The Stress Chronicles

Arundel Castle - Travelling with a Tudor Expert

2016-06-11T23:25:00.000+01:00

So Faye arrived from Australia on Tuesday, and we have already done a crazy amount of sightseeing. But by far and away my favorite place we have been to so far has been Arundel Castle, home to the Dukes of Norfolk.
For those of you that don't know, Faye is the biggest Tudor history buff around. She is the person you want on your team at the local pub trivia night. Arundel Castle has a loose connection to the Tudors as being the main residence of the Dukes of Norfolk, who are related to both Anne Boleyn and Catherine Howard (two of Henry VIII's wives).

It is definitely worth noting that these are the two wives that also had their heads loped off for adultery. #dontpissofftheking Funnily enough there was no mention of either Anne or Catherine in the castle, despite the third Duke of Norfolk being instrumental in getting Anne, and then Catherine, on the throne. Apparently when Catherine Howard was being tried for adultery, the Duke of Norfolk wrote a letter to the King throwing his niece under the bus (or horse?). I guess in the world of politics, nothing much has changed.

Arundel Castle is one of the motte and bailey style castles that William the Conqueror established when he invaded England. As with a number of castles in the south it has ties to Empress Matilda and the Civil War battles. My phone went flat halfway through the day because I had to keep wikipeding stuff, I had so many questions.

Apart from the castle, the village of Arundel is one of the most picturesque villages I have been to so far, and it sits on the river Arun. Faye and I treated ourselves to a pub meal and caught a very delayed train home. Even if you aren't crazy for history, Arundel is worth the visit just to stroll around the village and soak up the incredible grounds, and is probably one of the most accessible castles near London, but with none of the crowds that you get at Windsor Castle.

Anyway, Faye and I were pretty much in our element for the entire day nerding it up, and the weather was perfect. As you all know, I am made keen for gardens, and the Arundel Castle gardens did not disappoint. Spring and summer are just another world in the UK. I don't know how I am going to survive winter after this!!!

Structure and Substance

2016-05-17T16:10:00.000+01:00

Here are some photos from the last week of trips around London. Highlights include a climb up St Paul's Cathedral, Spitalfield Markets and a hike in the south up Leith Hill.

Let's just say that for someone who is terrified of heights, I am impressed with myself for making it up to the very top of St Paul's, particularly given that the final climb required going up a very narrow wrought iron staircase.

It was antique day at Spitalfield Markets, and I found a fantastic old hiking map from 1946. I will have to get it frame at some point in the future. The map included Leith Hill which I then hiked on the following Saturday with about 15 other people from a Meetup group online.

The hike ended up being a fantastic day out, despite the forecast promising rain, there wasn't a drop in sight. It was all capped off by a pint at a local pub and a rather sleepy train ride home. Somehow I feel this can't really get anymore British.

xx

Nic

For Mum

2016-05-08T13:11:00.000+01:00

To Mum on Mother's Day,

I haven't been apart from you on Mother's Day since 2008. This year we are thousands of kilometres apart (16,516km to be precise), and I wish I could be back in Brisbane to tell you this in person. But instead we will Skype, and hug the screens in front of us and try to bridge the oceans between us. So I thought I would put down some words to tell you how much I love, adore, appreciate and god damn miss you!

Firstly, Happy Mother's Day. I hope you have opened the card I left behind. In addition to those words I just wanted to say:

a) I love your laugh. I realise that I can hear it over Skype, but it is such a wonderful whole body laugh that isn't the same over the internet. Make sure there is lots of laughter on Mother's Day.

b) I hope you know that you are such a wonderful, inspirational person. Through all the shitty and tough times, you constantly look ahead. Not that you are unnervingly positive, just that you are so resilient and tough. I look at you and you give me the balls (or maybe the boobs?) to keep going in the tough times.

c) I love your sense of adventure, and it is something that I am trying to adopt over here. That sense that everything is interesting, and every person's story is worth asking and listening to.

d) I miss your Jo Malone perfume. I walked through Harrod's the other day and caught a fleeting trail of the perfume and wished that I could have hugged you. (I don't know if this is creepy or not).

e) I miss family lunches, and the whole experience that you create. From everyone getting in and cooking together, to Dad commentating from his study. I wish I could be there with everyone on your special day, but I hope you know that I am there in thought.

I hope you don't mind, but I have collected some pictures I love of you below. They make me smile so much.

Love you and HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!

Brighton Beach - Four seasons in one day.

2016-05-06T18:38:00.000+01:00

So it was the May Day Bank Holiday last weekend in the UK, so I took advantage of the good weather and choofed off down to Brighton with Georgie.

As the job hunt is continuing, I am on the look out for tourist attractions that are reasonably priced. I may have failed the brief with Brighton, but it was totally worth the extra pennies.

I have only been to Brighton once before, back in 2008 when Georgie and I travelled around Europe after my Copenhagen exchange. So it was lovely to go back and visit a place that I so heavily associate with the halcyon days of university exchange.

