A very emotional day today. It was the day it hit me that I’m going to be on a container ship, for approx. 1.5 months, travelling to Hong Kong!
Joining the ship was easy. I made my way to the Cruise Terminal in Piraeus, the port of Athens and there the agent for this particular cargo line met me. He took care of all my paperwork with the authorities. I was lucky enough to also meet the new Polish Chief Officer who joined the ship with me. He’d been on this ship before and was coming back from his leave. I immediately warmed to his avuncular nature: kind eyes with a weary, yet friendly demeanor, he assured me that any questions I had, he’d be more than happy to answer them.
Don’t think any question is silly.
Ahh, that’s re-assuring.
And so on to the Cargo terminal. A taxi took us to the front gate of the cargo area where I had to clear security. This took about two minutes whilst they inspected my paperwork and passport. The cargo area is huge and it’s not as if you can wander on down to your ship, so we boarded a minibus that drove us around to our ship, my new home for the next one and a half months! We passed several ships on the way.
These are pretty big
I thought, until we rounded a corner and came to a halt. Nothing really prepared me for just how big ‘my’ ship was. I looked up, and up, and up. And there she was in front of me, the Hanjin Boston in all her glory looked like a huge apartment block and as soon as I saw her, I embarrassingly burst into tears! To say I felt overwhelmed is an understatement. Chief Officer smiled good-naturedly at me & patted my shoulder (I think I have a father figure here who’s taken me under his wing). You’ll see from my video how overwhelmed I felt…the emotions expressed in it are no exaggeration.
Shown to my cabin by Nelson, the Steward, I’m sure you’re all intrigued to know whether it’s very basic or not: see for yourself.
My cabin gets cleaned daily and the bed sheets/towels changed once a week. Due to set sail later, wish me luck everyone!
I was getting stressed because I didn’t know what to pack for my trip. I mean, it’s not as if I’m going on a cruise ship where people get dressed to the nines every evening, yet I’m also not going to be down and dirty with the containers (at least, I HOPE not!) So I need to strike a balance: smartish wear for meals in the Officer’s Mess, yet comfortable and sensible seaworthy clothes & shoes, especially for walking around in ports of call and on deck.
Clothes to take
Just as I was getting all stressed out about where to pack all my clothes and other daily goods (electricals, Notebook, camera, Kindle along with their various charging devices), along came Samsonite UK and Neville McCarthy , who handles their PR, to the rescue! They very kindly sent me a Lilac S’Cure polypropylene suitcase with double wheels and triple locking system (wow!), for extra security – a combi luggage strap, a B-Lite fresh Laptop Back Pack – and this is ace as I can fit almost everything in here, including my Notebook), a Fold-Up Tote backpack – this is also great as rather than take the larger backpack, I can take this when on shore for a day or so – and a hanging toiletry bag with lots of internal pockets.
In fact, most of Samsonite’s products have a lot of internal pockets, it’s great! Except for when I loose something and have to hunt around.
Apart from deciding which clothes to take (and in my little video you’ll see I’ve settled for simple clothes), I’m also taking my world map, which I intend to stick on my cabin door and mark with a pen daily, so I know where we are, and my favourite item: the hand-made/hand-bound personal journal, as made for me by a friend. Also, my friend bought me a scarf as a going-away present. This will be great for wrapping up to keep any breeze off, plus double up as a pillow, sheet, just about anything.
This means a lot to me as the craftsmanship that went into it was immense, plus it really is my personal journal.
Beautifully hand bound journal
Take a look at my little video about the packing.
Travel Insurance
Not only is packing clothes so important, but so is Travel Insurance. It’s recommended you never travel without it, especially when going on such an adventurous journey:
William has recently started blogging and writing online. You can find him and his work at a number of websites, including his blog called Blog About ESL, Twitter, andGoogle +,
Today he shares with the League of Expat Writers about teaching TEFL in Cambodia.
My name is Will and I’m an ESL teacher currently living and working in Cambodia. I’m British (English) and I’ve been teaching ESL for about 4 years since I left the UK.
My name is Will
What motivated me to teach ESL abroad?
Well, I’d been thinking about travelling after I graduated from University. I spent 1 year living in West Africa and really enjoyed myself. After this time, I returned to the UK and completed my Master’s degree at the University of East Anglia and was working. I always wanted to travel again and continually looked into teaching English as a means to fund my travels. However, the more I worked, the more I think I became comfortable with the ‘safety’ of working and having a regular income. From this point I guess I slowly gave up the idea of working and teaching abroad, although it always remained in the back of my mind! I went into work one day and was told that some staff members were to be made redundant, but they had not yet made their decision on who that would be. Sensing an opportunity to make my dream come true, I asked for voluntary redundancy and got paid a nice little sum of money in the process. I spend a fair proportion of this on completing my TEFL. Soon after, I sold nearly everything I owned on eBay and bought a one way ticket to Cambodia!
Why Cambodia?
Well, I chose Cambodia for one main reason: I knew somebody already living there! My father was living in Sihanouk Ville (he has since left Cambodia) and I went to see him. Not really liking Sihanouk Ville too much, I decided to head up to Phnom Penh and find work. I worked in Phnom Penh for 2 years at a few different schools and then relocated up to Siem Reap where I now work at a Lecturer of English at a local university here.
I fell in love with Cambodia, but I would definitely like to work in other Asian countries, Chinabeing the top of my list. I think I have a few more years left in Cambodia before I move on! Cambodiais a truly wonderful country, the people are friendly and kind, the weather is great and the lifestyle is very easy going!
There is a real demand for English teachers all over South East Asia.
Cambodian Food!
I love teaching, but one of my other loves in life is food! Cambodia isn’t famous for its culinary delights, but there are some amazing local dishes here. One of the first things that I tried here is the lok-lak. It’s a fried beef dish served on top of raw onions, tomatoes and a bed of lettuce. It’s serviced with rice and a special sauce on the side that is made from salt, pepper and lime.
Another favourite is called Amok. Amok is traditionally eaten with fish, but if you’re like me and don’t care much for fish, it is also cooked with chicken. The amok is not spicy and is traditionally cooked inside a banana leaf. The sauce is made from a variety of local vegetables and herbs and then baked with coconut milk. This is by far one of my favourite Khmer dishes.
So, is it worth it?
When you’re working as a teacher in Cambodia, you can expect a larger salary in comparison to local salaries.
Are you an expat? Would you like to share your tale with Life Beyond Borders? Be sure to Contact me.
As soon as I saw the tagline for “The Journey” (originally “Greece– The Movie”), I knew I wanted to meet the director and team of this project.
One man’s journey to find answers, in a country struggling to find its own
That was it… ‘This is a man who knows Greece, who has been affected by her and her people, who holds Elada close to his heart. I want to meet him, find out more’ I thought. I followed their Facebook page and managed to interview the writer/director Lance Nielsen.
Come to the set in May
he offered. And so I did.
The set
I met up with them on location in Aegina at the Kavos Bay Hotel where the hosts, Irene & Nikos, kindly allow the cast and crew to have run of the place before opening for the summer season in mid-June 2013.
