I had to go back to camp. Peachy needed to be released again.
It did not disappoint.
Being thrown back into the AmVil experience again was amazing. Although I shall point out that as a British girl, there were times when I struggled (what even is Thanksgiving anyway? Geez). But my lack of American culture certainly did not detract from any of the fun that was had.
Although I probably shouldn't ever teach baseball ever again.
Besides the point.
I am very lucky to have met such an amazing group of people, who were always enthusiastic and willing to give as much as they could. Even when we were ill or suffering in other ways, there was always great energy throughout the team and I appreciate being able to work with such fantastic humans. We also had a great director who knew how to get the most out of all of us, it must be said...
I'm unsure how it came to be, but camp was even crazier this time than before...
Perhaps it was the fact that my sister ended up in Lyon (whilst I just happened to be there too) and told me she had just got engaged (congratulations, by the way)
Or the fact we would blast out a "Grind On Me" session at any opportunity which would get only a little bit weird after you've ended up humping every item in your vicinity. And that really does mean every single item.
Maybe even being a "Dirt Goblin" when there was absolutely no need to be after the skit has ended. But really... such a character demands your every second to live and breathe as the role, no?
Or maybe it was enjoying season 6 of Ru Paul's Drag Race with all of you. I feel I could not have enjoyed such a series without you guys being present. So thank you. Get gaggy.
Or perhaps the fact I was in my first-ever car crash. But y'know. Only a small one involving multiple vehicles. No biggy.
Whiplash is a bitch. Other than that, though.
I am even more in love with France and everything it has to offer after my latest visit. I have enjoyed every single hot minute of it. So thank you one and all. Words cannot describe the experience if I'm honest. Thank you to everyone for putting up with me. You all really do deserve all that is good in this world.
Stay Peachy, my lovelies.
Monday, 9 October 2017
Thursday, 7 September 2017
Sicily
Sicily was indeed beautiful. It provided many places for taking glorious pictures and allowed us ample opportunity to luxuriate in plenty of endless beaches, with stunning crystal-clear waters. Particularly that of Isola Bella in Taormina. Would recommend, 10/10.
We stayed in an area where actual Italians live. Crazy, no? So, there was a lack of the usual tourist lark. Which was splendid, up until the point where we were aware that we speak very little Italian. A tad foolish of us. But we muddled by in the only way a British couple could. With few words and loud voices. (We did try. Yet it was very clear that we should have perhaps rehearsed some more stock phrases before our arrival. Although, trying to communicate you want a salad with no cheese and ending up with a pizza with no cheese was certainly interesting, and you live and learn from your mistakes, it must be said).
There was much fun on our holiday, including a trip up Mt. Etna. The landscape resembles that of another planet or perhaps a post-apocalyptic scene. It was kinda breathtaking. Both literally and figuratively. I'm really not in shape to be climbing up mountains willy-nilly. Even if I did get the cable car up partway. I'm very glad I did it, though (always appreciate Ethan for making me do these things).
There was also a visit to Palermo. The city (and capital of Sicily) is certainly a mixture, one moment we were travelling along some of the scariest streets possible, the next we were inside the Church of San Cataldo watching a baptism take place. The history and architecture of the place was truly incredible. It's a city steeped in history and beauty and there was also a very good dog we met. What else need there be?
Thus, it was mostly a relaxing and beautiful time. Up until the very last day, on our return to Catania airport.
That's when things got a tad... stressful.
To say the least.
We had a rental car for the duration of our trip, a cute lil Citroen C1 that got us to the many places we traversed over the course of the week. It was fun and it did its job for us.
Apparently until we needed it to.
Picture this. Italian motorway, sweltering heat, lots of roadworks. We're travelling along. Everything is hunky-dory.
Until we realise that we need petrol. That's fine. We had already planned on getting as much as we could just before we got to the rental place. And we had quite a few kilometres of range left. It'll be fine. Right?
Ha. It wasn't.
Just a few kilometres in and we realise we're in a spot of bother.
No worries. We'll just pull over and call the emergency number. It's okay.
