Writing in Italy

Gothenburg 30th June 2009

noreply@blogger.com (Ashleigh Drew) — Thu, 21 Jan 2010 12:05:00 +0000

Nav girl got us safely once again to another location without much bother. Today was HOT, although thankful for the sun it was a little too warm to walk around comfortably and get lost. Which is what we did. We discovered that Andy without a map is like Samson without flowing locks, almost useless! So it was down to me, yes that's right me; the woman who with questionable spacial and directional judgement at the best of times (with Sat nav) can still get lost. Well it was very she and her instincts that got us into the town centre. Well that is after I took refuge under shade a couple of times, while Andy played Ian Rankin. But once we reached town, hunger hit and despite seeing lots of restaurants, none were hitting the spot. Finally we found a suitable 'Ashleigh' type place, that says from the exterior, "Our clientel are classy and we reward people like you who pay a little bit more for your drinks with excellent service". Lies, lies, lies; the management was hanging around doing nothing, there were no menus outside to read, they had a one way in and around-the-houses entrance to the bar that did NO table service and frankly a bar tender whose skills left a snails-pace looking like a better alternative!

Now I am not normally one to complain but I felt cheated, like false advertising that building had promised me the experience I wanted, and here I was now forced to have a drink because I was too weak and hungry to move on, and still - lunchless!! Fortunately for the management the outside entertainment was good enough to curb the inner Gordan Ramsey dying to tell them about their establishment. Above us was a hotel swimming pool with a rather impressive design. A jutted out edge to the pool gave ever so slightly a display of the swimmers floating around in it. After noticing the crowd gathering, cameras in hand, trying to resist the temptation to follow their gaze, Andy and I had to look up. It turned out a rather large lady had taken spot just where everyone might be able to see her. I was more worried she may have sunk but most people just took photos and didn't spare her a thought, water magnifies you know!

Alas we left our expensive bar but didn't have to go far before finding a fab and cheap satisfying lunch. I let Andy face the window as he was enjoying a bit of window shopping as beautiful blonde Sweds walked by. I had secretly also been enjoying checking out the gorgeous Sweds but I gave up the seat nonetheless.

We had managed to get a map and we were now armed with the intel to finding the Viking ship that the little boy inside Andy so desperately wanted to see. Sadly we didn't make it to see the ship, we arrived to the museum as it was closing, having underestimated the time of day given the endless hours of sun!

We made it to the car and onto find our campsite for the night. We were spoilt for choice in Townsland. The first campsite we came to had the most amazing mini golf you have ever seen. It was awesome, but the persistent researcher in Andy meant we had to weigh up our decisions and drive to the next site to check it out. It turned out we weren't missing much and that was even despite the receptionist's rude nature. So we visited option 3. This sites mini golf paled in comparison to site 1 so our minds were made up, well actually the first site had me at mini golf fake mountains, but Andy's curiosity was now satisfied. We were almost turned away at our choice camp when the young girl said "I'll have to check if we have space". Surely looking out the window to an empty field, they had space.

After we set up camp I embarked on my first Tranja cooked dinner - Irish stew. Admittedly this dinner is normally quite fatty and is always a hearty feed however the addition of Swedish meat, took it to a whole new level. Bearing in mind I couldn't tell you what meat we were cooking as I'd not a clue what the Swedish label said, the formidable fat content sure made for tasty stew and although it remained on the pots and dishes for the rest of our meals my first Tranja cuisine was a great success.

We rested inside our tent hidden from the mosquitoes and planned our next big leg - North Germany.

Skagen 29th June 2009

noreply@blogger.com (Ashleigh Drew) — Thu, 21 Jan 2010 11:34:00 +0000

Last night we found a camping spot at Lake Skagen, half way to Gothenburg. The chap who let us in was really very friendly and it was only going to cost us 10E for the night! We were all for a midnight dip in the lake as the man informed us the water was a warm 21 degrees! Friendly he was but he did tell some porkie pies because that lake was just a little bit nippier than 21 degrees!

We setup camp and once again using ourselves as human spirit levels decided which end of the tent to put our heads, a little ritual we had become accustomed to! It really is amazing that we are yet to stay in a camping ground with flat ground!

In the morning we decided to go for a run, well Andy decided the night before, I confirmed my attendance at the last minute! I was pretty impressed with myself and Kate Perry (I have to give her credit as she got me through the last 2 km) we managed a 3 km run. It's funny how the sound of music in your ears can drown out the little voice inside you crying out in pain! Considering I was totally up for the 1km run, but knew that Andy would give me that look, and I would know he was thinking that 1km run is literally like pivoting on the spot, (hey who's complaining?) I was proud of my achievement! Anyhow I made it back to camp albeit a sweaty red faced mess . As soon as I got back, I had my tweezers in hand and was scanning for ticks. Karin had told us about Sweden's infestation of ticks that can do all manner of nasty things to you and give you some 3 word acronym disease I can't remember but Andy probably will! So I set about like inspector Morse, and after hurting myself trying to pull off a few freckles, I did indeed found 3 little buggers on me. One of which was just about clamping in. So let it be known I cheated death by tick in Skagen. I had to keep them to show Andy as I knew he would never have believed me. It is lucky that Andy is such a sweaty guy, because it must have been like a wet and wild park for the ticks, as after a 12km run he'd not one on him!

Skagen was also our laundromat stop. We washed almost everything we'd brought that was bundled into our laundry bag. Thank God the sun was ridiculously hot as it didn't take long for everything to dry and for us to be on our way once again. To Gothenburg.

Uppsala 28th June 2009

noreply@blogger.com (Ashleigh Drew) — Tue, 19 Jan 2010 14:37:00 +0000

Well we decided to stay in Uppsala for the day with the new married couple and it turned out to be a great idea. Tour guide Karin showed us the sites and gave detailed history about the place, of which Andy was taking equally detailed mental notes, I'm sure. We went out onto the lake, the name of which I can't remember (you'll have to ask Andy!). We spent the day paddling by the water and taking the boat out with a questionable amount of fuel and no ores, but that just added to the thrill!