Finally I was getting to meet Lance and his crew, the man whose personal experiences of this country & its people made him fall in love with it enough to want to positively depict Greece, in its time of crisis.
View from the Kavos Bay Hotel
The background
Lance met the majority of his crew in February 2013 at the Guerilla Film Makers workshop in London. Specifically, he met five Greek ladies with various film industry background. The original focus was the screenplay Gaddafi, written by Lance, intended to be filmed either in Cyprus or Crete. This project went as far as the trailer being filmed in August 2012. However, Lance wasn’t content: he wanted a film with Greece as its main focus, not just as a location.
And so “The Journey” was born. Its base is Lance’s personal experiences with the people he meets in this beautiful country, after experiencing two traumatic events in his life within a very short space of time. Later, the title was changed to “The Journey” to more accurately depict one man’s spiritual journey to discover himself, in the face of adversity, in a special country with exceptional people.
The cast & crew
Having settled upon a theme that Lance was happier with, he then set about the script process. And what about the cast?
Lance wrote the script with an actress in mind for one of the main characters; Lindsey Coulson (of BBC One – EastEnders). She takes a lead role, as does Jason Flemyng, with Duncan Pow playing Lance’s fictional character. “The Journey” also features Greek actors Tasos Nousias, Stelios Kalaitzis & Shirin Youssefian, of Persian descent.
On set
Aggeliki introduced me around. Everyone was eating lunch.
“Life Beyond Borders – you write that site!” Shirin enthused. “Yes, I live in Athens and follow you. I’ve left some comments on some of your posts – welcome!”
Blushing I was a little lost for words, and a little overwhelmed that someone from a film set actually knew about me!
Come out with us for the day. We’re not filming a lot today, but you’ll get an idea
So after the introductions and a bite to eat, I squeezed myself into the front of one of the vans with the Stills Photographer, and off we rode in convoy, walkie talkies crackling every now and then to ensure we were all in procession.
Here – this is a good place
Lance crackled into life as we pulled up by a piece of land by a church, gorgeous mountainous views and a small bus stop with shrine next to it.
The next hour was spent filming ‘shorts’ (apparently): small segments of films that, when edited, will look like one long one. Plonking myself under an olive tree, I tried to just watch from the background and not get in the way. But have I already mentioned how friendly the cast and crew were/are?
Come closer – get a better idea
Lance propelled me forward. And so I watched as DuncanPow (“Jason”) was filmed walking up to the bus stop, several times.
And then off to the beach for a different shot. It was later in the day by now, good light for filming a different part of the film.
Make-up artist Christine Nicklin-Rivett chatted with me and was more than happy to explain what was going on – called upon herself often to touch up foundation…don’t forget we were in the searing heat on Aegina island!
Come and get a closer look
Locations
Where is “The Journey” set? In September 2012 the crew came to Greece to scout for locations. For those of you familiar with Greece, when the film’s released you’ll recognise the lesser known islands of Kea & Aegina.
Funding campaign
“The Journey” is self-funded by Lance…he believes in this project so much that he’s prepared to fund it himself, but his pockets aren’t bottomless, and this is where you, my dear readers, come in!
Between 20th June and 20thJuly, a Crowdfunding campaign is being launched on Indiegogo, the aim of which is to raise £30,000. The more you donate and support this project, the more you get back too – as well as the knowledge you’re helping to support a special project. And if you love Greeceas much as I do, hopefully you’ll be moved enough to donate even a little if you can.
There are other ways you can help. Lance and his team will be back in the Spring of 2014 to film again and they’re looking for Drivers, a minibus and fishing boat, amongst other things. Also Assistant Make-Up artists & hairdressers. If you think you can help them in any area, contact Kiki Fotiadou, one of the producers.
I experienced first hand how hard it must be to be an actor on a film…
how hundreds of different scenes are shot, never in order of the film, and how the editor must work hard to put it coherently together – not forgetting excellent backing music to create atmosphere. An actor might be required just to walk into frame briefly, but it may need to be shot lots of times before the director is happy – and then the next scene may require the actor to be incredibly emotional.
Unlike theatrical performances – where the sequence runs in order – film acting looks like hard work to me!Meeting the cast and crew of “The Journey” meant a lot to me. As mentioned previously, I could see through my research and Lance’s depictions and previous interview with him that Greece holds a special place in his heart, mainly due to his experiences with the people encountered. And with all the crap that this country’s experiencing of late, the fact that one man pulled together a fantastic team of people in order to make a movie based here, also utilising Greek cast and crew, should mean a lot to the country too.
Thank you for inviting me to be a part of your team for one day…I truly felt accepted into your fold and it was a pleasure to see you all so hard at work. And a special thanks extends to Irini & family of the Kavos Bay Hotel, Ag. Marina, Aegina.They allowed me to stay free of charge and the warmth and hospitality they extend to the crew goes above and beyond. I look forward to hopefully having the opportunity to go back on set in 2014 to meet the team again.
A short post this time. There are many reasons I love living in Greece, as you’ll have read in my post seven things to love about living in Greece/the Greeks.
Spitting yia yia’s (grannies) is another reason to love Greece – read about that here and also, today I was reminded that I need to pinch myself to remember that I live abroad. I doubt you’d see this in a British or U.S. supermarket:
Priest going about his every day – well, he has to eat.
Yes, even an Orthodox priest needs to eat.
It may seem inconsequential, and I’ve lived here long enough, but small things don’t escape my notice and I still smile to myself.
What things make you sit up and realise you’re living abroad? Do share.
In following with my theme of interviewing authors, today I have the pleasure of interviewing Sofka Zinovieff. She is the successful author of various titles including Eurydice Street: A Place in Athens and Red Princess. Today I interview her about her latest title:
Sofka Zinovieff was born in London and is half-Russian – her father’s parents were both from St Petersburg and escaped to England after the 1917 revolution.
She studied social anthropology at Cambridge(getting a first-class degree). During the late 1980s she lived in Greece for several years, while carrying out research for her PhD thesis.
During the 1990s she lived in Moscow (where she met her Greek husband, Vassilis Papadimitriou), London(where their two daughters were born) and for several years in Rome. She worked as a freelance journalist, writing for mainly British publications including The Independent Magazine, The Telegraph Magazine, The Times Literary Supplement, The Financial Times, the London Magazine.
Sofka, your other Greek book “Eurydice Street…” was based on your experiences of coming to Athensto live. “The House on Paradise Street” is a novel spanning three generations of one family and is based in Greece. How did you go about researching your characters for this? They are so rich and varied, I imagine the research stage of this book, in order to be factually correct, must have taken a long time.
I did my research in various ways, but the most significant one was getting to know people who had been through the sort of experiences I wanted to write about. Above all, this was people who had been alive during the Nazi occupation and the subsequent Civil War. However, I’ve been involved with Greecesince I was a student, I’m married to a Greek, and I have brought up my children in Greece. So although the characters are not specifically based on particular people, I’ve taken various features from those I’ve met over many years. Inevitably, I’ve also used myself to draw on emotions for all sorts of different fictional characters, even if they have lived things I haven’t.