Ring bloody ring. Doesn't fucking work.
Okay. New plan.
I try waving down vehicles. Any vehicle. Given the fact we're on a motorway. Next to a cliff. In between two tunnels. The chances are slim. Nobody is even hinting at slowing down.
Sweet.
BUT WAIT.
On the other side of the motorway, a roadside recovery vehicle turns up.
And passes.
Okay. Well. He saw me. So. Maybe he'll turn back, right?
Meanwhile, Ethan is on the phone. The woman hangs up. Apparently we need to get to a quieter location. IF WE COULD MOVE FROM THE MOTORWAY WE WOULD.
But we can't.
Slight panic. (Ha) We only have an hour and a half to get to the airport. We're 46 minutes away already.
In the midst of our sadness, recovery man appears. He doesn't speak a word of English, and of course, our Italian is lacking. We communicate via Google translate. He speaks to said woman who previously put the phone down on us. He takes us to a petrol station. We thank him and leave him to bestow blessed recoveries on others. What a fucking legend.
We had a rental car for the duration of our trip, a cute lil Citroen C1 that got us to the many places we traversed over the course of the week. It was fun and it did its job for us.
Apparently until we needed it to.
Picture this. Italian motorway, sweltering heat, lots of roadworks. We're travelling along. Everything is hunky-dory.
Until we realise that we need petrol. That's fine. We had already planned on getting as much as we could just before we got to the rental place. And we had quite a few kilometres of range left. It'll be fine. Right?
Ha. It wasn't.
Just a few kilometres in and we realise we're in a spot of bother.
No worries. We'll just pull over and call the emergency number. It's okay.
Ring bloody ring. Doesn't fucking work.
Okay. New plan.
I try waving down vehicles. Any vehicle. Given the fact we're on a motorway. Next to a cliff. In between two tunnels. The chances are slim. Nobody is even hinting at slowing down.
Sweet.
BUT WAIT.
On the other side of the motorway, a roadside recovery vehicle turns up.
And passes.
Okay. Well. He saw me. So. Maybe he'll turn back, right?
Meanwhile, Ethan is on the phone. The woman hangs up. Apparently we need to get to a quieter location. IF WE COULD MOVE FROM THE MOTORWAY WE WOULD.
But we can't.
Slight panic. (Ha) We only have an hour and a half to get to the airport. We're 46 minutes away already.
In the midst of our sadness, recovery man appears. He doesn't speak a word of English, and of course, our Italian is lacking. We communicate via Google translate. He speaks to said woman who previously put the phone down on us. He takes us to a petrol station. We thank him and leave him to bestow blessed recoveries on others. What a fucking legend.
WE'RE ON OUR WAY.
But then.
A bush fire. A build-up of traffic...
No worries. Only about 36 minutes to go. We still have to check in and go through security. No worries. AT ALL.
As we get to the airport, I sprint to the check-in desk with all our baggage in tow, whilst Ethan deals with the car rental. I sort of push in the line. I am instantly met with angry people. I don't blame them. But I'm stressing. And I really need to get to the gate.
We make it to the gate with a minute to spare.
We get on the plane.
There were even people later than us.
All was well.
Never have I been happier to be on an easyjet flight than that moment.
And, in all honestly, despite the whole trauma of the nearly missing our flight experience, we had a beautiful time. So thank you, Sicily, you crazy, wonderful place.
Friday, 11 August 2017
Life in Fiction (Part 12)
Read part 11 here, or from the beginning, here.
She had her change already counted out in her pocket. She could just get on the bus. She didn't need to wait for an answer.
But she did.
"Oscar." Oscar, formerly tall boy, replied.
"That doesn't really answer my question...". She sighed. Kath watched as the bus passed her by. A thirty-eight minute walk was ahead of her then. Unless she wanted to wait for the next one. She side-eyed Oscar.
"I know." He smiled at her. "Missed your bus, then?"
"I best get walking". Kath plopped her earphones in her ears and made to turn. She prayed that her battery would last, otherwise it truly would be a long walk back.
