Snapshots.

I take far too many photos :)

Praha/Prag/Praga.

Back from the CZ now and I mean to write about it as soon as possible. I planned to detail a little of the day-to-day while I was there - the Czech computers being a lot more available/negotiable that the Turkish ones - but when it came down to it I was just too tired in the evenings. I love the culture, I do, but wow does it wear you out. Still, all in all it was a lovely holiday. I really need to stop worrying and complaining in the run-up, as I've never had a bad holiday yet. I suppose it's just a way of lowering my expectations and thus having a better time when I get there.

My very potted week log, enjoy:

As predicted we were indeed kept busy, but a couple of day trips helped to break up the week and as a result my feet aren't hurting quite as much as expected. We started with a day of general sightseeing and wandering. It is such a beautiful city that you could spend several days walking about and simply taking in the lovely architecture, etc. But we didn't, just the one. In the evening we found ourselves watching a folklore festival, in which the cow-herding Russian dancers got over-exciting with their whipping, knocked a microphone off the stage and slapped one of the band members in the face. We visited the castle and the cathedral on the second day and I believe I took somewhere over a thousand photos of the colourful stained glass windows. For tea there was TGI Fridays, which made me happy. On Thursday we went on a day trip to nearby Kutná Hora to see the Ossuary (bone church). I saw one on Long Way Round (the Ewan McGregor/motorcycle/travel around the world television programme) and I was intrigued. For tea there was Hard Rock Cafe, which made Josh happy. The next day we returned to the castle so that my dad could visit an art gallery and we could go to the toy museum. Afterwards we went to the Franz Kafka museum, which was interesting, if a little dark/cryptic. On Saturday we went to Terezin, a former Jewish ghetto and prison camp. We were taken on a guided tour around the old prison and there was a commemorative museum inside one of the old schools. It was a very interesting visit, but not an especially joyful one. In the afternoon we drove back to Prague, where we visited the Communism museum. Also interesting and a little more up-beat. On Sunday we did some final morning sort of things, like buying pretty gingerbread hearts and last-minute postcards, then we went to several Jewish synagogues and the Old Jewish Cemetery. We flew back by means of Frankfurt, which was all very well and good, except for the fact that we almost missed our connecting flight and our suitcases decided they'd rather stay in Germany. So I am home, happy but also somewhat clothesless. Oh, deary me.

AND BREATHE.

Prague.

This afternoon I am jetting off to the Czech Republic via. Zurich airport for a week of castles, cathedrals and other forms of non-stop culture. The guidebooks are a lot more promising on the subject of Prague, stating, "Come for the awe-inspiring architectural over-achievement, and stay for the energy of this exciting city rushing confidently into the 21st century", yet I have a feeling that I am going to be made to eat my pre-Turkey apprehensions by the end of the week, thanks to some sort of severe sightseeing overdose. And I can safely predict that my feet will be well and truly deadened by the time we arrive home on Sunday. Ah well, I'm excited nonetheless. At the top of my things-to-do-in-Prague priority list, are a visit to the Franz Kafka museum and our usual pilgrimage to the Hard Rock Cafe. And I really want to find one of these pesky near-extinct black-and-white photo booths. My guidebook also states that Kafka wrote, "Prague doesn't let go, this mother has claws." So, should be a good trip.

Pick and Mix.

Congratulations on wedding number two Hannah and Graham. And thank you very much for a lovely day :)

I was a Panda.

This is a poem for playscheme
For ten days of summertime fun.
For many days inside with dodgeball

And a few days outside in the sun.

For games of splat and wink murder

And keymaster, both one and two

Because here no matter the weather

There's always plenty to do.

For hours spent in the craft room

Making big books and animal masks

And always sticking to jungle -

Well, we say so when Penny asks!

This is a poem for fishies

And other creatures from the sea,

For duck, duck goose played for hours at a time

- So long as you can't catch me.

But sadly these five weeks are over

And playscheme has come to an end.

But we leave with the longest of paper chains,

We leave with many new friends.

This is a poem for playscheme,

We hope you've enjoyed your time here,

And we'll see you later for a party

And hopefully we'll see you next year.

City FM.

Beach
Park
Pub
Pier

"Quick mention for my friends Gareth and Jessica and for all those times we spent in that car. Love from Big Bear", wrote my good friend Sam, as we sat in the little green car by the edge of the sea. The others were disparaging, but we were silently optimistic. Then, four songs, one emotional gay-boyfriend letter and a drive to Tescos later, the late night, tranquil voice man on 96.7 read the Big Bear's heartfelt fiction back to us. Cue screaming/jumping up and running from the car. Which begs the question, funniest moment of the summer thus far?

Banksy+.