As well as interviewing people, I also did quite a lot of reading and visiting places so I’d get them right. Although the book is fiction, I wanted to be sure of the historical facts that have such a devastating effect on the book’s characters.
Through gentle humour and an ability to warm us to the characters, you lead us through the shocking events of the Greek Civil War and junta years, a period of history that is not very well known about outside of Greece. Why do you think this is? Why is Greece’s modern history not so acknowledged externally?
I’ve been amazed by how many non-Greeks reading the book have said, “I had no idea about the Civil War, and especially that the British army was involved.” These things are not taught in school history lessons. The easy answer might be that Greece was a small theatre of war compared to many others, but I’d suggest that these complex tangles are also much harder to represent with an easy morality of right and wrong that comforts us in justifying war and violence. I found it shocking when I learned that British soldiers, who had fought the Nazis alongside Greek partisans, found themselves only months later, in 1944, killing those same partisans on the streets of Athens. Churchill was determined to stamp out the threat of Communism, but the scars divided Greeks for a long time.
As an ‘adopted Greek,’ did you find parts of the research process painful for you to read, especially regarding British interests in Greece at the time?
I feel privileged to be an adopted Greek in that I can often see things both as an outsider and an insider. But sometimes that means you can feel the pain on both sides too. I found it very difficult to find out about how many young and old women had been imprisoned after the war, merely for having fought the Nazis or supported the partisans. Many of them had their young children with them or even, like Antigone in my story, gave birth in prison. Uncovering the fact that the British had given support to the right wing, some of whom had been Nazi collaborators, and who kept their enemies locked up, or executed them, right into the 1950s and ‘60s, was an unpleasant thing to confront as a Brit. However, I believe that facing up to these things is important. I wanted to write these stories as a novel, so I could get inside the minds of the British as well as the Greeks, in modern Athens as well as in the past.
For me it was particularly enlightening to read about Greece’s modern history, but felt I was discovering it in an interesting way, through the lives of fictitious characters. Thank you for helping me to understand Greece and the Greek mentality…this is what I took from your book: in order to understand the present, one needs to look at the past.
“The House on Paradise Street” is a must read for anyone interested in Greece and the way the country functions now, due to its past. It is both enlightening and touching.
Further information: Sofka moved to Greece in 2001 and lives by the sea outside Athens with Vassilis and their daughters, Anna and Lara. Eurydice Street: A Place in Athens was published by Granta in 2004 (paperback 2005). It received widespread and excellent reviews, was listed as one of the New York Times 100 Notable Books of 2005, and has been translated into 3 languages. Red Princess: A Revolutionary Life is a biography of her Russian grandmother and her controversial and turbulent existence. It was published by Granta in February 2007 and has been translated into 10 languages.
I had a lovely weekend. On Sunday 26th May I was invited by a friend who was performing in a dance for the Dora Stratou Dance Company.
Who are Dora Stratou?
The Dora Stratou Dance Theatre was first established 60 years ago by Dora Stratou herself . She travelled all over Greece, literally “collecting’ the original dances and music from the villages and towns, speaking to the local villagers and learning first hand the dances that emanated from that region. During the summer, every night between May and September, at their open-air theatre behind Philopapou Hill in Athens, 75 dancers, singers and musicians present songs, music and dances in the authentic local costumes which have been painstakingly collected over the years.
Costumes painstakingly hand sewn
The Sunday I was there saw the culmination of a year’s work by students who attend 90 minute classes on a weekly basis, quite often taught by members of the Company.
The little ones were so cute
The location, music and whole ambiance made for a lovely and very different night out. I hope you’ll look them up if you’re in Athens this summer for your holidays this year. Even if not for a performance, the location of their outdoor theatre is magical: near the Acropolis, nestled amongst the trees.
Dora Stratou hopes to see you this summer in Athens!
As you know, my author interviews feature stories of people who’ve made brave journeys around the world or expatriated themselves, as well as Greek fiction/non-fiction. Today I feature Nene Davies whose book, “Distance” I have recently completed. She also featured on my League of Expat Writers.
Review copy of book provided free of charge by the author.
Distance is about one family’s decision to uproot themselves from their home country of Wales to Australia. It is a brave novel that goes beyond sunshine and barbies and looks at the harsh reality of the decision making process of making this step which so many people dream of.
Nene: I am aware that you’re Welsh and have immigrated to Australia.Even though “Distance” is a novel, how much of it mirrors your own reality?
Well it’s true that we emigrated to Australiafrom Walesin 2002 and ‘Distance’ is loosely based on our experiences. However, I think if I had just written what happened with us, the book would have been far too dull! I liked the idea of taking our story and ramping it up with all the ‘what ifs.’ Thankfully our journey was a lot less fraught with difficulties than my fictional family, but I feel sure that things don’t always go according to plan!
Distance examines in detail the conflicting family emotions when one is making a momentous decision to uproot the whole family for a different life. You successfully go into detail about the main character, Isobel’s struggles with her mother and the reader finds oneself really empathising with Isobel.
Was the experience with your own mother just as harrowing? Was she really so distant and cruel? Where do you think these emotions sprang from?
When I told my Mum that we wanted to emigrate, she was shocked and quite worried, to be honest. I think that in Mum’s mind, when people went to Australia, you never saw them again and though we begged her to come with us, Australia was just too remote and too far away for her to even contemplate. However, she did come on holiday. Four times. And she absolutely loved it! Sadly, before we could organise for Mum to join us permanently, she became ill and last year, she passed away. So in short – my Mum was lovely and not at all like Nana Helen in ‘Distance.’ When I was writing the character of Nana Helen, I tried to imagine what it would be like if Mum hadn’t been who she was – again, I thought what if..?
The book is cleverly entitled Distance but I think it refers not only to the geographical distance, but also the growing emotional distance between family.
How hard for you was this book to write if it is very similar to your own experiences? Did your family support the book writing process and like the way they were (fictionally) portrayed?
My family have been fantastic. They have loved the whole process and encouraged me every step of the way. I consulted with them throughout the writing of the book and everyone was just amazing. I was keen for Mum to be happy with how I was portraying the grandmother in the story and I’m so glad that I was able to discuss the novel with her, before she became too poorly. When I had completed the first draft, I read big chunks of the manuscript out loud to Mum, in her nursing home and she was so supportive the whole way through. I’m just so sad that she died before the book was published.
Distance is a brave book with a feel good ending. I would recommend it to anyone contemplating the complexities of changing their lives for good in order to know that you’re not alone in this process…and that it’s ultimately OK to do what you think is good for yourself and your family, and to know there will always be people who won’t approve.
Nene Davies’s cleverly crafted words help us empathise with the main protagonist.
Thanks, Nene, for allowing me the opportunity to review Distance and interview you.
Will there be a follow up about Isobel and her family? You ended “Distance” on such a high note that you’ve left it open for a follow up. Do let us know!
Yes, there will be more from the Richardsons! I have started on the sequel, which has the working title of Further.