"Let me accompany you to wherever it is you may be going, then". Oscar looked down at her, smiling. He really was quite tall. She hoped puberty hadn't finished for him, otherwise he'd end up looking very vertical... but little else. Not that she could really complain, but he really did look like he could be used as a ladder. Had he the rungs. And everything else that goes into making a functional ladder. Y'know.
She went to play something decent when she realised nothing had been playing. The battery was indeed dead.
Fuck it, she thought.
"Okay, ladder-boy, let's get this show on the road" Kath looked up at him, and started to walk in the direction of her home. If she couldn't have music, she would entrust Oscar to keep her entertained.
"So... would you rather have feathers or scales?" Kath asked him.
Read Part 13 here.
She had her change already counted out in her pocket. She could just get on the bus. She didn't need to wait for an answer.
But she did.
"Oscar." Oscar, formerly tall boy, replied.
"That doesn't really answer my question...". She sighed. Kath watched as the bus passed her by. A thirty-eight minute walk was ahead of her then. Unless she wanted to wait for the next one. She side-eyed Oscar.
"I know." He smiled at her. "Missed your bus, then?"
"I best get walking". Kath plopped her earphones in her ears and made to turn. She prayed that her battery would last, otherwise it truly would be a long walk back.
"Let me accompany you to wherever it is you may be going, then". Oscar looked down at her, smiling. He really was quite tall. She hoped puberty hadn't finished for him, otherwise he'd end up looking very vertical... but little else. Not that she could really complain, but he really did look like he could be used as a ladder. Had he the rungs. And everything else that goes into making a functional ladder. Y'know.
She went to play something decent when she realised nothing had been playing. The battery was indeed dead.
Fuck it, she thought.
"Okay, ladder-boy, let's get this show on the road" Kath looked up at him, and started to walk in the direction of her home. If she couldn't have music, she would entrust Oscar to keep her entertained.
"So... would you rather have feathers or scales?" Kath asked him.
Read Part 13 here.
Thursday, 13 July 2017
Life in Fiction (Part 11)
Catch up with part 10 here, or from the beginning here.
The pigeon sat and waited. The seagull would maybe come along tomorrow morning. There was little else to do at this current moment in time, other than maybe find a snack, so he flew off to do just that. There would be time for a bit of seagull fun another day.
Kath was getting extremely bored of the situation now. Mostly because listening to tall boy meant she was kept from her music. Her earphones lay round her neck playing music, unaware of her disgruntled attitude. They were having fun, they much preferred being out in the open. Being in Kath's ears could get a little claustrophobic at times.
"I've always liked bus stops myself... " mused tall boy.
"That's nice" replied Kath, checking the time once again and praying the bus would appear soon. She noticed even the pigeon had disappeared. She really didn't appreciate being left alone in tall boys presence. She was sad the pigeon had left, most of all.
"The way they just, y'know... give us a place to just... be. They don't require anything of us. Like I'm not a burden standing here. Which is an unusual occurrence."
"I'm surprised" Kath said, unsurprised. She made to return her long-lost earbuds back to their home.
"You know. I do like collecting rocks. And I also have a proclivity to have my cereal at odd times of day" He looked her straight in the eyes.
"Shit." Kath whispered, and she stared back at tall boy. Did she recognise him? She couldn't really tell. He was sort of nondescript. And anyway, she was pretty awful with faces.
"Who are you exactly...?" Kath began.
And that's when the bus came.
Read part 12 here
The pigeon sat and waited. The seagull would maybe come along tomorrow morning. There was little else to do at this current moment in time, other than maybe find a snack, so he flew off to do just that. There would be time for a bit of seagull fun another day.
Kath was getting extremely bored of the situation now. Mostly because listening to tall boy meant she was kept from her music. Her earphones lay round her neck playing music, unaware of her disgruntled attitude. They were having fun, they much preferred being out in the open. Being in Kath's ears could get a little claustrophobic at times.
"I've always liked bus stops myself... " mused tall boy.
