tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2965244612689881572024-03-07T18:20:34.033-08:00Adventures of a misguided 30 somethingHannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17584793709826115219noreply@blogger.comBlogger39125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296524461268988157.post-55208851672720288642008-05-06T07:13:00.001-07:002008-05-06T07:15:28.875-07:00Service off-airI'm readjusting, which is proving to be an adventure in itself. <a href="http://hannahgsrehab.blogspot.com/">Tune in here.</a>Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17584793709826115219noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296524461268988157.post-1598459998372627772008-04-27T11:01:00.000-07:002008-04-28T02:48:41.240-07:00End of the roadI'm back, if you can call it that as I'm not sure what to or where.... but I'm in the UK, or to be more precise, at my Dad's house in Montrose. What a journey. Ten hours late into Edinburgh after my first plane's left engine failed on take off and my second plane pottered around in Atlanta for a little while, causing me to miss the next onward connection north. It took around 30 hours which I think is longer than the flight to New Zealand! But it did mean I went into Paris yesterday morning; I headed to the river and to Notre Dame on what was a beautiful spring day. <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/10618273@N00/sets/72157604770258108/">Here are the pics.</a> <div><br /></div><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4qvuNeaniu0jj9Cy-8IeEufccIfZSIT6AbA-dIXGuojzJw5PTxNL-JxE-7XGmfz5MhbLjezAob2JvrOdYAOD8Ajosrod086qLlwelzd48_EPshn0e7J9QJvQquczH02qd9IkWDtK4LLk/s1600-h/IMG_2417.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194228222469365346" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4qvuNeaniu0jj9Cy-8IeEufccIfZSIT6AbA-dIXGuojzJw5PTxNL-JxE-7XGmfz5MhbLjezAob2JvrOdYAOD8Ajosrod086qLlwelzd48_EPshn0e7J9QJvQquczH02qd9IkWDtK4LLk/s200/IMG_2417.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigj_BLLYD7e9ICqNCWtKIrKhndFkX-hWo8Vth1_RLB-TlEwRoChqmmMMTWpHHwJxgaUNetmJ_mD-0Ye37-w-DJX3Gmxpvyz51-ksBctx2bWrZTz7HCaVlSqL5zAitUT2HCMysV7vSbxYg/s1600-h/IMG_2412.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194228213879430738" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigj_BLLYD7e9ICqNCWtKIrKhndFkX-hWo8Vth1_RLB-TlEwRoChqmmMMTWpHHwJxgaUNetmJ_mD-0Ye37-w-DJX3Gmxpvyz51-ksBctx2bWrZTz7HCaVlSqL5zAitUT2HCMysV7vSbxYg/s200/IMG_2412.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI3k4bR3ysJakO-85S53KuGc0QUuHiOlIAtPxUnU4GpJL5WxUHbMOKGtuOvWtfTjYEE97HbvEpMdvgE76_V4WRLmxxDzYQ58QwH4v4jP4s3X11tSS3L8NXaZx0SWf-3ORcXdbu3o2O24I/s1600-h/IMG_2404.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194228226764332658" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI3k4bR3ysJakO-85S53KuGc0QUuHiOlIAtPxUnU4GpJL5WxUHbMOKGtuOvWtfTjYEE97HbvEpMdvgE76_V4WRLmxxDzYQ58QwH4v4jP4s3X11tSS3L8NXaZx0SWf-3ORcXdbu3o2O24I/s200/IMG_2404.JPG" border="0" /></a> The first thing that hit me was how busy the streets were, there were people <em>everywhere</em>. After five months in the land of the motor car, it was a real joy to see all the street life. I've missed it so much. Just walking around the streets of the Ile de France, you can sense all the history and culture. And there's so much style. Instead of an enormous cookie-dough blizzard ice-cream in a plastic cup from Dairy Queen, you get real glace, one small scoop in a waffle cone, served from a small cafe on a street corner where you can stop and watch the world go by.<br /></div><div> </div><div>I love Europe. I got used to Salt Lake, but it's not a city, it's a 30 mile long suburban sprawl with a few malls dotted here and there. Here are a few biased pictures to illustrate my point, including drive-through ATMs. They should be banned! Truly, you never really have to leave your car in Salt Lake. </div><div><br /></div><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXsMG2wFtLc9GsWNleWdVscCa9NqFOj3RtYalwbFlMisNvCL2TBeOfv918Bdf3qaoMeJuYUdZ-GbeTw0bzgCAbt95ygVeXq9WWcFc_rxF9l2xzVgNPclI9VZgiD8MZQPE6MoRoOcPFYdM/s1600-h/IMG_1773.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194229571089096322" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXsMG2wFtLc9GsWNleWdVscCa9NqFOj3RtYalwbFlMisNvCL2TBeOfv918Bdf3qaoMeJuYUdZ-GbeTw0bzgCAbt95ygVeXq9WWcFc_rxF9l2xzVgNPclI9VZgiD8MZQPE6MoRoOcPFYdM/s200/IMG_1773.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg73mCKUnNnqK4aMpbMfd_dcSvun4SilCMS7quxkg0nZSUIpKbkI0EW8phzFFImoowwNCQBVXbXnQdkOBNClu_JUht9W_lDAJa6TU4EXIiVbxIJ2l6sRe5vOX1d9-_IZgNrPk72JXnAyvk/s1600-h/IMG_1768.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194229622628703906" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg73mCKUnNnqK4aMpbMfd_dcSvun4SilCMS7quxkg0nZSUIpKbkI0EW8phzFFImoowwNCQBVXbXnQdkOBNClu_JUht9W_lDAJa6TU4EXIiVbxIJ2l6sRe5vOX1d9-_IZgNrPk72JXnAyvk/s200/IMG_1768.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhahj8f-YXV6YyzYyVPTjUMiPBRWeAB2RCt_xKljXL0f2WQ96gP4YsOaHa6L-oulKrML7B7trWZ5C3jJk2ao_JifsF8ptRYDzmUzZ86OzPZgRURcsWDGCQiYCNfCqHB52-sYEWGKk6UgsU/s1600-h/IMG_2157.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194229575384063634" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhahj8f-YXV6YyzYyVPTjUMiPBRWeAB2RCt_xKljXL0f2WQ96gP4YsOaHa6L-oulKrML7B7trWZ5C3jJk2ao_JifsF8ptRYDzmUzZ86OzPZgRURcsWDGCQiYCNfCqHB52-sYEWGKk6UgsU/s200/IMG_2157.JPG" border="0" /></a> There's a saying, I think attributed to George Bernard Shaw: "we are two nations, divided by a common language." I reckon there's way more that divides us than just the language. It's been interesting to live in the most individualistic country in the world - and I say that having lived in predominantly Mormon Utah. I'd love to see more of the USA. It's just so vast. I can understand why less than 30% of Americans hold passports: just seeing and knowing their own country would take a long time. I found some interesting comments on this when trying to find the exact stat for US passport holders, <a href="http://www.vagablogging.net/03-09/americans-are-nomadically-challenged.html">have a read if you're interested</a>. I agree with Johnathan.</div><div><br /></div><div>And so, there ends the adventures for now, although I do feel there will be more to come in the not too distant future. It's been so interesting. Life-changing, no; perspective-altering, most definitely. I guess that shift in perspective has the potential to be life-changing though. We shall see! </div><div><br /></div><div>So, time for a new blog; it's going to be about the attempted rehabilitation into 30 something life. I'm going to need something to occupy my time whilst unemployed in Montrose, so just indulge me..... this is where the fun really begins! <a href="http://hannahgsrehab.blogspot.com/">http://hannahgsrehab.blogspot.com/</a></div><div></div>Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17584793709826115219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296524461268988157.post-86474392395297747342008-04-20T07:40:00.000-07:002008-04-20T08:04:27.574-07:00Being 35Feeling reflective this morning. Everyone else is still asleep, I've been woken up by the smoke alarm "peeping". I'm just trying to isolate which one of them is doing the peeping as I sip the last of the coffee.<br /><br />I'm working this afternoon, got another 3 days up at Snowbird and then a couple of days to pack up before I fly out. So it's all pretty much over and I will begin my return to 30 something life in less than a week.<br /><br />I can't believe I'm 35 and still behaving like a rock star. I was given this label earlier in the week by a very lovely guy called Ben and I like it. There's been a little bit of misbehaving since my birthday and it's been so much fun, I'll always have it in me.<br /><br />And it's got me thinking: age really is a state of mind. If I compare life now to four years ago, although I'm making about ten times less than I did in London, I haven't really worried much about money for a year. I know I need to make some again, but it doesn't keep me awake at night. Nor have I worried about Mr Right/ Mr Wrong. Well, not strictly true, but the minor worries I've had about boys (boys being the operative word) are nothing compared to the hours I used to spend fretting about Rogan's lifestyle and how I was going to cope with it. I'm bored senseless at work but I no longer feel it defines who I am; there is no longer the continual sense of failure for not being a "professional" i.e. a doctor or a lawyer or something requiring blood, sweat and tears to qualify. And as for flat prices, I think they've been mentioned in passing, but no more than that. Mind you, I'm still worrying about how fat I'm getting, that anxious behaviour persists and probably always will, it's what I do to try and have some control.<br /><br />I wonder how long it will take for me to get back into the full-blown anxious groove. I hope I won't go there but I know just how easily we mould ourselves to fit the environments we find ourselves in.<br /><br />I think I'm going to start a new blog when I get back, something about assimilating into real life when I have none of the trappings I should have by this age. Might provide an outlet for that anxiety if I turn it into something humorous!Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17584793709826115219noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296524461268988157.post-84528291564172357842008-04-19T20:07:00.000-07:002008-04-20T08:06:43.827-07:00Road trip to the desert<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191161937157523026" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMZFxiUrhp9XPuVjNDyeVXnUxf_X4eGrO2ol3cMloisNAytZ5IewlCbMrmjmKd1bB_CPKsRm8Oz1lSD7o5Cya_7nicvFHNwBHTDwn0MJIY3GSkMcf7w91CxUl1gTLwZWEqVmPTRsbLQw8/s200/IMG_2285.JPG" border="0" />I'm going to let the pictures speak for themselves. Really, there is so much more to the US than rampant consumerism and you don't have to look too far to find it. We've been to 3 national parks in the last few days, <a href="http://www.utah.com/nationalparks/arches.htm">the Arches</a>, the <a href="http://www.nps.gov/grca/">Grand Canyon </a>and <a href="http://www.utah.com/nationalparks/bryce.htm">Bryce Canyon.</a> Truly spectacular. The camping was fun too although I will be pleased to get to my own bed tonight!<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6UQjwRLNShbBj2tgkswLSkxr41ge-VTFLA663AxK7X52Cbz60GnQDgmqoAJGaLQsMKmCCh2UyrDjkb78czsY2Azah71WSv-tFIbdZ3iLHMO9XZBhz5bD78g0wGalOr77Dgt-CJRnIfUs/s1600-h/IMG_2359.JPG"></a></div>There was more than one moment where I was delighted to have my down sleeping bag and thermarest. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzfZh6xa_AceQsrxcMyFOLlJUEyQ5zWprBpTG5U-wW_0upDey-gTPmkWhz_BsabPDsK617848GiEVKXNe1GX5ph9VT0KAyKMC3tmHdG_h8RGWhqBVPkxRAzN4wgszZOGWRC4U5WDCxBcI/s1600-h/IMG_2331.