"put on a little make-up, make-up / make sure they get your good side, good side"
66 Comments Published by H on 30 June 2006 at 4:05 PM.
I'm feeling a little disgruntled today. Perhaps I can attribute it to essay guilt. I had earmarked today for writing 4000 words on feminist postmodernists but the day seems to have slipped away from me. Instead, I found myself wandering around the house listlessly, eating copious amounts of Fitness and Thai mix. Also, my morning didn't start well as I woke up with an excruciating cramp in my left leg and I've been mewling pathetically to anyone who will feign caring.
Anyway, there was a rather vain reason for this post. My Site Meter tells me that I've hit the 1000 mark in visits and rather aptly, the 1000th visitor found these hallowed pages by doing a Google search for Sophie Ellis-Bextor lyrics. So, mystery Sophie E-B fan, I salute you.
In other news: I went out with my friends last night in East Dulwich and the combination of our gentrified surroundings and my impaired judgement (I was rather unwisely drinking on an empty stomach) led to me paying £7 for fish and chips in a gastro-chippy (rather amusingly called the Sea Cow). Zut alors!
I am taking myself off to the cinema to watch Keanu and Sandra's joyful time-travel-y reunion whilst bellowing along to East 17's Greatest Hits in the car. I hear that Goddess with Corkscrew Curls, Tracey Ann Oberman, is making an appearance in Doctor Who tomorrow. As I have yet to catch up with all the creamy Who goodness of the past month, the weekly Tennant Adoration will be sadly absent. Happy weekend!
Anyway, there was a rather vain reason for this post. My Site Meter tells me that I've hit the 1000 mark in visits and rather aptly, the 1000th visitor found these hallowed pages by doing a Google search for Sophie Ellis-Bextor lyrics. So, mystery Sophie E-B fan, I salute you.
In other news: I went out with my friends last night in East Dulwich and the combination of our gentrified surroundings and my impaired judgement (I was rather unwisely drinking on an empty stomach) led to me paying £7 for fish and chips in a gastro-chippy (rather amusingly called the Sea Cow). Zut alors!
I am taking myself off to the cinema to watch Keanu and Sandra's joyful time-travel-y reunion whilst bellowing along to East 17's Greatest Hits in the car. I hear that Goddess with Corkscrew Curls, Tracey Ann Oberman, is making an appearance in Doctor Who tomorrow. As I have yet to catch up with all the creamy Who goodness of the past month, the weekly Tennant Adoration will be sadly absent. Happy weekend!
As promised, part deux of my What I Did On My Holidays (by H, aged 22 and 7 months) essay.
Part II: Kraków
So, our first train journey of the trip and although it's only a four hour train journey, we use up all our games. I get taught Rummy (I'm not very good at it so I refuse to play again) and in return, I teach the girls blackjack (which I'm excellent at so I force them to play), 20 Questions, the ABC game and I introduce All Time Top Five to my compatriots (they are not impressed.) All this fun and games means that we're not very well prepared when our stop comes up and we have to rush to get our backpacks down from the overhead racks. One of the other men in the cabin very kindly offers his help but then chooses that particular moment to strike up conversation whilst simultaneous blocking the exit of the carriage. Eventually we make our way off the train (after a minor mishap with the train door) and we meet Steph's cousin (who speaks excellent English) and her uncle (who just flings whatever English he knows at us i.e. "Beatles! Manchester United!! Very good!") We're staying in Rzewa which is a little village about an hour outside of Krakow and the family have large plot of land with two houses and a barn built on it. After the short drive from the train station to their homestead, we are presented with a lovely dinner of home-made chicken patties, rice and salad. It is only afterwards that they inform us that they killed that chicken especially for us. On visiting the chickens in the shed later, I feel a little pang of guilt. (Or it may have been indigestion.) There are also giant bunnies flopping about the chicken shed and I fervently hope that I'm not presented with Thumper for lunch tomorrow.
An early start as we're squeezing in two excursions in one day: Oświęcim and Wieliczka. It's a two hour drive to the village of Oświęcim which is home to the Auschwitz concentration camp.
As you walk through the infamous gates that are emblazoned with the ironic slogan, "Arbeit Macht Frei" ('work to be free'), you are confronted with a surprisingly green and leafy boulevard lined with industrial concrete boxes. Although parts of the camp were destroyed after the war most of the actual blocks are still in tact and house exhibitions and tributes to all the ethnic groups that were victims of the Nazi regime. The exhibitions about life inside the camp get grimmer and grimmer as you proceed down the boulevard. One of the final exhibitions are the objects found after liberation, mountains of spectacles, briefcases, shoes, a whole wall of human hair shorn from the corpses of the inmates.
Two of the more infamous parts of the camp were destroyed shortly after liberation, Block 25 (known as 'Death Block' as it housed political prisoners who were later executed in the adjoining courtyard) and all but one crematorium/gas chamber. As you walk into the first room in the crematorium block, it seems just like an empty room with a small candlelit shrine in the middle. Then the truth then creeps up your spine and you realise that you're standing in a disused gas chamber. The crematorium is far more unsettling as the sight of the three remaining cast iron furnaces makes it abundantly clear what the purpose of this particular room was. As Auschwitz is now a tourist attraction, large tour groups are to be expected and there are signs in areas such as the gas chambers and the Execution Wall that photography isn't allowed as it is disrespectful to the masses of lives that were executed. However, schoolchildren being schoolchildren were still mooching around, smoking and being surly and enthusiastically snapping the more grotesque aspects of the camp. One boy was trying to crane his arm into a furnace as far as possible to get a shot. Rather more inappropriately, I saw a father ushering his young child to the Execution Wall for a cheery family holiday shot. Oh, there were also the handful of people that I saw camcordering their Auschwitz experience. I dread to think when the urge seizes them to dig out that particular holiday video.
A quick tour of the camp takes up two or three hours but the full tour which encompasses the nearby Birkenau (also known as 'KL Auschwitz II') takes a whole day. As you can imagine, two hours of Auschwitz is enough to drain anyone, so we decided to forego Birkenau in favour of Wieliczka and the salt mines.
I know that visiting salt mines might sound a bit educational fun but it's more like the London Dungeons, except 135m below the earth's surface. I suffer a little from mild vertigo so the thought of descending hundreds of metres below the surface didn't exactly fill me with joy. Neither did the tour guide's urging us to look down the dizzying 378 steps that we had to walk down to reach the first level of the mines. However, once we were on dry, er salt, we were greeted with the cheery sight of Nicholas Copernicus...made out of salt! The tour progresses through many more chambers all complete with impressive spectacles carved from salt. Perhaps the most impressive and most popular attraction in the mines is the St. Kinga chapel. A cavernous hall illuminated by salt chandeliers and decorated with bas-relief impressions of Biblical scenes and Da Vinci's The Last Supper (made from salt!!)
Even without the impressive St. Kinga's chapel (complete with salt altar), the Wieliczka salt mines would definately have a place in my All Time Top Five Tourist Attractions...EVER. How can I fail to adore a tourist attraction where you are encouraged to lick the walls? We had a brief chat with our lovely tour guide who informed us that a few chambers were closed off as there was a wedding party and a graduation ball taking place in the mines. Ever since then, I've resolved that if I'm ever to marry, it will be in the salt mines and my wedding cake will be decorated with a tiny salt bride and salt groom. Saltalicious!
Day six and we finally get to see Krakow, hurrah. Rather unusually, we are treated to a lie-in as Steph is whisked off on family visits. Mid-afternoon we catch a rickety country train to Kraków (and we are treated to the frankly terrifying experience of walking across rail tracks). First impressions of Kraków are far more favourable than Warsaw - it's far prettier, busier, younger and less industrial than the capital city.
We stroll through the pretty market square and visit St. Mary's Basilica (which rather cheekily charges not only an admission fee but also a photography fee.) As I refused to pay the 5 zloty photography fee I'm rather lacking in photos of the beautiful wooden carved Gothic altar. I am forced to shell out for a postcard instead. Boo. It's off to Wawel Castle which has some sort of bizarre limited ticket system. As it's late afternoon, we've missed the boat on tickets for any of the apartments and rooms of the castle, so we take a stroll around the grounds which are very pretty (but I'm feeling a little castle-d out by this point so the grandeur is a lost on me.) A quick look at the Wawel Cathedral also reveals my fast-growing ennui with gothic cathedrals but my interest is piqued by the woolly mammoth bone that hangs outside the cathedral door:
Odd sight of the day:
Walking through the little park that leads up to the university, we heard a barrage of klaxons and turned around to see this peculiar sight heading towards us. After hiding in some nearby bushes lest they apprehend us, we realise that it's a marketing campaign for Polish domestos. A wise move, I think you'll agree dear readers, when I tell you that moments later, a couple on a bench were interrupted by two of the men in bacteria suits.
