Keeping the Festive Spirit Alive

The boys just lurve their secret santa presents.

Office secret santa pressie swap, complete with girl Santa Dawn.  It was meant to be boy Santa John, but one size definitely does not fit all, and those santa pants will never be the same again.

Andrew's gift - candy nipple tassles, to be used in the event of sexy time.

Now Dawn, you may be petite, but that reindeer is still looking a few kgs shy of a decent ride home.

Harry's secret santa present - chosen and made by yours truly.  The pornographic gingerbread men were the surprise hit of the night.  The stress boobs will come in handy (get it) I'm sure.

Close up.  Disclaimer: Santa does not condone kiddie porn.

Christmas in Eburger is in full swing.  The proof is in the turkey.  Please look away if you are appalled by gratuitous shots of turkey carcass.

The comparatively sedate table, devoid of food throwing and carcass fondling.  This was moments before I got hit in the face with a projectile rasher of bacon.


Yvonne is about to fling a deadly brussel sprout.  The little fuckers were rock hard and bloody hurt.  Seriously though, the food was better for throwing than eating.

Dawn and Michelle save the turkey from further humiliations.

Michelle moves from turkey to chicken boob (blessedly not a real chicken boob).  Moments later, Jonathon the inexplicably munted guy to her right grabbed said boob and flung it over his shoulder to the other table, where it knocked a glass of wine all over the MD.  To her credit, our boss didn't lose her shit, but it did signify the end of Christmas Food Fight 2010.

Aem no' trouble, youse is trouble!

Pretending to enjoy the disappointing pudding.  Oscars all round.

Oh lovely ladies of the dance, show us yer stuff.

The boys in blue.  Lending serious credence to the running joke that they all call eachother up the night before a party to decide what to wear.

Ugh, the end of the night, and thing fall apart.

Hither the weather is is winter

In the Botannical Gardens enroute to the village of Eburger for what turned into a very boozy afternoon pub sesh.  I forget how many bottle of red wine were consumed.  It's for the best you know.

These shots are before th snow got crazazy - when it was all still fun and games, albeit on the brrr side.

It starts to get a little crazy.

Outside my office on Dundas Street.  Can't wait for those footpaths to become icy sheets of wrath.

The park near our place at sunset (3pm)

Christmas markets.  We stayed a while, until I couldn't feel my toes under four layers of woolley sock.

Refreshing summer cocktails may seem a little out of place, but it was better than waiting in an hour long line for mulled wine.

All that watching - and for what?

Well, as you may or may not be aware, a hotly-anticipated trip to Barcelona last Friday, (I have been glued to my Lonely Planet for the last month or so, dreaming of Gaudi marvels and the plane tickets have been in my hands since September) was cancelled at the last minute.  We'd been glued to the TV weather reports all week, all regular activities were temporarily suspended the moment a perky, well-dressed presenter trundled on screen with his/her dinky little Met Office map.  We listened with undiverted attention to any reports regarding Edinburgh airport.  We even went as far as to cancel our hotel booking, so as not to be charged in the case of a no show, thinking we'd just book something when (if) we managed to land in Barcelona.

See, here in Eburger, nay the UK, we've been having the sudden (and horribly early) cold snap to end all snaps.  It's plunged to minus 8, and for the last 9 days, we've had 2 days where it hasn't snowed relentlessly, all day.  Now I hear what you're saying my fellow Europeans, and all you North Americans out there, minus 8 and a week of snow?  Childs play.  Yes indeed, children are having fun, and no doubt the proprietors of those ski 'resorts' in northern scotland are rubbing their hands with glee. 

Or they would be, if anyone could get there.  Thus, the problem.  Getting anywhere in these conditions in this country is downright dangerous, if not impossible.  Roads turn to ice, or slush before the gritters have time to finish their 2nd round of morning tea.  Airports remain closed because they can't clear snow off the runway, and cheapo companies refuse to de-ice planes, or pay to have it done. Lorries jack knife because they fail to take in to account the newly treacherous driving conditions.  Traffic comes to a standstill, buses are sent back to depots, and thousands of people are left stranded at their offices, in their homes.  Supermarkets are cleaned out, and no-one delivers fresh supplies - people panic buy in apocalyptic proportions.

I'm not being melodramatic here, these things are happening all over the eastern side of the UK.  From north to south, British infrastructure has all but completely collapsed.  It would be laughable, if it weren't so lamentable - and it's so ridiculously avoidable.  Better preparations, more supplies, enforcing the use of winter tyres, SNOW PLOUGHS! GRIT!

Today, Stu headed off to Stirling. He was excited about his second day at a new job - should've been his second week, but he couldn't get there for the better part of last week.  Ordinarily, this would be a 50 minute drive of about 30 miles.  During the calamity of the 'big freeze' that has been this fortnight, he's left the house at 7:15 in the hope of being at work by 9am.  Today, he left the house at 7:30, and he made it to work by 9am, only to find out that the office was closed due to snow (um, it's an office, you work inside).  He turned around to head home, with mixed feelings about his 5th reprieve from the rigours of the daily slog.  He only just got home, and it's now 3:30pm.  That's travelling at an average of 5 miles an hour, for 6 hours.

Anyway, enough ranting for now, the point of my story, before I was distracted with rage is this: Edinburgh airport was open last Friday night.  Flights were coming and going, albeit not in the usual volumes, and with significant delays due to the weather.