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191162650122094194" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzfZh6xa_AceQsrxcMyFOLlJUEyQ5zWprBpTG5U-wW_0upDey-gTPmkWhz_BsabPDsK617848GiEVKXNe1GX5ph9VT0KAyKMC3tmHdG_h8RGWhqBVPkxRAzN4wgszZOGWRC4U5WDCxBcI/s200/IMG_2331.JPG" border="0" /></a>Probably the best one though was seeing Spencer emerge this morning, having got up three times during the night to blow up his 3 dollar lilo. Oh my, he looked a very unhappy boy.... <a href="http://www.flickr.com/gp/10618273@N00/0RMe06">Lots more pics here. </a><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6UQjwRLNShbBj2tgkswLSkxr41ge-VTFLA663AxK7X52Cbz60GnQDgmqoAJGaLQsMKmCCh2UyrDjkb78czsY2Azah71WSv-tFIbdZ3iLHMO9XZBhz5bD78g0wGalOr77Dgt-CJRnIfUs/s1600-h/IMG_2359.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191161095343932994" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6UQjwRLNShbBj2tgkswLSkxr41ge-VTFLA663AxK7X52Cbz60GnQDgmqoAJGaLQsMKmCCh2UyrDjkb78czsY2Azah71WSv-tFIbdZ3iLHMO9XZBhz5bD78g0wGalOr77Dgt-CJRnIfUs/s200/IMG_2359.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6UQjwRLNShbBj2tgkswLSkxr41ge-VTFLA663AxK7X52Cbz60GnQDgmqoAJGaLQsMKmCCh2UyrDjkb78czsY2Azah71WSv-tFIbdZ3iLHMO9XZBhz5bD78g0wGalOr77Dgt-CJRnIfUs/s1600-h/IMG_2359.JPG"></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6UQjwRLNShbBj2tgkswLSkxr41ge-VTFLA663AxK7X52Cbz60GnQDgmqoAJGaLQsMKmCCh2UyrDjkb78czsY2Azah71WSv-tFIbdZ3iLHMO9XZBhz5bD78g0wGalOr77Dgt-CJRnIfUs/s1600-h/IMG_2359.JPG"></a>Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17584793709826115219noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296524461268988157.post-85429684718794453302008-03-29T20:06:00.000-07:002008-03-29T20:46:51.215-07:00Mormon Mums on meth?I'm at home tonight feeling a bit hot and woozy. Hoping some Airborne will fight it off, that and the slug of Canadian whiskey. So I thought I'd share my thoughts on the latest crazy Utah story; the high incidence of drug use in the Mormon State.<br /><br />My friend Jane's mum is head teacher at an elementary school in St George, South Utah, and she has been specially trained to detect signs of meth use in her staff. Apparently, meth abuse can happen amongst Mormon women in particular. What other drug allows you to stay awake for days so you can manage to be the perfect Mormon wife and look after your husband and many high-achieving children? I've been looking for evidence to support this anecdote but so far can't find much. It sounds like a bit of myth, although the incidence of meth use amongst women in Utah does appear to be high. The state ranks 2nd nationally for the percentage of females arrested who test positive for meth. But I'm sure they're not the religious married Mums.<br /><br /><br />One of the entries in urban dictionary defines Utah as: <em>"home of the 4 Ms. Mormons, meth labs, mountains and mini-vans." </em>Funny.<br /><br /><br />What I am more willing to believe is the abuse of prescription drugs amongst these women. They're acceptable. You go to your doctor to get them. They help you get through the day. Wasn't Valium always mother's little helper? And doctors just encourage the use of medication. I found this extract in a Mormon magazine.<br /><br /><em>My friend recently went for a physical and her doctor said her problems were stress-related. He suggested a muscle relaxant and a tranquilizer.</em><br /><br />Isn't it a crazy world when we think that some pills are going to cover up what's actually going on? Well, they do. But that's all they do. The problems are still there.<br /><br />The article then goes on to advise: <em>Look for ways to get to the source of your problem instead of covering the symptoms with medication. {My friend} declined medication and instead tried relaxation tapes, meditation, and counseling which helped get the underlying problems under control. She also finds daily walks therapeutic and has decreased the number of commitments that were causing her stress. Jan Jones said that watching a river or the waves on the lake is wonderful therapy for her. Hobbies such as ceramics or water-color are also good. Mary Smith said, “I used to be so caught up in service I ignored my own needs. Now I add to my list the question ‘what am I doing for me?’ A little pampering is a must for any woman! “</em><br /><em></em><br />Now, whether ceramics is really the answer is another question.... but what is good about a religion that encourages perfection and overdosing on good deeds? You have to look after yourself before you can look after others.<br /><br />Doing my homework for this also led me to this blog, <a href="http://www.nataliercollins.com/weblog/2008/02/28/will-they-sell-stupid-at-the-local-stores-in-place-of-alcopop/">Living Behind the Zion Curtain. </a>In this entry, she's talking about the church's campaign against alcopops, amongst other things. I liked this bit in particular.<br /><br /><em>FYI, the above article I quoted notes that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints has joined THE FIGHT AGAINST ALCOPOP. I swear, what would we do without the Mormons? Meth use is RAMPANT in Utah, but by all means put your very large, very rich shoulder behind the INHERENT DANGERS of alcopop, which despite anyone’s belief is VERY STRONGLY REGULATED, and forget that children are being raised in hazardous waste bins–aka homes that are used for meth labs–in a very REAL and actually dangerous phenomenon. Where is the LDS CHURCH in the fight against METH? How about the fight against AIDS or CANCER? </em><br /><br /><em>No, by all means, let’s take a stance against alcopop. </em><br /><br />Quite.Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17584793709826115219noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296524461268988157.post-65122180740737640792008-03-21T07:24:00.000-07:002008-03-21T07:33:36.629-07:00Never mind the what, let's just deal with the where...My navel-gazing at what I'm going to do next has of course produced some interesting commentary, which is really making me laugh.<br /><br />Why do we humans have a tendency to look at things as black and white, as absolutes, when they are almost always shades of grey?<br /><br />I definitely do this. I wanted to share Greig's thoughts on location which are still making me laugh now. He is of course correct.<br /><br /><em>All I can say is it's not necessarily london = decadence, the mother country = healthy living, and certainly not much sign of healthy living during my sweep of the 'hotties' galumping around Glasgow Central yesterday... HANNAH GRANT YOU'D BE APPALLED!!! Or are you going to tell me you've become less judgemental during Utah time?</em><br /><em></em><br />Of course I haven't.<br /><br />I've met this great guy from Bridge of Don here, he's spent time in Peterhead and Fraserburgh, he grew up in the north-east too. And of course it's not all rolling hills and fishing communities and ceilidhs. Oh no. The north-east of Scotland has one of the biggest heroin problems in Europe. Lee knows a couple of people who've died from shooting up. That's the reality. Poverty, boredom, few aspirations in life..... a life on the rigs or on the boats followed by blowing it all on a cheap escape when they're back on shore.<br /><br />Maybe Brighton is indeed a better option for a bleeding heart liberal like me. (That's the Republican view of my politics!)Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17584793709826115219noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296524461268988157.post-79342635101465175802008-03-18T09:47:00.001-07:002008-03-18T10:09:54.307-07:00What next?All I can think about at the moment is that I'll be back home in another 6 weeks or so. And then what on earth am I going to do? Something shifted after the Vegas trip: before then I was fully engrossed in the fairy mountain world experience, life had shifted down to a simple pattern of work/ski/work/ski/a few beers/'hang out' /ski/ repeat. I think part of the thrill with skiing is you get so focused on it that you forget there's a world outside the mountain.<br /><br /><br />But there is, and it's rapidly approaching. At the moment it feels a little bit like this. A huge black hole. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0_PPJ4cK7ioqRD9BPz52QhphtFDbVWEZVG8EOaneEX2xHZ5Gu2_-1WgiFsuEskvfLvXmT5kdmQbsYykCFt6MlnbQKW7ku0FraAVt1vYiagpXxQXrWV4agVP5V-TCWLsEfALI_nA8Mjro/s1600-h/black-hole.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179128802251949202" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0_PPJ4cK7ioqRD9BPz52QhphtFDbVWEZVG8EOaneEX2xHZ5Gu2_-1WgiFsuEskvfLvXmT5kdmQbsYykCFt6MlnbQKW7ku0FraAVt1vYiagpXxQXrWV4agVP5V-TCWLsEfALI_nA8Mjro/s200/black-hole.jpg" border="0" /></a>I'm scared as opposed to excited, although that does depend on how tired and emotional I'm feeling. A little less emotional at the moment because I cut out the source of the confusion post-Vegas (Tamsin: I know that last post was boring... and so obviously a gloss! I've been forgetting I'm not 25 anymore.)<br /><br /><br /><br />I'm not even sure what I want. I've had enough of the transient travelling life - yet again, I've met some wonderful people here and yet again, I'm leaving them. It's too heart-breaking to continue. At the same time, the thought of the end of the adventures seems so dull.<br /><br /><br />I guess the trick is to view the next part of life as an adventure too as I try to get settled somewhere other than London, most likely the motherland. It makes sense. Outdoor living, my little nephew, all my siblings and my Mum and Dad are there. And I'm sure I'll be able to drag the urbanites up for some weekends of healthy living. Or they'll drag me down to the smoke for weekends of decadence which is more likely as I try and fail to live up to my self-imposed good girl standards.<br /><br /><br />What am I going to do when I can't ski 5 days a week? I've been so spoilt. I couldn't do this forever though; it's far too self-indulgent. Life is bigger than just me and what I want to do.<br /><br /><br />In a month's time, Toby would have been 30. I've been thinking about him a lot recently and about the whole Borneo experience. I'm not quite sure why I was spared and he died. He was way more committed to doing something bigger than him than I am! I think the universe got that choice wrong somewhere.... well, we'll see. I promised myself I'd make my time on this earth count after being with him when he died, and the time is approaching to fulfill that in some way.<br /><br /><br />So, answers on a postcard please!Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17584793709826115219noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296524461268988157.post-78793455240346766062008-03-06T18:02:00.000-08:002008-03-06T18:55:43.216-08:00Viva Las VegasI haven't written for a month now which just goes to show how much working and skiing has been consuming my life. Well, mostly... there has of course been some other consumption going on as well. And where better to consume than Las Vegas.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN7XcsZ195wnlgNujltBbSK9g7wkiaosgadKn2XqKC8huFiT3WfA92YFxee2cgf_Gwq-R-_AmH5wjde2X3Rzn_qX88LtNvEgYMJT3EFXbgiauBwHiiQ0gBuH3Gc33HyksUQgHuChJaa7Q/s1600-h/IMG_1950.