way to put this, but this delicacy is a fertilized boiled duck egg. That’s right, fertilized. This means that inside each egg is the fetus of a baby duck (typically anywhere between seventeen to twenty days in gestation) that has been boiled alive.

Please note that the images and video below are not for the faint-hearted.

Filipinos believe the snack to be an aphrodisiac by giving you “strong knees” to make you outwit, outplay and outlast anyone in the bedroom. I’m not sure how true that claim is but from observation I can say that…

1. The thought of eating a boiled baby duck makes me go weak at the knees,  not strong
2. The thought of eating a boiled baby duck does not, in the slightest of ways, make me want to have sex

A tiny crack is placed in the shell and the broth that surrounds the duck is sipped from the egg before the shell is peeled off. Once the shell is removed in its entirety, both the yolk and duck may be consumed. A sprinkle of salt or chili mixture can be added to the balut to act as a seasoning.

Again, there was no way I was going to give this bad boy a shot, especially after seeing that our baby ducks had already started growing feathers on them! Again, I gladly let my manager take the reigns and represent – his reaction was priceless! If you listen carefully enough you can hear me dry retching in the background.

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Have you ever eaten balut or isaw? Share your experience below…

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Yeah, I did spend 14 months of 2009-2010 living it up in sunny Florida and interning at the happiest place on earth; Walt Disney World.

And yep, after graduating in 2008 I spent three months travelling around Europe.

Sure, I’ve traveled back and forth between Australia and the USA six times within the last few years.

And yes, it’s true that this year alone, I’ve managed to travel not only within Australia but also to the USA, Mexico, Malaysia, the Philippines and have just booked myself in for a return trip to the USA in December through January, all while holding down a full time job here in Melbourne…

I love to travel; there’s no doubt about it. Travelling is addictive – it’s like a drug and if I don’t get my hit, I start to get edgy. I hate staying put, I really do. If I remain in Melbourne for longer than seven months at a time, I feel suffocated; I just need to go somewhere, anywhere but here. I love the thrill; the opportunity to be anyone I want to be. Travelling definitely is my passion.

At the same time though, it is a curse.

My friends don’t understand this curse.

“You’re so lucky that you get to travel so much…”

“Oh, I wish I had your life…”

“Man, I’d trade everything to do what you’re doing.”

Now, don’t get me wrong, I know how lucky and blessed I am to experience what I have over the last few years. It’s just that lately though, I have been questioning why I continue to bring this upon myself. It’s almost as though I need some sort of reassurance; something or someone to tell me that one day it will just all come together and make sense.

Here’s what I mean…

FRIENDS:

There was a time not too many years ago where I felt secure within my friendship circle. I had a rather large group of friends here that I’d regularly hang out with – it was fun. Then I started travelling. I met the most amazing people from all corners of the globe and I am proud to call some of them my best friends. After returning back to Australia I felt a sense of disconnect. My circle of friends here had diminished drastically, so much so that I only need one hand to list all the friends here that I have left to count on. I guess we just drifted, went down different life paths and matured. Sometimes I think that maybe I was gone for so long that they just got use to not having me around and upon return, it just stuck that way.

It’s funny that I feel closest with the friends that are furthest away; the kind that require me jumping onto a plane to go and visit. I have Facebook, Skype, Twitter and iPhone instant messaging apps to thank for helping me feel so connected with them but at the same time, these will never replace actually being able to hang out with them in person. A vast majority of my friends reside in the USA and I miss them dearly each and every day.

If I didn’t travel or live abroad – I wouldn’t have to spend each day missing these guys but at the same time, I would never have known that such amazing people exist.

LOVE: 

Yep, stupid me made the mistake of falling for someone 15,600km away. Worst decision of my life, granted I didn’t really have any control over it. I couldn’t just leave it though, could I? Nooooo. Being the moron that I am, I just had to go back and see if said person felt the same way knowing that even if he did, I’d still have to return back home to my job two weeks later so ultimately I’d be back at square one; depressed, lonely and wishing I never had to come home.