On Friday evening we took full advantage of the sunny weather and birthday BBQ'd at Catrin's house. Details are sketchy, but I do recall the presence of a giant snakes & ladders set, several poor attempts at initiating a drinking game or two, arguments concerning Ron Weasley vs. Draco Malfoy and the university whereabouts of Emma Watson, big hair-dos and silly faces and following Gaz and Emma around with a selection of cameras, hoping to catch a single fake kiss in the making. Later in the evening there was intense Doctor Who/Torchwood discussion (plan: Gaz and I will dress up as Jack Harkness and Ianto Jones and run around Cardiff ♥) and a somewhat surreal walk back to my house. This involved, among other things, Boston crabs, unsuccessful piggy-back rides, climbing up the rugby Hs, inflatable bollards and James loudly proclaiming, 'If I were a Unicorn--'.

Saturday morning came about far too quickly for my liking, and it was with much lethargy that I set off for Oxford via. Birmingham. I spent the morning in Stratford-upon-Avon, walking Cleo through the streets, which were busy with Japanese tourists, searching for Shakespeare's birth-place. We bought some fudge and sat by the canal in the sunshine, until Cleo started whining and drinking the puddle water. In the afternoon my mum and I went for a sunny drive and visited some family friends in Warwick aaand in the evening we went back to Oxford and watched Boy in the Striped Pyjamas with pizza and chocolate eclairs. It was a nice family sort of day.

On Sunday my dad and Josh and I got up early(ish) and drove to Bristol to see the Banksy exhibition. We read on the museum website that the queues were up to two hours long and that last admission was at half four, so arriving at one o'clock we thought we had given ourselves plenty of time. Oh, but we were greatly mistaken. As a result we spent three hours at the front of a very long reserve line, swapping stories and food with a young couple from Southampton, and watching as several hundred people made their way into the museum before us. Eventually however we made it inside, with a mere fifty-five minutes to spare. There were some pretty amazing paintings/sculptures, both in the exhibition proper and dotted throughout the permanent collection; my favourites among them including "I don't think we're on canvas anymore", a sleeping and graffitied Thomas the Tank Engine and the woman with the Groucho Marx glasses, would you believe it? In the gift shop I bought a Monkey Parliament poster, just because and on the way out of Bristol we spotted a real live street Banksy. Which just about made our day.

Sylvester McMonkey McBean.

"Now, the Star-Belly Sneetches had bellies with stars.
The Plain-Belly Sneetches had none upon thars.
Those stars weren’t so big. They were really so small.
You might think such a thing wouldn’t matter at all."

♥

FANTASTIC.

Looks mighty good, despite the generic American voice-over man. I do love a bit of Roald Dahl :)

Currently, I am sunburnt in the strangest of places and attempting to rescue my end-of-summer plans with the help of cheap flights to Amsterdam and/or preposterous lies about bird watching. A plague on the cottage companies of North Wales.

Stargazing.

+ pyjamas, pirates and car-parks.

Q: How much does a polar bear weigh?
A: Enough to break the ice.
(It took me a while.)

+/-

+ Fold-out beds and friends
+ Lovely large house opposite a park
+ Homemaking plans, sunflowers and tea-pots
+ Mango and passion fruit frappucinos
+ Crossword puzzles
+ Sublime stitching stationery
+ Audrey Tautou films
+ Krispy Kremes doughnuts

- Torrential rain
- Humid tube rides
- Sleazy estate agents
- Room competition
- Spilling said mango & passion fruit frappucino all over my new shoes
- Loud people in the cinema and on the train

All in all, the good outweighs the bad. Can't say I'm entirely ready to go back for good yet though. Oh LDN times.

London Zeit.

In a couple of hours I will be heading back to the big SE for a long-awaited day of house viewing, contract confirmation and gross monetary deduction. By the time I arrive home on Saturday evening I expect to be a thousand pounds poorer. And should all go according to plan, a fully-fledged house owner to boot. Scary stuff. In preparation for this ordeal I must spend the next hour or so muddling my way through the largest pile of forms known to man. With a minimal knowledge of the house in question/the application process and without a single black Biro in sight. Should be fun.

On the up side, I hear the weather is lovely jubbly in London town. And Coco before Chanel is on in the cinemas and Topshop Oxford Circus is brimming with summery weddingy dresses. Wish me luck.

In the Jungle.

Two years ago today I came home from Indonesia feeling tired, sun burnt and hungry for running water and home cooking. But oh so happy too. We went to the island of Sumatra for fourteen days of orangutans, rain forest, white water rafting, jeep rides, elephants, card games, rambutan, school visits, sandy cities and desert islands. In Bukit Lawang we stayed in an Eco Lodge and ventured into the jungle each day to watch for signs of wildlife and learn about the local conservation efforts. In Tangkahan we rode elephants across a river and through the undergrowth. In the city of Padang we visited a local school, where we provided new books and sang endless rounds of the Hokey Cokey and Old McDonald has a Farm. My friend Will, who has dark hair and wears glasses was lovingly referred to as Harry Potter. On Sikuai Island we planted coral and read by the sea. All in all it was rather lovely.

Today, in a state of reminisce I have been flicking my way through several hefty albums of photographs, the best/most interesting of which I thought I would share with you here and now. Sumatra oh-seven ♥

♥