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174822681578766690" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN7XcsZ195wnlgNujltBbSK9g7wkiaosgadKn2XqKC8huFiT3WfA92YFxee2cgf_Gwq-R-_AmH5wjde2X3Rzn_qX88LtNvEgYMJT3EFXbgiauBwHiiQ0gBuH3Gc33HyksUQgHuChJaa7Q/s200/IMG_1950.JPG" border="0" /></a>I have never been anywhere like Vegas - it really does live up to its reputation. Flashy and trashy and at times even quite classy, which surprised me. Fourteen of the twenty largest hotels in the world are in Vegas.<br /><br /><br /><br />Check this out; it's modelled on Venice, surprisingly enough. It's so cheesy it's good. There's even a fake St Mark's Square. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhrAWBlN2SvxyMCi2OQZLNBB_-f2N08TcebAxBJ2t-kaxiqM7G1QsxYdfFuI5wYnq8wcIGdpiLYbGHv3_rFfYjiPyMGjvV66_nejP0xW5ydCAqKPUKg1vrDd0MGbOPefJdEEVJ3tTNILs/s1600-h/IMG_1945.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174822677283799378" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhrAWBlN2SvxyMCi2OQZLNBB_-f2N08TcebAxBJ2t-kaxiqM7G1QsxYdfFuI5wYnq8wcIGdpiLYbGHv3_rFfYjiPyMGjvV66_nejP0xW5ydCAqKPUKg1vrDd0MGbOPefJdEEVJ3tTNILs/s200/IMG_1945.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The strip never sleeps. At midnight, it feels like 8pm. There are working girls everywhere and serious mutton dressed as lamb. And the vibe just encourages misbehaving. I'd like to say I didn't, but of course that would be a lie. Marc had to take me for a bloody mary the day we drove out to the Hoover Dam. I was shaking and nauseous and vowing never, ever, again. It was great to go there with him: he lived and worked there for 3 years and really was a fantastic tour guide, if a little too cheeky at times! <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhza7oj0aJhW802xYt7t53zjItRMWrai3NTlRTdo3OARtcr7wm_fXN2bfhLnn3eLJJ1hJ7CZxXmBoCi9eg2iJK87gmUFKPUVpPSbvRavsiZ5o-xYGxrLVILjzF57ALQ4nV1YCt2vm7DJyY/s1600-h/IMG_1954.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174822690168701314" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhza7oj0aJhW802xYt7t53zjItRMWrai3NTlRTdo3OARtcr7wm_fXN2bfhLnn3eLJJ1hJ7CZxXmBoCi9eg2iJK87gmUFKPUVpPSbvRavsiZ5o-xYGxrLVILjzF57ALQ4nV1YCt2vm7DJyY/s200/IMG_1954.JPG" border="0" /></a>Do you know Americans don't use the word cheeky? I'm told the nearest they have to it is sassy. Doesn't quite have the same ring to it, does it?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPP0CaXsnv1peit-3l0yLiSRUAVN6Cr-rwsQiXYhRsuUSIHXRqGnqYEvRmzOzHTwrN1P8F3NWKipu2yEsXSGYRDnC9Gcr5Djso7HvO847ijqT1YLqdqsmfKus9x6S1dsVLQOz1yK7irSU/s1600-h/IMG_2043.JPG"></a>Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17584793709826115219noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296524461268988157.post-31394429779187941512008-02-08T18:20:00.000-08:002008-02-08T18:51:45.688-08:00Disneyland aka Vail, Colorado<div>Well, Colorado is a long way away. A long way away. In fact, it's the furthest I've ever driven in my life. The amusing part is that Jane didn't want to drive because she was too scared to be on the other side of the road when actually it was way more dangerous to have me driving 8 hours flat in the dark. There were some amusing parts: the best one being followed by the disco lights, aka the Colorado police. "91 mph officer? I was sure I was doing 85. What's the speed limit here?"..... Probably closely followed by having to run around a car park at 2.30am in an effort to stay awake. We made it though.<br /></div><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPXwXzBSo7G_oU42hgkkmR4JJPKUKa4Nt-i8vlgVj8dqoSPxGW5yjxAlAyIHRpU12OxoK6fviGO8ambRksbNdjYXQK1VLBVXRskN3FvP8D7h38UkC8m5K_WKCFwoyYzTcitj2WS5qwalo/s1600-h/100_4093.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164806710367897074" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPXwXzBSo7G_oU42hgkkmR4JJPKUKa4Nt-i8vlgVj8dqoSPxGW5yjxAlAyIHRpU12OxoK6fviGO8ambRksbNdjYXQK1VLBVXRskN3FvP8D7h38UkC8m5K_WKCFwoyYzTcitj2WS5qwalo/s320/100_4093.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Vail is so faux European. I don't know why they've done it like that instead of celebrating their Colorado mining heritage. There are fake Austrian guesthouses, French delis, furs - and lots of rich, obnoxious guests. It's also huge, huge, huge. Just full of wide sweeping runs in the big bowls and also lots of good tree skiing in amongst aspens. Great snow. It just dumped it for two days as you can see. The schools in Eagle County were closed for the first time in 48 years today and the I70 to Denver too. It was back to back trucks for miles on the east side as we headed out west and home over the desert. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwAIvAO6I5ePNcn3ZuHOxa-FAykdLDCqVGk2CTqwSkG9kCxR8TSOjzhXF8T_6XyhKXfPyh5Izc6UWxocmGE2JuzGQ06zAH2TYilYHBPXTj1jTDWuFkpB0Kl55filCxqt9etM6EBDdnLRI/s1600-h/100_3717.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164806693188027874" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwAIvAO6I5ePNcn3ZuHOxa-FAykdLDCqVGk2CTqwSkG9kCxR8TSOjzhXF8T_6XyhKXfPyh5Izc6UWxocmGE2JuzGQ06zAH2TYilYHBPXTj1jTDWuFkpB0Kl55filCxqt9etM6EBDdnLRI/s320/100_3717.JPG" border="0" /></a>So great to see Jesse. He was such a good host. I said to him this morning that when you travel, you meet people you really like and never expect to see them again. And yet here we were, in his condo in Vail. Here we are at the bus stop. Russ, he's grown a dodgy tache. You need to have a word. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div>Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17584793709826115219noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296524461268988157.post-2606950016989357322008-02-08T17:56:00.000-08:002008-02-08T18:17:56.203-08:00Let it snow<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb1ck8bSC0LJc4uU-1dNLHLQBT_BZx9xoHmWlpNPsEi5yUC8rXhBiw6vm13uT5BtrWqEb6Gax87mkJ_ur-zbepVSvqWEUwY5LdmikeA-i5O2WcOSypYUiroMpX1ts9WrxENIAI639d3m0/s1600-h/842.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164798850577745362" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb1ck8bSC0LJc4uU-1dNLHLQBT_BZx9xoHmWlpNPsEi5yUC8rXhBiw6vm13uT5BtrWqEb6Gax87mkJ_ur-zbepVSvqWEUwY5LdmikeA-i5O2WcOSypYUiroMpX1ts9WrxENIAI639d3m0/s320/842.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>It's true what they say about Utah. It really does have the best snow on earth; we have had 100 inches in the last ten days. I know, incredible. We're getting blase about it. I even missed first lifts the other day after nearly 10 inches overnight. In fairness, I hadn't realised it was going to be that good, it had been howling a gale overnight. Thought I'd add one of the pics from our website. You see this sort of stuff on the brochures but you never experience it in real life - unless you're here. And we have the terrain to match - the mountain really is awesome. I must take some pics (or steal some from Jane and Spencer which is the more likely option as I am too lazy to get my camera out on the slopes.) </div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div>Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17584793709826115219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296524461268988157.post-79675458502573283942008-01-22T22:47:00.001-08:002008-01-22T22:54:57.420-08:00I just love facebookThis has nothing to do with Salt Lake, skiing, or the USA. But I feel the urge to say just how much I love facebook. I've just got lost in it yet again..... I've been looking at Shelley's pics of her sister's wedding, discovering TC has persuaded someone to marry him and stumbling across pics of me on my windsurfing holiday in Vassiliki where I met the best bunch of northerners ever.<br /><br />It's so good. It's just effortless to keep in touch. I love it. I don't know how I lived without it.<br /><br />That's all.<br /><br />Oh, and an update on the party theme: went to an 80s night on Thursday. It was funny. It would have been Lucy 'dancing queen' Melly's dream. Of course we old bastards knew pretty much all the songs too. The venue is holding a fetish night in a couple of weeks so Salt Lake can't be that straight. I suspect if you scratch under the surface there's loads of naughtiness; there must be, it's all so squeaky on the outside.Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17584793709826115219noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296524461268988157.post-2853791722371489092008-01-07T22:44:00.001-08:002008-01-07T22:58:24.290-08:00Party capital part 3So off we went tonight for $1 dollar margaritas. Of course the bar is so far away we have to drive, so convince Sarah to lend me her car; she agrees even after I drove it into a snow bank the other night. I agree to be the 'dd', I'm so keen to go out I'm prepared to forgo the alcohol, which is quite frankly a miracle. Jane and I put on make-up and the nicest clothes we can find.<br /><br />Find the bar which turns out to be a restaurant and we have nine margaritas between six of us for just $9. Getting a good buzz on (love this term, very American!) when the boss realises our table is drinking <em>without food.</em> Shock, horror, anti-Utah drinking laws. So off we go on a drugs run to the State Liquor Store to make our own.<br /><br />Arrive back at our new friends' place, talk bears, Alaska, rafting, rivers and tele skiing, marvel at the axe in their bathroom and drink serious amounts of tequila (well, Spencer and Jane did, I am having my reward of Baileys now).<br /><br />It was so much fun. Yes, things are looking up in the party capital.Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17584793709826115219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296524461268988157.post-20140513048993963622008-01-05T11:08:00.000-08:002008-01-05T21:04:08.436-08:00Party capital part 2Guess what else. In Utah, you're not allowed to buy two drinks for yourself at once. You can only have one in your hand at any one time. Wow.<br /><br />Went to this bar the other night with a guy from work - it was a real bar with loads of people and live music and came complete with a few white American hip hop kids; backwards baseball caps, baggy trousers, white chunky trainers. It was so good to be properly out, I can only go so long without an injection of nightlife. Of course we drove there, it was in the middle of nowhere. The locals either have 'dds' (designated drivers) or they take their chances; seems they take their chances more often than not judging by the amount of cars in the parking lot.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6cIF-m9PSVDZWehXmUFLrXsIzVy5ISrY8B0cyy5_DPRXaANJv5Xq9mHVrECbJgUJyQcblJi0JmlQUJ6WSvgPgJTmFKEvfPo-BK1fz_kL24YFt5qSNjAae_AHdIpMZxNQ90eJSD_9EKb0/s1600-h/IMG_1814.