Turns out he did. Really sucks not being able to do anything about it. The Pacific Ocean is a bitch, but then again, so are America’s residency and visa laws.

So, friends, do you really want to spend every day of your life missing and wasting tears over someone who lives on the opposite end of the world not knowing when you’d ever get to see them again? Yeah, didn’t think so.

WHERE’S HOME?

Alright Captain Obvious, yes, it’s Australia. If I didn’t get to travel the way I do, I’d never know any better but I do believe that home is where the heart is and my heart is definitely not here in Australia. Knowing I can’t be where I want to because of some stupid law that makes it almost impossible to move to my home away from home kills me each and every day.

The next time you tell me how envious you are of my life stop and think about all the emotional baggage that comes with it and then tell me if you’d still like to trade places.

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<end rant>

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Tell me I’m not the only one who feels this way?

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1) It’s not that I don’t like my manager, but four straight weekends with him leaves one asking if this is really necessary? Blogopolis, a work ski trip and now this on top of our regular work hours coupled with the almost certain possibility that he’ll throw in some terrible dad jokes along the way leaves me wondering if my boss’ real plan is for the manager and I to become BFF. Can you sense my enthusiasm?

2) *birds churp*

As much as I love to travel and discover new cities, I’d never really given any thought to visiting Manila. I knew nothing about the culture, the people or the sights so no bells went off in my head when mention of it was thrown at me.

PHILIPPINE AIRLINES FLIGHT: MELBOURNE > SYDNEY > MANILA

I was by no means prepared for this flight. As I enter the plane and walk through Business Class I see no TV screens on the backs of each seat; this is quite standard with Business as each seat has an individual screen that folds down into the arm rest so I think nothing of it and proceed down to economy…

It is not until I reach the economy section that my worst long-haul flight nightmare becomes a reality – no personal entertainment unit! It gets worse, oh yes… there is only one TV per every 10-15 rows… simultaneous movie viewings, AHHHHHH! I die a little on the inside.

After flying United Airlines to the USA back in 2006 I swore to never again board a long-haul flight that did not contain a personal entertainment unit. As diva-ish as this sounds, it is 2011… get with the times, people!

I have my laptop with me, but no movies. I also have my iPod with me, but let’s be honest here, there is only so much solitaire you can play before you begin to go insane. It was also just my luck that I had a creeper dude sitting beside me that insisted on following me around Sydney Airport during the hour-long layover. Oh, and to top it off, this flight was inundated with screaming babies… my absolute favourite!

It wasn’t all bad, though. Philippine Airlines has some fantastic service – their flight attendants were well mannered and always happy to be of service, even when the lady sitting in front of me on the flight back filled three barf bags with vomit within a matter of seconds – they smiled and held them for her! They are also incredibly fast on Twitter, even if you haven’t directly @ mentioned them which ia always a win in my books…

ASTORIA PLAZA SUITES – PASIG CITY, PHILIPPINES 

Located in the Ortigas Business District of Pasig City, the Astoria Plaza couples as both a hotel and residential apartments. My manager and I stayed in a two bedroom suite on the 12th floor which was quite spacious and well located. I arrive first so it comes without question that I take the bedroom with the bathroom in it. The other bedroom also has its own bathroom, just not inside the room.

We have a rather large self-contained kitchen area and a huge living/study area. There are three TV’s in the apartment, each of which contain a plethora of cable TV channels and a funky brown shag rug sprawled out across the living room floor. Our rooms are serviced daily and re-stocked with bottled water at no cost.

Included in our stay is a daily breakfast buffet at Cafe Astoria which is situated on the ground level of the hotel. The breakfast selection varies every morning and ranges from bacon, beef, chicken, fish and rice with an array of pastries, breads, fresh fruit, juices, cereal and coffee/tea. Breakfast would not be complete without that of our amazing omelette maker which I took the liberty of naming, Omelette Dude. He is too cute – don’t you just want to squeeze his cheeks!?!

Not sure I can adjust to eating rice, chicken and beef for breakfast so for the mean time, I’ll stick to my omelette dude and some freshly sliced pineapple!

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