Sadly we were late for the lunch our hosts had kindly cooked for us because someone (you've probably worked out how it will be) threw me into the water with my sunnies on! My 200 for 100 pound Versace glasses and the most obvious visual representation of my newly acquired italian status, yeah those glasses! And while I was super impressed with my calm reaction, reasoning with myself that "He didn't meant to do it", I was deeply disturbed by the thought of loosing my fav Italian specks. They were the only ones that had ever fit my dam pea-sized head! Just as I was about to waver Andy's set obligatory 1 hour search, he pops up wearing the things on his head, blummin' legend!

So the only thing spoilt was our omelet for lunch. I felt pretty bad as everyone had had to wait for us but more pleased to once again be seeing the world from behind my Versace lenses. After lunch it came time to be moving on again, from what had hands down been the highlight of the trip, as well as the most relaxing part so far. Onto Gothenburg.

Wedding day! 27th June 2009

noreply@blogger.com (Ashleigh Drew) — Tue, 19 Jan 2010 14:14:00 +0000

The wedding was gorgeous. Karin's family home was on an idylic spot and everything was organised to a 'T'. I was in tears before the ceremony even started and so was the bride! Karin looked beautiful and Ori scrubbed up good too. To our amazement everyone spoke English with us with such ease. I realised this was probably less to do with our presence and more likely a consequence of the language the bride and groom speak with one another. I have to admit that it took a shameful amount of time to work out! It was right after I realised that the world doesn't revolve around me, I think!! I honestly don't know if I could have a relationship in a second language? Andy can hardly understand me as it is and we share the same syntax, imagine if I was trying to communicate in a foreign language. Game over!

We met many a character and camping connoisseurs once our looming Swedish travels were uncovered. We went home with so many recommendations, that we'd never have time to visit them all. We met champagne Richard, sommelier to the Swedish royalty and his lovely wife, who makes Champagne Jam (My mum would have loved her!), Karin's closest girlfriends who are all as delightful as her and so many other wonderful people it made the day!

The night never seemed to end as the light remained well into the wee hours and we danced our feet off until it was time to get some sleep.

Waxholm & Uppsala 26th June 2009

noreply@blogger.com (Ashleigh Drew) — Tue, 19 Jan 2010 13:54:00 +0000

We woke up early, the sun beaming into our tent. Andy went for his morning run and I did some Yoga and strength exercises. It was a gentle awakening to the day and after we had packed up camp, we headed to the beach! It was cute, small and public. Although it was busy we managed to score two great seats on the rocks looking over the water. After a bit of a sun bathe and a swim, that ended up really pissing off a seagull, it was time for us to pay up and head to Uppsala for Karin and Ori's wedding. Just as we did pay up we read the front page of a Swedish newspaper " Michael Jackson död". Now not to say I have any particular flare for languages but I was pretty sure that meant dead! Sadly I was right. We asked the helpful and ever so annoyingly perfectly fluent in English Sweeds, if in fact MJ had passed away and they confirmed our suspicions. It was a sad realisation and made me realise quite how unreal our lives had been the past weeks flitting from one place to the next!

It wasn't far to Uppsala. I slept most of the way, naturally, my trusty taxi driver was wide awake and on the ball. When we arrived at the hotel it couldn't have been more perfect, in the centre of town, nice space, and beds, soft beds! We bumped into Karin's family and got to say a hello to them all and we received such a great welcome, especially from Karin's mum.

Afterwards we took a look round Karin's childhood home. It was lovely and we stopped for a drink and a 'perve' (Andy that is, I found out later!), and dinner (and more perving supposedly!). That evening Andy met up with Ori and went for a drink and I stayed in the hotel and watched 'Almost famous', which is a great film. On my first viewing I wasn't so keen but it was definitely worth a second watch. When Andy came in we pretty much fell asleep immediately!

Stockholm 25th June 2009

noreply@blogger.com (Ashleigh Drew) — Tue, 19 Jan 2010 10:37:00 +0000

Well our journey was taking us through Southern Sweeden to Stockholm. The views were spectacular and the country is frankly an outdoor adventure playground. Andy was in his element cooing about mountains and lakes and dappled light, as he loves to do. I slept quite a bit, it's funny how not driving can take it out of you! Although, I did drive the last couple of hours until we reached Stockholm. On the outskirts of the city and tantalisingly close to being able to park up and get out and stretch our legs after several hours cooped up, we discovered Nav girl's Achilles heel - tunnels.

Strangely enough in Sweeden you can change lanes, merge, bare left or right for all kinds of destinations inside a tunnel. Now I thought overtaking in tunnels was illegal in most countries, apparently not here! So we found ourselves sea-sawing in and out of tunnels until eventually, a little hot headed, we finally found our bearings and a parking lot.

So liberated from the car we strolled in the direction that seemed right (so wherever Andy started wondering off to). Of course we had to get a map, Andy likes to fell safe with a map in his hand, so to assess his surroundings and never be caught unaware. So we wondered round the old town which was quaint but sadly rather 'touristy'. We took a look at the parliament and walked along the river after having seen the nobel prize winner steps. I figured I'll be returning one day to collect my own prize so we didn't spend long there!! We then walked round the Dujgarden (It's phonetical spelling) and hired some bikes to cycle round the park. However I was a little bit disappointed with my bike. It was terribly difficult to get going. It was a back-pedaling-brake bike, so that means you can't swing your pedal round in order to push off. Have you tried pushing off without swinging your pedal round? Needless to say I had a shaky start, that never finished really! However, Djurgarden is irrefutably pretty.