Bio: Freelance writer and blogger Charli is a digital nomad currently travelling the world with her other half Ben. Whether backpacking through Central America or road tripping around Australia, they embrace each and every opportunity for adventure. Read more about their insatiable wanderlust on their blog Wanderlusters and follow their journey on Facebook, Instagram and Twitter. Today she shares with the League of Expat Writers (LEW) what life is like as a ‘temporary expat’ whilst she house sits her way around the world.
Lifestyle farming is not a term I thought I would ever run into on my travels around the world, yet here I am, spade in hand and ankle deep in alpaca poo.
Since waking up this morning I’ve fed the chickens and collected their daily offering of eggs, watered and weeded the vegetable gardens, extracted a few caterpillars from the lettuce, and collected the wheelbarrow from the shed with which to clear the alpaca fields of poop.
While this schedule is not one I’m used to it has become routine for me over the last few weeks. Since leaving my home in the UKa little over two years ago I’ve had to adapt to a number of lifestyles, I utilize house sitting assignments to travel the world. You could say I am a temporary expat of sorts.
I’ve looked after thirteen homes to date….from a mango plantation in Costa Ricato a four story town house in Vancouver.
My assignments have varied quite significantly, though as I mentioned, I ’m currently caring for a lifestyle farm in the volcanic heart of New Zealand. For those unaware, lifestyle farming refers to a property that farms meat, veggies or crops for personal consumption…a hobby rather than a viable business. The enterprise I’m caring for is relatively small in comparison to some, however it gives the owners great joy and I’m starting to realise why.
Set high in the hills of Papamoa, the property boasts a 270 degree ocean view, and if you ever get tired of looking at the shoreline ,the other 90 degrees overlooks vibrant green rolling hills and sunsets…the likes of which I’ve never seen before.
Sunset – Papamoa Hills
My responsibilities are to care for a troop of twelve alpacas, eight chickens, two vegetable gardens and an orchard. Relatively sedate in lifestyle farming terms but quite a challenge for a newbie farmer and one who historically neglects her pot plants. I would say I am more grey fingered than green.
I’ve spent a large proportion of the assignment on skype calls with my Grandmother, quizzing her about the art of horticulture and, much to her amusement, asking her to confirm whether something was a weed, shrub, vegetable or flower.
Once my daily chores are complete I’ve a choice of relaxing on the deck and soaking in the views or in the hot tub, or alternatively heading out to explore the local area.
The Bay of Plenty is rather aptly named, incorporating a large chunk of the north eastern edge of New Zealand’s North Island the region is bursting with life and has a wealth of landscapes to discover.
Not far from the house is the world famous town of Rotorua. Home to some of the country’s best examples of volcanic activity a visit is not for those with a sensitive nose.
White steam escapes from cracks in the tarmacked roads, yellow smears tarnish the ground and a primordial stench lingers in the air.There are a number of locations within the vicinity to see the various displays of geothermal power however I chose to visit the colourful geothermal pools of Wai-O-Tapu. Quite an educational experience the reserve is host to over twenty examples of Mother Nature’s phenomenal creativity. From sulphur caves and bright yellow sulphur crystals to boiling pools of inky black mud and vibrant coloured waters this was quite a sight to behold.After a day of exploring the surrounding countryside its back to the house to check on my furry house mates. It’s currently mating season for the alpacas and once a fortnight I must herd the breeding ladies into a pen, where they await their suitor. Unlike the dating rituals of us humans alpacas have very little in the way of flirting and fore-play. Where as a young gentleman may approach a lady in a bar and make witty conversation to impress upon her his desires, the alpacas choose to get straight to the point.
When the alpaca version of Mr Channing Tatum, George Clooney or Jude Law approaches a lady one of two things happens immediately.
His chosen lady will either lay down in submission allowing him to have his wicked way with her, or she will spit continuously in his face until the poor chap leaves her alone. Oh the hours one could have saved, the horrendous first dates that could have been avoided if only we two legged ladies followed such a no nonsense format.
Along with a new approach to dating my lifestyle farming assignment has taught me the value of cultivating my own produce.
For just over two months I picked most of my vegetables, fruit and salad fresh from the earth outside my door. The only food additives I was concerned with were the green wiggly kind that occasionally slipped through quality control and ended up on my plate. Having animals and a garden to care for forced me to get out of the house and into the fresh air, while I’ve always been very active being somewhat devoid of any horticultural talents I’ve never had any reason to ‘go out into the garden’. My taste of lifestyle farming has shown me the benefits of a more self-sustaining existence and it’s thank to house sitting that I’ve been able to have such an eye opening experience.
I know, I know…I’ve not even left yet and already I’m thinking about how I’m going to return!
Well, for a trip of this magnitude, a girl’s godda be organised. So I’ve already booked my One Way flight back – for a very reasonable price: 399 Euros inc. tax with Aeroflot via Moscow.
Please don’t feed my fear. Yes, the price is very good, and then you see who the airline is. But let’s not be in a hurry to judge them! I checked: they fly Airbuses now (I had a fear they’d fly a cargo carrier or something, in keeping with my cargo trip by ship out, why not the plane back?!)
I did wonder if I would stop overnight and see Moscow. Ha! Fat chance! The visa process (yes, even for a stopover) is a nightmare. Oh well Moscow, if you don’t want my tourism…
Now then: as you may all be aware, Hong Kong is an expensive city! So where am I going to stay? Well, Facebook kept putting up adverts for Airbnb, a site where people list their spare room in their house…heck…even their whole house! I have found a nice place for 9 nights for the grand total of 273 Euros! This is for a room in a place…I won’t feed you too much information yet as I want to experience it myself first too.
Next cometh the Yellow Fever inoculation (I’ll leave that for another blog post).
Emma Higgins has been writing and travelling on and off since 2009. Her blog, Gotta Keep Movin’ is full of stories and advice from her trips, which include Europe, India, Morocco, South America, the USA and Canada. Her main focuses are budget travel and volunteering, and she has been involved in sustainable farming in Argentina, animal shelters in Peru, and even tried her hand at making goats cheese in British Columbia. Follow her travels on Facebook, Twitterand Pinterest
Today she shares with the League of Expat Writers her discovery of Catalian life in Barcelona, Spain.
In January 2012 I left my home country of England and went to go and qualify and work as an EFL teacher in Barcelona, Spain. I’d been to the city a few times, something I almost never do as I’m always on the lookout for new places to go, but I felt like there was a force pulling me to the Barcelona. As a perpetual traveller I always trust my instincts on where I feel like I should be heading to next, and in hindsight moving to Barcelona couldn’t have come at a better time in my life.
TEFL class
Fast forward to March 2012 and I had passed my TEFL qualification, was living in a beautiful apartment in Barcelona’s Gràcia district with two other teachers, and loving every second of my new Barcelona life. It was the first time I had experienced living as an expat, and can safely say that it has changed the way I travel; I now favour longer trips and being able to live somewhere, rather than backpacking through a number of countries and not getting a deeper understanding of the way of life. Being around people who grew up in Barcelona and getting to talk with them endlessly during classes about what it means to be Catalan influenced my opinion of the city (and gave me plenty of teaching material, always a bonus!). I’m thankful for these discussions, as I now realise more than ever that for a lot of people, being from Barcelona isn’t the same as being Spanish.