We wait by the Dragon's Cave (sounds more impressive than it actually is. It's a little turret that leads down to the Wawel Dragon. Sadly also less impressive than it actually is) for Ewa's friend who is joining us for a drink. However, more pressing matters arise, namely our lack of accommodation for Bratislava and Budapest so a quick session in an Internet cafe becomes an hour and a half long trawl through hostel websites. I give up after an hour and resort to sending out emails and blogging instead. Finally, we secure rooms for our 'B' cities and we are led off to the Jewish district of the city, Kazimierz. By night, Kazimierz resembles east London, lots of little bars and restaurants line the streets, students and young hipsters in emo-glasses spill out onto the streets, beers in hand. We find a little ill-lit bar which is clearly rather trendy, yet a round is a bargainious £5. However, disaster strikes and our pleasant evening is cut short as we realise that we haven't left enough time to get to the station to catch the last train home. This results in a group of panicked girls running across the misty rain-soaked streets of Krakow. Throughout this 20 minute run, I repeatedly curse my choice of umbrella for the day, a full-sized, old-fashioned black number. Luckily we make it on the train with three minutes to spare and we collapse gratefully on the worn seats, red-faced and wheezing as we speed off into the damp night.
Day seven dawns and we have another full day in Krakow to look forward to. However, even before we step foot out of the house, we have a mini-crisis. On entering the dining room, we are presented with three plates of quivering jelly. On closer inspection, there are diced carrots languishing on the bottom of the jelly, while a cloud of shredded chicken floats at the top. After exchanging panicked looks, we sit down and tentatively try this latest culinary surprise. Steph fishes out a chunk of carrot and I carve a sliver of chicken and jelly and we make 'down the hatch' faces at each other. My first thought is "OhmygodI'mgoingtobesick" followed by, "Oh my god, I feed my cat this?!" Luckily, Ewa understands our plight (she's no fan of the chicken and carrot jelly either) and the jelly is quickly whipped away and replaced with the far safer option of bread and cold cuts. We decide to catch an earlier train in an effort to secure tickets for the attractions at Wawel Castle but our cunning plan is thwarted when our train is cancelled. Disaster! This results in us waiting on the freezing cold and torrentially wet platform at Rzewa station for an hour. After fifteen minutes, I can't bear the cold anymore and I reluctantly unfold my Kag In A Bag. Boredom strikes another fifteen minutes later and after espying some giant snails that have been lured out by the promise of rain, I decide to document the life of a Polish snail:
Luckily for us (and doubtless for you too dear readers), the second train arrives as scheduled and I spend the hour-long journey sleeping. When we do finally arrive in Krakow, we're lured into a nearby cafe with it's seductive promises of hot beverages. A large cup of lemon tea later (as is customary in Poland, tea is not taken with milk (or 'mleko') but rather a slice of lemon and sugar), we're ready to climb up the hill to Wawel Castle. Again. Even though it's 11am, there are only tickets for the State Apartments left and we have an hour before our allotted entrance time. So, it's back to the cathedral to kill some time and we get tickets for the crypts and the bell tower. The rickety staircases that wind their way up the bell tower are incredibly narrow and combined with the large crowds, do nothing whatsoever for my vertigo. On my way down (where I can't help but look down) my halting steps and general slowness ensure that quite a crowd builds up behind me. The Italian man who is directly behind me tries to comfort me with some kind words but this only serves to compound my embarassment. The top of the bell tower boasts a pretty view of the city and hoards of tourists swarm around the huge bell (you're meant to touch it and make a wish. Mine was "Please God, let me make it down alive and I'll never make snarky remarks about Gothic cathedrals again.") My trip to the crypts was cut a little short as Steph had a claustrophobia attack (phobia-mania!) and I accompanied her outside where we observed a nun sending a text message and then tucking her phone back into her habit.
The State Apartments aren't as impressive or ornate as the ones in Warsaw Royal Castle or Wilanow but they do boast walls covered in leather. Also, very strict, hawk-eyed attendants who follow you around and intimidated me into not taking any photos. The exterior of the apartments is much more impressive however, lots of little archways and vines, all very Shakespearian and we attempt to act out the Romeo & Juliet balcony scene but a sharp look from an attendant cuts short out performance. After that, it's time for a quick dinner and a stroll around the city to see it by night before catching an early train home (the ghost of the previous night still looming over us).
Day eight sees our last day in Krakow and as Ewa is at work today, we have the morning to ourselves. We catch a train into Krakow and plan out a day of shopping and a tour of the Jewish district. We manage to buy some gifts for Ewa and her family to thank them for their hospitality before the heavens open again. Not even the combined power of the Kag In A Bag and an umbrella keep me anywhere near dry. After taking shelter in a souvenier shop for 20 minutes, we decide that we're too tired and wet to traipse about the city in search of the Jewish district. We leave to catch an early-afternoon train and arrive home to a large homemade lunch of tomato soup, breaded pork and dill mash and chocolate walnut cake. Feeling a little happier and drier, we head back to our rooms and pack. Steph is whisked off on another round of family visits (Uncles Tomek, Stashek, Pieotrek and the amusingly named Bolek, which never fails to amuse us.) We're all ready for bed at 12am and settle in for five hours of sleep.
I wake up feeling as though I've only slept for two hours and my stomach is definately not ready for the huge roast beef sandwich that is waiting for me in the dining room. I manage to hide most of my remains underneath my napkin but I don't escape that easily. Barbara has prepared a veritable mountain of sandwiches for our imminent train journey and we haul the food and our luggage into the car just as the sun is rising.
Part II: Kraków
So, our first train journey of the trip and although it's only a four hour train journey, we use up all our games. I get taught Rummy (I'm not very good at it so I refuse to play again) and in return, I teach the girls blackjack (which I'm excellent at so I force them to play), 20 Questions, the ABC game and I introduce All Time Top Five to my compatriots (they are not impressed.) All this fun and games means that we're not very well prepared when our stop comes up and we have to rush to get our backpacks down from the overhead racks. One of the other men in the cabin very kindly offers his help but then chooses that particular moment to strike up conversation whilst simultaneous blocking the exit of the carriage. Eventually we make our way off the train (after a minor mishap with the train door) and we meet Steph's cousin (who speaks excellent English) and her uncle (who just flings whatever English he knows at us i.e. "Beatles! Manchester United!! Very good!") We're staying in Rzewa which is a little village about an hour outside of Krakow and the family have large plot of land with two houses and a barn built on it. After the short drive from the train station to their homestead, we are presented with a lovely dinner of home-made chicken patties, rice and salad. It is only afterwards that they inform us that they killed that chicken especially for us. On visiting the chickens in the shed later, I feel a little pang of guilt. (Or it may have been indigestion.) There are also giant bunnies flopping about the chicken shed and I fervently hope that I'm not presented with Thumper for lunch tomorrow.
An early start as we're squeezing in two excursions in one day: Oświęcim and Wieliczka. It's a two hour drive to the village of Oświęcim which is home to the Auschwitz concentration camp.
As you walk through the infamous gates that are emblazoned with the ironic slogan, "Arbeit Macht Frei" ('work to be free'), you are confronted with a surprisingly green and leafy boulevard lined with industrial concrete boxes. Although parts of the camp were destroyed after the war most of the actual blocks are still in tact and house exhibitions and tributes to all the ethnic groups that were victims of the Nazi regime. The exhibitions about life inside the camp get grimmer and grimmer as you proceed down the boulevard. One of the final exhibitions are the objects found after liberation, mountains of spectacles, briefcases, shoes, a whole wall of human hair shorn from the corpses of the inmates.
Two of the more infamous parts of the camp were destroyed shortly after liberation, Block 25 (known as 'Death Block' as it housed political prisoners who were later executed in the adjoining courtyard) and all but one crematorium/gas chamber. As you walk into the first room in the crematorium block, it seems just like an empty room with a small candlelit shrine in the middle. Then the truth then creeps up your spine and you realise that you're standing in a disused gas chamber. The crematorium is far more unsettling as the sight of the three remaining cast iron furnaces makes it abundantly clear what the purpose of this particular room was. As Auschwitz is now a tourist attraction, large tour groups are to be expected and there are signs in areas such as the gas chambers and the Execution Wall that photography isn't allowed as it is disrespectful to the masses of lives that were executed. However, schoolchildren being schoolchildren were still mooching around, smoking and being surly and enthusiastically snapping the more grotesque aspects of the camp. One boy was trying to crane his arm into a furnace as far as possible to get a shot. Rather more inappropriately, I saw a father ushering his young child to the Execution Wall for a cheery family holiday shot. Oh, there were also the handful of people that I saw camcordering their Auschwitz experience. I dread to think when the urge seizes them to dig out that particular holiday video.
A quick tour of the camp takes up two or three hours but the full tour which encompasses the nearby Birkenau (also known as 'KL Auschwitz II') takes a whole day. As you can imagine, two hours of Auschwitz is enough to drain anyone, so we decided to forego Birkenau in favour of Wieliczka and the salt mines.
I know that visiting salt mines might sound a bit educational fun but it's more like the London Dungeons, except 135m below the earth's surface. I suffer a little from mild vertigo so the thought of descending hundreds of metres below the surface didn't exactly fill me with joy. Neither did the tour guide's urging us to look down the dizzying 378 steps that we had to walk down to reach the first level of the mines. However, once we were on dry, er salt, we were greeted with the cheery sight of Nicholas Copernicus...made out of salt! The tour progresses through many more chambers all complete with impressive spectacles carved from salt. Perhaps the most impressive and most popular attraction in the mines is the St. Kinga chapel. A cavernous hall illuminated by salt chandeliers and decorated with bas-relief impressions of Biblical scenes and Da Vinci's The Last Supper (made from salt!!)