Having just cheated death on two wheels, I felt like sitting on the water front in one of the numerous bars along the bank, as well as needing a wee! But would you believe it? Not one bar had space for us to sit and enjoy Stockholm. It was so depressing. I mean how dare the Sweeds come out and enjoy their own city on such a glorious day, so that us tourists, only here for one day, couldn't! If we put this into perspective: Paris and Geneva held music festivals for our coming, while Stockholm couldn't even sport us a seat outside! Poor show Stockholm, poor show!

And as you can imagine after traipsing up and down the river searching for a place to have a drink, my need for the toilet hadn't lessened. I have to say after my experience I would not recommend Stockholm to Pregnant women or anyone with a weak bladder as it was blumming near impossible to find a bog! We did finally succeed in a supermarket, only to be charged. I couldn't believe it, they had actual denied me of my God given rite to pee for the last hour and now they wanted my money for the privilege. Unbelievable, but when principles and a call of nature collide, obviously we used the toilets!

Despite this however we were very impressed with Stockholm and were left wanting more. So we hope we can visit again and this time drink less water before we arrive!

That evening we left for Waxholm camping ground. It was stunning. Although we arrived at nearly 9pm the light was as bright as in mid afternoon. Sweden's north has the lowest light hours after summer solstice and the sun rises at 2am! So we pitched up tent, met our neighbours (some big ass mosquitoes!), sprayed ourselves incessantly with Deet and settled in for a good nights sleep.

Copenhagen 24th June 2009

noreply@blogger.com (Ashleigh Drew) — Mon, 23 Nov 2009 21:02:00 +0000

We took a ferry over to Denmark from Germany. It was staggering operations management! I didn't time it so I may well be exaggerating but it was about 5 minutes onto the ferry with cars and approximately 2 minutes until we left dock. It was incredible and the same happened the other end. In England it never would work, the drivers would still be finishing their pints at the bar before they even realiased they may be needed back in their cars for arrival! Needless to say it was a great journey: swift, efficient and calm!

So we arrived in Denmark - Ja!!! We only had a few hours drive up to Copenhagen (Kobenhaven) where we arrived at our camp site, the first of our roadtrip, to find it pretty quiet. Most importantly this meant we could have what is really the highlight of the trip for Andy: Our first Tranja cooked dinner!

You may think that I have missed out a detailed description of Copenhagen and the delights we saw. But if you've never been to Copenhagen, you're not missing anything! Really!

In honesty we weren't impressed, the place is covered with signs and advertisements. I made us trek to what the Lonely Planet guide said was the 'tiniest cafe in the world'. Now if you are like me you may think 'what an experience?! I wonder if the espressos are so small they're served in tiny thimble like cups, or served by midgets because they're the only people who can get in and out?'. Well, don't believe everything you read. It was small - yes, but the tiniest cafe in the world? I think not! The guy sitting outside (I know the smallest cafe in the world, had an outside - what a farce!) looked like he thought he owned the place - well he could have - and was rather unfriendly and the girl serving the coffee was frankly rotund!. All-in-all crap.

Copenhagen kind of sucked after that. It was an alright town but not really for me. It's covered in drunks, but having said that, there have been drunks wherever we've been. Maybe we're following them all on the same Europe trail only some of them obviously got seperated at one point or another! Considering Denmark is officially the happiest country in the world, people seem to be getting pretty pissed trying to forget that fact!
"I bloody hate being so happy, hit me again barman!"

So in conclusions, yes, the Tranja was amazing in Copenhagen and the curry we cooked in it (I say we, but Andy did most if it) was tasty and after our first night sleeping in our tent, we were off again....Stockholm here we come, Copenhagen, good riddance!

Stadhagen 22nd June 2009

noreply@blogger.com (Ashleigh Drew) — Mon, 23 Nov 2009 10:15:00 +0000

Our drive to Stadhagen was long and the high standard of driving (compared to Italy that is) in Paris and Northern France, took a a dive as we crossed the boarder. Once again it seems no dangerous people reside in France and even if they did it is presumed they'd have no beef with Germany! No reason at all to cross the boarder with bad intentions, I mean it's not like the German's ever did something like that to them! I am presuming here that they obviously did, didn't the Germans piss everyone off?!! I've bought Bryson's 'short history of nearly everything' just not started it yet!

So as we joined the Autobahn the chaos ensued. Audi's and BMW's are apparently the German car manufacturer of choice, as it was these vehicles that whizzed past us at an almighty speed! Andy enjoyed trying to be a human speedometer, throwing out estimations with absolute confidence when one drove past. I did however discover my favorite German word - Auschfart! It means 'Exit' and it is such a fabulous word considering it sounds a lot like the....well lets just say onomatopoeia plays a role! Anyway we were auschfarting all over the autobahn it was ridiculous! Actually we weren't, I just wanted to write that, in fact, we stayed on the same road pretty much all the way, for around 300Km.

When we finally arrived at Andy's cousin's house, Maca (pronounced Matsa phonetically) we were pleasantly surprised with the German countryside and it seemed we'd brought the good weather with us too!

It was a lovely few days, involving more walking than I'd hoped, but the Bacik family are fond of a good old stroll (Remember Seleve!). Although the family spoke fabulous English I felt I struggled to get me point across. I had several jokes go down like a lead balloon, but strangely enough their two year old, Nico, found my inability to understand a word he was saying charming! So not alll was lost, although I'm still not quite sure what happened when he smelt my butt cheeks!!

We drank German beer and ate German sausages (which are no Waitrose pork) and relaxed in Maca's brilliantly self-designed home. We walked some more, obviously, and sniffed roses, for what I considered a peculiarly long time. I was told we were "appreciating our surroundings", guess I'm just a bit quicker on that front. We also took so many photos, had it not been the digital age the prints would have stacked the height of me. And despite taking almost identical photos of the same things, they were still swapped between photographers afterwards! I took 3 photos, they were nice.

So once again we are off, this time to Copenhagen!