Our flight to Barcelona?  Cancelled due to unexpected country-wide air traffic control walk out in Spain.

Star Wars

So it seems like we'll be going to Iceland in February.  Madness you say?  Madness maybe, but I've check it out, and apparently Reykjavik is blessed with practically subtropical February temperatures when compared to its neighbouring regions (including frosty Eburger) - minimums of minus 3!  I've hooked up some extreme weather gear with my Finnish mate at work, but it doesn't even look like I'll need it now.  Minus 3 is but a walk in the park for my hardened, albeit creaky bones!

Besides, I'd put up with a little frozen blood to see this:


and this:



Wouldn't you?

On top of that - flights, 3 nights at the Hilton in Reykjavik (fuck that's a difficult word to type, but what a pleasure to say...), a northern lights tour AND a spa all day for £300.

Tick off one more 'must see' before I die.

Bring it!

A Little Long in the Tooth...

I know this took a while coming through, but here is Australia post mark 2:

Absolutely NO apologies for the gratuitous number of food pics in this post.  Fresh, gorgeous vegetables, fruit and other delectables I had sorely missed (ok, so I'm not completely without, but there's just something to be said for fresh Aussie produce - especially when it doesn't have to be shipped halfway around the world prior to consumption).

There's also a fair few number of drinky drinky shots.  Cause that's what we did.  A. Lot.

Cue Jules and Stu + bevvies:

What did I tell thee?  Roasted vegetable goodness straight from the Adelaide Central Markets, which, P.S, are WAAAAAY more expensive than I remembered.

Awww.  Stu and the Rock.

Salmon on the BBQ - yumoo!

Crushed new potatoes, roasted sweet potatoes, feta and herb salad.

Salsa and Tzatsiki, all of these foods made by moi, bien sur!  The salsa has the usual suspects, plus chilli, mango and coriander.  It's a knock out, if I do say so myself.

Stu waiting at the gates of China town.  Me want dumplings, he says.

Another Mez salad, this time featuring that little-revered hero of crunchy delight, the radish.  So good.  Fresh from the farmers markets in Canberra.  Edinburgh, pay attention Canberra has a decent farmers market. 

The gates of Melbourne's Chinatown.  Home away from home.

Rooftop Bar in Melbourne town, on a warm but blustery day which brought with it my lest favourite Aussie Springtime product: Pollen.  Gawd it was a bad day of noses everywhere.  I am quite clearly stifling my gazillionth sneeze here.  Note the strain in my collarbone.

Lord, more roasted veggies.  Might I be a tad obssessed?  I blame Eburger - the only way to deal with cold weather like this is to eat your body weight in roasted goodness, everyday. 

The weirdness.  Both of these expressions are so silly, I just had to include this one.

The delightful Laura in all her Laura-iness.  Miss you!  Also, great little wine bar offering much-needed respite from the pollen attack.

Ahhh, Shanghai Dumpling Village.  Delightful house of delectable dumplings and other delicious delicacies.

My cousin Adrian and his wee boy Alex - at mum and dad's place for brunch in Canberra on a beautiful sunny day.

Adrian's wife Clare, and their little girl Izzy.  I can't quite believe this is the first time I've met Izzy - and what a cute kid!

Blood organes - taking me back to my youf.

Possibly the cutest thing ever - wee man Alex in dad's old school hat.  Looks like dad after a particularly bad Head of the River, no?

Mmmmmmm, the most obscenely good lemon tart I've ever had - made by a french pastry chef who happens to think Canberra's the place to be and has set up shop in town.  We commend his pioneering spirit.

Can I get an 'awwwwwwwwwwww'?  Meanwhile, check out those shades - Stu, you're a dreamboat.

Mum's bloody brilliant (fledgling) herb garden.  I'm seething with jealousy.  Have. To. Have. It.

The infamous chimenea all four girls went in for one Christmas for ma and pa, that only ever got used by us girls at parties now has pride of place in the Canberra yard.  When asked, mum explained that it was mostly being used now to burn off the weeds she's been pulling from the garden.  Ok, well at least it's being used.

Pimms anyone?  Drank a lot of Pimms on this trip.  Thanks Duty Free Sydney.  You have significantly increased my overall rotundness.


Cheers.  My kajillionth Pimms cocktail.

Stu gets arty.  I think he was actually doing this to mock me and my incessant food/drink photography.  Whatever Stu, you've actually managed to create something quite cool by accident.  What. Ever.

Out nation's capital in all it's symmetrical glory.  Seriously though, if you don't really go in for glamour, nightlife, parties and cultural pursuits beyond a bit of ANU Am-Dram, then Canberra does have things to offer - beautiful parks for example.  We went for a lovely walk on our last morning there on the penninsula, and you know, just walking right by the odd kangaroo mob, right in the heart of the city.  Pretty cool.  It's all about the outdoors in the ACT - they got it in spades, and it's quite special.  Also, only 2 hours drive from the Snowy Mountains.  Great for bushwalking in the summertime (love), and skiing, etc in winter (I have issues with winter sports).   ACT should totally hire me to write some tourism promotional crap.  I could edit out the bit about cultural wasteland if you like.

The War Memorial - ie - placating Stu.  He could've spent the entire weekend here.  Fortunately we only had an hour to spare.

Then we flew home.  Same movies on the flight back as they had been on the way over - and they were shit.  Curse you China Airlines, curse you and your stupidly cheap but treacherously unentertaining flights.

The End.