Even without the impressive St. Kinga's chapel (complete with salt altar), the Wieliczka salt mines would definately have a place in my All Time Top Five Tourist Attractions...EVER. How can I fail to adore a tourist attraction where you are encouraged to lick the walls? We had a brief chat with our lovely tour guide who informed us that a few chambers were closed off as there was a wedding party and a graduation ball taking place in the mines. Ever since then, I've resolved that if I'm ever to marry, it will be in the salt mines and my wedding cake will be decorated with a tiny salt bride and salt groom. Saltalicious!
Day six and we finally get to see Krakow, hurrah. Rather unusually, we are treated to a lie-in as Steph is whisked off on family visits. Mid-afternoon we catch a rickety country train to Kraków (and we are treated to the frankly terrifying experience of walking across rail tracks). First impressions of Kraków are far more favourable than Warsaw - it's far prettier, busier, younger and less industrial than the capital city.
We stroll through the pretty market square and visit St. Mary's Basilica (which rather cheekily charges not only an admission fee but also a photography fee.) As I refused to pay the 5 zloty photography fee I'm rather lacking in photos of the beautiful wooden carved Gothic altar. I am forced to shell out for a postcard instead. Boo. It's off to Wawel Castle which has some sort of bizarre limited ticket system. As it's late afternoon, we've missed the boat on tickets for any of the apartments and rooms of the castle, so we take a stroll around the grounds which are very pretty (but I'm feeling a little castle-d out by this point so the grandeur is a lost on me.) A quick look at the Wawel Cathedral also reveals my fast-growing ennui with gothic cathedrals but my interest is piqued by the woolly mammoth bone that hangs outside the cathedral door:
Odd sight of the day:
Walking through the little park that leads up to the university, we heard a barrage of klaxons and turned around to see this peculiar sight heading towards us. After hiding in some nearby bushes lest they apprehend us, we realise that it's a marketing campaign for Polish domestos. A wise move, I think you'll agree dear readers, when I tell you that moments later, a couple on a bench were interrupted by two of the men in bacteria suits.
We wait by the Dragon's Cave (sounds more impressive than it actually is. It's a little turret that leads down to the Wawel Dragon. Sadly also less impressive than it actually is) for Ewa's friend who is joining us for a drink. However, more pressing matters arise, namely our lack of accommodation for Bratislava and Budapest so a quick session in an Internet cafe becomes an hour and a half long trawl through hostel websites. I give up after an hour and resort to sending out emails and blogging instead. Finally, we secure rooms for our 'B' cities and we are led off to the Jewish district of the city, Kazimierz. By night, Kazimierz resembles east London, lots of little bars and restaurants line the streets, students and young hipsters in emo-glasses spill out onto the streets, beers in hand. We find a little ill-lit bar which is clearly rather trendy, yet a round is a bargainious £5. However, disaster strikes and our pleasant evening is cut short as we realise that we haven't left enough time to get to the station to catch the last train home. This results in a group of panicked girls running across the misty rain-soaked streets of Krakow. Throughout this 20 minute run, I repeatedly curse my choice of umbrella for the day, a full-sized, old-fashioned black number. Luckily we make it on the train with three minutes to spare and we collapse gratefully on the worn seats, red-faced and wheezing as we speed off into the damp night.
Day seven dawns and we have another full day in Krakow to look forward to. However, even before we step foot out of the house, we have a mini-crisis. On entering the dining room, we are presented with three plates of quivering jelly. On closer inspection, there are diced carrots languishing on the bottom of the jelly, while a cloud of shredded chicken floats at the top. After exchanging panicked looks, we sit down and tentatively try this latest culinary surprise. Steph fishes out a chunk of carrot and I carve a sliver of chicken and jelly and we make 'down the hatch' faces at each other. My first thought is "OhmygodI'mgoingtobesick" followed by, "Oh my god, I feed my cat this?!" Luckily, Ewa understands our plight (she's no fan of the chicken and carrot jelly either) and the jelly is quickly whipped away and replaced with the far safer option of bread and cold cuts. We decide to catch an earlier train in an effort to secure tickets for the attractions at Wawel Castle but our cunning plan is thwarted when our train is cancelled. Disaster! This results in us waiting on the freezing cold and torrentially wet platform at Rzewa station for an hour. After fifteen minutes, I can't bear the cold anymore and I reluctantly unfold my Kag In A Bag. Boredom strikes another fifteen minutes later and after espying some giant snails that have been lured out by the promise of rain, I decide to document the life of a Polish snail:
Luckily for us (and doubtless for you too dear readers), the second train arrives as scheduled and I spend the hour-long journey sleeping. When we do finally arrive in Krakow, we're lured into a nearby cafe with it's seductive promises of hot beverages. A large cup of lemon tea later (as is customary in Poland, tea is not taken with milk (or 'mleko') but rather a slice of lemon and sugar), we're ready to climb up the hill to Wawel Castle. Again. Even though it's 11am, there are only tickets for the State Apartments left and we have an hour before our allotted entrance time. So, it's back to the cathedral to kill some time and we get tickets for the crypts and the bell tower. The rickety staircases that wind their way up the bell tower are incredibly narrow and combined with the large crowds, do nothing whatsoever for my vertigo. On my way down (where I can't help but look down) my halting steps and general slowness ensure that quite a crowd builds up behind me. The Italian man who is directly behind me tries to comfort me with some kind words but this only serves to compound my embarassment. The top of the bell tower boasts a pretty view of the city and hoards of tourists swarm around the huge bell (you're meant to touch it and make a wish. Mine was "Please God, let me make it down alive and I'll never make snarky remarks about Gothic cathedrals again.") My trip to the crypts was cut a little short as Steph had a claustrophobia attack (phobia-mania!) and I accompanied her outside where we observed a nun sending a text message and then tucking her phone back into her habit.
The State Apartments aren't as impressive or ornate as the ones in Warsaw Royal Castle or Wilanow but they do boast walls covered in leather. Also, very strict, hawk-eyed attendants who follow you around and intimidated me into not taking any photos. The exterior of the apartments is much more impressive however, lots of little archways and vines, all very Shakespearian and we attempt to act out the Romeo & Juliet balcony scene but a sharp look from an attendant cuts short out performance. After that, it's time for a quick dinner and a stroll around the city to see it by night before catching an early train home (the ghost of the previous night still looming over us).
Day eight sees our last day in Krakow and as Ewa is at work today, we have the morning to ourselves. We catch a train into Krakow and plan out a day of shopping and a tour of the Jewish district. We manage to buy some gifts for Ewa and her family to thank them for their hospitality before the heavens open again. Not even the combined power of the Kag In A Bag and an umbrella keep me anywhere near dry. After taking shelter in a souvenier shop for 20 minutes, we decide that we're too tired and wet to traipse about the city in search of the Jewish district. We leave to catch an early-afternoon train and arrive home to a large homemade lunch of tomato soup, breaded pork and dill mash and chocolate walnut cake. Feeling a little happier and drier, we head back to our rooms and pack. Steph is whisked off on another round of family visits (Uncles Tomek, Stashek, Pieotrek and the amusingly named Bolek, which never fails to amuse us.) We're all ready for bed at 12am and settle in for five hours of sleep.
I wake up feeling as though I've only slept for two hours and my stomach is definately not ready for the huge roast beef sandwich that is waiting for me in the dining room. I manage to hide most of my remains underneath my napkin but I don't escape that easily. Barbara has prepared a veritable mountain of sandwiches for our imminent train journey and we haul the food and our luggage into the car just as the sun is rising.
"someone saved my heart today / will someone turn the light back on?"
1 Comments Published by H on 28 June 2006 at 1:22 PM.
Despite the fact that I am far from financially solvent at the moment, I seem to keep on spending money on non-essential items. Not only did I buy the Studio Stella tickets for Ferris Bueller in the park but today alone I've further indulged my penchant for accessories that make me look like a Disney character. A pair of heart-shaped red polka dot earrings that match my Minnie Mouse shoes but also a blue alice band that isn't a million miles away from Alice In Wonderland (that is if Alice was a brunette and oriental. Er...)
I debuted both of these items when I went to my cousin's final show tonight at the London College of Communication. Having been roughing it for the past three weeks and since I've been back, I've spent most of my time in bed, so I very much relished the chance to wear all my pretty things again. Unfortunately, it did mean that I had to go and make awkward small talk with a group of hip and young gunslingers. So after watching my cousin's showreel of work and drinking some warm beer (as these occasions call for), I made my escape off into the night. Well, actually into Tesco as I had a craving for Fitness and nectarines (more backpacking food habits that are still clinging on). I bought a punnet of cherries (is that the term for cherries or is that only applicable to strawberries?) and promptly stuffed my face with two thirds of them and now I'm fearing a live re-enactment of that scene in The Witches of Eastwick.
Odd moment from today: I was queuing up in HSBC this morning to change back my currency and traveller's cheques and I found myself having to shake a small child off my leg. Repeatedly. I had a moment of panic when I thought that perhaps I would have to walk Quasimodo-style along the streets of south-east London, dragging the weeping infant along with me as he just would not let go.
I've spent the last two hours thinking about the essay that I need to do ("To what extent does the implementation of postmodern literary devices enhance a feminist literary practice?") after the disasterous events of last month. The trouble is that I simply cannot muster any semblance of motivation even though the thought of not graduating is unthinkable. I'm so unmotivated at the moment that I didn't even bother going to my contact lens check up this morning. My optician looks like Robin Cook and the mere thought of having his grinning ginger visage peering into my eyes this morning was more than enough to send me back under the covers. I had a desulatory look at the Guardian job section at the weekend and I find myself despairing at the fatuous job titles and the fact that most of the graduate opportunities are in 'media sales'. Eww.