"That's nice" replied Kath, checking the time once again and praying the bus would appear soon. She noticed even the pigeon had disappeared. She really didn't appreciate being left alone in tall boys presence. She was sad the pigeon had left, most of all.
"The way they just, y'know... give us a place to just... be. They don't require anything of us. Like I'm not a burden standing here. Which is an unusual occurrence."
"I'm surprised" Kath said, unsurprised. She made to return her long-lost earbuds back to their home.
"You know. I do like collecting rocks. And I also have a proclivity to have my cereal at odd times of day" He looked her straight in the eyes.
"Shit." Kath whispered, and she stared back at tall boy. Did she recognise him? She couldn't really tell. He was sort of nondescript. And anyway, she was pretty awful with faces.
"Who are you exactly...?" Kath began.
And that's when the bus came.
Read part 12 here
Tuesday, 27 June 2017
Peachy Keen: My Camp Experience
I spent an absolutely amazing two months out in France, as part of the American Village (or for those cool cats out there, AmVil) team. Although let it be known, however, that I was firmly part of British Village for the majority of my camp experience. Not quite sure I was quite cut out for the full American treatment, it must be said.
But yes, it was truly incredible. I had a lot of fun. I fell in love with France and where I worked. Peachy, my new alias, made lots of friends and had a very good time out in France.
It wasn't just the job... it was the lifestyle. Who knew I could make money from having my teeth brushed with nutella and other questionable toothbrush replacements? Or for pretending to be the Eiffel tower? Fooling children with extra lessons when in fact they were about to experience a zombie apocalypse? Or for honing my acting skills and reproducing fire on stage with uncanny ability? (My legacy, well and truly, I'd say).
Well, I did. And it was amazing. I was lucky enough to teach some very interesting groups throughout my time. Let me tell you, there were some brilliant children... and perhaps less than tolerable children, but all topped with the best of camp names. Trenchfoot. Tesco. Gluten Free. Haggis. Hairy Toes. Split Ends. Sausage Roll. Tube Strike. And those were just some of my favourites.
I really loved camp and all that it entailed. Whether that meant no WiFi, crowded chalets, vineyard visits that went downhill, having my accent the subject of ridicule, the many, many flies...
But, in spite of these minor issues, the experience was overall surpassed by the (for the most part) good company. I met a whole bunch of great people, and even though we crossed paths only briefly, I hope to carry those friendships with me forever, even in the smallest of ways.
And I'm sure Peachy will make her return to camp one day.
I am fire!
P.S. scales or feathers...
But yes, it was truly incredible. I had a lot of fun. I fell in love with France and where I worked. Peachy, my new alias, made lots of friends and had a very good time out in France.
It wasn't just the job... it was the lifestyle. Who knew I could make money from having my teeth brushed with nutella and other questionable toothbrush replacements? Or for pretending to be the Eiffel tower? Fooling children with extra lessons when in fact they were about to experience a zombie apocalypse? Or for honing my acting skills and reproducing fire on stage with uncanny ability? (My legacy, well and truly, I'd say).
Well, I did. And it was amazing. I was lucky enough to teach some very interesting groups throughout my time. Let me tell you, there were some brilliant children... and perhaps less than tolerable children, but all topped with the best of camp names. Trenchfoot. Tesco. Gluten Free. Haggis. Hairy Toes. Split Ends. Sausage Roll. Tube Strike. And those were just some of my favourites.
I really loved camp and all that it entailed. Whether that meant no WiFi, crowded chalets, vineyard visits that went downhill, having my accent the subject of ridicule, the many, many flies...
But, in spite of these minor issues, the experience was overall surpassed by the (for the most part) good company. I met a whole bunch of great people, and even though we crossed paths only briefly, I hope to carry those friendships with me forever, even in the smallest of ways.
And I'm sure Peachy will make her return to camp one day.
I am fire!
P.S. scales or feathers...
Friday, 19 May 2017
Life in Fiction (Part 10)
Read Part 9 here, or from the beginning, here.
"I don't, sorry," Kath replied, she didn't feel the need to engage any further, but the boy took a step closer to her.