Georgie did not have such fond memories of Brighton, it being the location of her worst ever sunburn... like EVER! I may have been a bit smug this time, having remarked to her on the train down to Brighton that I had packed 50+ sunscreen just for her. Aren't I just the best friend ever!

Last time we went to Brighton, it must have been a weekday. We only figured this out upon returning, because upon alighting at the station, we were greeted by a lovely gentleman who was part of the local tourist board. He suggested that we check out the laneways in Brighton, as the markets were open today. They definitely were not open when we were there last time, and what a difference it made to the liveliness of the town.

After a short sunbake on the beach, I succumbed to Georgie's pleas to ride the ferris wheel (I nearly threw up on the first rotation). We then walked out on to the pier where I finally got to try whelks (some form of sea snail thing). Turns out I should have waited till I got OFF the pier as they were £2 cheaper everywhere else. Further up the pier Georgie got to swoon at the pub dedicated to Horatio Hornblower. She didn't appreciate my observation that it sounded more like a male strip joint.

From there we made our way back to the beach for a tipple, however we were forced to take refuge under some rather flimsy umbrellas (you would think the English would be better prepared!) as an afternoon storm rolled through. After wetting our whistle, we strolled up the hill to the laneways to find a pub for dinner. After getting slightly sidetracked by working our way through a bottle of rose, I enjoyed a seafood bisque which must have been nice, because I have absolutely no recollection of what Georgie ordered.

From there we staggered back on to the train (rather late at night by this stage) and slept most of the way back to London.

It is funny, but back in 2008, I remember smugly thinking that Brighton had nothing on any Australian beach. I mean, pebbles... really! But with the addition of the wonderful market laneway scene, combined with the (quite wonderful) tat and glitter of the pier, I suddenly get what the British seaside is about. It is about a day out of the house, where the sun might not actually be that strong, but reflected off the water it is suddenly somehow magnified and intensified. It is about icecream, and whelks and drinks by the water. It is about rollercoasters, and bunting flags and being overcharged for absolutely ANYTHING sold on the pier.

It most certainly isn't about going for a swim, or surfing or snorkelling. It isn't (usually) about sand or kite surfing. But other places have that, so why bother to compete. Brighton knows itself, and does what it does very well. And I approve wholeheartedly!

Bloomin' beautiful Banstead bluebells

2016-04-26T20:43:00.002+01:00

I once read an article by Peter Cundall from Gardening Australia about how he once stumbled on a field of bluebells, and how the experience of lying in a field of bluebells had the most profound impact on him. Unfortunately I can't seem to find at the article anywhere, despite the internet being my answer to every question. Nevertheless, ever since reading that article, I have always wanted to experience a field of bluebells in moody and dappled British sunlight.

Well I finally got to tick bluebells off the bucket list, given that I serendipitously managed to arrive into London smack bang in the middle of bluebells season.

Having found a group of people on Meetup who were travelling down to Banstead Wood to see the bluebells, I tagged along. Banstead ended up being relatively close to Wimbledon (but still took about an hour and a half to get via public transport) and was more than I could have hoped for.

Despite raining the night before, there was no sign of rain. It did however, make for some awesome puddles, which I trampled through. There is proof in some of the pictures below, check out the state of my boots!

The bluebells only last about three weeks, so I was so lucky to get to see them. After all the amazing rhododendrons in Nepal, I didn't think I could be impressed with a floral display ever again. Turns out I was wrong, cause the bluebells were bloomin' beautiful.

xx

N

Look Mum - Polyanthus just growing wild and everything!

Annapurna Part III – The Descent

2016-04-22T14:42:00.000+01:00

We succeeded in making it to Annapurna Base Camp! I kept thinking back to Robert MacFarlane’s The Old Ways and how he spoke about how the act of circumnavigating a mountain versus climbing a mountain is completely different.

I very much got this sense from walking to ABC. Our group were not climbers we were trekkers, and none of us had the ego to think that we could possibly climb Annapurna I. It takes a special person to have the skills, smarts and machismo to be able to summit a +8000m mountain. Instead, I feel like our group went as an act of pilgrimage to the mountains to marvel at the sheer wonder of the Himalayas. It is appropriate that the ring of mountains surrounding ABC are called the Annapurna Sanctuary as there is sense that you are in nature’s church.

After a morning of taking a ridiculous amount of pictures (Dad has already complained about the length of the last blog post) we started our climb down. Gwyn and Tom in a more unique way than everyone else (pictures below).

The pace picked up on the climb down, particularly after passing MBC as we returned to more normal altitude levels. We made it all the way back to Bamboo passing through Himalaya Hotel for lunch. It amazing us that we were able to achieve in one morning of descent what took us the better part of a day to ascend.

Stopping at Bamboo, the bamboo shoot curry was as good a promised for dinner. However, I had my first serious packing mishap, with my muscle cream exploding throughout my bad. While it could have been worse (Tom and Mo had tomato sauce explode through theirs) that was not my first response upon opening my backpack.