More things to spend my overdraft on (oh. my. god.):
It's the Amazon Limited Edition Doctor Who Season 2 boxset. In the shape of a Cyberman's head (!!) It says that it comes with a free "lenticular postcard". I've no idea what that is but it sounds amazing! EDIT: I've just looked up lenticular on Wikipedia and I've spent the last five minutes transfixed by the frankly terrifying spectacle of Vic Reeves disappearing and reappearing repeatedly. Ooh. (I do hope that the lenticular postcard is of Rose's disembodied head in a television set silently mouthing the words "Doctor - help me!" Or perhaps just of the Doctor taking off and putting on his emo-specs.)
Anyway, part deux of my travelogue tomorrow dear readers, for now I am valiantly forging ahead with Cloud Atlas (which is getting marginally more exciting). Toodle pip.
I debuted both of these items when I went to my cousin's final show tonight at the London College of Communication. Having been roughing it for the past three weeks and since I've been back, I've spent most of my time in bed, so I very much relished the chance to wear all my pretty things again. Unfortunately, it did mean that I had to go and make awkward small talk with a group of hip and young gunslingers. So after watching my cousin's showreel of work and drinking some warm beer (as these occasions call for), I made my escape off into the night. Well, actually into Tesco as I had a craving for Fitness and nectarines (more backpacking food habits that are still clinging on). I bought a punnet of cherries (is that the term for cherries or is that only applicable to strawberries?) and promptly stuffed my face with two thirds of them and now I'm fearing a live re-enactment of that scene in The Witches of Eastwick.
Odd moment from today: I was queuing up in HSBC this morning to change back my currency and traveller's cheques and I found myself having to shake a small child off my leg. Repeatedly. I had a moment of panic when I thought that perhaps I would have to walk Quasimodo-style along the streets of south-east London, dragging the weeping infant along with me as he just would not let go.
I've spent the last two hours thinking about the essay that I need to do ("To what extent does the implementation of postmodern literary devices enhance a feminist literary practice?") after the disasterous events of last month. The trouble is that I simply cannot muster any semblance of motivation even though the thought of not graduating is unthinkable. I'm so unmotivated at the moment that I didn't even bother going to my contact lens check up this morning. My optician looks like Robin Cook and the mere thought of having his grinning ginger visage peering into my eyes this morning was more than enough to send me back under the covers. I had a desulatory look at the Guardian job section at the weekend and I find myself despairing at the fatuous job titles and the fact that most of the graduate opportunities are in 'media sales'. Eww.
More things to spend my overdraft on (oh. my. god.):
It's the Amazon Limited Edition Doctor Who Season 2 boxset. In the shape of a Cyberman's head (!!) It says that it comes with a free "lenticular postcard". I've no idea what that is but it sounds amazing! EDIT: I've just looked up lenticular on Wikipedia and I've spent the last five minutes transfixed by the frankly terrifying spectacle of Vic Reeves disappearing and reappearing repeatedly. Ooh. (I do hope that the lenticular postcard is of Rose's disembodied head in a television set silently mouthing the words "Doctor - help me!" Or perhaps just of the Doctor taking off and putting on his emo-specs.)
Anyway, part deux of my travelogue tomorrow dear readers, for now I am valiantly forging ahead with Cloud Atlas (which is getting marginally more exciting). Toodle pip.
"Even though the gods are crazy / even though the stars are blind"
1 Comments Published by H on 26 June 2006 at 1:11 PM.
An extra long entry for you today dear readers, 10% extra poptastic goodness...gratis! I'm not sure why this entry is so long as I've done nothing but sleep and watch TV all day. I seem to be flamboyantly disregarding my self-imposed no-spending rule as I bought tickets for the Stella Film Festival in July. But I couldn't resist it, a summer Sunday spent in Greenwich Park (my favourite Royal park) drinking and watching Ferris Bueller's Day Off and then heading to Sean Rowley's Guilty Pleasures Goes To The Movies tent. Hoorah for hazy booze-fuelled 80s nostalgia!
Popstastic Bit
I've been meaning to talk about the Paris Hilton single, Stars Are Blind for a while now. Even though everything about the track shouldn't work (i.e. the general involvement of Paris Hilton; the resurrection of UB40-esque reggae-pop; the line, "I can make it nice or naughty" etc etc) I find that it has been on repeat quite a bit for the past few days. However, there are various reasons to love Stars Are Blind:
- The general involvement of Paris Hilton
- The album is called Paris Is Burning. AMAZING. Not only does this display a hitherto unseen wit but it also references a documentary about the 1980s New York Vogue-ing drag scene.
- The video features Paris frolicking about on a beach and flashing her misshapen ladygarden (see Heat this week) in a revealing silver dress:
- The track is the equivalent of this track is a Long Island Iced Tea: superficially sweet and boozy but deceptively addictive.
There's a lot of talk about Jessica Simpson's new track, A Public Affair which Popjustice have heralded as the 21st century version of Madonna's Holiday. I really wanted to love this track, it's summery and features a drum solo and the phrase "carte blanche" but it just doesn't detract from the fact that this is the Lidl version of Holiday. Let's not even get started on La Simpson's vacant expression which I've only just noticed because the first time I visited that page, I couldn't help staring at her chiffon-encased boobies which I had thrust at me.
Finally, Lily Allen's second single, Smile is out to buy on iTunes. Unfortunately, it's the radio edit which changes the line "When you first left me I was wanting more / but you were fucking that girl next door" to "doing that girl next door". Boo. Anyway, it's still as close to spiteful-post-break-up-revenge-pop-perfection as you can get so go and have a listen.
Survey Bit
It's been a while since I've done a survey. Poached from Stuart.
70 Questions to Start the Summer
1. Do you like someone?
There's someone I like the sound of at the moment but it's more curiosity than full-blown, wobbly-legs, chin-cupped-in-hand daydreaming crush status. Unfortunately, it seems as though Gary Barlow is the closest thing I have to a crush at the moment.
2. Do you hate more than 3 people?
L'horreur! I don't hate anyone. Well, this morning I did - I hated my friend's neighbour for being a cold-hearted, weasel-faced twat but I can't be bothered to waste any energy on hating him.
3. How many places have you lived in?
Only London and quite happily so. In fact, I can't imagine living anywhere other than London, particularly south-east London.
4. What is your favorite candy bar?
Rather surprisingly, given my sweet tooth and general greed, I'm not a fan of chocolate. The only time I buy chocolate is during hormone-induced dazes and then it tends to be whole nut Cadbury bars. Or Green & Black's if I'm feeling particularly extravagant and I want to comfort myself with the fact that it's organic and therefore not guilt-inducing.
5. What are your favorite shoes?
If we were judging this on the shoes that I wear most often, then it would be Converse. Really, my favourite shoes are my red patent wedges that I can't walk in. And the shoes that I most covet are the Marc Jacobs bottle-green sequinned Mary-Janes. So take from that what you will.
6. Have you ever tripped someone?
If only. I'm usually the person who ends up face on floor unfortunately.
7. What was your least favorite subject this year?
My Television & Cultural Change unit which sounded a lot sexier than it actually was.
8. What was your favorite subject this year?
Postmodern Literature. I find that dropping 'meta' and 'self-reflexive' into any sentance virtually guarantees that my answer is correct.
9. Do you own a Britney Spears CD?
Only My Prerogative: Greatest Hits which is neatly sandwiched in between Sugababes and The Strokes in my CD collection. I also don't like the sneery tone of this question; what respectable popophile's record collection would be complete without La Spears's oeuvre?
10. Have you ever thrown up in public?
No. (Except I'm lying.) I guess the first time I did it was through no fault of my own. I was 7 and had the flu and my mother insisted on dragging me out to the shops to run some errands. As all mothers are wont to do, she wrapped me up like a Christmas turkey and encased in ten thousand layers, I was left next to the Pick & Mix counter in Woolworth's feeling more than a little peaky. Unfortunately, I couldn't hold back the gushing torrent of sick that was rushing through my alimentary canal and I was sick in my snood. The second time was alcohol induced and shamefully recent. Let us speak of it no more.
11. Name something that's always on your mind.
The same as everyone else I guess. Food, pop music, television and sex.
12. What is your favorite music genre?
Girl-band, arms-aloft, glitter-ball electro-pop.
13. What's your sign?
Why does this survey feel like a particularly awkward date? Le sigh. Scorpio.
14. What time were you born?
Around 3:30pm. End of school time.
15. Do you like beer?
Eww, no. I'm a lady, I don't drink such neanderthal beverages.
16. Have you ever made a prank call?
Many a time. I always failed miserably at them when I was younger but as I've gotten older and better at lying, I've perfected the art.
17. What is the most embarrassing CD you own?
Well, I think that by most people's standards my whole record collection is a trawl through the bottom of the pop barrel with Hanson being a particularly low point. But I think that my large collection of Ooberman CDs is pretty cringeworthy. Fey indie-pop rubbish. What was I thinking?
18. Are you sarcastic?
When I was a teenager it was my default mode but I've realised that it's not very becoming and it comes across as a little nasty so I've stopped.