Paris 21st June 2009

noreply@blogger.com (Ashleigh Drew) — Mon, 23 Nov 2009 09:27:00 +0000

I have to say I feel a little guilty that I've not stuck to writing this blog everyday and I am shamlessly stuck not even half way through our massive summer adventure. Happily I have not been writing because I have joined the land of the employed but still my passion and future is writing and that should not be forgotten! So I must continue where we left off, in Paris:

Well we left at 9 am and didn't leave until 11:30 am so yes, we didn't do much! Oh my god, if our tour of Paris was marketed it would be named the 'Everything in one day tour (no time to even take a piss!)". It was a non-stop and exhausting onslaught of beautiful buildings and cultural iconic attractions all on foot and for the most part of the day, fueled by only a crepe!

In all honesty it's a bit of a blur but all was seen: Notre Dam, the Louvre, the Tour du Eiffel in the day, Champs Elise (from a distance) and the Sacre Cour! Here at the steps of the sacred heart we sat, surrounded by locals and some tourists, with a view of Paris and free music. Once again our visit to a city had coincided with a music festival! I think they know we're coming, "music Festival" is just a cover story so as not to embarrass us because obviously everyone had gone to so much effort for us! Anyway we enjoyed the music they put on for us and the show, even if this young girl they really built up to was sadly average! Young footballers balanced balls on their foreheads while climbing lampposts! Incredible we got it all on video! And even Germain Jackson (yes that's right) popped in to say hello, although Andy will tell you that that never happened, but he's just annoyed I saw him and he didn't! Jealously is an ugly thing!

It was after a couple of sets and after the feeling had returned to our tired feet we ambled on back to the metro, to head onto the Bastille for dinner. Max had suggested this as a real Parisian place to go and eat. We found a nice little bar/restaurant and ate THE most delicious medium rare burger that our tiring day had most definitely earnt us!

Paris done. Next....!

Paris 20th June 2009

noreply@blogger.com (Ashleigh Drew) — Tue, 11 Aug 2009 13:59:00 +0000

We arrive in what seemed to be the Paris ghetto but we thought at least it couldn't get any worse. Or could it? No I'm only stirring it was actually a great stay. Our hotel was brilliant (just outside ghetto borders) Hotel Chassoniers by San Mour metro. Our room was literally just a bed and a basin but all clean and sufficient for the eight hours of slumber we spent there.

As soon as we got in, we shot straight to 'Meating' the steak house Max had recommended to us. Everything went so perfectly. What little French we could remember endeared us to the Parisians, our hotel was so close to the metro and the restaurant was easily reached. Our meal was romantic and such a good feed, our cote de beof was delicious and served by a very fabulously moody Frenchman. Only the French can make moody likable! He ended up being an ex French rugby player and English club coach - small world. He also gave me a muffin for breakfast which was very sweet of him, tasted like crap unfortunately, but Andy ate it in the end; although that really doesn't say much about the muffin, as pretty much anything edible isn't safe in the same vicinity as him!!

After dinner we took the RER train also known as 'area', well, that's what it blummin' sounds like:
"You take the area, to the Eiffel tower", "Yeah we'd like to take in the area, we just need to know how to bloody get there!".

Despite our comprehension confusion we made it to the Eiffel tower by RER by midnight. Just in time to see it come alive with a frenzy of lights accompanied by a chorus of 'ohhhs' and 'ahhhs'. I can't quite put my finger on why, but it really is one of the most romantic sites in the world.

Geneva June 19th 2009

noreply@blogger.com (Ashleigh Drew) — Sat, 18 Jul 2009 18:51:00 +0000

We rose early to head on up to Séleve. We finally got on our way after a lttle detour when someone (It wasn't me or Mish) forgot their passport. We obviously couldn't risk not being able to get back into the country as the mountain is just outside Switzerland border. Especially since we knew how strict borders could be, can you sense the sarcasm!

Anyway, we were smug with our passports passing the border with a total of ZERO officers asking for it!! We took the cable car up to Séleve and Mish had suggested we get a sandwich for lunch, (croque Monsieur for me) and walk to the top, a maximum, maximum I say, 10 minutes walk to the view of the Alps and Geneva including Mont Blanc (well seen that!). Anyway an hour and a half later I can only tell you what the ground beneath my feet looked like, and it was mostly shitty or blumming slippy in flip flops, until we finally met a cloudy non visible view that was apparently the Alps and Geneva! It was such a shame, but my croque Monsieur and I had made it, albeit it covered in sheep shit and absolutely shattered!! It was sweet Mish wanted us to see it, but Nav girl she is not bless her!

That evening we were meeting Mish's new boyfriend and mates out in town. So after a recuperation nap we dolled up and went out. As it was Geneva music festival, the town was heaving with bands and free entertainment. I discovered fruit beer and was loving the bar lady serving it with a champagne glass- girl got me all worked out! We danced on some Protestant statues the significance of which I seemed to miss, but we were definitely living it up Expat style. Pretty rocking!

All in all the company was excellent and Michelle has a lovely life, boyfriend, mates 'n' all.

So our Geneva leg was over, up to Paris in the morning! Road trip!

Europe trip: Geneva 18th June 2009

noreply@blogger.com (Ashleigh Drew) — Fri, 17 Jul 2009 16:55:00 +0000

Our Europe trip started through Geneva and we were delivered to Geneva literally through Mont Blanc's backside. It was an amazing site; after 11 km of tunnel, (and 2 failed attempts at holding our breathe through the whole thing) we popped out of Mont Blanc and arrived in France. It is a staggering height old Blancety Blanc and a great first foreign site of our immense road trip.

It was a strange feeling to know we were in another country although our liquids hadn't been monitored or our bags checked for bombs; in fact we weren't stopped at the border at all. The guard did ask us who we were visiting but it was more out of interest than national security! I did wonder to myself:
"Have these terrorists worked out this security loop hole?" Bloody hope not!
Mind you, had we been driving around looking like trouble we probably would have stopped, but there was no way we looked suspicious in what is, let's face it, Louis Vuitton Mecca!