I will plead mea culpa here, as Maski had warned us that the porters have to bind the packs really tight in order to strap TWO packs together. However, I had become complacent and hadn’t packed my cream in it’s normal plastic bag.

At least everything didn’t smell like sweat any more…

After leaving Bamboo, we walked back to Chhomrong for lunch. We also met up with Em and Kelly and it was great to see them again. There had been an element of the team being left behind when Em had decided to stay in Chhomrong due to illness.

From Chhomrong we pushed on to Jinhu Danda, where the promise of hot springs called out like a siren’s song. Well boy did Jinhu Danda put on a show for us on our arrival. The weather was good for the entire day, meaning that we didn’t have to go to the springs in the rain, and the teahouse was the most beautiful place we stayed during our entire trek.

At this point I might note that I think the general opinion of everyone was that once we made it to Base Camp the trek was basically over. When you are mentally preparing for the push up to ABC it is hard not to see everything else as insignificant. However, if there is one piece of advice I can give in walking the Annapurna Sanctuary, it is not to see ABC as the destination. Not only does it make it harder to keep walking when you realise you still have four more days of walking after ABC, but it undersells the beauty of the walk towards the end of the trek.

After leaving Jinhu Danda I ditched my poles, and it was liberating. Don’t get me wrong, I am absolutely a proponent of trekking poles and I am convinced that they saved my knee from a repeat of the Oxfam 100km trek, but once the steps vanished and we were back on paths it was so nice to be able to stretch my legs out and pick up the pace. The second last day of the trek flew by, and the weather was absolutely brilliant again. Arriving in to Pothana I felt like I wanted the trek to just keep going. We were in a rhythm and I was used to the dirt and pace of the trek now, and it was all slowly coming to an end.

Following more card games on the terrace, and some celebratory beers, it was a relatively early night. The next day we only had a short 2 hour walk to Phedi and we were officially finished.

Almost two weeks after arriving in to London, and amongst the hubbub of settling in to my new digs, I still have vivid flashbacks to the trek. I met some of the most wonderful people in Nepal and for my first trek at altitude I couldn’t have asked for better guides that Maski, Sabin and Ali. I would absolutely, hand on heart recommend G Adventures if you are thinking of doing a trek in Nepal. If you are looking for a tour company that combines trekking expertise with locals who are proud of their country and willing to explain the nuances of Nepalese customs, then look no further.

Beyond that, this pretty much wraps up the Nepal blogs (I can hear your sigh of relief). Apologies that this has been slightly drawn out, but I wanted to do this trek justice, because trekking in the Himalayas was absolutely the best decision I have ever made. So hurry up and get your arse to Nepal. LIKE NOW!

धन्यवाद (dhanyabad - thank you) for making it this far, and if you have any questions, please leave it in the comments below.

Annapurna Sanctuary Part II - Poon Hill to Annapurna Base Camp

2016-04-20T13:24:00.000+01:00

Following the climb to Poon Hill, everything started to turn a bit more serious with Base Camp the next hurdle that we had to climb.

This was further complicated by the fact that quite a few in the group has started to experience stomach problems, something that our guide Maski has assured us was out of the ordinary. A mistype from Sarah on Instagram saw Poon Hill rechristened as Poo Hill. Never has the poop emoji been more appropriate.

POO EMOJI HERE

After the club down Poon Hill, we returned to Ghorepani for breakfast. Plain toast with honey became my staple on the trip, with Sabin able to determine who had what just by the order at the end. It definitely got boring, but was all that my stomach was able to cope with at that point.

The climb out of Ghorepani was really steep, and some of the others in the group who had more recently succumbed to Nepalese belly definitely struggled. However, we had finally entered the rhododendron forests. I think more than anything the group was glad, just because I finally shut up about the bloody rhododendrons.

Once the initial climb was over we walked along a ridge for a couple of hours, enjoying the 'mountain flat' and the chance to catch our breath. Walking through the wooded section was a lot colder, with my first real taste of what I was in for with the cold. But the colder environment meant that there was moss on every tree trunk, with prayer flags waving in the background and I was pretty much in botanical heaven.

Lunch was toast again. Hmpf.

I was very slow on the downhills, with the poles slowing me down but ensuring that my knee didn't go before I had made it to basecamp. We arrived into Tadapani late in the afternoon and spent a long night playing cards. At about 11pm(ish) I noticed that one of the little boys from the teahouse (who I had thought was just really interested in the card game) was actually hanging around so that he could go to sleep in the warm common room. Boy did I feel guilty.

After leaving Tadapani the next morning, our destination for the day was Chhomrong, a large village where we would be able to stock up on supplies that were running low (read toilet paper). The climb to Chhomrong had plenty of ups and downs, and I annoyingly cut my finger on a blade of rye grass, which hurt like all buggery. One upsides of day four was that my appetite was returning, and Maski has said that Chhomrong was known for its pizzas. Holla!!! After too many days of toast, the pizza was a good as promised.