19. What are your favorite colors?
Again with the awkward date questions. You would think that it was pink but it isn't. When I was about 14 I was obsessed with purple and tried to compile an entirely purple wardrobe and even attempted to get people to nickname me 'Purple'. Thankfully that didn't catch on. Which is somewhat of a roundabout way of saying that I don't have a favourite colour.
21. Summer or winter?
Winter. Because it's nearer my birthday; Christmas is during winter; there's the slight possibility of snow; winter clothing is nicer and it gives me an excuse to stay at home watching TV in my bedsocks and duvet.
22. Spring or fall?
Both. Autumn boasts my birthday and spring has fluffy bunnies and bleeting sheep and cheap confectionary ahoy.
23. What is your favorite color to wear?
Like every other girl at the moment, green. The green section in my wardrobe has increased from nil to 10 items in the past 12 months.
24. Pepsi or Sprite?
Neither. They're both the short-pants karaoke version of Coca-Cola and 7-up respectively.
25. What color is your cell phone?
Hot pink. I'm a little ashamed to own the phone that Chantelle Houghton is flogging at the moment but it's so thin and teeny.
26. is blank? hmm?
Uh-oh awkward date awkward silence. I'll just take this opportunity to slope off to the toilet to powder my nose and send an SOS text.
27. Have you ever slapped someone?
Rather shamefully, yes. It was a complete stranger who was rewarded with my wrath after grabbing my arse. I have also been slapped and it left a rather comedy red hand print on my face. Obviously, it wasn't so comedy at the time.
28. Have you ever had a cavity?
When I was younger I had a fair few. I actually spent a large proportion of my formative years in the dentist. Hard as it is to believe (and please try not to split your sides at the mere thought) my problem was that my mouth wasn't big enough. So many an afternoon was spent in a sweaty cramped orthodontist's office having my mouth prodded with various wires.
29. How many lamps are in your bedroom?
Two. One on my desk and one next to my bed.
30. How many video games do you own?
Exactly four. I was considering selling my Nintendo SNES for which I only ever owned two games which were both Donkey Kong games. The other two were during my Gameboy Advance phase and one was a Harry Potter game and the other one was the excellent Yoshi's Island (which I still have yet to clock.)
31. What was your first pet?
It was a kitten called Lily. In retrospect, I was much too young for a kitten and it was taken away from me because I had a tendency to swing it round by its tail.
32. Have you ever had braces?
Yes, when I was 14. Rather oddly, only on the top row of my teeth.
33. Do looks matter?
Not really but unfortunately they kind of do. I find myself very much attracted to unconventional looking men and have in the past fallen for boys who aren't my type at all because (trite as it sounds) their personality did it for me. But I guess on a more basic level, physical attraction as a quick-quick-make-babies! mechanism make looks important.
34. Do you use Chapstick?
No. And neither should you. It just dries out your lips. Vasaline is the worst culprit for this. I am a slave to the transformative powers of Eve Lom's Kiss Mix, MAC Tinted Balm and Clinique Superbalm.
35. Name 3 teachers from your school.
Mr. Smith: my History teacher who used to spend the lessons talking to us about that week's episode of This Life. Mr. Turner: my Resistant Materials DT teacher who was the biggest oddball. He used to wear flamboyantly printed shirts (pink elephants etc), had a feather earring and claimed that he was a model for Jean-Paul Gautier in the past. He also had a "stomach ulcer" (read: nervous breakdown) and had to leave. Mr. Thomason: my art teacher who completely put me off art. He was Danish and had an unnerving way of wearing his trousers in a spectacularly low-slung way.
36. American Eagle or Abercrombie?
There's a difference between them?
37. Are you too forgiving?
Absolutely.
38. How many children do you want?
At the moment the answer is none and also for the forseeable future as I don't particularly get on well with children. However, I imagine that as I hit my late 20s the ticking of the dreaded biological clock will drown out any reason and common sense that I have held onto until now.
39. Do you own something from Hot Topic?
I own something from the Emily Strange line which is close enough.
40. What is your favorite breakfast?
I've recently taken a liking to Fitness which is like a wheatier and bigger-flake version of Special K.
41. Do you own a gun?
No. I must say, these aren't the kind of questions that I would associate with the beginning of summer. Or indeed any other season.
42. Have you ever thought you were in love?
Yes. Emphasis on the "thought".
43. When was the last time you cried?
I honestly can't remember. I'm not moved to tears particularly easily. Although I did get a little choked up during the finale of Never Forget on Saturday. Perhaps I shouldn't admit that.
44. What did you do 3 days ago?
It was Friday, so I had just gotten back from Eastern Europe a day before. I had a hectic schedule of sleeping only interrupted by laundry and packing in preparation for my weekend in Milton Keynes.
45. When was the last time you went to Olive Garden?
Er, never. Even with my penchant for eating whole tubs of olives at a time, the Olive Garden doesn't sound like a place I want to frequent.
46. Have you ever called your teacher mom?
As far as I can remember, no but it sounds like the kind of thing I might have done.
47. Have you ever been in a castle?
Never until my trip to Eastern Europe where I crammed a whole lifetime's worth of castles and palaces into 3 weeks. There was Wilanow Palace, Warsaw; Wawal Castle, Krakow; Bratislava Castle; the Royal Palace and Citadella in Budapest and Diocletian's Palace in Split.
48. What are your nicknames?
They don't bear repeating because I loathe them. But it's gotten past the point where I can repair any damage and even my friend's parents have taken to calling me by my Hateful Nickname. My PE teacher once forgot my name and called me "Naan" and that crops up occasionally much to the amusement of my friends.
49. Do you know anyone named Bertha?
No but I would love to. Mainly because I would nickname her Big Bertha.
50. Have you ever been to Kentucky Fried Chicken?
Yes. And almost always instantly regretted it afterwards.
51. Do you own something from Banana Republic?
No but I own a couple of things from Gap. I have no standards whatsoever. My boycott of Gap ended abruptly as soon as the accessories designer from Marc Jacobs moved to Gap.
52. Are you thinking about somebody right now?
Yes. But again not in that hubba-hubba-woof! kind of way.
53. Have you ever called someone Boo?
As in the sickening term of endearment? No. I've said "boo" to people in a childish manner.
54. Do you smoke?
No. When I was younger I tried to cultivate a smoking habit but I hated the taste too much to overcome it in order to look cool.
55. Do you own a diamond ring?
I don't own anything diamond. Mainly because I would promptly lose it.
56. Are you happy with your life right now?
Today not so much. I've spent too much time worrying about the scary future and mundane everyday things like money. But generally, I've nothing to worry about. Although I guess that doesn't mean that there are aspects that I would like changed.
57. Do you dye your hair?
Not so much anymore. I sometimes have the urge to dye my hair wicked-witch-blackest-black but I end up looking like Brian Molko. I used to have a blonde chunk in my fringe and before that blonde tips which were intermittently dyed pink and on one disasterous occasion, green.
58. Does anyone like you?
In a that nudge-nudge-wink-wink way? Sadly, not as far as I know.
59. What year were you born?
Nineteen eighty-three.
60. What were you doing May of 1994?
I was finishing primary school and having a fall-out with my then-best-friend.
61. Do you own a Backstreet Boys CD?
Yes, exactly four. One album and three singles.
62. McDonald's or Wendy's?
McDonald's. But again, it's an option that you inevitably regret afterwards.
63. Do you like yourself?
Yes. I'm quite the catch.
64. Are you closer to your mother or father?
When I was younger, it was my mother because my dad worked long hours and had to come home and be stern pater which scared me. Now, it's reversed and I get along better with my father which isn't to say that I don't get along with mater.
65. Favorite feature of the opposite sex?
Ah, it doesn't take much to please me. Just give me a lovely boy who can make me laugh and is smart and is willing to put up with my inane chatter about pop culture and I'm happy. I find that asking a boy who his favourite member of Girls Aloud is rather telling. As much as I heart Tweedy, I would want the kind of boy who finds the less obvious charms of Nicola or Kimberly more alluring. But if we're being superficial we can include: decent haircut, some semblance of sartorial awareness and nice eyes. Even more shallow and vacuous? Bums.
66. Are you afraid of the dark?
It depends. When I was younger I was. Now I prefer sleeping in as dark a room as possible. However, I do get a little wigged out when going up the stairs in darkness and I have to switch off the corridor light and run like fury to my room. I get scared in dark alleys. Not that I spend a huge proportion of my time hanging around dubious looking, ill-lit streets.
67. Have you ever eaten paste?
Yes. I ate some icing paste when I made a cake for someone a while ago. Mmm, yummy red sugary goodness. Also in Bratislava, the waitress brought out a nubbin of brownish paste on a plate for me to spread on the complimentary bread. To this day I don't know what it was but it tasted like a sawdust-y cow.
68. Do you have a webcam?
No.
69. Have you ever stripped?
I'm intrigued - who answers 'no' to this question? But if you mean in a chicka-chicka-bow way, then no.
70. Name all the places you have gone to for vacation:
Wales, Hastings, Sheffield, Windsor, The Netherlands, Germany, Sicily, France, Turkey, Greece, Hong Kong, Poland, Hungary, Slovakia, Croatia, Austria.
All of which leads neatly onto the promised...