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152221509402188930" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6cIF-m9PSVDZWehXmUFLrXsIzVy5ISrY8B0cyy5_DPRXaANJv5Xq9mHVrECbJgUJyQcblJi0JmlQUJ6WSvgPgJTmFKEvfPo-BK1fz_kL24YFt5qSNjAae_AHdIpMZxNQ90eJSD_9EKb0/s320/IMG_1814.JPG" border="0" /></a>Last night I ended up at this enormous house just at the mouth of the canyons, belonging to some guy's grandparents who are in South Utah for the winter. This picture doesn't even begin to do it justice. It was so 70s flashy but pretty cool at the same time; they have a games room in the basement with pool table and pinball machine. Grandpa owns a car dealership. In fact it really was a bit like the Gilhespie's pad; very footballer's wives. There was even a statue of a Greek God in the bathroom complete with fig leaf. We drank Grand Marnier - much nicer than slugs of Jagermeister at the back of the employee van.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH-QSlrshwEKThHtnfNOfrXYOaq6P8LqbyUmCWEhBhnQUigJW0klAv6VaxWEzrUAAnncCkA8UWzBTDJXkHpjACAWm1C9OMHNb0tq5_mHpDFwm0xi9o02UL1n-OkvSKcfmgGzLQJ61Gf_I/s1600-h/IMG_1818.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152221517992123538" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH-QSlrshwEKThHtnfNOfrXYOaq6P8LqbyUmCWEhBhnQUigJW0klAv6VaxWEzrUAAnncCkA8UWzBTDJXkHpjACAWm1C9OMHNb0tq5_mHpDFwm0xi9o02UL1n-OkvSKcfmgGzLQJ61Gf_I/s320/IMG_1818.JPG" border="0" /></a> And look at the view over the valley in the morning. We're in the middle of a 3 day storm; couldn't get up the canyon at all today so I had an excuse for not being the brightest of sparks this morning.<br /><br />I've been invited to shoot guns. I feel this is a cultural experience I just can't turn down. Let's hope it materialises!Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17584793709826115219noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296524461268988157.post-18741518135715564572007-12-31T23:02:00.000-08:002007-12-31T23:53:37.850-08:00Party capital of Utah - Salt Lake City<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4xX1oMb0N0JEWPbkGGqtTRqnWLqmteGKxJnMOqjCRV2b9ReMO8lbfIB-ptrd5F2GvXwv8DGRx05CefOtxQTe22xCxnzCz5rC22oeuZTX2fCeTOB3eeHs34J1hou_DwYzwiH4PE4AsBfc/s1600-h/2154031156_12b456aa9c_m.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4xX1oMb0N0JEWPbkGGqtTRqnWLqmteGKxJnMOqjCRV2b9ReMO8lbfIB-ptrd5F2GvXwv8DGRx05CefOtxQTe22xCxnzCz5rC22oeuZTX2fCeTOB3eeHs34J1hou_DwYzwiH4PE4AsBfc/s200/2154031156_12b456aa9c_m.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150410918693919842" border="0" /></a>So, here we are. New Year's, and we're drinking sherry after the futile expedition to find some party somewhere in this godforsaken Mormon city.<br /><br />It started well. El Chanate, dollar tacos, 12 dollar jugs with a good few lifties, ticket checkers and mountain school peeps, courtesy of Jane. We watched a lovely torchlight procession down the mountain followed by some uneventful fireworks (which we didn't see because we were standing at the counter trying to sort our bill. This took over 30 mins.)<br /><br />We then jumped in the employee van, having first succeeded in getting it unstuck out of the snow, and were joined by some merry campers slugging beer and Jagermeister. At this point it was still looking good.<br /><br />Exit at the bars. First up, the Porcupine. Which is actually a restaurant. Ditched that and went to the Canyon Inn. Just 10 dollars entrance, including membership for 3 weeks (this is Utah). Brian (the server) advised us to go elsewhere. Half an hour walk down a dingy, dark, winding road - pee stops required - to find the Hogs Wallow. Closed. Here are the two guys who refused to let us in.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeLVkO9n7pU1igdOtpCfbkICQ0N38PcCizSyZ8bFPbxe6-hVINxqWO5NVGlMoszg8KrKIQWxvxz3AmThFzr5bWsRAPS0sIdspUaGuYR5BIL3N4cqsZO6i8u0OksDfCs5QQuJ9R4dbtSL8/s1600-h/IMG_1799.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeLVkO9n7pU1igdOtpCfbkICQ0N38PcCizSyZ8bFPbxe6-hVINxqWO5NVGlMoszg8KrKIQWxvxz3AmThFzr5bWsRAPS0sIdspUaGuYR5BIL3N4cqsZO6i8u0OksDfCs5QQuJ9R4dbtSL8/s200/IMG_1799.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150407680288578610" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh63QzGQltwisqJu1VT0_vhFiZaifdIp69WFeLue0PrI0O7xYB-0vaKHwGWhMYHCZNtXDvXVnznX59MhkwUGbyjZlGXoXq7a36UgOzyX-Zn6zXqW-UAlfLQ5V0wsLnJVWgoJM7v9yXrGGw/s1600-h/100_3422.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh63QzGQltwisqJu1VT0_vhFiZaifdIp69WFeLue0PrI0O7xYB-0vaKHwGWhMYHCZNtXDvXVnznX59MhkwUGbyjZlGXoXq7a36UgOzyX-Zn6zXqW-UAlfLQ5V0wsLnJVWgoJM7v9yXrGGw/s200/100_3422.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150410154189741122" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBfGKn2kWc11cHFTwiZRtwF0CVTiFlf7xQjpF1pk-P3gMLqMqaz_uXEdo_IsWGY4zbt052WE-uGVcYQbw_nvJtULRRlDiN5re4i-Rh7c4K-mraF8TnkgSPXbiMkQ9CZ9OGMw7BO7S9NM4/s1600-h/100_3426.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBfGKn2kWc11cHFTwiZRtwF0CVTiFlf7xQjpF1pk-P3gMLqMqaz_uXEdo_IsWGY4zbt052WE-uGVcYQbw_nvJtULRRlDiN5re4i-Rh7c4K-mraF8TnkgSPXbiMkQ9CZ9OGMw7BO7S9NM4/s200/100_3426.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150410158484708434" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />So, we then walked half an hour back. Attempted to buy bourbon. Failed, only 3.2 lager allowed as we weren't eating. Met random colleague Ben and his 2 friends from San Fran and Miami who were dressed in suit jackets whilst we were in our scussy ski clothes. Only a back shot of them I'm afraid.<br /><br />Left Porcupine for the mission home. Long, dark, cold, icy footpaths. No people. Anywhere. Apart from dodgy guy and Daisy the lost dog. 45 mins later, we come across The Huddle, Sports Bar recommended by Ben. 8 TV screens, 8 different sports. Attendance = 15. Membership = 5 dollars. IDed again (Score).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF1nSW1YgewS-mlkwlLD230g-91RP2bwCJLrDvE2FqRTTqY55eKK9SrIC7I4S4niBKAtwOy4LYMXTmOSLz57At4y8xkEPBI2vSVtsK29dLEDI1_An0nwNiWb3Y1zVbptSCFOXM-Tphezg/s1600-h/IMG_1805.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF1nSW1YgewS-mlkwlLD230g-91RP2bwCJLrDvE2FqRTTqY55eKK9SrIC7I4S4niBKAtwOy4LYMXTmOSLz57At4y8xkEPBI2vSVtsK29dLEDI1_An0nwNiWb3Y1zVbptSCFOXM-Tphezg/s200/IMG_1805.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150407169187470354" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLAJhud71k6o6gFijaqeAZuqS-R2Pw5k3WOZLIys5QSHHknid6y7zi7eSTMPeb8TK5m-BrLzLE0WyC3DyqPTg5fY9oJiXr75dkwB2yFEeVbjGTNxwxaKsn0Y-ZAFFUiUd966Fw8dpHYIw/s1600-h/IMG_1803.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLAJhud71k6o6gFijaqeAZuqS-R2Pw5k3WOZLIys5QSHHknid6y7zi7eSTMPeb8TK5m-BrLzLE0WyC3DyqPTg5fY9oJiXr75dkwB2yFEeVbjGTNxwxaKsn0Y-ZAFFUiUd966Fw8dpHYIw/s200/IMG_1803.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150407173482437666" border="0" /></a><br />Left again for another mission home, decided to ditch Maggies (another recommended bar) for another day. So over it. So in need of a sherry. Arrive home with 15mins to spare to midnight. ROCK AND ROLL.<br /><br />It's true. In Utah, the snow and the mountain is amazing, the nightlife is shit. So we're getting up early tomorrow and heading up the hill.<br /><br />This will be the first New Year's in 6 years that I've not completely overdone it to the extent I've felt awful for a week but had stories to dine out on for way more than that. It feels a little strange! This is what I wanted, but it's all just a bit boring. Please live it up for me in London, at least a little!Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17584793709826115219noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296524461268988157.post-80253237076879743992007-12-25T17:39:00.001-08:002007-12-25T18:12:34.240-08:00ChristmasIt's been a very different Christmas for me this year. I miss family Grant. So far, there's been no stress in the kitchen, no talking over each other in an effort to make ourselves heard, no inappropriate confessions of our sins over the family dinner. Instead I'm typing this in the basement with Spencer the house husband checking on the turkey, after a full day's work and a couple of sneaky runs on the hill. I kind of knew I could count on Spence to do the dinner. He not only has the practical skills I lack, he can cook. I just texted him instructions this morning and hey presto, a full dinner appears. Score.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif3ZIh5voQs4uuqnBdPhPEMAIvbxtdjedbm58NohaihGvWNl5UCyFR9I5Cl_qhxnZEo6yVNoHhtt8HMEbyI3p1In6s7juwzF9U-KldIz_lb9hjH-JxqfyP4wTgLpyNgo8FyqfguqlYEcs/s1600-h/IMG_1745.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif3ZIh5voQs4uuqnBdPhPEMAIvbxtdjedbm58NohaihGvWNl5UCyFR9I5Cl_qhxnZEo6yVNoHhtt8HMEbyI3p1In6s7juwzF9U-KldIz_lb9hjH-JxqfyP4wTgLpyNgo8FyqfguqlYEcs/s200/IMG_1745.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5148090467438519810" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdxxGiDj8CCUWYv4NUpPdUZL8z1KuLYe9CVGHAPVoKhp8Y4LYLT6a35UnR_RA5z74j-ejK0XGPAlVeRMhNnjADJJuwb54hPUJLbvWs6UTqDP1pvYqRsITwBkfjNNgTC_XPaOgy8IINPPY/s1600-h/IMG_1716.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdxxGiDj8CCUWYv4NUpPdUZL8z1KuLYe9CVGHAPVoKhp8Y4LYLT6a35UnR_RA5z74j-ejK0XGPAlVeRMhNnjADJJuwb54hPUJLbvWs6UTqDP1pvYqRsITwBkfjNNgTC_XPaOgy8IINPPY/s200/IMG_1716.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5148092400173803042" border="0" /></a>So, what do you think of the illuminated Joseph, Mary and baby Jesus? Jesus has a new blanket over him after the foot of snow we got last night. Here they are in context too, in front of the dome with the snowmen that blows fake snow around. Yes, I know. Scary.<br /><br />I kind of think these pics are appropriate for my Christmas post. You'll have seen this message before, I'm sure, but I think it's so appropriate, particularly at this time of year. I just love the last line. It reminds me of someone many of you know.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">The paradox of our age</span><br /><br />We have bigger houses, but smaller families;<br />More conveniences but less time;<br />We have more degrees, but less sense;<br />More knowledge, but less judgement;<br />More experts, but more problems;<br />More medicines, but less healthiness.<br /><br />We've been all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble crossing the street to meet the new neighbour.<br />We've built more computers to hold more information to produce more copies than ever, but have less communication.<br />We have become long on quantity but short on quality.<br />These are times of fast foods but slow digestion;<br />Tall man but short character;<br />Steep profits but shallow relationships.<br />It is a time when there is much in the window, but nothing in the room.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama</span><br /><br />Mum sent me this card, as well as a Santa parcel - four presents, all individually wrapped. Totally unnecessary, but really lovely. My Mum is wonderful, I love her to bits.Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17584793709826115219noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296524461268988157.post-80111908908712741632007-12-19T23:04:00.001-08:002007-12-19T23:12:39.147-08:00Mountains<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2ZwfMOZ9Fx2NhnegOVb4f0sffxSHo-TAwPucgfHQ_8go-Jka0uWbVgATAjybvw2fxonSw_9qkeoov0PuFbhN6UmYdtwnAibcSc18JMma7MuqJKpO-f4xhekeZHqZlpE1Prm0C8-k2TIE/s1600-h/IMG_1718.