London

Had a bit of a twenty something moment today. I was in a meeting with several of my coworkers and somehow it came up that I was 26. You'd have thought I'd just confessed to murder by the expressions of shock and confusion that followed. Apparently I'm immature for my age. Thanks team. It did remind me why I started this blog though- to bask in the age where you can put off all that settling down business. The only issue is that now I'm on the downwards slope out of my twenties and into a life of responsibility. Clearly my attitude is still back in the vicinity of 23 so hopefully this acts as proof that you're only as old as you feel you are...

26 does sound awfully grown up though. In Europe when you turn 26 you stop getting discounts at art galleries, museums and other tourist attractions. I wonder who decided that 26 was the age where you earn enough to pay full price? Clearly someone who doesn't work in radio.

When I landed in London, the first stop of my wee OE, I was still 25. I'd like to say that I took full advantage of cheap admission prices and saw everything there was to see but I'd be lying. Truthfully, we did very little in London. It was just so exciting to be there that we didn't need to.

One of the first things that Julia and I discovered on our trip is that travelers fall into one of two groups; those who list tick and those who don't . We fall into the latter. List tickers are those people who spend hours getting to a tourist destination only to spend five minutes actually there (four of which are spent hiding behind a camera lens). I just can't be one of those people.

Sure, taking photos is important and getting the cliché shots is fun but you also need to just be in a place. It sounds corny but London is one of those places that you can just wander around and be amazed by everything that locals don't even notice. Classic example of this was me rushing to get a look at a squirrel just outside of Buckingham palace. Apparently this is comparable to someone fascinated by the sight of a sheep in rural New Zealand.

The first full day we had in London wasn't planned and for that reason it was fantastic. There is nothing like the feeling of being on the other side of the world with nothing to do but explore. It is truly liberating. Where list tickers would be frantically trying to navigate the underground or paying some tour company too much, Julia and I were wandering about aimlessly, getting schoolgirl excited as we caught our first glimpse of Big Ben and stumbled upon Trafalgar square.

Even the grim weather was an attraction for me because it felt like London should. Bundling up in a coat and trudging around with hands shoved in my pockets, I didn't feel like a tourist, I felt like a Londoner....right up until I had to pay for anything that required change (cue me holding each coin up within an inch of my face so I could see how much it was worth).

We were lucky and had our own personal guides for the rest of our time there (you can't really be a kiwi without at least one expat mate living in London can you?). They were also kind enough to let us crash so we didn't have to haemorrhage cash for a poorly rated backpackers. This was especially great for us who were still thinking in Kiwi dollars (tip: convert your thinking to the currency immediately after you arrive or buying a coffee will bring a tear to your eye).

My London experience wasn't completely unplanned mind you. My now Londoner friend Kylie is very organised and had us buy tickets to the West End version of The Lion King months in advance. This was a very good thing. The tickets were really reasonable and the show was a-mazing. If like me, you're a nineties child then you are 90% guaranteed to be a Disney fan and this production will not disappoint. Had to refrain pretty hard from singing along to “I just can't wait to be King”.

If you're looking for a list of other 'must dos' in London though, this is not the blog for you. In fact, I can sum up all you really need to do there in just two words: look up.

This picture of St Paul's Cathedral is just one of the many reasons why:  

Come away with me...

Kiaora!

The last time I heard that word I was being shouted at by a Greek woman trying to sell me various smoking and coffee drinking appliances in Athens. I was so impressed that a) she wasn't shouting “Australia!” and b) she knew a word from an indigenous, almost extinct language that I ended up buying some of her 'authentic' wares.

Funnily enough I haven't heard it once since being back in the land of the long white cloud.

It's been over a week since I touched down in Auckland after seven weeks backpacking around Europe and I'm already well and truly back to reality. The unused phone books and issues of Ponsonby news are still piling up outside our apartment elevator, the hand towel dispenser at work is still broken and the gym still sucks. Oh wait, KFC make pies now. That's different.

I don't know what I expected, that I'd come back with a whole new outlook on life or something. Am I eager to detox and change my life for the better somehow? Nup. Think I might just hang in nostalgia land for a bit. Enter le Blog; aka my excuse to say “Well, when I was in (insert exotic location here)” to my heart's content, without having to see people giving each other a look that asks “When will she stop banging on about it?”.

So if you're tired of the impending doom of Winter or the prospect of several months before a holiday, come away with me as I relive my trip via this blog. It could even be educational. You see often I found myself in situations that were less than ideal at the time but actually quite amusing in retrospect. Many of these issues could have been avoided if I'd known what I know now. Essentially, you get to laugh at my misfortune and maybe learn a thing or two about travelling through Europe on a budget, without a plan and little to no sense of direction.

Here's the very first thing I learnt: no matter how prepared you think you are, you WILL forget something. I discovered this at Auckland airport, precisely 15 minutes before I was due to board my plane to London.

Trying to do the right thing, I decided I should drink some water to hydrate myself for the flight. So there I was, waiting in line to pay too much for my teency bottle of water when it dawned on me that I had no idea what my credit card pin number was. With a sinking feeling I realised I'd only used it for online purchases and recently had to renew it (and the pin).

The line had disappeared by this point so I took a stab in the dark and failed. Not having any other cash on me I mumbled something and bolted, leaving the water at the counter. This was not good. Realising I should try to remember the pin before I left the country for seven weeks, I tried my luck at an ATM. Just for reference, do not try your luck at an ATM. It will get hungry and on the third try will eat your card and “retain it for security purposes”. Seeing those little words on the screen was not fun, not fun at all.

Thankfully this was my spare card so I didn't have to plot a way to fund my trip once in London (cause it's easy to get a job over there right?). The incident did make every other cash withdrawal on the trip an uncomfortable experience though. Every time the card was sucked into the machine I saw my sole source of funds disappearing into the mouth of another evil ATM.

I 'forgot' that you should steer clear of alcohol on long haul flights after that.

So what can you take from this? All I can say is don't sweat the list thing because there will always be something you leave off. That, and memorise the shit out of every pin, phone and policy number you have.

Here's one more tip. Don't go on an overseas trip when your hair is in the awkward 'growing out' phase. You'll be overwhelmed with the number of photos that remind you of the fact and it's not pleasant. Take this otherwise lovely shot of Primrose Hill, London....yup, I'm the one on the left.