'What I Did On My Holidays' bit
Part I: Warsaw
So, an inhumanely early start on Bank Holiday Monday, up at 3am to make the 7am check-in time at Gatwick. Having booked our tickets on the British Airways website, we get to use the super-efficient self-check in machines. It's amazing how impressed I am by anything with a touch screen. By the time we're all done changing currency and getting rid of our bags, we have an extravagant breakfast in Giraffe. Whilst waiting for our boarding call we spy a man who looks suspiciously like a Eastern bloc native. He is sporting the somewhat giveaway outfit of purple shellsuit bottoms teamed with Hi-Tec trainers and a chunky-knit jumper. Shortly after espying our new friend, he proceeds to take off his socks and trainers and do some very vigorous exercises. One of which includes him lying face up on the bench and enthusiastically thrusting his hips up and down in a rather disconcerting manner. Thankfully he wasn't on our flight but unfortunately I make the mistake of accepting a cheese sandwich and after one bite, I immediately regret it.
A mere two hours later, we arrive in Warsaw airport and we are greeted enthusiastically by various family members. We are whisked off to the centre of Warsaw to meet Jadzia, our tour guide for the city. After being fed sandwiches with a high pickled vegetable content she takes us on a little trip to the pretty Wilanow Palace and Park on the outskirts of the city.
The palace is very much modelled on the style of the French court with its immaculately manicured botanical gardens and the ornate gilded furniture and eau-de-nil and blossom pink walls. Walking through the gates however, you are greeted by what looks like a French-palace-on-acid. The exterior has been restored to its original hue of eye-blisteringly bright buttercup yellow and teal. Anyway, after that little jaunt and the early flight, we're all thoroughly shattered and retire to our hotel for the night. As first through the door I bag the room with the double bed and in my excitement, I forget to take off my backpack before jumping on the bed which results in me doing my best beetle-on-its-back impression.
Anyway, the next day it's off to see the Royal Castle and after sampling a Polish breakfast (think lots of cold cuts and cheese and eggs drenched in mayonnaise), we catch a bus to the Old Town.
It's very quaint and picturesque and although it was rebuilt after the war, it doesn't feel like a reconstructed tourist trap. The market square is ringed by little pretty colourful townhouses, most of which feature intricate geometric patterns and mythological carved images. The exterior of the Royal Castle itself is a mishmash of architectural styles, a neo-gothic wing stands next to a French Court style wing. The apartments are lavishly decorated, as can be expected, lots of gilded things, pretty little carriage clocks, Louis XIII furniture, chandeliers and ceiling murals. Still, it doesn't have the charm of the Wilanow Palace but it's all very impressive all the same (I know I'm easily impressed but a throne set against red velvet and a hundred silver eagles is hard to dismiss.)
We have a late lunch in Sekret, a underground restaurant serving Polish cuisine. The cellars that the restaurant itself is one of the remaining original bits of the Old Town that was left untouched by the war. The menu is comprised pretty much of traditional Polish tastes given a contemporary twist and served with a flourish. There's a worrying amount of rabbit and offal on the menu so I go down the safest route and opt for the cod loin which comes served with creamed cabbage and garnished with three boiled beetroots. Try as I might, I can't make my choice sound particularly appetising so you'll just have to take my word that it was delicious and I am now officially a convert to the charms of beetroot.
As Jadzia has work the next day we decide to let her get some rest and we head off to a nearby Jewish cemetary. By this time it's nearly sunset and I start getting the wiggins hanging around a cemetary, Jewish or not. So we repair to a nearby shopping centre and lose ourselves in the novelty of the Polish branches of Marks & Spencer, Sephora and H&M (which still has a few of the Stella McCartney pieces knocking about. It seems that the Poles are no fans of her masculine tailoring. Ho hum.) It's brie and nectarines for dinner and I wow the girls with my excellent Tom Cruise impression while we watch the German version of the E! channel.
Day three and we've got the morning to ourselves as Jadzia is at work. We make our way to Lazienski Park (getting a little lost enroute. It seems that the Polish 171 is as unreliable as the London one.) After wandering about mapless for a while we stumble upon the entrance to the park and we are immediately transported into a lush and verdant backdrop. Hopping bunnies, grazing deer and nodding bluebells would not look out of place here.
First on the agenda are the peacocks which we find by following a crowd of schoolchildren. Jess tries to antagonise the male peacock into spreading his plumage by throwing rocks near him. No such luck. We do however spy one nestling in the trees which apparently means that rain is on the way. We have a quick look at the pretty Palace On The Water which looks like something straight out of an Austen novel. We seek out the Chopin monument which lies at the end of a large ornamental lake and it looks especially impressive with all the cotton blowing about in the breeze. I secretly hope that Chopin's heart (which resides in Warsaw whilst his body is buried in Paris) is embedded in the monument. Again, no such luck, I don't know where his heart lies and it feels somewhat inappropriate to badger the other Chopin admirers at the lake.
By now it's 1pm and we're scheduled to meet Jadzia at the Centre for Contemporary Art which is housed in Ujadowski Castle. It is also unfortunately raining torrentially so I am forced to break out my Kag In A Bag. I am a heavenly vision in salmon pink waterproofs. The gallery itself is tiny considering it's in a castle and most of the stuff is postmodern and/or postcolonial installation type stuff. I hit my first museum gift shop and happily chance upon some saucy lady Mata Hari style postcards. It's off to have lunch at Jadzia's office canteen which is found in a slick steel and glass building - home to the Polish headquarters of Schweppes Coca-Cola, Glaxo-Kline and Disney (i.e. EvilCorp, Inc.) before heading to the central rail station to purchase our tickets to Krakow.
We pay the nearby Palace of Culture & Science a visit for the view from the 30th floor. The palace was a gift from Stalinist Russia in 1955 which prompts all inhabitants we meet to spit on the ground with it's alleged ugliness. In reality, it's just another imposing concrete eyesore which isn't particularly distinguishable from Warsaw's grey and industrial cityscape. However, the view of the city from the palace is impressive even with the overcast skies and the force 9 gales. FACT: The lift up to the 30th floor of the palace goes at an ear-popping six metres per second. Anyway, after all that gallivanting about we're all hankering after our beds and more Polish television, so we get a tram back to our hotel to pack as it's our last night in Warsaw already.
Day four and we only have the morning in Warsaw as our train is at 2pm. We manage to crowbar in some last minute sightseeing by walking to the nearby Saski Park to see the Unknown Soldier memorial monument. The fires in the monument are manned twenty-four hours a day by two soldiers. On the way to the Pope John Paul II collection (which was actually a gift to the Pope from a wealthy art-collector couple) we pass the grand Opera House and also the Polish meridian line. Before we leave for the train station, Jadzia feeds us an extravagant four-course lunch (by course two I'm feeling sick already and cursing the minimal decor for leaving no nook or cranny to hide the excess food.) A taxi to the train station and by 2pm we're waving goodbye to our kind host and on our way to Krakow in an old-fashioned train carriage, straight out of a Hitchcock film.
Popstastic Bit
I've been meaning to talk about the Paris Hilton single, Stars Are Blind for a while now. Even though everything about the track shouldn't work (i.e. the general involvement of Paris Hilton; the resurrection of UB40-esque reggae-pop; the line, "I can make it nice or naughty" etc etc) I find that it has been on repeat quite a bit for the past few days. However, there are various reasons to love Stars Are Blind:
- The general involvement of Paris Hilton
- The album is called Paris Is Burning. AMAZING. Not only does this display a hitherto unseen wit but it also references a documentary about the 1980s New York Vogue-ing drag scene.
- The video features Paris frolicking about on a beach and flashing her misshapen ladygarden (see Heat this week) in a revealing silver dress:
- The track is the equivalent of this track is a Long Island Iced Tea: superficially sweet and boozy but deceptively addictive.
There's a lot of talk about Jessica Simpson's new track, A Public Affair which Popjustice have heralded as the 21st century version of Madonna's Holiday. I really wanted to love this track, it's summery and features a drum solo and the phrase "carte blanche" but it just doesn't detract from the fact that this is the Lidl version of Holiday. Let's not even get started on La Simpson's vacant expression which I've only just noticed because the first time I visited that page, I couldn't help staring at her chiffon-encased boobies which I had thrust at me.
Finally, Lily Allen's second single, Smile is out to buy on iTunes. Unfortunately, it's the radio edit which changes the line "When you first left me I was wanting more / but you were fucking that girl next door" to "doing that girl next door". Boo. Anyway, it's still as close to spiteful-post-break-up-revenge-pop-perfection as you can get so go and have a listen.
Survey Bit
It's been a while since I've done a survey. Poached from Stuart.
70 Questions to Start the Summer
1. Do you like someone?
There's someone I like the sound of at the moment but it's more curiosity than full-blown, wobbly-legs, chin-cupped-in-hand daydreaming crush status. Unfortunately, it seems as though Gary Barlow is the closest thing I have to a crush at the moment.
2. Do you hate more than 3 people?
L'horreur! I don't hate anyone. Well, this morning I did - I hated my friend's neighbour for being a cold-hearted, weasel-faced twat but I can't be bothered to waste any energy on hating him.
3. How many places have you lived in?
Only London and quite happily so. In fact, I can't imagine living anywhere other than London, particularly south-east London.
4. What is your favorite candy bar?
Rather surprisingly, given my sweet tooth and general greed, I'm not a fan of chocolate. The only time I buy chocolate is during hormone-induced dazes and then it tends to be whole nut Cadbury bars. Or Green & Black's if I'm feeling particularly extravagant and I want to comfort myself with the fact that it's organic and therefore not guilt-inducing.