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145947996017354194" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2ZwfMOZ9Fx2NhnegOVb4f0sffxSHo-TAwPucgfHQ_8go-Jka0uWbVgATAjybvw2fxonSw_9qkeoov0PuFbhN6UmYdtwnAibcSc18JMma7MuqJKpO-f4xhekeZHqZlpE1Prm0C8-k2TIE/s320/IMG_1718.JPG" border="0" /></a> As a counter to the additive post - just look at this mountain. It is so beautiful. And so steep. We're in the middle of a three day storm which should fill up some of the terrain. There is just so much really good skiing here and I doubt I'll even discover half of it this year. Skiing today in about 25cms of fresh snow, even more in places. My legs are killing me from all the back-seat steering I was doing!! I'll get there..... after all, I've got lots of time to practice.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOUJlSmdrdeUFZr1hhZp8W8z0rB0OrzKIfYfpztC2MB9EF5Woi53A7yEocuJejIpgzgsTA8Q42LZ5xae8bOlVU6Fap0UthCsyuaCXGAFVNwpjxQBL1KIj7GeDtknE_KWZ6zPbytQxCzCI/s1600-h/IMG_1722.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145948000312321506" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOUJlSmdrdeUFZr1hhZp8W8z0rB0OrzKIfYfpztC2MB9EF5Woi53A7yEocuJejIpgzgsTA8Q42LZ5xae8bOlVU6Fap0UthCsyuaCXGAFVNwpjxQBL1KIj7GeDtknE_KWZ6zPbytQxCzCI/s320/IMG_1722.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglP8jwm-1T8ZMC8a3J5t0kkftTUC3WUQDXDK3dkF_t02Rf6rdr-C59LvQ4JllG_wBF6fOMvI_d2tZcjUImIMZQirv-R1TYdQU7Emvw28jG83tZysMhPR8xOvOztQJg0fJtRRhNb6ycEcA/s1600-h/IMG_1720.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145948004607288818" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglP8jwm-1T8ZMC8a3J5t0kkftTUC3WUQDXDK3dkF_t02Rf6rdr-C59LvQ4JllG_wBF6fOMvI_d2tZcjUImIMZQirv-R1TYdQU7Emvw28jG83tZysMhPR8xOvOztQJg0fJtRRhNb6ycEcA/s320/IMG_1720.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />And here's my house, first thing in the morning. It's so big. I haven't lived anywhere so large for so little rent for 10 years.Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17584793709826115219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296524461268988157.post-3366822503607912332007-12-19T22:48:00.001-08:002007-12-19T23:03:47.217-08:00Land of the additive<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3nzVPUgFc9RVMoqjHGqCten4JZxAo4iFc6kw9ewDUAvQu16DRy0RZ7oqJsY123W7P1CllFseWFTSLZE6MwLV2kp9h43mP3MtRmSU8_X7vGNEfjunOMRGxKydcvOGJOQ3LUn7UeuCbtDw/s1600-h/IMG_1729.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145943567906072002" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3nzVPUgFc9RVMoqjHGqCten4JZxAo4iFc6kw9ewDUAvQu16DRy0RZ7oqJsY123W7P1CllFseWFTSLZE6MwLV2kp9h43mP3MtRmSU8_X7vGNEfjunOMRGxKydcvOGJOQ3LUn7UeuCbtDw/s320/IMG_1729.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div> </div><div> </div><div>Coffeemate. It's just so vile and it's everywhere. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>How does this sound?: corn syrup solids, vegetable oil, partially hydrogenated coconut or palm kernel, hydrogenated soybean, sodium caseinate, dipotassium phosphate, mon and diglycerides, artificial flavor, annatto color. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Yummy. What's wrong with just milk?<br /></div><div></div><br /><div>I bought some oatmeal the other day (isn't that a much better word than porridge? It just sounds tastier.) Got to work and opened up what I thought was just a box of oats - to find it had multiplied into lots of baby oatmeal sachets. And the ingredients when I looked? Not just oats. Oats, sugar, salt and a whole host of other stabilisers and stuff. Just how can oatmeal be anything but oats? </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Well, at least my food bills shouldn't be too much; it's so hard to find anything au naturel. Just as well really as I got my first pay cheque today: I'm getting paid so little I get a cheque every fortnight. It covers my rent but doesn't even make a dent in all the fantastic new ski kit I've decided is a necessity for this season. Oh well, out will come the cards. It's the American way and I'm embracing it.</div><br /><div></div>Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17584793709826115219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296524461268988157.post-21836378351294821742007-12-04T21:35:00.000-08:002007-12-04T22:10:55.978-08:00Welcome to America<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS923u8nhhQhrmAx9JVe1xHzostx2U3lKAQZu2ln1h9FYHlFOLdZWOx_rUAJBocJO8lioKHh9t3JM_mRZVC3WU5yaa9np7TsfKpwNuvd2aDo8KHrF_OABlUPM5PBYkMdomWSQq-zJ8WTM/s1600-h/IMG_1700.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140361644798543394" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS923u8nhhQhrmAx9JVe1xHzostx2U3lKAQZu2ln1h9FYHlFOLdZWOx_rUAJBocJO8lioKHh9t3JM_mRZVC3WU5yaa9np7TsfKpwNuvd2aDo8KHrF_OABlUPM5PBYkMdomWSQq-zJ8WTM/s200/IMG_1700.JPG" border="0" /></a> I'm in culture shock. Really. I didn't expect it to be quite so different. We speak the same language, but that's really where the similarity ends. (Although I've already been told to remember Utah is not the US. Of course I'm cheerfully ignoring that and doing my usual generalisation thing.)<br /><br /><div></div><div>So... in Salt Lake City, you'll find..... cars. But no ordinary cars. Monster trucks, more monster trucks and yes, more monster trucks. Fancy a little stroll down the High Street for a coffee? <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrYHUewy2OBUI9rVQEfJBo8Oi5b14-H3uY0i8mozdqPFUMAGp-dBfbNYJvLWDbB46GJ4bZdjSp_VPgvbVdFaiuf8BFVdLeIA6FnKhMT1AA8VFH_9DrXBTtbFntgMZUyBADh2ThvLRfbWg/s1600-h/IMG_1697.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140361631913641490" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrYHUewy2OBUI9rVQEfJBo8Oi5b14-H3uY0i8mozdqPFUMAGp-dBfbNYJvLWDbB46GJ4bZdjSp_VPgvbVdFaiuf8BFVdLeIA6FnKhMT1AA8VFH_9DrXBTtbFntgMZUyBADh2ThvLRfbWg/s200/IMG_1697.JPG" border="0" /></a>Forget it. People literally drive everywhere, including from one end of the parking lot to the other. It seems so quiet in the streets but people are around, just in their cars and in the malls. Crossing the road is an adventure all by itself. </div><br /><div>Salt Lake City is huge. It just sprawls for miles and miles along the valley. You can really see why America is so worried about the lack of oil - if we don't find alternative energy sources, they will have to completely rethink their urban planning.</div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHUCW9OovNBYkLAKMXnVX7edBWlYlcKksq8X-KIV9w2o76XTIVctMIcvnNy9Km4qzznEUH5bkKQcpvDGP68yqT0Xj6UKDNj0J7Z_fS2U6hHCYSw3T1PQEnSq6HeD7pa1TVema_ERSagU8/s1600-h/IMG_1703.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140361649093510706" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHUCW9OovNBYkLAKMXnVX7edBWlYlcKksq8X-KIV9w2o76XTIVctMIcvnNy9Km4qzznEUH5bkKQcpvDGP68yqT0Xj6UKDNj0J7Z_fS2U6hHCYSw3T1PQEnSq6HeD7pa1TVema_ERSagU8/s200/IMG_1703.JPG" border="0" /></a>It snowed a couple of days ago and there's a big storm coming this weekend so we're all getting overexcited. I'm still holed up in this crappy motel with my new roommate Spencer; we're getting along just grand considering I'm waking him up every morning at 5.30 to go to work and he's bugging me with (fortunately) mild snoring and a bit of late night post-beer stumbling. Jane arrives in a few days and we'll be camping in our beautiful 5 bed house with garden by Friday. </div><div></div><div> </div><div>Oh, and I forgot to mention my lovely little job in the mountains where I get to talk to people all day and use the posh spa for free. It's all coming together nicely, just as it always does!! I'm a very lucky girl. </div><div></div>Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17584793709826115219noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296524461268988157.post-26181067385320318862007-11-19T06:01:00.000-08:002007-11-20T09:38:38.677-08:00The end of the road?So here's the reflective post. Warning. This may contain scenes of a self-revelatory nature. I read once, think it may have been on Tamsin's blog, that all this blogging is really terribly self-indulgent. We reveal our innermost thoughts in the vain hope that our loved ones will be reading and somehow understand us better. Perhaps that's the motivation behind this; perhaps it's more about summarising for myself what I've learnt along the way - so when I end up prostituting myself to the corporate devil once more I'll remember what's really important.<br /><br />Of everything I've done, living and working in a small village on the banks of the Kinabatangan in Borneo provided the biggest shift in experience for me. I'm still not a fan of the Raleigh organisation (being forced to eat porridge and pasta in the land of nasi lemak is just a travesty), but I could never have done it on my own and it really does attract some inspirational people, not least of whom was Toby. We worked so well together, it's the first time in my life I've really allowed someone else to lead a project whilst I took on a secondary role, clucking around all my little chickens. I just loved it; I was surprisingly good at it. I realise just how much of a collectivist I am, I'm at my best when I have others to focus on. It's my Scottish upbringing, something I've seen as a hindrance for so many years but which I now realise has actually instilled me with some great values.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIKsxnDPXEpu9UPoSTCzOK1EmHv19rioMpNXGwbuxBcXRQEEKNs8fC_pknM5sUDeI8MpjQO0bks1gEaP2WVj8xw_LzKplIqw8UvJgK7ANvvP2WTV0oYst26GnQPeRmmq1FO-uY8PTEoc8/s1600-h/546624579_f257bfa2a8.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIKsxnDPXEpu9UPoSTCzOK1EmHv19rioMpNXGwbuxBcXRQEEKNs8fC_pknM5sUDeI8MpjQO0bks1gEaP2WVj8xw_LzKplIqw8UvJgK7ANvvP2WTV0oYst26GnQPeRmmq1FO-uY8PTEoc8/s200/546624579_f257bfa2a8.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134674768500087138" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggyhT5TvgwZlmKeq-WCO_EDJx6-mHTHIeWVBaYlxNhdhItgdejqkpKowTHgZMyWqr_kDxR5zSIrd5VqkvPR2EsYgOMybj0NZxDBIhyMEBGbaYR7NfmEKvETkEm5Evrue3T3dVVKVCrO90/s1600-h/553295189_241099e9e9.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggyhT5TvgwZlmKeq-WCO_EDJx6-mHTHIeWVBaYlxNhdhItgdejqkpKowTHgZMyWqr_kDxR5zSIrd5VqkvPR2EsYgOMybj0NZxDBIhyMEBGbaYR7NfmEKvETkEm5Evrue3T3dVVKVCrO90/s200/553295189_241099e9e9.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134675760637532530" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />To be with Toby when he died on that road felt so unreal and so unfair. We were so lucky nobody else was killed; the others have made a fantastic recovery. The accident has been a defining experience for me: to know that when the shit really hits the fan, I can step up to the mark and hold it together for everyone else is hugely empowering. It was the first time in my life where my behaviour really mattered and I did both of us proud, both at the time and afterwards. At the end of the expedition I had to accept some flags for his family from the Malaysian government; as I went up to receive them I got this amazing round of applause from over 100 Raleighites in the room. It really was one of the saddest and proudest moments of my life. Pretty much everyone I've met on my trip knows all about Toby, I still talk about him a lot. This pic of us was taken as we were dropped off at the village for the first time. A fun time, we just laughed so much. Biting fireants and noodles for breakfast, neither of which he coped with very well. The pic of me and the group is just after the accident, back in KK. It really is a miracle there are so many people in it.