Anyway it was onto Geneva with not much difficulty, as our American traveling partner, we call her Nav girl, knew the way!

We parked up in a central parking lot, making use of Nav girl's canny knowledge of local parking opportunities and popped into town. Emerging from the car park my eyes were met with Cartier and Louis Vuitton (I wasn't so far from home!) and after a short walk to check out Saint Peter's Cathedral; tall, old, great views, massive bells (if you know what I mean!) we hired some bikes. Geneva has a fantastic tourist attraction - free stuff!!! Our bikes were absolutely free, they were giving them away! Well you couldn't take then home but you needn't pay for their daily use.

So we ambled, peddled rather, along Lake Geneva and it was lovely. For a 30 degree odd day the breeze was a 'cool' welcome! I dipped my feet in the water and it was beautifully refreshing and lowered my body temperature for the ride back.

After returning our bikes we headed to pick up Mish, Andy's sister. Trusty Nav girl guided the way. It was great to see Mish and the twins reunited (they're twins, obviously!). We left our car with Lela and Dan and moseyed into town after a freshen up.

Earlier in the day Andy had spotted a Thai restaurant he fancied for dinner and low and behold his twin must have been reading his mind! As this had been the only restaurant we had spotted in a big old town we were no longer skeptical of twin intuition! The Thai was great but with a table of tired, yawning faces we called it a night after we'd eaten.

Day one in Geneva over.

When in Rome!

noreply@blogger.com (Ashleigh Drew) — Mon, 01 Jun 2009 20:54:00 +0000

Italian people actually think I'm Italian. My Benetton polo shirt and Italian shoes are working a treat! No tour operators bugged me on the way to the vatican from the metro and I was free to listen to the tour knowledge as I passed by without interruption. So I found out the Spanish steps were actually built by the French and there's a good pizza slice to be had right outside the vatican (an American tour guide's gem; sometimes stereotypes really do hit the nail on the head, you've got to admit!).

Well, I enjoyed my Sudo Italian status for only a while, as a little American old lady made a bee line for me, without introductions or 'niceties' she simply barked:
"You know where the Sistine chapel is?"
I replied to the old lady.
"Sure it's right behind you" Hiding my disappointment I was so obviously British, or worse, American looking to her!!

She wasn't convinced. So I got out my map and showed her where we were, a maximum 15 steps fromt Saint Peter's Square and the Sistine Chapel, and I told her (trying my hardest to not be patronising): "Well we're here and see that's the vatican and it's just through here and the chapel's inside, I think." The 'I think' was my non-condescending addition but unfortunately it seeded doubt in this little old lady's mind and she was having none of it. She decided to ask someone who knew exactly where it was and I didn't discourage her!!! So I was feeling very pleased with myself until this little old lady questioned my Italian image AND my Italian knowledge. I do hope she reached the chapel however, or maybe she found that pizza slice place her countryman rated!!

Anyway I continued to enjoy the vatican, avoiding all touristy habits and giving a off a few stares or two - just to look authentically Italian !! Sadly, I couldn't avoid the cliche of getting the map out and getting lost. If you ever need to find a car park near the vatican, call me, I spent 20 mins lost in one so know a bit about it. And the green patch of 'supposed' park land near the Square, is Bermuda's triangle, be ware!

Ciao

May 1st - Officially Italian Summer!

noreply@blogger.com (Ashleigh Drew) — Fri, 15 May 2009 13:57:00 +0000

Only a few weeks ago before the month of May began, Andy and I were receiving a fair number of odd looks regarding our choie of attire. I suppose we were acting like such Brits, as soon as we see a glimpse of sun, we're outside barbecuing and wearing shorts, sandals and carrying around portable fans and spraying evian face spray like mad. However, I have to say the temperature was reaching mid 20's so of course we were in our summer gear, the only ones in our summer clobber traipsing around town.

Now although Italians love a stare or two, we felt that there really was a cultural idiosyncrasy we were obviously unaware of. And we were right. Apparently in Italia folks, May 1st is the start of summer, and damn those who wear their summer wardrobes before any such date has passed!

Now this was something told to me before May and truthfully I though it was a load of tosh really! So I was flabbergasted when May 1st came round, and blow me, there is every man and his dog (literally) dressed in bright warm weather garb! Women were now wearing open toe shoes and the fur coats had been hung up replaced with delicately colored leather jackets and little dogs stepping out minus their Burberry onesies! Men are seen without their blazers and the odd pedal pusher had been making an appearance. The face of Treviso fashion had literally changed over night!

I was pleased I could now wear my flipflops and flowing skirts without getting a look, but what I didn't realise, is that what is now equally shameful (now that is it Summer) is wearing clothes that might keep you warm, in say perhaps, a chilly breeze! I found this out when only I and a poor little old lady with varicose veins were the only two out one night wearing black tights under our skirts. Seemingly if there's no medical reason for wearing tights it is simply an odd thing to wear in May. Suffice to say I've been bearing my pasty white legs since, although they do attract attention I know it is not for any reason other than for the fact they are so glaringly white it's hard to miss them!

I did visit England however recently where my pasty white legs were certainly in good company in the English Summer sun!

Italian Bus drivers

noreply@blogger.com (Ashleigh Drew) — Tue, 05 May 2009 18:16:00 +0000

They are, to say the least, the scariest drivers I have come across! Given most drivers in Italy are off their rocker, that says a lot. Never in any other country have I seen a bus maneuver out of such small places with a constance gaze out their rear view mirror as if, it doesn't count if they hit the front when they have such a large ass behind them!! They're literally covering their asses! Or complete a 10 point turn at a hotel by the beach. That one was actually pretty impressive, it was a double decker too!

Seriously though it is scary. Here, when a Bus Driver gestures for you to go across the zebra crossing - RUN. Believe me, that 'wave-on' doesn't mean 'Yes please go and I'll wait for you to pass'. Oh no, it means 'If you go NOW I reckon I won't hit you, but it depends how fast you run, you ever can tell!'. Seriously I walk across roads here as if at any moment a driver could have a sudden change of heart and hit the accelerator, as if having weighed the time it will take to wait for me to pass versus killing me, the later option comes out on top!