5. What are your favorite shoes?
If we were judging this on the shoes that I wear most often, then it would be Converse. Really, my favourite shoes are my red patent wedges that I can't walk in. And the shoes that I most covet are the Marc Jacobs bottle-green sequinned Mary-Janes. So take from that what you will.
6. Have you ever tripped someone?
If only. I'm usually the person who ends up face on floor unfortunately.
7. What was your least favorite subject this year?
My Television & Cultural Change unit which sounded a lot sexier than it actually was.
8. What was your favorite subject this year?
Postmodern Literature. I find that dropping 'meta' and 'self-reflexive' into any sentance virtually guarantees that my answer is correct.
9. Do you own a Britney Spears CD?
Only My Prerogative: Greatest Hits which is neatly sandwiched in between Sugababes and The Strokes in my CD collection. I also don't like the sneery tone of this question; what respectable popophile's record collection would be complete without La Spears's oeuvre?
10. Have you ever thrown up in public?
No. (Except I'm lying.) I guess the first time I did it was through no fault of my own. I was 7 and had the flu and my mother insisted on dragging me out to the shops to run some errands. As all mothers are wont to do, she wrapped me up like a Christmas turkey and encased in ten thousand layers, I was left next to the Pick & Mix counter in Woolworth's feeling more than a little peaky. Unfortunately, I couldn't hold back the gushing torrent of sick that was rushing through my alimentary canal and I was sick in my snood. The second time was alcohol induced and shamefully recent. Let us speak of it no more.
11. Name something that's always on your mind.
The same as everyone else I guess. Food, pop music, television and sex.
12. What is your favorite music genre?
Girl-band, arms-aloft, glitter-ball electro-pop.
13. What's your sign?
Why does this survey feel like a particularly awkward date? Le sigh. Scorpio.
14. What time were you born?
Around 3:30pm. End of school time.
15. Do you like beer?
Eww, no. I'm a lady, I don't drink such neanderthal beverages.
16. Have you ever made a prank call?
Many a time. I always failed miserably at them when I was younger but as I've gotten older and better at lying, I've perfected the art.
17. What is the most embarrassing CD you own?
Well, I think that by most people's standards my whole record collection is a trawl through the bottom of the pop barrel with Hanson being a particularly low point. But I think that my large collection of Ooberman CDs is pretty cringeworthy. Fey indie-pop rubbish. What was I thinking?
18. Are you sarcastic?
When I was a teenager it was my default mode but I've realised that it's not very becoming and it comes across as a little nasty so I've stopped.
19. What are your favorite colors?
Again with the awkward date questions. You would think that it was pink but it isn't. When I was about 14 I was obsessed with purple and tried to compile an entirely purple wardrobe and even attempted to get people to nickname me 'Purple'. Thankfully that didn't catch on. Which is somewhat of a roundabout way of saying that I don't have a favourite colour.
21. Summer or winter?
Winter. Because it's nearer my birthday; Christmas is during winter; there's the slight possibility of snow; winter clothing is nicer and it gives me an excuse to stay at home watching TV in my bedsocks and duvet.
22. Spring or fall?
Both. Autumn boasts my birthday and spring has fluffy bunnies and bleeting sheep and cheap confectionary ahoy.
23. What is your favorite color to wear?
Like every other girl at the moment, green. The green section in my wardrobe has increased from nil to 10 items in the past 12 months.
24. Pepsi or Sprite?
Neither. They're both the short-pants karaoke version of Coca-Cola and 7-up respectively.
25. What color is your cell phone?
Hot pink. I'm a little ashamed to own the phone that Chantelle Houghton is flogging at the moment but it's so thin and teeny.
26. is blank? hmm?
Uh-oh awkward date awkward silence. I'll just take this opportunity to slope off to the toilet to powder my nose and send an SOS text.
27. Have you ever slapped someone?
Rather shamefully, yes. It was a complete stranger who was rewarded with my wrath after grabbing my arse. I have also been slapped and it left a rather comedy red hand print on my face. Obviously, it wasn't so comedy at the time.
28. Have you ever had a cavity?
When I was younger I had a fair few. I actually spent a large proportion of my formative years in the dentist. Hard as it is to believe (and please try not to split your sides at the mere thought) my problem was that my mouth wasn't big enough. So many an afternoon was spent in a sweaty cramped orthodontist's office having my mouth prodded with various wires.
29. How many lamps are in your bedroom?
Two. One on my desk and one next to my bed.
30. How many video games do you own?
Exactly four. I was considering selling my Nintendo SNES for which I only ever owned two games which were both Donkey Kong games. The other two were during my Gameboy Advance phase and one was a Harry Potter game and the other one was the excellent Yoshi's Island (which I still have yet to clock.)
31. What was your first pet?
It was a kitten called Lily. In retrospect, I was much too young for a kitten and it was taken away from me because I had a tendency to swing it round by its tail.
32. Have you ever had braces?
Yes, when I was 14. Rather oddly, only on the top row of my teeth.
33. Do looks matter?
Not really but unfortunately they kind of do. I find myself very much attracted to unconventional looking men and have in the past fallen for boys who aren't my type at all because (trite as it sounds) their personality did it for me. But I guess on a more basic level, physical attraction as a quick-quick-make-babies! mechanism make looks important.
34. Do you use Chapstick?
No. And neither should you. It just dries out your lips. Vasaline is the worst culprit for this. I am a slave to the transformative powers of Eve Lom's Kiss Mix, MAC Tinted Balm and Clinique Superbalm.
35. Name 3 teachers from your school.
Mr. Smith: my History teacher who used to spend the lessons talking to us about that week's episode of This Life. Mr. Turner: my Resistant Materials DT teacher who was the biggest oddball. He used to wear flamboyantly printed shirts (pink elephants etc), had a feather earring and claimed that he was a model for Jean-Paul Gautier in the past. He also had a "stomach ulcer" (read: nervous breakdown) and had to leave. Mr. Thomason: my art teacher who completely put me off art. He was Danish and had an unnerving way of wearing his trousers in a spectacularly low-slung way.
36. American Eagle or Abercrombie?
There's a difference between them?
37. Are you too forgiving?
Absolutely.
38. How many children do you want?
At the moment the answer is none and also for the forseeable future as I don't particularly get on well with children. However, I imagine that as I hit my late 20s the ticking of the dreaded biological clock will drown out any reason and common sense that I have held onto until now.
39. Do you own something from Hot Topic?
I own something from the Emily Strange line which is close enough.
40. What is your favorite breakfast?
I've recently taken a liking to Fitness which is like a wheatier and bigger-flake version of Special K.
41. Do you own a gun?
No. I must say, these aren't the kind of questions that I would associate with the beginning of summer. Or indeed any other season.
42. Have you ever thought you were in love?
Yes. Emphasis on the "thought".
43. When was the last time you cried?
I honestly can't remember. I'm not moved to tears particularly easily. Although I did get a little choked up during the finale of Never Forget on Saturday. Perhaps I shouldn't admit that.
44. What did you do 3 days ago?
It was Friday, so I had just gotten back from Eastern Europe a day before. I had a hectic schedule of sleeping only interrupted by laundry and packing in preparation for my weekend in Milton Keynes.
45. When was the last time you went to Olive Garden?
Er, never. Even with my penchant for eating whole tubs of olives at a time, the Olive Garden doesn't sound like a place I want to frequent.
46. Have you ever called your teacher mom?
As far as I can remember, no but it sounds like the kind of thing I might have done.
47. Have you ever been in a castle?
Never until my trip to Eastern Europe where I crammed a whole lifetime's worth of castles and palaces into 3 weeks. There was Wilanow Palace, Warsaw; Wawal Castle, Krakow; Bratislava Castle; the Royal Palace and Citadella in Budapest and Diocletian's Palace in Split.
48. What are your nicknames?
They don't bear repeating because I loathe them. But it's gotten past the point where I can repair any damage and even my friend's parents have taken to calling me by my Hateful Nickname. My PE teacher once forgot my name and called me "Naan" and that crops up occasionally much to the amusement of my friends.
49. Do you know anyone named Bertha?
No but I would love to. Mainly because I would nickname her Big Bertha.
50. Have you ever been to Kentucky Fried Chicken?
Yes. And almost always instantly regretted it afterwards.
51. Do you own something from Banana Republic?
No but I own a couple of things from Gap. I have no standards whatsoever. My boycott of Gap ended abruptly as soon as the accessories designer from Marc Jacobs moved to Gap.
52. Are you thinking about somebody right now?
Yes. But again not in that hubba-hubba-woof! kind of way.
53. Have you ever called someone Boo?
As in the sickening term of endearment? No. I've said "boo" to people in a childish manner.
54. Do you smoke?
No. When I was younger I tried to cultivate a smoking habit but I hated the taste too much to overcome it in order to look cool.
55. Do you own a diamond ring?
I don't own anything diamond. Mainly because I would promptly lose it.
56. Are you happy with your life right now?
Today not so much. I've spent too much time worrying about the scary future and mundane everyday things like money. But generally, I've nothing to worry about. Although I guess that doesn't mean that there are aspects that I would like changed.
57. Do you dye your hair?
Not so much anymore. I sometimes have the urge to dye my hair wicked-witch-blackest-black but I end up looking like Brian Molko. I used to have a blonde chunk in my fringe and before that blonde tips which were intermittently dyed pink and on one disasterous occasion, green.