We arrived in to Chhomrong relatively early in the day, which allowed a huge chunk of personal time to either wander down to the village 'supermarket' or do washing. Considering that the supermarket was 30min walk one way (CBF) I decided to do washing. There was an actual washing machine that actually worked at the teahouse, and given that everything in bought in on donkeys I still can't figure out how it got there.

The next day was from Chhomrong to Himalaya Hotel (yes that is the name of the village). We stopped off at Bamboo (also the name of a village) where we had lunch. Gwyn had the most amazing looking bamboo shoot curry, which I noted down to have on the descent.

After arriving in to Himalaya Hotel and the sun started to go down, the temperature plummeted. Like nose-dived. As the teahouse was above the tree line, there were no wood heaters in the common room to get warm, so instead the locals employ a rather genius solution.

They staple blankets around the tables in the common room and place open flamed gas heaters under the tables. At 150 rupees a head ($1.50AUD) it's totally worth it until you notice your socks are slightly singed. But at least it meant all our wet clothes were dry for the next morning, as this was the big climb up to Annapurna Base Camp (ABC) via Machapuchare Base Camp (MBC) for lunch.

At MBC I had something for lunch which has been completely lost to me, as it was overshadowed by the cutest Japanese couple eating next to us. They must have been in their 60s at a minimum and had packed a number of amazing looking condiments to spice up the bland food that you get the higher up you go. At one point the old gentleman had chilli in his beard and his wife leant over and brush it away with a smile on her face. I wish I wasn't so exhausted at that point that I could have snapped a picture. Alas, they will just have to be recorded here in words.

After MBC we had one final climb to get to ABC. However, four weeks prior there had been an avalanche that had stopped just short of the lodge at MBC. Thankfully no one was killed (even though it happened during the day) and now it meant we got to walk over the actual avalanche. ON ACTUAL SNOW! #notinkansasanymore

By this stage everyone's pace had dropped to cope with the altitude. But after 2 hours we made it to the marker of ABC. Just to make it that little bit harder, the lodge sits about 500m up from the marker, meaning that even after you have taken all the happy snaps, you still have to walk that last little bit to get to somewhere warm.

Having changed into ALL of my warm clothes and retreated to the heat of the common room, a hail storm decided to hit base camp. However, being snug and warm inside as the storm raged outside with everyone basking in the glow of having made it to base camp remains a lasting memory. Pizza and soup for dinner and then to bed given we had a 5am photocall for sunrise pictures around base camp.

Even now I still can't believe that I actually made it to base camp. But I would do it all again in a heartbeat.

Next up in this series is the descent down the Annapurna Sanctuary walk. Because if you go up, you have to come down.

KATIE A PIKA!!!!!

I SPY WITH MY LITTLE EYE SOMETHING BEGINNING WITH 'M'

DANE WE NEED TO DISCUSS NEPALESE BRIDGE DESIGN STAT!

ANOTHER PIKA KATIE - CAN YOU SEE IT?

Mo's milk jug - yes that was all full of warm milk... Milk was a BAD choice!

Wanderlust - books that will make you want to travel

2016-04-15T07:00:00.000+01:00

My preparation for moving to the UK via my Nepal trip was a long time in the planning. One of the things that I did throughout the planning stage was read tons of books to get me in the travel mood and keep up the excitement levels. It can be hard planning a massive trip over many months and maintaining motivation, so below are some of my recommendations for travelbug books.

I would love to hear about your favourite wanderlust books, so please leave a comment in the comments section below with your recommendations.

1. The Old Ways by Robert McFarlane

I can't recommend this book more highly. I read this during the winter of 2015 in Brisbane, and I think it was the book that tipped me over into travelling to Nepal.

Robert McFarlane is an academic at Oxford University, so when I first picked up the book I was anticipating a dry tome on the act of walking. Instead, I was instantly transported. Don't mistake this book for a treatise on walking, there are hilarious observations littered throughout the book.

The premise of the book is a focus on paths that have been walked since time immemorial, with the opening of the book starting with the Ickneild Way through southern England from Norfolk to Wiltshire.

However, while the book starts in England there is are diverse references to the act of walking across cultures. The Indigenous Australians get a mention with respect to navigation through songlines, while McFarlane travels to areas as diverse as Spain and Tibet.

There is also a focus on contested land, with Scotland, Tibet and Palestine all getting a chapter.

By far and away my favourite section of the book is the chapter on Minya Konka in Tibet. The chapter discusses the particular Tibetan Buddist practice of kora, an act of pilgrimage which circumambulates (in a clockwise direction) the holy site.

McFarlane notes a particularly extreme form of the kora undertaken around Minya Konka where the pilgrim will "bend, kneel, lie face down, mark the earth with the fingers, rise, pray, shuffle forwards to the finger-marks, bend, kneel... for thirty-two miles of rough rocky path."

Having recently returned from walking the Annapurna Sanctuary, I was left breathless (not the altitude I promise) at the thought of walking over 52km in this manner. I even made sure that I had this book downloaded on to my Kindle so that I was able to read it throughout the trek. Words can't describe reading sections about the Himalayas as I was standing in the mountains surrounded by flowering rhododendrons.