Catalonia is the province in Spain that Barcelona is situated in, and the Catalan people have a very powerful and strong identity. At the moment there are protests going on all the time in Barcelona as people continue to fight for Catalan independence, something many are fiercely passionate about, which ended up rubbing off on me quite a lot. I hardly ever heard a person from Barcelonacall themselves Spanish; I even came across some Catalan people who would only speak Catalan or English, not Castellano, the Spanish dialect most of us are familiar with. You can feel this energy as you’re walking through the streets, and that’s one of the biggest things I love about Barcelona: the pure, unadulterated love for their city. It’s still fairly metropolitan in that there are many expats there, which the locals freely welcome, but these people truly know who and want they are – Catalans.
At some points while I was teaching, I had that thought in the back of my mind. Many of the people sat in front of me were learning English for better job prospects. Finding jobs where they can speak Catalan is pretty impossible, and now it’s becoming very difficult in the current economy to even find a job speaking Castellano. So here I am, teaching them their third language because we’re living in a world where English is going global and people can’t get a job in their own country speaking their own language. I think that fiery Catalan spirit was slowly creeping into my bones, and there were points where I would think ‘Who am I to tell you that you have to speak my language?’ My advanced class and I engaged in this discussion many times, and the majority said that learning English was a real goal for them and many wanted to be considered global ‘citizens of the world’ more than anything else. Well, that just made me love Catalans all the more.
View of Barcelona
Every time I think about Barcelona, I feel that vitality and zest for life pump through my veins. Not only because my time there was the best 6 months of my life so far: filled with beach parties, new friends, sunshine and cocktails, but also because it really taught me about what it is to have an identity, and live with passion. The street parties and events that were created to keep that Catalan spirit alive were some of the best moments during my time there, always stumbled upon by accident as we were walking through the streets. Those guys know how to party and make themselves heard!
I left Barcelona in August 2012 to go on an adventure through South America. Leaving the city was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do, feeling more heart-wrenching than leaving my native country in the first place. I know that my relationship with Barcelona still isn’t over, and the city will be waiting for me when I decide to return. I’m beyond grateful that I could experience life there, and more than anything I felt honoured as an English teacher and expat to be able to peek into what it is to be Catalan. My loyalties will forever firmly lie with Barcelona, and the Catalan people.
I’ve travelled a fair bit: solo around Australia when I was nineteen, Sri Lanka teaching English in 2004 to name but a few.
I’m going on a trip in June 2013 that leaves me juuuuuuuust that little bit fearful: I’ll be the only passenger on board a container ship, from Athens to Hong Kong…amongst a crew of roughly twenty four (all male). And now it’s all booked and paid for, I am starting to feel just ever so nervous, maybe even fearful – more than a little bit “What the hell Bex? What have you gone and done NOW!” You see, I pushed past my “What if’s?” and booked the thing…I can’t keep thinking “What if I get kidnapped by a pirate?”
What If’s make us – well – fearful!
Torre DeRoche inspired me to write this post – you’ll see more about her below. Ever since discovering her on Twitter, I’ve been following her progress as she takes the literary world by storm with her novel. Most importantly, I recognise a little bit of myself in her…we’re fearful girls together.
Thanks Torre!
This post is part of the My Fearful Adventure series, which is celebrating the launch of Torre DeRoche’s debut book Love with a Chance of Drowning, a true adventure story about one girl’s leap into the deep end of her fears. “Wow, what a book. Exciting. Dramatic. Honest. Torre DeRoche is an author to follow.” Australian Associated Press “… a story about conquering the fears that keep you from living your dreams.” Nomadicmatt.com “In her debut, DeRoche has penned such a beautiful, thrilling story you’ll have to remind yourself it’s not fiction.” Courier Mail Find out more…
Shouldn’t you be living a 9-5 life? It’s not as if you’re a teenager any more…
If I gave a pound for every time this insinuation has been levied in my direction, I’d be a poor woman. And it’s mostly from family members.
You’ll have seen from my About page on this site that I describe myself as an “unconventional British lass, living in an unconventional country…”.
Why is it, when someone decides not to work in a 9-5 career, not to get married and have kids in their 30’s, they’re ‘tut tutted’ at by society?
I posted the Header picture on my Facebook page and it prompted the following comment from a fan:
A very apt poem by Cavafy (translated from Greek by Edmund Keeley/Philip Sherrard) An Old Man
At the noisy end of the café, head bent over the table, an old man sits alone, a newspaper in front of him.And in the miserable banality of old age he thinks how little he enjoyed the years when he had strength, eloquence, and looks.
He knows he’s aged a lot: he sees it, feels it.
Yet it seems he was young just yesterday.
So brief an interval, so very brief.
And he thinks of Prudence, how it fooled him,
how he always believed—what madness—
that cheat who said: “Tomorrow. You have plenty of time.”
He remembers impulses bridled, the joy
he sacrificed. Every chance he lost
now mocks his senseless caution.
But so much thinking, so much remembering
makes the old man dizzy. He falls asleep,
his head resting on the café table.”
The picture and the comment sum it all up: I’m not leaving it until I’m too late. I’m not going to live the life people want me to. And neither should you.
Don’t leave things until they’re too late. Don’t feel guilty for being happy with a life you’re leading, even if it doesn’t fit others ideas of how to live life.I’m an EFL teacher. I love teaching kids, they teach me so much about myself. I love living in Greece; this country’s taught me so much about myself too.And as for being unconventional? HELL yeah…and proud of it.
What’s your experience? Agree/disagree? Share in the comments below.
Back in 2011, I wrote a post about the Greek island of Poros. It’s not far from the Greek mainland…by ‘slow’ ferry it takes about two hours (I said three in my original post, but either I was wrong or the ferry’s sped up!)
Returning I used the high speed, and this took about an hour and a half, and I didn’t feel sick once as the boat cut through the waves. But I still prefer the slow option: walk out on deck, twist my head, cat like, into the sun.
This time of year was the yachting festival, so Poros was quite busy (unfortunately). But go just behind the main harbour (literally 200 yards) and I was into traditional Greek island territory.
My favourite place to eat was Dimitris’s Taverna, park of the butcher’s shop, again located away from the main hustle bustle.
And of course, there were the sunsets…no more words needed. Hurry up and come to Greece! Remember, just a short ferry ride away will take you to a world away from the hubbub of the big city, a world where you’ll feel peaceful. Enjoy!
Megan is an Australian Journalist who has been travelling and blogging around the world for the last 7 years to inspire others to embark on their own worldwide adventure! Her husband Mike is an American travel photographer, and together they have made the world their home. Meg has recently launched “Mapping Megan”, an up and coming travel blog which aims to give you the best tips and advice on travelling, volunteering, living, working and holidaying abroad. She hasn’t been everywhere, but it’s on her list! You can follow her journey on Facebook, Twitter, YouTube, Pinterest and Instagram also. Today, she shares with the League of Expat Writers (LEW) her battles with Amercian visions of Australia (and visa versa).