"Disgusting habit. I know. But at least I actually smoke them. No redundant metaphors here."
"Well... I guess that's... something," Kath replied. She didn't really know what to say. The boy was cute. She'd give him that. But really she just wanted to spend the time alone. Preferably without having to try and pretend to be interested in this boy and his apparent lack of metaphors. Kath imagined this boy knew multiple languages and enjoyed a bowl of cereal at odd times of the day. She also imagined him to have no siblings and a penchant for collecting rocks he deemed to be cool-looking. But her imagination was more often than not far more interesting than real life.
"What's your shoe size?" tall boy asked, gesturing to Kath's battered trainers.
"I don't, sorry," Kath replied, she didn't feel the need to engage any further, but the boy took a step closer to her.
"Disgusting habit. I know. But at least I actually smoke them. No redundant metaphors here."
"Well... I guess that's... something," Kath replied. She didn't really know what to say. The boy was cute. She'd give him that. But really she just wanted to spend the time alone. Preferably without having to try and pretend to be interested in this boy and his apparent lack of metaphors. Kath imagined this boy knew multiple languages and enjoyed a bowl of cereal at odd times of the day. She also imagined him to have no siblings and a penchant for collecting rocks he deemed to be cool-looking. But her imagination was more often than not far more interesting than real life.
"What's your shoe size?" tall boy asked, gesturing to Kath's battered trainers.
"Um... a size 4?" she replied, baffled. Kath's shoes were suddenly looking far more forlorn than she had thought when she put them on in the morning.
"Are you sure?" he looked down at her feet once more.
"Pretty sure. Been wearing shoes most my life now," she answered testily.
"Well, that's cool. I was just wondering".
"Right," she didn't know what else to add.
"Well then," He paused. "Waiting for the bus then are we?" he grinned at Kath.
"No. Thought I'd just wait near the bus stop sign for a bit. Thought it would spice my day up nicely. Got a lovely view from here". Kath gestured to a lonely looking pigeon that sat upon a lamppost.
The pigeon appeared to coo in honour of being appreciated for once. He had sat there for quite some time and the humans hadn't looked his way at all until now. He ruffled his feathers. Good, he thought. He had spent extra time this morning preening. Unfortunately the seagull he fancied hadn't popped by. Still, the night was young.
Read part 11 here
"Are you sure?" he looked down at her feet once more.
"Pretty sure. Been wearing shoes most my life now," she answered testily.
"Well, that's cool. I was just wondering".
"Right," she didn't know what else to add.
"Well then," He paused. "Waiting for the bus then are we?" he grinned at Kath.
"No. Thought I'd just wait near the bus stop sign for a bit. Thought it would spice my day up nicely. Got a lovely view from here". Kath gestured to a lonely looking pigeon that sat upon a lamppost.
The pigeon appeared to coo in honour of being appreciated for once. He had sat there for quite some time and the humans hadn't looked his way at all until now. He ruffled his feathers. Good, he thought. He had spent extra time this morning preening. Unfortunately the seagull he fancied hadn't popped by. Still, the night was young.
Read part 11 here
Wednesday, 5 April 2017
Life in Fiction (Part 9)
Read Part 8 here or from the beginning, here.
That party had been semi-fun, she recollected. Or at least, it had certainly been interesting. The thing was, she didn't not like parties (and neither was she against double negatives). She just appreciated being amongst her own crowd, as opposed to the array of characters that had turned up to the current event.
A group of guys were standing by the oven, waiting on the pile of food they'd managed to conjure up out of the freezer to cook. There was a slight burning smell. Not that anyone seemed to care. Little attention was paid to their culinary delights. Kath liked to eat when she had alcohol inside her, so she felt sorry for whatever creation had ended up in the oven. It certainly didn't look edible. Her stomach rumbled. She decided instead to grab another drink. It seemed a slightly healthier alternative than the burnt creation that was currently assaulting her nostrils.