So if you are thinking about a long-haul trek and are in some need of travel inspiration, you NEED to read this book... like now!

2. The road to Little Dribbling by Bill Bryson

In making the decision to move to the UK, I had read Bill Bryson's classic Notes from a Small Island. While it was a wonderful wander around the UK, the book had become dated making it not the most useful for planning my trip. So when it was announced that Bryson was releasing a new travel book (20 years since he wrote Notes from a Small Island) and that it was going to be another look at the UK, I was ecstatic.

Simply put, The road to Little Dribbling did not disappoint. I think Bryson is one of the best travel writers out there, and I am not the only one who thinks so given his long running success in this genre. Whereas the first book had been written in preparation for his imminent departure to the United States, this book was written just as Bryson had committed to becoming a citizen of the UK. And as such, there is a definite difference in the tone of the book. Less melancholy and more biting. You get the sense that he has become, to a large extent, one of the locals.

In his previous book, Bryson had travelled from the southern most point of the UK to the northern most tip. In The road to Little Dribbling, Bryson instead decides that he will travel the longest distance possible in the UK, from Bognor Regis to Cape Wrath along what he deems the 'Bryson line'.

How could you go past a book that, rather than lecture you about the historic value of the church of Saint McSaintyface, bla bla bla *yawn* read it all before, instead takes joy in exploring a town called Bognor Regis! Even towns that get an absolutely lashing by Bryson should be grateful, as his biting wit made me want to explore even the shittiest towns mentioned here.

If your type of travelling isn't to explore only the best of a country, but to peel back the layers and experience a country at its worst, the Bryson line methodology is a sound one. Rather than hop, skip and jumping over the seedier elements of a country, The road to Little Dribbling forces the reader to challenge the way they think about travel. Do you want to be the tourist that Miss Lavish so despises with their nose in the Baedeker (read Lonely Planet Guide) or are you up for getting your feet dirty?

I for one, know what my answer is.

3. Room with a View by E.M Forster

This isn't your modern travel narrative. I have read the more modern tales of women travelling abroad, and if you are looking for something directly relatable there are others I can highly recommend. Nevertheless whilst written in 1908, E.M Forster's characterisation of women is incredibly modern. George Emerson notes to Lucy (somewhat better written in the movie I must admit) that "this desire to govern a woman -- it lies very deep, and men and women must fight it together... But I do love you surely in a better way than he does" He thought. "Yes -- really in a better way. I want you to have your own thoughts even when I hold you in my arms."

Further, in terms of sheer romance and drama, I can't go past this classic.

When I went on my first solo overseas trip at 19, my lasting memory of the first few weeks is one of guilelessness. I still love Mr. Beebe's description of Lucy Honeychurch, where he notes that "If Miss Honeychurch ever takes to live as she plays it will be very exciting, both for us and for her". That is how I felt when I first left Australia. That I needed to 'live as a played'.

I feel like there comes a time, sometime in your late teens or early twenties, when you make the decision to 'live as you play' and to be true to yourself. Lucy's trip to Florence, and her subsequent return home act as a vehicle for her to start to know herself. There is much to relate to in Lucy's journey, not so much her adventures through Florence, but her growth and development through travel.

And this is why this book is a travel classic for me. Because the act of travel should not just be about exploring the culture, or setting a physical challenge, or conquering a mountain. The act of travel should first and foremost be about getting to know oneself.

Here is what I take from A Room with a View. That the bad experiences of travel, be it a south facing room without a view of the Arno or food poisoning in the Himalayas, are just as important as the magnificent experiences. In some ways it is these travel tragedies that define you more that the moments of wonder.

I also think that A Room with a View book tells an important aspect of travel that is often missed out of most narratives. The act of homecoming and the boredom, relief and joy can be hard to capture accurately. That sense that you have fundamentally changed as a person, while those around you have been frozen in time, concerned with the mundane and domestic. Yet in the end, you realise that perhaps you haven't changed as much as you hoped and there is something to be said for appreciating the mundane and the domestic.

So there are my top three, what are you wanderlust books?

xx

N

Annapurna Sanctuary Part I - Naya Pul to Poon Hill

2016-04-14T09:54:00.001+01:00

So I finally made it into the Himalayas and it was more incredible and awe inspiring that I had anticipated.

After a bumpy ride from Pokhara, we started off at Naya Pul (New Bridge) with an easy five hour hike into the foothills. The Canadians in the group (Em, Kelly and Jaimee) were bemused with my appreciation of the soaring mountains. Later I came to see that we hadn't even gotten started with the mountains, and boy has it made me (re-appreciate) how flat Australia is.

At our lunch stop, we were entertained by three boys who had been trying to get an old motorbike up and running. They weren't successful, so just pushed each other around on the bike. Away from mobile phones and iPads these kids looked like they were having more fun than any kid playing fruit ninja.