I've seen little old ladies just walk out into the road. They are obviously hardened to the constant looming possibility that death is literally just round the corner, it's 1.6 engine revving; either that or they're blind. Much like their impatience for queuing, these little old ladies are crossing that zebra when they want and you just better had stop! Maybe I need more pedestrian bravado. Perhaps if I stand out in-front of the Bus and stare it down it will stop? Yeah no I won't be trying that. I'm happy with my half walk half hop, ready to run nervous tread!

Ciao

Post Italia!

noreply@blogger.com (Ashleigh Drew) — Fri, 17 Apr 2009 07:52:00 +0000

The Post system in Italy is amazing! I have never before been instilled with the feeling my post may never reach it's destination from a Post Office worker before last week.

I was sending off my first Short Screenplay to the British Screenplay Competition, the day of the deadline. So when I asked the lady to send the letter ASAP "Subito" I was a little worried when her face turned a shade of grey and her demeanor shrivelled, which made me think that what she was rattleing off in Italian had to mean that that might not be possible!!! I was a little confused and asked for what reason did she think it was such a task that Italia post couldn't send my letter? Now I'll be honest, my Italian is getting good but this woman was incomprehensible, although I continued to nod as if I understood of course. I asked her if she thought it could arrive in a few days, to which her reply was in 5 days or more! It seems, you see, if you want to send a package or letter it's transit time very much depends on the time you decide to send it. It seemed my last minute cavaier attitude didn't wash in Italy! So I opted for the expensive 'express' delivery option which of course takes upto 3 days, and not a penny spent of that money gave me any confidence my letter would arrive at it's destination!

After my confusing morning and expensive 'Express' postal experience, my Italian friend explained to me that if you go to the post office after 9 am on a Friday they won't do anything with that post until the Monday, hence the 5 days at least explanation!

While we were on the subject I thought it appropriate to also ask my friend about a package I have been expecting for a few months. Like many things in Italy the explanation involved a shrug, a gesture that has become loaded with meaning for me in my months in Italy. This particular shrug meant, 'well, maybe it'll reach you and maybe it won't'. Comforting!

So alas I must wait for the teleport machine to be invented as I think this means of delivery might be a little more reliable! Oh and obviously if someone has written to us and not heard a reply, apologies but perhaps now you understand why!!

All things Italian

noreply@blogger.com (Ashleigh Drew) — Thu, 02 Apr 2009 08:05:00 +0000

Well Italy is becoming the place I thought it would be. The weather is beginning to resolve itself and the temperature has got to an exciting 17 degrees! I've been here for 4 months now and it has rained, a lot, but still the commentators for Andy's game on the weekend said the torrential rain was 'Cosi British'! They had a good old chuckle about it but really our rain may be consistent but it's consistently pathetic at least. Here the rain really has its say, as it probably doesn't know when it'll be popping in again!

In any case yesterday was beautiful and I really felt fab driving in the car back from the gym, a glow on my face and my window down. I met the girls there for an acqua class. No that doesn't mean we were surrounded by OAP's, in fact here acqua classes are no easy ride (as I was hoping my first time!). The girls and I shared a few 'ohh that's a bit hard' moments with one another. I wonder if they felt as bad as I did last night though crawling into bed at 9 pm, much to Andy's amusement....must ask them. Or not, it could be humiliating!

I had a dreadful nights sleep too. God knows if it's all that exercise giving me energy frankly my body could cash in on, given the exhaustion. It's not really what you want though is it, extra energy during the rest times, why can't my extra energy come during the day or when I want to stay up late and watch Peak Practice? Why do they put my favorite programs after 'Bed-time'! Takes me back to being 12 and wanting to watch 'Bottom', I sneaked it occasionally...only when Mum thought I'd already gone to bed! Anyway, it was therefore a necessity that I start my morning with reading my new book in a steaming hot bath, that my muscles were craving for. Seriously I was dreaming of suds and massages all night.

And this morning feeling slightly refreshed but still hankering to be horizontal I am committing to page the two ideas for shorts I had last night as I tried to doze off, always my most creative hour!

Ciao

Good Artists copy, Great artists Steal !

noreply@blogger.com (Ashleigh Drew) — Thu, 26 Mar 2009 14:01:00 +0000

Pablo Picasso died in 1973. It may well not be widely known, (or it might be!) that Pablo wrote poetry as well as painted, so he was a fellow writer. (He'd have probably been member of many a writing forum had he lived just 11 years more to see the birth of the internet).

In his life time Pablo was believed to have said that:

"Good artists copy, and great artists steal".

Now as a new writer (who is marked upon originality) it seems to me it is a statement that flies in the face of originality. But having said that, as a screenwriter (and future novelist, hopefully) the job we have is to create characters, place them within a story that we structure, and give it meaning. So, unless we are the most creative and imaginative mind in the world we must at least borrow our necessary ingredients from our experiences.

Now if we were to simply copy those experiences and mesh them together without changing them, our stories would end up incoherent. However instead by taking those experiences, (whether our own or not) and owning them, manipulating their makeup so as to fit together neatly in one story, have we stolen them? At what stage does the stealing matter? Have we stolen the idea if what we end up with is something we have totally reinvented? Arguably something new and NOT the original idea we stole (supposedly)?

The dictionary definition of stealing is:

Dishonestly pass off another person's ideas as one's own.

Now in art that may be possible. The periods that art has gone through (Cubism for example in Picasso's case) perhaps lend themselves to the argument that artists are all trying to perfect the same 'genre', or 'style' of their time. Thus, one could indeed pinch another artist's idea should they foolishly share them so liberally with you. But if Pablo considered himself a great artist, and I'm sure he did, then he must have been stealing his ideas! Now unless in the 70's there were an awful lot of women with some pretty clean cut jaw lines walking around, or an underground painter Pablo stole his ideas from, I don't think he was speaking in literal terms when he chose the word steal!