58. Does anyone like you?
In a that nudge-nudge-wink-wink way? Sadly, not as far as I know.
59. What year were you born?
Nineteen eighty-three.
60. What were you doing May of 1994?
I was finishing primary school and having a fall-out with my then-best-friend.
61. Do you own a Backstreet Boys CD?
Yes, exactly four. One album and three singles.
62. McDonald's or Wendy's?
McDonald's. But again, it's an option that you inevitably regret afterwards.
63. Do you like yourself?
Yes. I'm quite the catch.
64. Are you closer to your mother or father?
When I was younger, it was my mother because my dad worked long hours and had to come home and be stern pater which scared me. Now, it's reversed and I get along better with my father which isn't to say that I don't get along with mater.
65. Favorite feature of the opposite sex?
Ah, it doesn't take much to please me. Just give me a lovely boy who can make me laugh and is smart and is willing to put up with my inane chatter about pop culture and I'm happy. I find that asking a boy who his favourite member of Girls Aloud is rather telling. As much as I heart Tweedy, I would want the kind of boy who finds the less obvious charms of Nicola or Kimberly more alluring. But if we're being superficial we can include: decent haircut, some semblance of sartorial awareness and nice eyes. Even more shallow and vacuous? Bums.
66. Are you afraid of the dark?
It depends. When I was younger I was. Now I prefer sleeping in as dark a room as possible. However, I do get a little wigged out when going up the stairs in darkness and I have to switch off the corridor light and run like fury to my room. I get scared in dark alleys. Not that I spend a huge proportion of my time hanging around dubious looking, ill-lit streets.
67. Have you ever eaten paste?
Yes. I ate some icing paste when I made a cake for someone a while ago. Mmm, yummy red sugary goodness. Also in Bratislava, the waitress brought out a nubbin of brownish paste on a plate for me to spread on the complimentary bread. To this day I don't know what it was but it tasted like a sawdust-y cow.
68. Do you have a webcam?
No.
69. Have you ever stripped?
I'm intrigued - who answers 'no' to this question? But if you mean in a chicka-chicka-bow way, then no.
70. Name all the places you have gone to for vacation:
Wales, Hastings, Sheffield, Windsor, The Netherlands, Germany, Sicily, France, Turkey, Greece, Hong Kong, Poland, Hungary, Slovakia, Croatia, Austria.
All of which leads neatly onto the promised...
'What I Did On My Holidays' bit
Part I: Warsaw
So, an inhumanely early start on Bank Holiday Monday, up at 3am to make the 7am check-in time at Gatwick. Having booked our tickets on the British Airways website, we get to use the super-efficient self-check in machines. It's amazing how impressed I am by anything with a touch screen. By the time we're all done changing currency and getting rid of our bags, we have an extravagant breakfast in Giraffe. Whilst waiting for our boarding call we spy a man who looks suspiciously like a Eastern bloc native. He is sporting the somewhat giveaway outfit of purple shellsuit bottoms teamed with Hi-Tec trainers and a chunky-knit jumper. Shortly after espying our new friend, he proceeds to take off his socks and trainers and do some very vigorous exercises. One of which includes him lying face up on the bench and enthusiastically thrusting his hips up and down in a rather disconcerting manner. Thankfully he wasn't on our flight but unfortunately I make the mistake of accepting a cheese sandwich and after one bite, I immediately regret it.
A mere two hours later, we arrive in Warsaw airport and we are greeted enthusiastically by various family members. We are whisked off to the centre of Warsaw to meet Jadzia, our tour guide for the city. After being fed sandwiches with a high pickled vegetable content she takes us on a little trip to the pretty Wilanow Palace and Park on the outskirts of the city.
The palace is very much modelled on the style of the French court with its immaculately manicured botanical gardens and the ornate gilded furniture and eau-de-nil and blossom pink walls. Walking through the gates however, you are greeted by what looks like a French-palace-on-acid. The exterior has been restored to its original hue of eye-blisteringly bright buttercup yellow and teal. Anyway, after that little jaunt and the early flight, we're all thoroughly shattered and retire to our hotel for the night. As first through the door I bag the room with the double bed and in my excitement, I forget to take off my backpack before jumping on the bed which results in me doing my best beetle-on-its-back impression.
Anyway, the next day it's off to see the Royal Castle and after sampling a Polish breakfast (think lots of cold cuts and cheese and eggs drenched in mayonnaise), we catch a bus to the Old Town.
It's very quaint and picturesque and although it was rebuilt after the war, it doesn't feel like a reconstructed tourist trap. The market square is ringed by little pretty colourful townhouses, most of which feature intricate geometric patterns and mythological carved images. The exterior of the Royal Castle itself is a mishmash of architectural styles, a neo-gothic wing stands next to a French Court style wing. The apartments are lavishly decorated, as can be expected, lots of gilded things, pretty little carriage clocks, Louis XIII furniture, chandeliers and ceiling murals. Still, it doesn't have the charm of the Wilanow Palace but it's all very impressive all the same (I know I'm easily impressed but a throne set against red velvet and a hundred silver eagles is hard to dismiss.)
We have a late lunch in Sekret, a underground restaurant serving Polish cuisine. The cellars that the restaurant itself is one of the remaining original bits of the Old Town that was left untouched by the war. The menu is comprised pretty much of traditional Polish tastes given a contemporary twist and served with a flourish. There's a worrying amount of rabbit and offal on the menu so I go down the safest route and opt for the cod loin which comes served with creamed cabbage and garnished with three boiled beetroots. Try as I might, I can't make my choice sound particularly appetising so you'll just have to take my word that it was delicious and I am now officially a convert to the charms of beetroot.
As Jadzia has work the next day we decide to let her get some rest and we head off to a nearby Jewish cemetary. By this time it's nearly sunset and I start getting the wiggins hanging around a cemetary, Jewish or not. So we repair to a nearby shopping centre and lose ourselves in the novelty of the Polish branches of Marks & Spencer, Sephora and H&M (which still has a few of the Stella McCartney pieces knocking about. It seems that the Poles are no fans of her masculine tailoring. Ho hum.) It's brie and nectarines for dinner and I wow the girls with my excellent Tom Cruise impression while we watch the German version of the E! channel.
Day three and we've got the morning to ourselves as Jadzia is at work. We make our way to Lazienski Park (getting a little lost enroute. It seems that the Polish 171 is as unreliable as the London one.) After wandering about mapless for a while we stumble upon the entrance to the park and we are immediately transported into a lush and verdant backdrop. Hopping bunnies, grazing deer and nodding bluebells would not look out of place here.
First on the agenda are the peacocks which we find by following a crowd of schoolchildren. Jess tries to antagonise the male peacock into spreading his plumage by throwing rocks near him. No such luck. We do however spy one nestling in the trees which apparently means that rain is on the way. We have a quick look at the pretty Palace On The Water which looks like something straight out of an Austen novel. We seek out the Chopin monument which lies at the end of a large ornamental lake and it looks especially impressive with all the cotton blowing about in the breeze. I secretly hope that Chopin's heart (which resides in Warsaw whilst his body is buried in Paris) is embedded in the monument. Again, no such luck, I don't know where his heart lies and it feels somewhat inappropriate to badger the other Chopin admirers at the lake.
By now it's 1pm and we're scheduled to meet Jadzia at the Centre for Contemporary Art which is housed in Ujadowski Castle. It is also unfortunately raining torrentially so I am forced to break out my Kag In A Bag. I am a heavenly vision in salmon pink waterproofs. The gallery itself is tiny considering it's in a castle and most of the stuff is postmodern and/or postcolonial installation type stuff. I hit my first museum gift shop and happily chance upon some saucy lady Mata Hari style postcards. It's off to have lunch at Jadzia's office canteen which is found in a slick steel and glass building - home to the Polish headquarters of Schweppes Coca-Cola, Glaxo-Kline and Disney (i.e. EvilCorp, Inc.) before heading to the central rail station to purchase our tickets to Krakow.
We pay the nearby Palace of Culture & Science a visit for the view from the 30th floor. The palace was a gift from Stalinist Russia in 1955 which prompts all inhabitants we meet to spit on the ground with it's alleged ugliness. In reality, it's just another imposing concrete eyesore which isn't particularly distinguishable from Warsaw's grey and industrial cityscape. However, the view of the city from the palace is impressive even with the overcast skies and the force 9 gales. FACT: The lift up to the 30th floor of the palace goes at an ear-popping six metres per second. Anyway, after all that gallivanting about we're all hankering after our beds and more Polish television, so we get a tram back to our hotel to pack as it's our last night in Warsaw already.
Day four and we only have the morning in Warsaw as our train is at 2pm. We manage to crowbar in some last minute sightseeing by walking to the nearby Saski Park to see the Unknown Soldier memorial monument. The fires in the monument are manned twenty-four hours a day by two soldiers. On the way to the Pope John Paul II collection (which was actually a gift to the Pope from a wealthy art-collector couple) we pass the grand Opera House and also the Polish meridian line. Before we leave for the train station, Jadzia feeds us an extravagant four-course lunch (by course two I'm feeling sick already and cursing the minimal decor for leaving no nook or cranny to hide the excess food.) A taxi to the train station and by 2pm we're waving goodbye to our kind host and on our way to Krakow in an old-fashioned train carriage, straight out of a Hitchcock film.