The teahouses along the trek were also in stark contrast to some of the abject poverty in the outer areas of Kathmandu and Pokhara. There is a photo below which I think typifies the teahouses, with a buffalo, a goat and a satellite dish. It was eye opening to realise how much the region is dependent upon trekking and the capital it brings in. Talking to the locals, they were at pains to emphasise not only how much the economy had been effected by the earthquake, but how important it was for tourists to return to Nepal.

After lunch my tummy started to gurgle, with what I naively thought was just some lingering aftershocks from the twisting ride from Pokhara... oh how wrong I was.

We hiked on to Tikhedhunga in relatively warm weather. If you are planning on hiking the Annapurna Sanctuary or the Annapurna Circuit during the warmer months, make sure you pack for all seasons. I was comfortable in the heat at lower levels, but some of my colder climate compatriots suffered in the heat, and my 50+ UVA/UVB sunscreen was an absolutely necessity with 30+ not cutting it against the daily sweat and grime on the trek. I stupidly thought that a visor would be enough hat protection, and am now dealing with sunburn on my scalp. :|

After an evening of card games and a hailstorm let's just say that the antibiotics and anti-nausea tablets that I invested in came in handy. Frances if you are reading this, I just want to say I have undying sympathy for your stance on stomach upsets #francesisalwaysright. I was a bit concerned that I may have gone overboard with my medicine kit, but by the end of the hike there wasn't a piece of medication that someone on the trek hadn't needed.

Even without the gastrointestinal tremors the second day of hiking was meant to be a challenging climb, with a gain of 1300m in elevation and a solid climb of 3000 steps just to get to the first tea break.

The second day set the pattern for walking that we followed for the remainder of the walk. It typically went:

Breakfast
Walk for 2-3hrs
Tea break (ginger tea was my drink of choice at these breaks because it was boiled and refreshing)
Walk for 1-2 hrs
Lunch
Walk for 1-2 hrs
Arrive at teahouse

We arrived into Ghorepani at about 3pm in the afternoon, at the See You Teahouse. This was one of my favorite teahouses during the entire hike, with a massive common room with a (very much) appreciated wood heater. Having not eaten the entire day, sitting by that fire with a book will remain one of the highlights of the trip.

It was early to bed for everyone that night as we had to wake up very early the next morning to hike up Poon Hill for a view of the sunrise of the Himalayas. When Mum and Dad asked me what I thought of Poon Hill, my simple response was that it was the best sunrise of my life. The photos below don't do that moment justice.

Even if you don't have time to walk the 10 days to Annapurna Base Camp, I highly recommend doing the shorter trek to Ghorepani and Poon Hill. As the sun summited the mountains in the distance, I realised that the Himalayas had stolen into my heart. I am anticipating a life long love affair with these mountains.

Dust storm and Durbar Square

2016-03-28T16:42:00.000+01:00

It has been completely foggy (read smoggy) here in Kathmandu. However after a day of trekking around the city visiting Swayambhunath (the Monkey Temple), Durbar Square (in Patan - one of the three cities that makes up Kathmandu) and making momos (dumplings) at a local NGO, the storm finally hit us when we were at Boudhanath Stupa, which is the largest stupa in Nepal and the spiritual home of the Tibetan exiles in Nepal.

Now the air has cleared and for the first time here I can see the mountains from my window. After the noise and hubbub if Kathmandu I am itching to get into the mountains. But I suspect after multiple days of trekking I will be wishing I has easy access to a shower and a non-squat toilet.

Tomorrow we leave for Pokhara, which is an eight hour drive to travel 250km give the poor state of the roads and the infamous Nepalese traffic. Then the following day we start trekking.

Travelling alone - sometimes getting conned in a good thing

2016-03-27T10:05:00.002+01:00

So it turns out I am gullible. After getting asked 'where are you from' about ten times, I realised it is the standard con line here. But while I am certain that the winding tour I got taken on was for the purpose of bringing me back to buy a painting, at least it means I don't have to go souvenir shopping at the end of the trip.

Bicky (my tour guides name) probably saw me coming a mile away, given my travelling resting bitch face was glued to a downloaded map, but the positive was that by having him show me around, I was actually able to slow down and appreciate the city rather than get caught up in the fact that I had already been lost twice in the space of 10 minutes.

Coming back from Durbar Square, the streets were absolutely heaving with people as apparently 2-3pm in the afternoon is peak shopping time. Apparently being out at 8am walking about is very early for Nepalese time.

Here are a few quick snaps from my first day. I thought I would try and get these up asap given I expect there will be a bit of a break between now and the end of the trekking section of the trip with no wifi access.

A long farewell

2016-03-25T05:24:00.000+00:00

It has been really hard saying goodbye to all the wonderful people I have met over the years in Brisbane. But I have been really blown away with the kind messages of support and encouragement.

Below are a couple of snaps from the various farewells.

Love you guys, make sure you stay in touch.

xx

Nic

Maya and the waterlilies

2016-01-30T14:10:00.002+00:00

In preparation for (attempting) to take pictures in Nepal, I have been playing around with the camera and trying out my new polarising filter.