In my opinion with writing, I am inclined to take the stance that, naturally one can never steal an idea and pass it off as one's own, as every idea comes from an experience and only in interpretation can that idea take on meaning. This is assuming a great writer, as Picasso refers to, would not simply look to steal another's idea merely to have it but to own it - thus add himself to it, effectively changing it!

A fellow writer once said to me 'ideas are free'. Now indeed perhaps they are. They are always there for the taking. Thus, if I am stealing my ideas from the universe , I am indeed passing them off as my own, albeit not dishonestly! I'm a Catholic girl I'll have you know!

What I don't like about this argument is that it lends itself to support the premise that modern art is feasibly art, when in fact most of it is a pile of crap. (A controversial opinion I know.) And no I don't agree that the unappreciative feeling you get when you glaze over at a canvas with a red dot on it, unable to find the true meaning, is arguably 'the point'! Please, I mean our bedroom is untidy all the time and we don't stand marveling at it, let alone asks others to pay for the privilege to do so!

Tracey Emin's Bed

I digressed a bit there, but I think I have found my comfortable conclusion. In writing, one must be original. However, our ideas can be borrowed but, our telling of the story, the sewing of seeds that grow in your imagination cannot be stolen, and that is very much what makes us Great Writers!

Did you know?

noreply@blogger.com (Ashleigh Drew) — Mon, 23 Mar 2009 11:07:00 +0000

What are we to make of these statistics? I don't think I've ever felt so small!!!

And my 'To-be' Mother in law sent me this lovely video today. It's a day of visual inspiration! Got the right link now...

http://www.theinterviewwithgod.com/popup-frame.html

Tipped for great things

noreply@blogger.com (Ashleigh Drew) — Fri, 20 Mar 2009 10:23:00 +0000

I read something very true today in my Shooters newsletter. We will skirt over the fact that it is now 11.35 and I still haven't managed to get on with the Thriller I am writing that needs to be finished in less than 12 days! So the newsletter addressed the point of how one becomes ' Tipped for greatness'. Now, one person's reply to this thread was to say that he Tips himself. It is a more than appropriate response but also very insightful. It made me think: of course we must believe in ourselves and our work but also to believe that the efforts we make will take us somewhere; and not to be halted by others who don't appreciate our greatness as much as we do.

JK Rowling is a perfect example of a writer who was rejected many times before her talents were appropriately appreciated. And had those publishers who turned her away known quite how lucrative her talents were, I am sure then appreciation would have modified!

You see, we are in a unique position ourselves, in as far as we know our talents, we know how easy things come to us, how natural writing feels. Now, as I am at the burgeoning stages of my new career direction I do still find myself trawling through job sites looking for something easy to jump out in front of me and pay me a packet. But I forgive myself for these slips as I always return to my writing questioning why I wasted my time on those job sites at all because you know what, I really tip myself.

I am tipped for great things in writing and although I know that, I won't stop until that is a reality and everyone else knows it too!

ciao

Firenze and a Fresh outlook

noreply@blogger.com (Ashleigh Drew) — Wed, 18 Mar 2009 14:45:00 +0000

Well living in Italy does have its perks. For example a weekend trip in the car can transport you to the wonderfully romantic world of Florence in under 3 hours!

We were lucky enough to have the whole weekend in this glorious city. The weather was on our side and our hotel was in the perfect location. We even got free parking, which we heard is normally a nightmare. We pitched up to our hotel and had a parking space right outside the entrance for free, no idea what people are complaining about!!

We stayed in Hotel Beatrice, which was a lovely experience. Aside from our very charismatic owner, who resembled the 'Count' from Sesame Street, the rooms were typically Italian. Somehow when you are on holiday decor that you would never let grace your own home walls earns a new appreciation. The place had an authentic feel that was intrinsic to its makeup and made our stay, in my opinion, all the more romantic.

Within walking distance to all the sites and churches we had a spring in our step Saturday morning when we began our tour de Firenze! In short the place is magical. The art museums conjure a spiritual sensibility from the works of Michelangelo & Co. Although I was still pretty confused how all these guys in the sculptures would have been quite so ripped without an LA Fitness membership?! Maybe they had gyms in those days! Probably just hung around the baths lifting stones, tallying reps on the walls with chalk, driving the girls wild!!

Anyway there was too much to pack into here but all in all a fabulous time was had. City breaks are making a come back it seems!!

noreply@blogger.com (Ashleigh Drew) — Tue, 10 Mar 2009 18:57:00 +0000

Right so when you think about jetsetting off to Dubai, I'm sure what doesn't come to mind is spending 10 hours in an airport lounge. Yeah, neither did we and had we known we would have thought twice! Sadly just as we were praising AirFrance for their croissants, among other things, their appeal flopped like a bad soufflle! Our connection flight was 45 mins after our arrival and we thought this was a little ambitious but we, and at least 7 others, were to find out exactly how unachievable that aim really was.
On arriving we walked a good 50 kilometre before we saw any sign of life. After which the lady standing in uniform informed us we needed to catch a bus to another terminal. She did neglect to tell us that the bus driver had come runner up in last years 'Slowest driver in France' competition. So with the clock ticking and our boarding time past, we began to worry. But with 15 mins to go, we reach our terminal despite all the drivers best intentions!
Now we were remaining positive, ignoring the gut feeling France was definitely conspiring against us. However the theory was fully supported as we found ourselves at the back of another huge security queue, encore en fois! We did manage to make our gate a whole 12 mins before our take off but, we had lost the battle. France was victorious.
We were told it wasn't our plane we could spy right infront of us, painstakingly close, which is always a great pet peave of mine when someone tells me what I see is a lie.
'Bloody eyes they keep lying to me, one more time and I'm gone, I tell you outa here then see how you survive!'.
Anyway AirFrance put us on the next flight out, a convenient 10 hours later and kindly offered us nothing in compensation. So alas, a 30 euro rip-off lunch and a few hours of kip later I'm not feeling too jetsetting. But as my wonderful man put it 'Christ babe you're still coming to Dubai', that I am, and isn't that great!