<br /><br />And it was Toby's death that led to a more concrete exploration of Buddhism, firstly in Scotland when I came back in June, then in Nepal. It partly reinforced what I learnt on the banks of the Kinabatangan. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijtsO31vW-6IixZcS6Zyl2GZY1WGf8jaqJ3tC6-I256JpBp3JcTzOdrIXK7fx8-ha0My9R9Y98fbyC1HTOim04cUYyoU02qlixaWarpMooanALaP0xTgePJ9lTWaZRZYaD1F9wv74av6U/s1600-h/1725380877_97f94d7b38_m.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijtsO31vW-6IixZcS6Zyl2GZY1WGf8jaqJ3tC6-I256JpBp3JcTzOdrIXK7fx8-ha0My9R9Y98fbyC1HTOim04cUYyoU02qlixaWarpMooanALaP0xTgePJ9lTWaZRZYaD1F9wv74av6U/s200/1725380877_97f94d7b38_m.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134975579419564466" border="0" /></a>Life is just not all about me! But having more awareness and control over yourself allows you to be of more benefit to others. And there's little point in expending all your energy trying to change your external circumstances, it's really your internal world you need to master. I'm really convinced of that now and I'm definitely in a quieter, calmer phase. I have my moments, but the excess of years past seems so far away, it's just not me anymore.<br /><br /><br /><br />Having said all that, I did manage to be hugely self-indulgent and take 2 months just to ski...... and I really improved thanks to some great instruction and fantastic terrain. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxf18NAnJkQ7UCA_PALjRAzWPgeJXbAD1_1I8Q7uCjYIr3XjP-Zb130rz6o4wIshqjMZA-1_IjehmCk8SEkANyPtfe9MbRKe6gVsP9nxRTdj69I2bLaYkUWdNQJx3B177j8SeKbvTU3Og/s1600-h/1262479146_ccbaa4db72_m.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxf18NAnJkQ7UCA_PALjRAzWPgeJXbAD1_1I8Q7uCjYIr3XjP-Zb130rz6o4wIshqjMZA-1_IjehmCk8SEkANyPtfe9MbRKe6gVsP9nxRTdj69I2bLaYkUWdNQJx3B177j8SeKbvTU3Og/s200/1262479146_ccbaa4db72_m.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134974256569637266" border="0" /></a>So I've learnt I love skiing. Hmm, yes, that's an insight. Seriously though, being outside and active is so important for me, I can't live without it. (It's the years of being forced up the Caterthuns with my fellow Granties in the freezing cold and driving sleet. Scarred me for life.)<br /><br />Skiing also taught me much more than I thought: I realise what's stopping me progressing is really just commitment, you have to fling yourself down difficult terrain, even when you're afraid. Just like life and I realise I've not done enough of this. I tend to chop and change in a 'grass is greener' sort of way. Although I do think that's partly a result of focusing on the wrong things: status, money, security and conformity do not a happy Hannah make. But I will definitely commit properly to whatever I decide to do next. Increasingly I think that's actually the answer for most things in life. Just do things properly. Don't be half-hearted and don't give up at the first hurdle.<br /><br />Of course I had a companion in my head pretty much the whole way through, not something I'd recommend for those of you considering a long trip, but life has a habit of getting in the way. Meeting Nathan and falling in love again was so unexpected and so lovely: I spent the first half of the journey in a state of happy excitement and the second half hurt and just so disappointed that it was not what I thought. There are lessons of course, probably the most important of which is to trust my intuition. It told me that all was not well but I suppressed it, thinking it was just my fear of getting involved again. It wasn't. Intuition is a powerful, powerful thing and we ignore it at our peril. It even told me <span style="font-style: italic;">exactly<span style="font-style: italic;"> </span></span>what I needed to worry about. Anyway. Enough of that.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzwiILaPlgvos_PAKyoZgyl2XDYA3F921B2zpceqLLzxH-ywy71xz3Wt_Q2ARUB-KmTGHg-XOibMSXesKjVsB0qQUVcIR4YKMuY37ELaN7DU_haVS_LQE72JxMpNyqpj_CfGQnQQYymSA/s1600-h/1725137862_ae46d2d8c0_m.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzwiILaPlgvos_PAKyoZgyl2XDYA3F921B2zpceqLLzxH-ywy71xz3Wt_Q2ARUB-KmTGHg-XOibMSXesKjVsB0qQUVcIR4YKMuY37ELaN7DU_haVS_LQE72JxMpNyqpj_CfGQnQQYymSA/s200/1725137862_ae46d2d8c0_m.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134975360376232354" border="0" /></a>As for travel itself, seeing more of the world and how people live is endlessly fascinating. We are all so interesting and really not so different from each other in terms of what we want, not at the core at least. I also realise just how fortunate I am to have been born with English as my first language and to have had the luxury of an education and therefore employment. I have never had to worry about where my next meal is coming from. It's an excess of things that bothers me, not a lack! We may be materially rich in the West, but I feel we've lost our sense of community and what's truly important in life.<br /><br />So is this the end of the road? In terms of 'what on earth next', it's really where the fun begins. The experience has shifted my perspective and I won't be able to reverse. For first time in my life, I realise that who you are as a person is more important than what you achieve. Sounds simple, but really, this is a revelation for me. At the same time, I also know I want to make more of contribution to others than I've done to date. Got some ideas, so we'll see.<br /><br />Anyway, I've decided to shelve all big questions for now.... I fly to Salt Lake City next Wednesday in pursuit of the best powder snow in the world and the ability to tackle it. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSuRTSmSSEVnYgZlEXYx9hC5WHQERGNLRd5DxY6nKXQjJSvuF0ZFcJ5BFYXMYUgbu6CGtOTK-UEMcA1n337Ttue27i_oAKI_P0AzYsZwUUc5cPUTNy2JwLxvuY9xoQ7Yc4ZbqXK36KXNg/s1600-h/1370249440_e82742bedd_m.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSuRTSmSSEVnYgZlEXYx9hC5WHQERGNLRd5DxY6nKXQjJSvuF0ZFcJ5BFYXMYUgbu6CGtOTK-UEMcA1n337Ttue27i_oAKI_P0AzYsZwUUc5cPUTNy2JwLxvuY9xoQ7Yc4ZbqXK36KXNg/s200/1370249440_e82742bedd_m.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134973513540295042" border="0" /></a>I can't wait. Here's a snow pic to get me in the mood, as if I needed any assistance. I want to do lots of walking to the best stuff this winter.Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17584793709826115219noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296524461268988157.post-1620909314099133922007-11-05T08:30:00.000-08:002007-11-05T09:21:49.024-08:00I've got new Puma speedcats for just under a tenner<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5129401710258905250" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaG8re27K9jcoCYvndEKUd5UqY8hdloPyb4fldwA3BdMoiar9s5m4e-EXpaGKEWwY49Omv_maV_SwTEPkLGWjG4Mqt9vwGyqFPDwwUOgjiRs4biDpaL-UdwUHr25PtZ7np1n8dB0ozCNU/s200/1857971761_ed4d4ab1ac_m.jpg" border="0" />So excited! They may be rip offs and I may have bought the wrong size but that's not the point. They're a <em>bargain.</em><em> </em><br /><div><div>I'm in Bangkok. I love it. There's so much to it, you'd need a week to even start to get a feel for it. It's just the right mix between tacky and cool. And the food is amazing, I've been eating since I got here. I can't believe I went out with Steve "I can cook fantastic Thai food" Faloon for 6 months and he only made me tom yam soup once. I missed a trick there. Mix that with the Buddhist practice (there are literally wats on every corner) and there's so much colour and vibrancy. Very different from Malaysia and being here has just reminded me I never did see the rest of SE Asia. Another time! Is anyone buying me lottery tickets when I'm away?</div><div><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3j2wO7dGmYAwt6dx3Y_oDrQeb5Elqrt58C6QLTIPiFu0nTo1OrzEAC1vex-qAJtlp88k6S-gG95aoHk4W9SlhB-OuVD7EhVk34CUoDByJfPynXL3tdhfDJoDVl4NH2u4JDB7d8aXB50M/s1600-h/1875844526_0879764117_m.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5129404003771441362" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3j2wO7dGmYAwt6dx3Y_oDrQeb5Elqrt58C6QLTIPiFu0nTo1OrzEAC1vex-qAJtlp88k6S-gG95aoHk4W9SlhB-OuVD7EhVk34CUoDByJfPynXL3tdhfDJoDVl4NH2u4JDB7d8aXB50M/s200/1875844526_0879764117_m.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnBUihGqZn7MSy0nYZRek4iZGMDrn0HCJEhfQx3FWKdGcHr4pTqkP-z7oiW5muSO2BL55GEWa3POuZL9hxjEMmgPfhIHgfPQU1J2NZtRFO6lvGQzW4wCR1gZHLuxAErZ69nG70KuF2tiE/s1600-h/1857900791_42e63d9682_m.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5129404587886993634" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnBUihGqZn7MSy0nYZRek4iZGMDrn0HCJEhfQx3FWKdGcHr4pTqkP-z7oiW5muSO2BL55GEWa3POuZL9hxjEMmgPfhIHgfPQU1J2NZtRFO6lvGQzW4wCR1gZHLuxAErZ69nG70KuF2tiE/s200/1857900791_42e63d9682_m.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div>I met up with Sally yesterday which was great, it makes such a difference to see somewhere with someone who speaks the language and knows the country. They just <em>love </em>the king here. It's his 80th birthday this year and his 60th year on the throne, he's the longest-reigning monarch in the world. Today was some sort of holiday, I never did quite work out what was going on but I saw a couple of 'extra' golden buddhas not normally open to the public. No idea where I was, I just went with the tuk-tuk driver's flow. Had to visit a few gem shops to get a cheap ride, the drivers get coupons for petrol if they take tourists there. I was feeling benevolent, compared to Nepal there's hardly anyone trying to rip you off.<br /><br /></div><div>I'm already fantasising about the mini break we're going to have here. A long weekend of total excess. All is possible here and people are up for it. Iain, did you love it? It's so you. You should see the amount of scallies. Got talking to a couple of guys tonight from somewhere in deepest darkest Kent. Imagine Dan Walker's accent, increase his body size, add tattoos, a lot of lager and a traveller's tan. Rough as. Good fun. Iain, your heaven, although no tracksuits I'm afraid. And there's also MBK - a huge shopping mall. After an hour I had to leave, I was frazzled. It's so noisy! Blaring pop music and teenagers everywhere. I think we'd send Greig there whilst we cruised. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp9QcfUgFD-K9uG6JegS6riT6AO8TJGg3x1MCuo9crwQGsnvqL7SswWrURdiT9LhJDig33tMfj1ZSTHu_H0E7aDQ8Ulv1XwgQViMR6Ao98w5sipSphtGnn9quqUSVnRzXejbYLLn2uLAU/s1600-h/1857977855_7e4859b3b5_m.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5129402144050602178" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp9QcfUgFD-K9uG6JegS6riT6AO8TJGg3x1MCuo9crwQGsnvqL7SswWrURdiT9LhJDig33tMfj1ZSTHu_H0E7aDQ8Ulv1XwgQViMR6Ao98w5sipSphtGnn9quqUSVnRzXejbYLLn2uLAU/s200/1857977855_7e4859b3b5_m.