An American vision of Australia
Upon recently relocating from Australia to America I have been overwhelmed with the amount of love Americans have for my country. America loves Australia. They love our native animals; from the cute and cuddly koalas, to the killer creatures like great white sharks and crocodiles; and all American women would leave their husbands in an instant for a chance with Hugh Jackman! However, when thinking about Australia, I’ve learnt pretty quickly that Americans generally try not to let facts get in the way! And you know what? I blame the likes of Steve Irwin and Paul Hogan (the Crocodile Hunter and Crocodile Dundee respectively).
Unfortunately these personalities have played on popular stereotypes and offered the world a distorted view of what life in Australia is actually like!
American’s seem to have a somewhat distorted vision of Australia which is hugely influenced by their pop culture. After meeting my husband originally in Africa we kept a long distance relationship going for two years. During that time he spent 12 months living with me in Australia. I think he was quite shocked when he arrived in the Australian Capital Territory (ACT) and found that my parents weren’t wearing safari costumes, and we weren’t living in a rundown shack in the middle of the outback! Having grown up with Steve Irwin as his absolute idol, Mike had genuinely expected he would have the chance to wrestle crocodiles and fry some good old shrimp on the barbie! Unfortunately he had to settle for a suburban/city life which was not dissimilar at all to his own in America.
Australian life is in fact very similar to life in America.
We have the same stores, the same music, the same television and the same food – although Australia has much smaller portions! We speak the same language (sometimes), worship the same celebrities and wear very similar clothing. Aside from learning how to drive on the opposite side of the road and being able to locate a store which sells fresh food, it really has been an easy adjustment. I will say though that everything in America is super size, and it’s an incredibly strange (and dangerous) concept to me that you can buy a handgun from a local department store – Australia has had incredibly strict gun control legislation since the 1990’s. The economy here is also something I am slow to wrap my head around – that being said I don’t think the US government fully understands their economy either so I’m not going to be too hard on myself! The cost of living is so much cheaper in America than in Australia. Wages here are substantially lower, however so is everything else.
Even though it’s all relative, I’m struggling with the concept that I’m now earning $8 an hour when I was on a minimum wage of $25 per hour in Australia a few months ago– that being said I’m more than happy to pay the monthly mortgage on our house here which is equivalent to what we were paying weekly while in the ACT.
Also the concept of tipping is very culturally different. It’s not done in Australia, yet a very integral part of the service industry in America. In fact, apparently it has been known in the US for the police to be called and customers locked in the restaurant by owners because they felt the service wasn’t satisfactory enough to receive a tip. In contrast employees across many companies in Australia can lose their jobs for accepting tips.This is, however, as far as I can go in terms of naming substantial cultural differences.
American’s are genuinely intrigued with Australia. I’ve had no issues making friends here – my Australian accent guarantees an instant popularity I would have killed for in high school!
While most tell me they dream of making it to Australia one day, the prospect seems as likely to them as winning the lottery jackpot. Apparently it’s much too far to actually go!
I was recently told that I “look Australian” and I still can’t figure this one out!
Although I’ll take it as a compliment because apparently all Australian women are hot, and all men are incredibly bad-ass. I read an American article recently which recommended that “if you are in a bar and you are about to throw a guy down, if he has an Australian accent and a missing tooth – wave a white flag, buy him a fosters and get the hell out of there!” Just to clarify while we’re on this point, Australians do not actually drink fosters. Still not sure where this myth came from considering it’s not even brewed in Australia…Scotland in fact!! My Family. Notice the distinct lack of safari outfits, crocodiles, blonde hair and outback setting!
According to one American woman I met I couldn’t possibly be from Australia because I’m not blonde.
My pet kangarooThe Sydney Opera House…as famously seen in “Finding Nemo”!!
I hated to have to break it to her, but not all Australians are blonde. Oh, and not all of us surf…I’m actually quite horrible at it! Nor do we ride Kangaroo’s to work and school each day (it’s actually illegal to own one as a pet), and nor do we all live in the outback. I guarantee you half of the country probably hasn’t even stepped foot in the outback. What I did find incredible was when one of my neighbours told me that she LOVED Sydney and started talking with enthusiasm about the well known landmarks. The fact that she knew about Sydney wasn’t the incredible part (in fact the majority of America wrongly thinks Sydney is the nations capital) – it was the disclosure at the end of the conversation that her knowledge was based on having watched ‘Finding Nemo’ repeatedly with her grandson. You really do think you’ve heard it all, but then someone completely blows that notion straight out of the water! I’ve decided that the situation is this: if you’ve heard it all you probably haven’t lived in America!
So I’ve given Americans a pretty hard time for their ignorance – that isn’t to say that Australians are any better. The most frequent question I am asked from friends and family back in Australia is “is it just like the movies”?! “Have you met any celebrities” is also a pretty popular question I hear from back home. Unfortunately the answer to both is no. I’m enjoying the same western lifestyle I’m used to in Australia here in America – however I do miss my Vegemite on toast each morning, and I dearly miss my pet Kangaroo!
This week we have another Greek feature on the League of Expat Writers (LEW). And I have to say, this piece is well worth reading: One woman’s Athenian experiences that helped her grow as an individual.
American Burd is working on her Ph.D and currently residing in the ‘States, but has had the good fortune of leaving, often for months at a time, to visit friends while traveling for the sake of research, conferences, and work. She’s recently booked a one-way flight to Italy so will be relocating in May. American Burd is the Love and Sex Editor at Girl Gone International and on her own blog Not A Scottish Lass writes about travelling, love (both lost and found), and living life within and well outside our comfort zones.
Keeping a journal
It was pure serendipity that whilst looking for my travel adapters for my upcoming trip, I found something I hadn’t thought of in years, my journal from when I lived in Greece. I moved to Greece in August 2005 to study abroad and, later, to teach English at a Multi-cultural school in Athens. There were a lot of firsts for me in Athens, and Greece as a whole. Athens is the first city I fell in love with, and I fell hard for Αθήνα. She was the first city I lived in, my first time travelling by myself, and my first time abroad on my own. I have a lot of memories from my time there and as meaningful as those times were, I had forgotten a lot. Reading the journal I kept almost eight years ago was a strange experience. What stood out most wasn’t the list of antiquities I visited, the classes I took and taught, it was the goals I made whilst there. I wrote a lot about the type of person I wanted to be, and Athens is what made me want to be a certain type of person. She made me want to be a better person, with goals that were larger than the life I had previously known, and wisdom that I knew could only be attained through more experiences, more travel, and a level of assertiveness and confidence, in myself, which I had not previously possessed.
Athens is where I truly became a woman.