It turns out I couldn't really ask for a better subject, Maya has so many facial expressions she had me laughing the whole time. Originally I had gone down to the pond to take pictures of the water lilies that are currently in flower.

But Maya basically threw herself in front of the lens.

Can you believe I didn't have to strap any bacon to the camera? Talk about Blue Steel

Lilly Pilly Jam - Forage and Preserve

2016-01-27T10:48:00.003+00:00

This is the jam that I get the most comments and requests about from my friends and family, and is the only jam that my Dad has ever requested a jar of. So I feel that this comes with pretty good credentials.

If you are living in Australia anywhere north of about Coffs Harbour, chances are that you are pretty familiar with the small leaf lilly pilly, or syzygium luehmannii to use its Latin name.

Here is Brisbane, the small leaf lilly pilly comes into fruit towards the end of November, with fruit continuing through until the end of January. Favored by local councils as a drought resistant tree well suited to the variable Queensland climate, the lilly pilly crops up in parks throughout the city.

This makes it ideal for a cheap jam ingredient, with a complex citrus and clove flavour that is unlike any other berry I have jammed. Also, as with cranberries and gooseberries, the lilly pilly is incredibly tart. I think this more than anything is what makes it a great jamming berry, as the sharp notes of the lilly pilly help to counteract the high levels of sugar necessary for preserving.

It is important to note that the small leaf lilly pilly is different from other lilly pillies, and if you use a different variety you will get a different flavored jam. This is significant for anyone in the southern states where the larger berried lilly pillies are more common. While still fantastic to jam, these tend to give a more citrus flavoured preserve, without the complex clove and nutmeg notes of the small leaf variety.

Ingredients
Lilly pillies - 1 kilogram (2.2 pounds)
Sugar - 800 grams (28 ounces)
2 lemons
Pectin (industrial or lemon pips if looking for organic option)
Water

Note: the ingredients can be scaled up or down, depending on how many lilly pillies are harvested.

Tools
1 x 10L pot
1 x sugar thermometer
1 x juicer
1 x wooden spoon
1 x ladle
1 x jar funnel
1 x 40cm x 40cm sheet of muslin
1 x sieve (or stove top steamer)
1 x large bowl
6-8 x 250ml glass jars and lids
1 x oven tray
1 x oven mitt or tea towel

Process
1. Tip lilly pillies into sink of water and give them a really good rinse.

2. Remove as many stalks, leaves (and potentially bugs) as possible. But don't freak out if you can't be bothered removing all the stalks, as these are easy to strain out afterwards. But try to get rid of all the leaves, as they can change the flavour of the jam.

3. Remove the lilly pillies from the water and place in a large 10L pot. Add the juice of the 2 lemons and add water until just covering the lilly pillies. Bring water to boil and then reduce to a simmer. Keep simmering until the lilly pilly berries have lost their colour and the water has turned a nice shade of magenta (this should take about 30 mins - 45mins). I usually top up with a bit of water throughout the process, but be careful not to dilute the mixture too much.

4. Away from the heat place the sieve over a large bowl, and arrange the muslin cloth over the sieve. I actually like to use my two piece Scanpan steamer for this, as I feel it is less likely to topple over. Slowly pour the lilly pilly infusion over the sieve, and leave to drip through into the bowl. It is important that you do not stir or push the mixture through the muslin cloth, as this will result in a cloudy jam. I often leave this to percolate overnight, so I get every last drop possible.

5. Once you have collected as much liquid from the lilly pilly infusion as possible, measure out the amount of liquid you have. For every 1 litre of liquid you will need 800g of sugar.

Note: usually in jam making it is equal parts sugar to liquid; however, I enjoy a slightly tart jam and I find too much sugar can overwhelm the delicate flavours of the lilly pilly. In the past I have bumped the ratio back to 600g to 1 litre, however I have had to up the pectin levels in order to ensure I get a firm set.

6. Now that you have calculated how much sugar you need, add the sugar and lilly pilly infusion back into the large pot you used to boil up the lilly pillies. Clip the sugar themometer to the side of the pot making sure that the tip is in the liquid to take an accurate reading of the temperature. Bring the mixture to a boil, and then add the pectin according to the manufacturer ratios.

Note: if you are making organic jam, or prefer not to use industrial pectin, you can use lemon (or other citrus) seeds for pectin. Wrap the seeds of three lemons (for every 1 litre of liquid) up in a scrap of muslin and tie off with cooking twine (e.g. don't use blue thread like Bridget Jones). Once the seeds are secured bash them with a rolling pin as this will help to release the pectin from the seeds. Add the seeds wrapped in muslin into the lilly pilly mixture.

7. On the oven tray arrange the jars. Place in the oven, and set to 100ºC.

8. Back to the lilly pilly mixture, once you have added the pectin, bring the mixture to 114ºC (237ºF) which is the soft ball stage of sugar. This will ensure that your jam will set once cooled.

Note: If you don't have a sugar thermometer, you can test whether the jam has reached the right temperature by pouring a spoonful onto an ice cold saucer. Give the mixture a couple of seconds, and then run your finger through the middle of the blob. If it stays separated, and doesn't run back together into one blob then you have reached the soft ball stage.