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />On a more serious note, if I was to continue the sex tourism theme from Nepal, I'd talk about all the western guys here for the Thai women but I'm not in a right-on mood tonight. It's pretty shocking though. I keep staring at all the couples, I have to check myself at times.</div></div>Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17584793709826115219noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296524461268988157.post-62936759231965891522007-11-03T09:17:00.000-07:002007-11-03T10:12:20.639-07:00Lost in Kathmandu<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqu3ZqpRNBEvLHxARnekQ7LXdaSBIhGf1Ehw3SpCYkjTxUiVXhUIafvFJ_Ekfraaf6Sn9eG-E6abaQzAvbA_b-AY-4CI_y8Tp-p6B0D-vCuVyPu8tp0b4YD2MMEvitBgXjB4CwJRpEjS8/s1600-h/1827973516_b3a924c5c9_m.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128649631420604530" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqu3ZqpRNBEvLHxARnekQ7LXdaSBIhGf1Ehw3SpCYkjTxUiVXhUIafvFJ_Ekfraaf6Sn9eG-E6abaQzAvbA_b-AY-4CI_y8Tp-p6B0D-vCuVyPu8tp0b4YD2MMEvitBgXjB4CwJRpEjS8/s200/1827973516_b3a924c5c9_m.jpg" border="0" /></a>I just love this sign. I laughed so much when I came across it. It pretty much sums up my experience in central Kathmandu, I seemed to go round and round in circles. Leaving today after a really interesting couple of days here; got back in the sightseeing zone after too many days sitting on my arse drinking sweet tea and eating chocolate croissants in Pokhara.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5SjV7Sm4IcP_kUxlmfbG_u3du-gOJE_9W52aGHIJeLsGN29azclDaekxQ7wX4_Sh0GUiCcxG26XoC2yvk1oXEtnZGRFMpc1AEmGInwoDWgFMUgaUCBEQ0BYtJjGNB6HR4YpiJnFY0COA/s1600-h/boud1843737393_10d2f9ab6a_m.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128662297279160466" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5SjV7Sm4IcP_kUxlmfbG_u3du-gOJE_9W52aGHIJeLsGN29azclDaekxQ7wX4_Sh0GUiCcxG26XoC2yvk1oXEtnZGRFMpc1AEmGInwoDWgFMUgaUCBEQ0BYtJjGNB6HR4YpiJnFY0COA/s200/boud1843737393_10d2f9ab6a_m.jpg" border="0" /></a>Yesterday I got up early and went to Boudhanath before the tourists arrived - at 7.30am you have the Tibetans for company and it's really an amazing experience to be there with them as they walk round the Stupa chanting their mantras quietly to themselves. I then spent the best part of an hour in one of the monasteries in some sort of a puja; it was so powerful. It's really hard to convey in words how it feels to be there with all the monks chanting and the gongs and trumpets blasting. I even got to threw some rice around at appropriate moments which was quite fun.<br /><br /><p>A successful local bus trip later, squashed in a minibus driven by a 14 year old, I arrived at Pashputinath which is one of the most holy Hindu temples in Nepal. It's also where families cremate their dead on the ghats by the river. People here <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOUnLcx5PHd6Bz4AoiqAeK2U7JmBZyBD0V9IsVl3LyrMNFw2bgTjYna6d7X6ZGEAD8nhkaOfF3Sq-oLLEX5Ws6n9Qviwe2U6MLTdvYg56khqFEvJDXM15V5X0k7fm2JwwRzACqLvJsKug/s1600-h/ghat1843751455_592660b5c5_m.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128661880667332738" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOUnLcx5PHd6Bz4AoiqAeK2U7JmBZyBD0V9IsVl3LyrMNFw2bgTjYna6d7X6ZGEAD8nhkaOfF3Sq-oLLEX5Ws6n9Qviwe2U6MLTdvYg56khqFEvJDXM15V5X0k7fm2JwwRzACqLvJsKug/s200/ghat1843751455_592660b5c5_m.jpg" border="0" /></a>are much more comfortable with death, possibly because of the belief in reincarnation, possibly because they're in contact with it much more often, I'm not sure. </p><p>To top off a fascinating day, I then managed not only to get on another minibus but to <em>recognise where I was</em> and get off at the right point without being manhandled out by the bus workers that hang off the side. They do their best to help silly tourists like me who decide they want the local experience. </p><p>And that was all in one day. <a href="http://www.flickr.com/gp/10618273@N00/x90231">Here are the rest of the pics.</a> I've not seen enough of Nepal. Trekking isn't Nepal, it doesn't give you much of a feel for how the Nepalese live their lives. Ah well, I'll just have to come back. Maybe after a trip to India for more spiritual searching or something, we'll see. Oh I have the bug now. I knew I shouldn't have started.... I buried it away and tried to do what I was supposed to be doing instead. But now it's multiplying the more I see and do. I'm going to need a cure. </p>Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17584793709826115219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296524461268988157.post-53111794130358795952007-10-27T03:00:00.000-07:002007-10-29T02:25:58.283-07:00Just 21 days and you too could have legs of steel<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5l4rfzF56zSYcX9mamZnifkBkx-0XZ2VS7YyFoLYPIvA49G1wlsqCMq1_izva4ywhY6PL62Hr0SKmikowfyu7z4ozBshjMqEpHfV92xldSXCj0sdAuYoAyYEsN5rGMZGReT5hReNOFk8/s1600-h/IMG_1273.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126685096199544930" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5l4rfzF56zSYcX9mamZnifkBkx-0XZ2VS7YyFoLYPIvA49G1wlsqCMq1_izva4ywhY6PL62Hr0SKmikowfyu7z4ozBshjMqEpHfV92xldSXCj0sdAuYoAyYEsN5rGMZGReT5hReNOFk8/s200/IMG_1273.JPG" border="0" /></a> That's as long as you're prepared to walk 5 to 7 hours a day, pretty much relentlessly up and down, up and down. The rivers get in the way of the path, it's most inconvenient! <div><br />This pic is of Annapurna South at sunrise - you stand in this bowl at the base camp and all around you are mountains. It's just incredible.<br /><br /><div>Back from my trek around the <a href="http://www.flickr.com/gp/10618273@N00/y1H38H">Annapurna circuit </a>and into the <a href="http://www.flickr.com/gp/10618273@N00/2Lx5dA">Annapurna base camp </a>and now relaxing in the funky little part of Pokhara, just far enough away from the tourist hell that is the main drag. (Although compared to Kathmandu it's peanuts.) I really do have legs of steel now. I keep feeling them and getting excited - just in time for the ski season. No doubt I'll be forcing you all to feel them too when I get back. Watch out. </div><br /><div>Follow the links above for the pics if you have a spare hour. I went a bit mad on the photos and I'm going to let them do the talking as far as the route is concerned. There are lots of trekkers but deservedly so - the route passes through such varied landscapes and cultures and gives amazing views of some of the highest mountains in the world. It has felt very much like a holiday as opposed to travel proper, it's all very set up for Western visitors - porridge, Mars bars, even lasagne for dinner. But it didn't get in the way of the experience, there's a nice "we're in it together" spirit about the whole thing, you see the same people each day and get to chat about how dizzy/tired/hot/cold/hungry/sweaty you feel and how long it took you to get from A to B. (Incidentally, my "trekking Nepali" now extends to all of these descriptions and I've impressed the guides and porters no end.) </div><br /><div>It has however really made me think about the impact of tourism here. First off, I spent a lot of the trek fighting off my guide who became increasingly upset when I did not melt into his arms en route. He behaved like a petulant child and we ended up falling out almost daily. As my friend Kathryn said in her cute Canadian accent "God, it's such a high school relationship!". I decided enough was enough after a fortnight of it; we terminated our relationship and I headed into the Annapurna Sanctuary with Kathryn ("did I tell you I do triathlons?") and her guide instead. But it is partly us in the West who have caused this behaviour - it's not unheard of for guides to hook up with their female clients. Which would be fair enough if it was on an equal basis, but it's not. So many of these guys see a Western girlfriend as their ticket to the best sex of their lives... and possibly out of Nepal and to the West. Most Nepalis don't have sex before they are married so the men are fascinated by our freedom to have relationships with whomever we choose. And of course they see all the wealth we flaunt and want some of our "easy life". They don't realise that an "easy life" in the West for them would most likely be on some godawful council estate in a horrible dead-end job, struggling to make ends meet and to integrate into our world. (Unless of course they actually do bag the rich Western girlfriend... )</div><br /><div>Moreover, the tourist dollar often doesn't go to the local communities, it goes to some businessman in Kathmandu who has the money to invest in the teahouses. It costs money to import all the goods we "need" as Westerners, goods and services the average Nepali can never afford. And my current personal favourite - Nepalis have to break the law to bring us steaks. As a Hindu country, cows are sacred and it's illegal to kill them, although they may well be passing yak or buffalo meat off as steak, I'm actually not sure. Consider that 30% of the population live below the poverty line, 80% live on under $2 a day and only 48% of women can read and write - and I think we should try and think about our impact a little bit more. There's lots of publicity about plastic water bottles but I think we're having more of a social and cultural impact - and I know it's not all bad either. Just worth thinking about. </div><br /><div>I didn't see the same envy and lusting after a western lifestyle in Borneo, but then my experience there was very different. I'm aware I'm not even scratching the surface of the real Nepal, I'm only seeing a tourist version. </div><br /><div>I'm still with Kathryn, we're having a lovely relaxing time in Pokhara. We were just saying this morning how easily we could get stuck here. I even look like a hippy, I'm blending in beautifully with the other travellers. Check out this pic. Oh dear, that skirt, call the fashion police.<br /></div><div></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEvPA2OOp2MV08TiGfBF28mi3-DSDSTzf03otrFD04W3YiQOlqv9gas_4Hq9-ST5s001EOE_V79Jbw4xivk4ZfAKeA_vO0IWePeJiVNPGwSYic632_TcPJqyQPLZltfw-knmpQudzYPww/s1600-h/IMG_1344.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126683279428378706" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEvPA2OOp2MV08TiGfBF28mi3-DSDSTzf03otrFD04W3YiQOlqv9gas_4Hq9-ST5s001EOE_V79Jbw4xivk4ZfAKeA_vO0IWePeJiVNPGwSYic632_TcPJqyQPLZltfw-knmpQudzYPww/s200/IMG_1344.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div>Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17584793709826115219noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296524461268988157.post-35095942983884965652007-09-30T07:17:00.000-07:002007-09-30T08:20:28.951-07:00Meditating on the meaning of lifeWell, I've gone from flaming hot f*cks in a ski town (shots of Baileys and Midori set on fire as opposed to anything more interesting I'm afraid) to ten days contemplating the purpose of life in Kopan, a Tibetan Buddhist monastery just outside Kathmandu.