Her drink of choice was that of whatever had been found inside the alcohol cupboard of whoever's party she was actually at. She couldn't quite recall the name of the host. A girl who did Business Studies with a friend of hers. The alcohol (she wasn't quite sure what it was) had been mixed with something that may have once resembled lemonade. Altogether, it wasn't the worst thing she had ever tasted.
Kath moved to sit on the stairs with her alcoholic concoction, contemplating why she had bothered turning up. It had seemed better than the alternative of sitting indoors with Lou and her Nanny Beth watching the epitome of horrendous Saturday night entertainment, courtesy of ITV. But she wasn't so sure now. What she was sure of, however, what that she would have prefered having her pyjamas on. Her skirt was beginning to cut into her thighs and she craved her slippers.
Kath was stirred out of her reverie by the sound of the smoke alarm, that was doing a splendid job of making it clear to anyone that there was an abundance of smoke billowing out of the kitchen. Bugger. Kath stood to leave the house, hoping the few who were trailing behind her weren't suffering too much from smoke inhalation. Luckily, nobody seemed particularly harmed. In fact, most people stood around in the front garden pretty non-plussed. Perhaps it was a very sensitive smoke alarm, and this was the usual turn of events, Kath wondered.
A girl who Kath had briefly conversed with earlier in the night came up and wordlessly offered her cigarette. She hadn't failed to recognise the irony of the situation as she saw the smoke being directed out of the kitchen window. Kath took the cigarette. She inhaled. She didn't enjoy it. That was that, then, she thought. Back in school teachers would constantly get on at you about peer pressure. Kath had never experienced such terrors. Maybe she was just in with the wrong (or right, as it were) crowd. It was one to cross of the checklist, nonetheless.
Part 10
That party had been semi-fun, she recollected. Or at least, it had certainly been interesting. The thing was, she didn't not like parties (and neither was she against double negatives). She just appreciated being amongst her own crowd, as opposed to the array of characters that had turned up to the current event.
A group of guys were standing by the oven, waiting on the pile of food they'd managed to conjure up out of the freezer to cook. There was a slight burning smell. Not that anyone seemed to care. Little attention was paid to their culinary delights. Kath liked to eat when she had alcohol inside her, so she felt sorry for whatever creation had ended up in the oven. It certainly didn't look edible. Her stomach rumbled. She decided instead to grab another drink. It seemed a slightly healthier alternative than the burnt creation that was currently assaulting her nostrils.
Her drink of choice was that of whatever had been found inside the alcohol cupboard of whoever's party she was actually at. She couldn't quite recall the name of the host. A girl who did Business Studies with a friend of hers. The alcohol (she wasn't quite sure what it was) had been mixed with something that may have once resembled lemonade. Altogether, it wasn't the worst thing she had ever tasted.
Kath moved to sit on the stairs with her alcoholic concoction, contemplating why she had bothered turning up. It had seemed better than the alternative of sitting indoors with Lou and her Nanny Beth watching the epitome of horrendous Saturday night entertainment, courtesy of ITV. But she wasn't so sure now. What she was sure of, however, what that she would have prefered having her pyjamas on. Her skirt was beginning to cut into her thighs and she craved her slippers.
Kath was stirred out of her reverie by the sound of the smoke alarm, that was doing a splendid job of making it clear to anyone that there was an abundance of smoke billowing out of the kitchen. Bugger. Kath stood to leave the house, hoping the few who were trailing behind her weren't suffering too much from smoke inhalation. Luckily, nobody seemed particularly harmed. In fact, most people stood around in the front garden pretty non-plussed. Perhaps it was a very sensitive smoke alarm, and this was the usual turn of events, Kath wondered.
A girl who Kath had briefly conversed with earlier in the night came up and wordlessly offered her cigarette. She hadn't failed to recognise the irony of the situation as she saw the smoke being directed out of the kitchen window. Kath took the cigarette. She inhaled. She didn't enjoy it. That was that, then, she thought. Back in school teachers would constantly get on at you about peer pressure. Kath had never experienced such terrors. Maybe she was just in with the wrong (or right, as it were) crowd. It was one to cross of the checklist, nonetheless.
Part 10
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