Athens is where I became a woman
In many cultures, the transition from adolescent to adult occurs, symbolically, when an individual reaches sexual maturity or a specific age. In various religions, this involves a ceremony signifying the progression to adult hood; in my own culture (American) it’s marked by legal rights (to drive, buy cigarettes, consume alcohol). It’s common for the transition from adolescent to adult to occur within one’s society, but my most profound coming of age experiences occurred when I was living in Greece and, by my society’s standards, already an adult. coming–of–age n. : the attainment of prominence, respectability, recognition, or maturity (coming-of-age. 2013. In Merriam-Webster.com. Retrieved April 7, 2013)
Just a small town girl
Thinking back on it now, it seems absolutely mad. I’m from a village in the least populated state in the U.S. I had no idea what I was doing, I just knew I needed to do something different, and I did. I moved about 7,000 miles away from everything, by myself. I moved to a country where I was visibly (I’m pale and blonde), culturally, and linguistically different. Needless to say, the experience had a great impact on me. It’s amazing how the American Burd who wrote in that journal in 2005 is both vastly different and eerily similar to the one writing this post now. I lived in a little apartment located in Pangrati, a working class neighborhood in Athens. As the only American in my building, I learned a lot about Greeks just from observing them. I’m sure there were resources on how to adapt to living in a large city in a foreign country, but I obviously didn’t read them. I had travel guides and they were helpful for accomplishing certain tasks, but others… I figured those out on my own. It’s amazing how people adapt to situations they are thrown (and throw themselves) into.
I learned that, unlike Americans, Athenians do not go for runs throughout their city; they go to the gym and run on the treadmill. Eventually I conceded and got a gym membership, but that wasn’t until after three months of waking up every morning to run a carefully constructed route that began at the top of a miniature staircase next to the Panathenaic Stadium and then continuing to my favorite antiquities in Athens. First to the Temple of Olympian Zeus, then Hadrian’s Arch, the Acropolis, Athenian Agora, and last through the National Gardens on the way back to my apartment in Pangrati. This morning run was instigated so that I could soak up the antiquities of ancient Athens; I continued running this route because of what I learned about the culture of Modern Greece during the course of the run.
Every morning old men could be seen white washing the sidewalks in front of their stores, stray cats and dogs would laze about the ancient temples and fallen columns, Yia Yia’s were quickly scurrying about pulling folded grocery carts over the uneven and broken sidewalks towards the nearest Laiki to purchase fresh fish, olives, and vegetables, children were playing soccer in the city squares, screaming and yelling at each other while their mothers and Yia Yias watched on with adoration, and old men could be seen at the coffee shops drinking café Hellenico while relating stories using exaggerated hand gestures.
Exposure to a culture so different from my own was a shock, but one of my greatest learning experiences to date. Every day I left my apartment, I learned something new about Greek culture as well as something new about my own culture.
Laiki (Farmer’s) Market
Choosing Athens
“Why Athens? Why not London, Milan, Paris?” For me, it was a simple choice; I was a Classicist. Since a very young age I had aspired to be a young Indiana Jones. I studied Greek and Latin and had spent my summers in archaeological field training. I had a romanticized perception of Greece and a lust for adventure that needed to be satiated. I wanted to uncover objects that no one had laid eyes on in over 1,000 years, see the “wine dark sea” Homer had written of in the Iliad and Odyssey, perfect my Greek accent, and…fall in love. I know it all sounds ridiculous, but that was what I went looking for in Greece and I wasn’t disappointed. The Greek islands were covered with ancient potsherds; the sea was dark but not ruddy, depending on the location, it was a deep dark blue or green, more beautiful than I had ever imagined; my accent, it never stopped sounding like that of an elderly Greek man whenever I said “Para-kalo” (but it did improve); and love… well I did have a few flings with beautiful Greek men (chronicled oh so well within the pages of my journal), but more importantly, I fell in love with travel and all of the adventures that come with it.
I came back from Greece with some wicked reverse culture shock, but a renewed sense of self and a goal. I wanted to be the best version of myself possible. A phrase made ever so popular by the book and movie Eat, Pray, Love was kalos kagathos. I had the feminine form of this word tattooed on my ankle after my return from Greece, to remind myself of what I had learned in Greece. I was surprised and disappointed when the movie came out and everyone (including my own mother who had never understood it) thought they understood this phrase, one I held very dear to my heart. It is so much more than that which Elizabeth Gilbert describes in her book (says the ornery ex-Classicist):
it is more than self-love, and it is not merely a state of being. Καλή Kἀγαθή is a goal and aspiration to be the best possible version of one’s self, both in body and character.
My experiences in Greece made me want to be a better person, travel more, learn more, and conquer the world.
Since Greece, I’ve been to many more countries and continents, and grown as a person in each of these places; but Greece has and will always hold a special place in my heart because she taught me so much. I’d highly recommend Athens, as well as the rest of that beautiful country to anyone and everyone. The islands are enchanting, the Peloponnese unforgettably beautiful, and Athens… she’s just so alive.
As a converted Athenian, I want to thank “American Burd” for this piece as it resonates with me so much. You all know that I came to live in Athens in 2009 and haven’t left…well, “American Burd” states the reasons very well here. Thank you, so much, for sharing your personal journey.
Today, the Alternative Tours of Athens ‘took over’ Aischylou Street, a rather degraded street in the heart of Psiri, and added their own colourful touch.
Who are the Alternative Tours? Their Facebook page describes them as thus:
Alternative Tours of Athens (ATA) shows you the city, in easy to follow scheduled tours that focus on aspects like architecture, street art, nightlife and urban life. Come with us and the real side of this crazy place!
The objective of Alternative Tours of Athens (ATA) is to enhance the local community and promote culture and tourism through alternative landmarks, with an emphasis on modern city life. Through its action, it aims to contribute both to the development of relations between visitors (foreigners or Greeks) and the countryside, as well as interaction by promoting new talent, ideas and proposals.
The fields of action of ATA are mainly alternative thematic tours: architecture, nightlife, street art, photography, creative workshops, literature, social movements, cycling. The activity extends to the organization and production of software or printable guides of Athens, co-organizing cultural events and educational seminars.
The Alternative Tours of Athens aims at a fruitful cooperation between tourist affiliates, scientists, cultural agencies, organizations, local businesses, training centers, authors, artists and people that shape the active stage of the city now.
Come see the real life of Athens!
It was a great atmosphere with a great bunch of people whose objective is about re-building, not destructing. See for yourself:
Art in progressAlternative Tours of Athens take over a street in Athens Greece and transform it with their own street art – and make the area presentable again.
And as I wandered home, look what I stumbled upon, tucked away down a side street in the Psiri neighbourhood of central Athens?
A treasure trove!
A treasure trove awaited me! I just had to step inside to see what goodies were on offer, and I wasn’t disappointed – come and see with me:
Today’s LEW (League of Expat Writers) features British expat Dave Bull who has been living and working in Spain since 2000. He’s integrated into the Spanish life; learning the language and the culture.
Now a full-time writer, he lives with his son, Mitch and two dogs on the Costa Blanca penning his experiences and observations on living life as an expat in Spain and on his travels through Europe.
Always from his own ‘different’ perspective, he publishes one of the most successful magazines on the Costa Blanca and has been the Editor of two regional expat newspapers.