<br /><br />It really has been an amazing experience and at times extremely challenging. I can honestly say that my perspective on my life has shifted somewhat. Being exposed to your own delusions is very uncomfortable to say the least but I am sure what I've learned will stay with me.<br /><br />The rituals associated with Tibetan Buddhism were at times rather too much but I suspended my disbelief for once and I even did prayers and prostrations. Did you know that before 1959 there were around 6000 monasteries in Tibet? Such a rich spiritual life, so imaginative. If I compare it to the dour Church of Scotland and all those hard pews and mournful hymns... it's a world away. It's no wonder nobody goes anymore.<br /><br />I did also realise at one point that four years ago at this time I was away with the fairies at the closing parties in Ibiza... and now there I was chanting mantras and meditating for 5 hours a day. I guess it's all about altered states of consciousness really. I even managed to stay <em>completely silent</em> for a day and a half. Yes, that's 36 hours. (It was supposed to be 48 but I just couldn't do it. I actually started talking to myself. You know how I love the sound of my voice.)<br /><br />Struggling to cope with frantic Kathmandu after so much peace.... so having spent a fortune on fake trekking gear I'm off to the Himalayas tomorrow. Back in about 4 weeks, unless I get kidnapped by Maoist rebels.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/gp/10618273@N00/3U993F">Pics of monastic life are here.</a> Haven't got nearly as many of the monks as I'd have liked, it seemed somewhat disrespectful to snap away at them doing their mantras. Have a look at the sunrise ones. 5.30am over the Kathmandu valley. Just beautiful.Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17584793709826115219noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296524461268988157.post-27068484482235761392007-09-15T19:42:00.000-07:002007-09-15T23:13:08.515-07:00Wanaka momentsI'm typing this in Wellington having just left Catherine; it was so great to see a London friend! <a href="http://www.flickr.com/gp/10618273@N00/76J061">Here are the pics</a>, she looks fantastic. We've drunk loads of coffee and caught up on the last 6 months.<br /><br />I wanted to capture my favourite moments from the season in Wanaka before I move on to the next chapter. It really has been great, particularly the last month as I've got to know people better and relaxed into myself a bit more. Sod travelling proper. You never get beyond the standard travel chat: "so where you from? / where you been? / where you going?" It's all very superficial. I must start working on my travel chat-up lines. Something along the lines of: "so what mess are you running away from then?" would yield much more interesting material, I'm sure.<br /><br />As ever, it's people who make your world. So here's the rolecall of those people and moments.<br /><br /><p align="left"><strong>Jane</strong>, who has been the best possible roomie ever. I knew we were going to get on just grand when we had an evening swapping stories of misbehaving madness. Jane had visions of Medusa-style snakes in her companion's hair this NY. Fantastic. We have dominated 10A for two months; only Morton the Danish hunter has got close to disturbing this domination. </p><p align="left"></p><p align="left"><strong>Russ and Jesse</strong> for arriving like little angels sent by the universe to play with me. The best night was being hijacked by them on the way back home from yoga class and dragged to Canteen. I'd been walking along the street feeling really sad about Nathan but several Speights and bourbon shots later, I had trouble even remembering his name. Thanks boys. </p><p align="left"></p><p align="left">Hours spent <strong>trying to impress</strong> <strong>Jonno the chef</strong> with my cooking and baking. I must have made scones about six times and he still said they were rockcakes, not scones. But they did taste good. And you should have tasted Claire's recipe for flourless chocolate cake that I made for Russ and Jesse's BBQ. </p><p align="left"> </p><p align="left"><strong>Great chairlift chat with</strong> <strong>Daisy and Leigh</strong>, top ski mates and coffee drinkers. Or tea in Leigh's case because he is just so English. </p><p align="left"></p><p align="left"><strong>Skiing fast with Russ one sunny afternoon</strong> in the Saddle; yet again, he helped me turn my day around. There was just so much life philosophy in that afternoon. And I rocked! At least until I fell over. </p><p align="left"></p><p align="left"><strong>Hammering Jagerbombs with sleazy Colin</strong> and holding my own in the & Bar with the kids til way past 2am one Saturday - displaying my usual mature attitude to emotional upset. Yes, booze works. At least for a few hours and possibly longer depending on the carnage you manage to create! That night was pretty mild. I must finally be maturing. <a href="http://www.flickr.com/gp/10618273@N00/KTyKVt">Pics of pub nights and things here. </a>On the same sort of note, <strong>trying to get a hit from 'chew' supplied by Jesse</strong> - thus proving once and for all that I am a sensation-seeking nightmare all on my own and do not require the influence of Iain Cassidy.</p><p align="left"></p><p align="left">Lunch at the <strong>Glenorchy</strong> Cafe with Russ. Shockingly beautiful scenery, lovely food, fantastic company. A really great day; in fact I'd go as far as to say awesome! (in a cheesy American game show host accent of course.) <a href="http://www.flickr.com/gp/10618273@N00/s3LxB6">Pics of the day trips here. </a></p><p align="left"></p><p align="left">Last day in the <strong>Motatapu chutes with Nick</strong>, and realising just how much my skiing had come on in the 8 weeks. It was so still and quiet and so beautiful back there away from the lifts and the people, I felt a bit tearful when we'd got to the bottom! <a href="http://www.flickr.com/gp/10618273@N00/C8ff7H">Here's some pics of the ski area.</a> Amazing skiing, amazing views. Oh I love skiing. Have I said that before? Oh - another top ski moment was <strong>landing that jump off the "cliff" (aka rock) with Jon. </strong>There's video evidence of me failing to land it (of course), but not of the success. Jon was great for terrifying the living daylights out of me; all very good for my skiing! </p><p align="left"></p><p align="left">And finally.... <strong>swimming in the lake</strong> after walking a couple of hours to this secluded beach. I was the only one there for miles. Sun shining, bits freezing, totally exhiliarating. Think this was better than swimming in the sea on the West Coast but only marginally. I've got some great <a href="http://www.flickr.com/gp/10618273@N00/6wuSE4">pics of the scenery around Wanaka</a>, have a look. </p><p align="left"></p><p align="left"></p><p align="left">Another thing I've really enjoyed about Wanaka is the total absence of metrosexuals. Here, it's all about snow/ ski kit/ ski technique and maybe a bit of rugby/beer. You'd never catch this lot poncing around Selfridges on a Saturday afternoon drinking Pinot Grigio and spending shedloads of cash on Nicole Farhi jumpers. Or fretting about their 'issues' for that matter. Issue = a bad day on the hill. </p><p align="left"></p><p align="left"></p><p align="left">I've just loved Wanaka, I've loved New Zealand and I'll be back. I've been living in a touristy resort town and hanging out with Brits, Australians and Americans, I've not really experienced New Zealand at all. I want to come back and do a road trip and some serious hiking and camping; so I'll need to find some proper outdoor mates who realise a walk is more than a half hour to the nearest gastropub for lunch.</p><p align="left"></p><p align="left"></p><p align="left">Here are <strong>all </strong>the pics, you'll need a while but I have organised them a bit so you can peruse at leisure! </p><p align="left"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/10618273@N00/collections/72157602035840437/">http://www.flickr.com/photos/10618273@N00/collections/72157602035840437/</a></p>Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17584793709826115219noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296524461268988157.post-6658666201421012362007-08-28T17:38:00.000-07:002007-08-28T18:26:54.045-07:00Skiing as life philosophyI am constantly amazed at how much life philosophy there is in skiing. Yes, really. Quite unexpected, I thought I was just heading over here to indulge myself, but I've learnt some good life lessons. My life and who I am is reflected in my skiing. Honestly, I've not lost it (well, not any more than usual), it's true.<br /><ul><li>Firstly, don't overthink. Just do it. Don't let your head get in the way.<br /></li><li>Secondly, it's not rocket science, it's really quite simple. It's all about staying in balance. </li><br /><li>Thirdly, commit. Don't stand at the top of the chute and scare yourself out of it. Go for it. And keep moving, don't hang out in the turn. Or you'll come unstuck and hit a rock.<br /></li></ul><p>I had a really sad day the other day, got a really upsetting mail and couldn't get it out of my head. It was even interfering with my skiing. (The bastard.) And just as I was feeling particularly sorry for myself, Russ came up behind me and asked if I wanted company for the afternoon; he's the instructor I've skied with the most and we've become friends. He had managed to escape the evil snow school clutches to get in some decent skiing at last. So I worked very hard to keep up with him for the afternoon, he's an old ski racer so it was quite hard (and I know he was being kind to me)....and then just at the end of the day, I took a huge fall whilst whacking unbalanced into an unseen mogul. Biggest one yet by far, I hurtled down the hill at great speed. And I got up, dusted myself down, smiled, put my skis back on and kept moving. Had a great afternoon, totally turned the whole day around. Russ told me I need to learn to self-arrest. How true!<br /></p><p>You see? There are so many life lessons in skiing. </p><br />I don't want to leave. My time here is coming to an end all too soon as I knew it would. Here's a kea surveying the view. Keas are these cool kiwi parrots that munch everything in sight including inedible things like rubber on windscreen wipers.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN1HkCe7PMP8fEo1V1-5_gfYHrt7xiSyCO8koLQ0CyZ5GA4CODhBIgU5KcMRfSUBuW2vEziNEPGsKQs4AhChWBQAxc1-9tN2GWYYHYl1h2xidIMT15ohkhFXLaJVZVZJUdVUj7plSNmD8/s1600-h/IMG_0424.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103924446981647522" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN1HkCe7PMP8fEo1V1-5_gfYHrt7xiSyCO8koLQ0CyZ5GA4CODhBIgU5KcMRfSUBuW2vEziNEPGsKQs4AhChWBQAxc1-9tN2GWYYHYl1h2xidIMT15ohkhFXLaJVZVZJUdVUj7plSNmD8/s200/IMG_0424.JPG" border="0" /></a>Hannahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17584793709826115219noreply@blogger.com1