9. Take the jars out of the oven and place somewhere stable. Put the ladle, jar funnel, towel and jar lids close by, so that they are within easy reach. Now carry the pot over to the jars, and places on something heatproof.

10. Fit the jar funnel over the first jar, and ladle the mixture into the jar, making sure not to fill to the very top of the jar. Secure the lid on top (using the towel to prevent burning yourself) and then once the lid is on tightly, turn the jar upside down and return to the oven tray. Repeat the process until you have used up all the jam.

11. Leave the jars to cool slightly and then turn the jars right side up. If you leave to cool entirely the jam will set to the top of the lid, making for a very funny looking jar of jam. I speak from experience, with quite a few jars of levitating jam in my pantry.

Serving suggestions
The tart lilly pilly jam works really well on toast, or with scones and cream. However it is also a wonderful cheese platter addition and is incredible paired with the stronger blues or cheddar. Enjoy!

x Nic

Ever the procrastinator

2016-01-16T11:06:00.000+00:00

Sooooooo after taking the plunge and writing my first post, I didn't do another post for the remainder of 2015.

My bad!

However, with the greatest of intentions and to ring in the New Year, here is my second blog post ever.

As foreshadowed, I have already re-read the last blog post and cringed my way through it. But at least all that introductory gumph is over and done with.

So on to more interesting things. The plans I alluded to in the last post have eventuated and it is all finally official that I am moving to London in March this year!

*COMMENCE LAME DANCING AND BAD SINGING OF LONDON CALLING*

First on my list of Things I need to do before I leave, is apply for a new passport. The scary thing is, it is officially 9 years since I applied for a new one when I was about to leave for Denmark. I lodged the forms late last week and I'm pretty certain that I have an eighties style quiff in my photo. Cyndi Lauper eat your heart out.

In the intervening six months since I last posted a post, I have also decided that since this is the first time in my adult life where I won't have a time constraint, I am going to take my time getting to London. So I bit the bullet and booked a trip to Nepal with a ten day altitude hike. Eeeek!!!!!

However, to complicate matters my flight getting to Nepal has been cancelled once and rescheduled once. The superstitious part of me wants to take this as a sign that I shouldn't do a altitude hike, but the rest of me is just more determined than ever to go to Nepal. Particularly given the hit to the tourist industry following the earthquake.

So at this stage I am busy researching the Annapurna Sanctuary walk, and every type of delicious food I aim to scoff in my face while in Nepal, plus listening to all the horror stories of friends and colleagues who have done altitude hikes. All I can say is gimme some of those Diamox baby!

As the countdown progresses to 70 days until I fly out, I am ramping up the training and the preparation for 'The Big Move'. I intend* to update this website with my preparations and hopefully give myself something to look back on and laugh/groan at.

So read on dear reader, and leave me a comment if you have any tips for Nepal or London... restaurant recommendations most highly welcome!

x Nic

Girraween - Place of Flowers

2015-10-04T00:42:00.000+01:00

Adventures in Stressland

2015-07-27T08:14:00.000+01:00

Hello dear reader, and welcome to my little corner of the internet.

I admit to being daunted at the thought of posting my first blog post. I have no doubt that I will look back at this post and cringe.

But to press onwards, and to save my sanity from endlessly rewriting this post, I thought I would set out what I would like to achieve with this website.

So. *Deep breath*

Firstly, I have set this up for friends and family near and far. I think of this website as a bit of a public scrapbook. My bowerbird’s nest of paraphernalia. Hence the rather odd collection of categories for this little site. But if your interests range from fermenting sauerkraut to cycling, or from Arthur Conan Doyle to skincare and makeup, then hopefully there is something here for you.

But probably there is only my mum reading this. Hi Mum *waves*

Firstly, the name of this site. The Stress Chronicles has been my name on Instagram since I first joined, and I feel that it captures my neurotic wanderings through life. So I have carried it across to this website, and I feel there is no better descriptor for my overthought wanderings through life. I apologise in advance if I ever come across as paranoid, self-centred or ridiculous. At least through the name of this site, you have been forewarned.

Maybe a little bit of background about myself. I am Australian, with a mongrel ancestry. I love travelling, and had the opportunity to live overseas for a year. I lived in Copenhagen, Denmark, and it was one of the best times of my life. Even after all these years, I still annoy my family and friends reminiscing about “when I was in Copenhagen” (I promise I will stop saying that one day guys). I am planning on living overseas again, and have some plans in the pipeline, however it is very early days. So watch this space for future updates.

Reading, cooking, eating and cycling at first don’t appear to be related. However in my world they are a natural (and sometimes not so natural) rhythm. I want to document these elements of my life, and if someone else finds it useful, or simply enjoys reading about me bumbling through life, I will be well pleased. Just try not to judge my idiocy too harshly.

I think I will leave it here for my first post, with only another welcome to my site and a thank you for taking the time to make it this far.

~ Nic