3 sleeps to go! I can hardly believe it. 3 sleeps until we board that plane. 3 sleeps until the humdrum of ordinary life is 10,000 miles away...
I've always thought that boarding the plane is one of the most exciting parts of a trip. It's the bit where anticipation mixes with the knowledge that anything can happen. Who knows where the path ahead will take you?
Moscow is just the first stop. I wish we had longer but 5 days is all we'll have and then it's time to move on. Oh well, if 5 days is all we have, then 5 days it is. Bon voyage!
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Big Blue or not Big Blue?
Cute foto by jek in the box
It is my belief that travellers are born and not bred. You either love it or you hate it - there is no grey area. I cut my first tooth on foreign soil, learnt to ride a bike on an island, became a Japanese foreign exchange student as a teenager and later kicked up my heels in many a bar in Europe as a twenty-something.
I even took a job in an airport while paying my way through uni. There is something about airports that I find intoxicating - the hum of those giant engines, the relief of tired passengers as they fall into the arms of waiting loved ones. If walls could speak just imagine the stories those walls would tell...
So it is thirty years almost the day since my first plane trip. The last 4 years of travel has been mostly for business, the other 26 years purely pleasure. If you think that this qualifies me as Packer Extraordinaire, you would be wrong. So, so wrong. In fact, my mother called this morning to ask me what I'm planning to take on the plane, if I've started packing yet and whether I have bought insurance. Slightly embarrassing, but much needed. Thanks Mum.
No, I have not started packing but yes, I am thinking about it. I don't think that my failing comes down to a lack of lists. I certainly write many a list before I take a sojourn anywhere (I just love that word, incase you haven't realised. Sojourn. Insert blissful sigh). So back to the business of writing lists. I always write one. I always pack everything on my list, carefully inserting pieces into my suitcase and checking them off. I also name my suitcases, in much the same way that men name their cars. I'm not sure whether Big Blue will be accompanying me this time. Big Blue is an old friend. Mostly because I can shove more than the manufacturer intended into the folds, squish down the lid, lay on top of it while hubby zips it up and take comfort knowing she won't fail me.
Once in Rome I had left Big Blue at the train station luggage hold while spending the weekend in Capri. Upon collection I was dismayed to find that some crazy Italian had decided to empty a cup of coffee over her, before using the lid of the case as an ashtray and setting her alight, albeit only for a moment. Being the calm, rational person that I am, I screamed "I love what you've done with my bag" hysterically, before kicking a metal locker door and almost breaking my big toe. Big Blue (and I) both lived to see another day and she has since wheeled her way across many an airport floor.
It's decided. All that reminiscing has made me a little sentimental. Big Blue it is.
I even took a job in an airport while paying my way through uni. There is something about airports that I find intoxicating - the hum of those giant engines, the relief of tired passengers as they fall into the arms of waiting loved ones. If walls could speak just imagine the stories those walls would tell...
So it is thirty years almost the day since my first plane trip. The last 4 years of travel has been mostly for business, the other 26 years purely pleasure. If you think that this qualifies me as Packer Extraordinaire, you would be wrong. So, so wrong. In fact, my mother called this morning to ask me what I'm planning to take on the plane, if I've started packing yet and whether I have bought insurance. Slightly embarrassing, but much needed. Thanks Mum.
No, I have not started packing but yes, I am thinking about it. I don't think that my failing comes down to a lack of lists. I certainly write many a list before I take a sojourn anywhere (I just love that word, incase you haven't realised. Sojourn. Insert blissful sigh). So back to the business of writing lists. I always write one. I always pack everything on my list, carefully inserting pieces into my suitcase and checking them off. I also name my suitcases, in much the same way that men name their cars. I'm not sure whether Big Blue will be accompanying me this time. Big Blue is an old friend. Mostly because I can shove more than the manufacturer intended into the folds, squish down the lid, lay on top of it while hubby zips it up and take comfort knowing she won't fail me.
Once in Rome I had left Big Blue at the train station luggage hold while spending the weekend in Capri. Upon collection I was dismayed to find that some crazy Italian had decided to empty a cup of coffee over her, before using the lid of the case as an ashtray and setting her alight, albeit only for a moment. Being the calm, rational person that I am, I screamed "I love what you've done with my bag" hysterically, before kicking a metal locker door and almost breaking my big toe. Big Blue (and I) both lived to see another day and she has since wheeled her way across many an airport floor.
It's decided. All that reminiscing has made me a little sentimental. Big Blue it is.
Latest must-have item: Russian tourist visa
cool foto by WoodvinesI am eagerly, yet calmly awaiting the arrival of our visas. Okay, so that is slightly embellishing the truth (otherwise known as a big fat lie). I am angst ridden and nail biting as we speak, tired of waiting. Sigh. My poor index nail is red and torn. Double sigh.
None of this would have occurred if I'd done some research and gotten off my arse. I spent some time googling 'how aussies get a visa for russia' and found out that if you get someone (preferably a Russian citizen) to write you a 'letter of invitation', you can simply show up at the Consulate, fork over some cash and walk away same day, visa in hand. Not so.
If you are currently planning your own sojourn to the former USSR, please don't rely on this working quite so easily. Check out the Russian Consultate in your area for instructions. Here's the Russian Consulate in Sydney. All foreigners must have Russian visas. Just to make things a little easier for my fellow globe-trotters, I've included the link here so that you can download the application form. And remember if, like me, you are taking a little one on the road with you, they may also require their own visa.
I'm off to double cross my fingers and toes. Because this always works for me ;-)
Friday, May 29, 2009
fellow globe trotters
Caught up with a bunch of enigmatic women today... Funnily enough all hailed from different parts of the globe, obviously fellow globe trotters, happy to put down roots in any neck of the woods.
Prue was quietly assertive from the get-go, standing up for her rights to be zany and throwing a sprinkling of candid humour into the conversation. Next came Babette who - would you believe, was born in Morrocco (very exotic!). She muses about all things Women on her blog. Being a bit of a women's lib leftie myself, I would encourage anyone to check our her notes on women and business. And lastly (but not least) in my row came the Austrian chef, Hanna without a 'H'. I'd say we'll see Hanna on Master Chef in the not-too-distant future. In the interim, she's cooking up a storm on her blog, with a bunch of hearty recipes that will keep you toasty throughout winter.
A firm believer in the serendipitous, I'd say it is no coincidence that I've just crossed paths with these well-travelled women today, just six sleeps from The Great Journey. Time will tell what it all means...
Prue was quietly assertive from the get-go, standing up for her rights to be zany and throwing a sprinkling of candid humour into the conversation. Next came Babette who - would you believe, was born in Morrocco (very exotic!). She muses about all things Women on her blog. Being a bit of a women's lib leftie myself, I would encourage anyone to check our her notes on women and business. And lastly (but not least) in my row came the Austrian chef, Hanna without a 'H'. I'd say we'll see Hanna on Master Chef in the not-too-distant future. In the interim, she's cooking up a storm on her blog, with a bunch of hearty recipes that will keep you toasty throughout winter.
A firm believer in the serendipitous, I'd say it is no coincidence that I've just crossed paths with these well-travelled women today, just six sleeps from The Great Journey. Time will tell what it all means...
to russia with love
So the countdown is on! Six sleeps until the globe trotting begins and we are half way across the globe, drinking vodka and traipsing the Red Square of Moscow...If only I had at least read a guide book or learnt a few phrases in Russian. This is my travel diary - twill be full of adventures, laughs and anecodotes taken from locals in bars on lazy Sunday afternoons. Or so I hope!
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