Dave has a unique way of writing.
Today, Dave shares with us his version of Spanish life, in his own unique way.
Another cigarette exits my packet. Then my lighter disappears.
I am in Juande cafeteria in the Glorieta Square in Santa Pola. Juan, the owner and ‘when I feel like it’ waiter wanders off with a puff of smoke to chat with another customer at another table in this typically Spanish hostelry – and with my lighter.
I’m here because it’s my escape. My bolthole. A place to sit and write with a large coffee amongst good people – and where else can you sit all day and have a couple of coffees to interrupt the chat without getting a piercing look from the owner. OK…it will cost me a few ciggies during the day too (and probably a lighter) but it’s a small price to pay when you’re enveloped by what is best in Spain– the traditional and the cultural. Outside of the front door, the recently extended Glorieta Square leads to the impressive five hundred year old castle – and Juan’s twin brother stands idly chatting with another local – with my lighter…
The noise inside is incredible as mostly housewives joust for their particular piece of knowledge to be heard before and above all others. The rest of us raise our voices to be heard over the din, therefore increasing the overall volume that bit more. You’d think it’d be impossible to get any work done at all but for some reason I can get more done in a couple of hours (read six…) in there than I can all day at home.
Juan and his wife Loles have run the café for the past twenty-five years having converted it from a general store in 1983. Juan’s parents had opened the General Store in 1930 and ran it for the next 53 years, supplying the town with everything from light bulbs to Goldfish, in fact the front of the building appeared in the major Spanish feature film ‘The man with the white umbrella’ in 1959.
Nowadays, Juan and Loles enjoy the Brits as customers too, and, says Loles;
the British always have two cups of coffee with their breakfast which is very rare with the Spanish and of course they drink a lot more beer than the locals but they are always polite and friendly and we always ask them to practise their Spanish with us.
Next time you are in Santa Pola – call in (offer Juan a ciggie and you will be a friend for life) and taste a bit of Spanish life and culture over a wonderfully, steaming, enormous Café con Leche
If you like Dave’s style of writing, he has published the following:
“It just is…” by Dave Bull. An expat finding his way around Spain & Spanish culture.
“A Load of Bull.” A collection of one-liners, comments and funnies – many about Spain and the expat life.
“Go Travel to: Paris is a Paris guide book” – written in Dave’s unique style.
No, that’s not a spelling mistake. Every month, small stall holders and healthy food outlets get together over a weekend to display and sell their wares. Located somewhere different every month, this month it was held in Gazi.
Old gas works amongst the neighbourhood
Gazi is the old gas district of Athens. Back in the 1850’s, before electricity – the gas works provided street lights and energy. In 1999, the area was regenerated and is now boasts funky coffee shops, a variety of eateries and Gazarte, the cultural centre of Gazi.
Today I went along to The Meet Market. As you can see, the wares on sale from the independent stall holders were varied and colourful. Food is also available.
No – they’re bath salts, not spices! And from personal experience, the green (mint) one works a treat.
Take a look at what you can experience at the Meet Market
Indiana native Lauren Fitzpatrick never got a proper job. Instead, she got working holiday visas for Ireland, England, Australia, New Zealand, and Korea. She has held over 30 jobs, including carny, English teacher and movie extra. Lauren blogs about travel and working abroad at Lateral Movements, and you can follow her on facebook or twitter @LateralMovement Today she shares her story with Leaving Cairo. In 2003, I graduated from Indiana University with a degree in Communication & Culture, and no idea how to use it.
So I went to Ireland.
Galway
In Ireland, there was no pressure to get a ‘real’ job, because I was automatically doing something worthwhile – I was travelling. I worked as a coffee shop waitress in Galway for three months and basically extended my university lifestyle, spending most of my time not worrying about my future and getting to know the local pubs. I reasoned that this was okay, because, like my conventionally responsible friends, I too had a five-year plan: 2003 – 2004: Working holiday in Ireland and Britain 2004 – 2005: Working holiday in Australia 2005 – 2006: Working holiday in New Zealand Shoot: technically it was a three-year plan, but that was better than no plan at all. I figured that by the time I got to the end of the third year, something spectacular would have happened, uniting me with my destiny.
Which is what happened. Sort of.
By the end of my wildly successful three-year plan, I had added 18 new jobs to my resume, including: coffee shop waitress, gym membership sales, personal assistant, bar waitress, fruit picker, hostel cleaner, bungee trampoline operator, carny, hostel receptionist, office assistant, reporter, subject recruiter, drug trial recruiter, and support officer. My resume was nearly as cluttered as my passport, and I was definitely no closer to a career. While that hadn’t bothered me initially, I was starting to stress. I was 25. My friends were moving forward, and I was all over the shop, taking on weird jobs like it was – well, my job. I had accrued irresponsible credit card debt, plus had no real plan and nothing to show but intangible travel experiences. To others, I appeared flighty, and I couldn’t stand it.
That summer, I took a job teaching reading classes in Florida. The funny thing is that I didn’t really enjoy the work, but I enjoyed saying that I was a teacher. I was so tired of hearing the question, “What do you do?” and not having an answer. Now, I could tell people I was a teacher.
Teaching in Korea
Except that I wasn’t a teacher. Not really. I worked for a private company that provided all materials and lesson plans; all I had to do was be mildly charismatic and remember a bunch of names. My focus was on the end of the summer, when my new, responsible life was scheduled to start: I was going to be a Master’s student in travel writing at Kingston University in London.And suddenly, that answered everyone’s questions. “Oh,” they said, “you’re going to be a travel writer, like for Lonely Planet and stuff!” Just like that, because my travelling suddenly had a semi-sensible potential job title attached to it, my lifestyle was socially acceptable.
Spoiler alert: I didn’t become a travel writer. Not officially.
I did, however, get a dream internship with Busabout Europe. They sent me around Europe for six weeks. I blogged about it.
And I fell in love.
Jared and I met in Bruges, moved in together in London, and moved to Australia 8 months later. I added two more jobs to my resume: shop assistant and recruiter. After our year in Australia was up, we took off for South Korea, where we managed to teach English, travel up a storm, and save money – all over a period of two years.
Newly engaged
I became debt-free. I kept blogging. I started writing.
I realised that life didn’t have to follow an existing pattern:
it can be anything you want it to be. We spent four months backpacking through South America, three months visiting family and friends in the US, and are now back in Australia, applying for a de facto visa. Through a blogging connection, I work as a contractor for a social media strategist and write for on line travel publications. I’m also working on a memoir, getting settled in Australia, planning a wedding, and thinking about where we’ll travel next.These days, if you ask me what I “do,” I’ll tell you that I’m a freelancer. In a way, it’s what I’ve been doing all along.
Lauren is proof that it is OK to not live a conventional nine-to-five lifestyle: a husband, house with white picket fence. labrador dog and 2.4 kids. OK, these may come eventually – but not in any expected order, if at all!
Thanks for sharing your story Lauren. If you like what you’ve read here – be sure to follow Lauren on her blog.