writing competitions

noreply@blogger.com (Ashleigh Drew) — Wed, 25 Feb 2009 09:43:00 +0000

Well while literally contemplating the inept self motivation I have and wondering if I'll ever get up to the 7 am alarm-clock to dive into writing, I received an email from Gordy Hoffman. Well, not personally for me, I signed up for a newsletter but still. In Gordy's post he speaks of how important writing competitions are. Now after having spoken with Andy questioning their use, (as it seems to me they buy your script for you entrance fee and then can do what they like with it afterwards!), Gordy had some well needed advice.

Writing is a lonely business, in the real world at least. When you do get that fabulous idea you are obviously not alone but accompanied by the characters you build up and the world you are creating. which can be an amazing experience. My only finished short I did in one day!

Writing can be lonely and it is difficult, I find, to be your own boss. I tend to be the boss I had always wished for, I have tea breaks when I want, my lunch hours can be whole afternoons and if I need to pop out to do my weekly shop that's fine too! But it shouldn't be, if you are to get writing done, you need to be disciplined and that means being the boss you hate, the one that is always right and makes you feel guilty when you want to dash home to catch that spin class or the one who agrees you can make your important appointment but reminds you the work is still due in tomorrow!!

OR......you can do what Gordy Hoffman suggests - enter writing competitions. Okay so you have to pay to enter and then the terms and conditions must read well enough you don't feel you are being shafted. But it is a fabulous idea, there is your new boss.

He has terms and conditions that are clear, he wants the work in at a deadline, but you can hand it in at a later deadline but you'll pay for it. Simply he'll help you get things done. Now it is 5 days until the first BlueCat competition deadline. I go to Dubai to watch Andy play in the Sevens world cup in 6 days....so if I can write an 18 minute short in one day I can finish a feature length in 5, just have to decide if I'm going to go with the thriller or the drama?! hmmmmmm!

ash x

I'm back

noreply@blogger.com (Ashleigh Drew) — Mon, 23 Feb 2009 22:57:00 +0000

Hey folks, sorry for the radio silence. I have had a week with a friend and a week over in England and not found time to write in between. Bad I know, it won't happen again I assure you.

It was great to be home and see friends and family but there is something special about coming back to Italy, our new home. Living somewhere in which you have to mentally make effort in order to communicate with people is very fulfilling. Most of us rush through lives and find ourselves saying things rote, things run off our tongues before we have really even given it a moments thought. But I have to say living in a different country and speaking a different language makes each experience a little more interesting, purely because of the attention you must give it. I appreciate more what my friends say to me and I choose my words carefully when speaking with them. I don't swear in Italian which goes very well with my new years resolution that is not doing so well in the old mother tongue!

I am off to the last day of Venice Carnival tomorrow with friends and this is just a mid week trip. It's really exhilarating with every day becoming a new experience with lessons to learn and opportunities to grow. I shall post some pictures later this week.

And once again I must remind myself (don't know why I'm telling you, but go along with it) I am here to write. To take advantage of my very fortunate position and write away until I come up with all the masterpieces that are going to make me successful. I mustn't get distracted with how wonderful each moment living abroad is, don't worry I am aware at how sickly I sound. I'm really enjoying rubbing it in though! Only kidding, well.........

Ciao

ash x

Queuing

noreply@blogger.com (Ashleigh Drew) — Sat, 07 Feb 2009 08:55:00 +0000

I know it's our age old tradition in Britain. We like to queue, there is something nationally precise about our queuing etiquette.

Here - Italians hate queuing. They have to have a system that dishes out numbers so that everyone can stand along the front of the meat counter and not feel like they're in a queue, although they have to wait until their number comes up.

Now in some shops this means your entrances to vicinities can be strategically chosen. For instance, this week I went into our local baker, 200 metres away (I love that), and I chose to enter through the door that was closest to the ticket dispensing machine. This turned out to be a stroke of genius because - I was next. There was no question about it, the place had one old lady in there before me and nobody else, so I took my ticket, no. 66.

Now old ladies love taking their time in bakers, despite hating having to spend any time in there if they're not the one ordering! So there was ample time for two women to join me and stand right in front of the glass as if they hadn't even seen me. So, the third lady who had entered protested that she was the rightful next customer to be served once the old lady had finished. Well, just as my blood was boiling I said in my best Italian:
'Sono prima',
that means 'I'm first' and as the lady looked as me as if to say, 'Oh you're really going to take me on?', the bakery lady asked me:

'What number does your ticket say?'.
I said '66'.

And then she asked the other lady:

'What number does your ticket say?'
and she said 'Well 67'.

Ha ! Sooooo not only did I take her on, I beat her at her own pseudo queuing game. Oh and the lady who hadn't taken a ticket at all, well, she was completely screwed!

There are serious queuing issues for old people here. It seems their desperation of running out of time is really brought to the surface when faced with a supermarket queue. I don't know if they're thinking they're wasting what time they have left but I do know there are some definite rules as to how to get in front of the cue.

Rule 1. Annoy the person in front as much as possible in the hope that you annoy them enough to get them to move to another cue altogether.
Rule 2. Count and inspect the produce the people in front are buying as if to say 'Well I have a third of what you have so why should I waste my precise minutes for your greed!' This can also be accompanied with a look of disgust - it's pretty effective.
Rule 3. Stick close. You can really get on someone's nerves if every time they take a step forward your breathing down their neck. (Having said that most old ladies are really small here, so it's more like breathing down their backs?!)

Anyway those are the ones I'm aware of, and they seemed to be used to good effect!

Ciao