I'm on the bus out of here....

Yeah OK, if I really wanted to go anywhere on that bus, I'd be waiting rather a long time. It's the old bus of the MShed museum in Bristol, and formerly of the Industrial Museum, a vintage bus on which I have "travelled" so many times over the years, for as long as I can remember.

But bus or no bus, I think I am out of here. It's pretty clear I am not updating this blog anymore. This blog always felt like my "Australia" blog and I am finding it hard to adjust it to my new life. I've lost my way.

So I'm closing up and moving on. But this is not the end, it's just the revolution. I've started anew.

Join me: The Weimar Republic

sumus Bristolienses!

One more exam to go! My Legal Practice Course is nearly finished! And then the real world is, once again, my oyster. This is quite terrifying. Although my previous foray into the real world turned out fairly successful, that was in another country. My track record in Blighty on the other hand leaves something to be desired. I hope this will change, but in the current climate, I have my concerns... Oh well, just need to keep my options open.

I have had 2 of my elective exams already - Employment Law to begin with and Advanced Commercial Property last Monday. Just Commercial Law to go, hence I took my IP statute book out for coffee earlier, as a first date, to butter it up, in preparation for the beginning of what I hope will be a short-lived yet passionate love affair lasting hopefully until 12.15pm on Friday 8th June. I've just dropped some custard cream crumbs into its spine. Surely that will win it over.

Coffee was an iced espresso frappé thingy at Coffee #1 on Gloucester Road. Yes, I have abandoned Beestonia for Bristolia for the week! Mark is away in Munich for a conference and with a lengthy revision period, I had a grave concern that a week of unstructured time in isolation might send me loony. Always a worry. I have a genuine fear of retirement. Or any period where I might be at home for a long period without any role more pressing than doing the washing up. No joke. For the same reason, finishing the LPC with no work lined up is giving me the fear. Financial fear, yes, but bigger than that is the fear of the endless ocean of free time I am about to be dunked into. I can't enjoy a dip in the ocean of free time if I can't see the shores of purpose, the island of responsibility, the dinghy of gainful employment.

So anyway, I am in Bristol, revising, enjoying the weather, enjoying a bit of TV and the company of Lep and Père. And not enjoying the public transport (Firstbus? FAILBus. Why can't the drivers just CHEER UP? I used to be able to u-turn the mood of the grumpiest of Post Office customers*, but the bus drivers of Bristol just DO NOT respond to my mega-cheeriness. They need some serious...I don't know...intravenous seratonin? provision of bouncy castles on their lunch breaks? Srsly bus drivers, stop bringing me down!) But the weather is pleasant enough for walking everywhere, so I can avoid the grumpy-poos and retain my joyful state. Tomorrow I may venture to Stoke's Croft for some srs revision and flat-white consumption. And I MUST go to St Nicholas Market and eat falafel....I dream of the St Nick's falafel stall...om nom nom nom nom nom nom.


*Case in point: A very grumpy man came into the Post Office, early one morning. He ranted, he raged, he had a parcel problem. Within about 15 minutes, he was ready to leave, a smile on his face, "Thank you so much, you are an ANGEL!" he cried. My colleagues stared in amazement. "What did you do??" they gasped in disbelief. "I gave him some of my good mood, there's enough for everyone!!" I cried, and undertook a flourishing dance to illustrate.

Reflecting and Spain

Sometimes I wish I had never lived in another country so I would never know what I was missing. I don't think anywhere is truly a perfect place to live, but now I just feel these huge glaring omissions in my life in England. Like the sun; beautiful surroundings; affordable yet good quality sushi; amazing independent cafes each different from the next (Costa I want to bring you down*); Sundays on the beach; incredible restaurants; and...y'know...general joy, fun and vastly improved quality of life.

But I know that if I went back to live in Sydney there would be other empty holes that cannot be filled. Like family; The Guardian; BBC 6 Music; affordable and regular live music; London; proximity to Europe, and British and European culture, history and society; better clothes; and just a whole lot of really nice and interesting things that make you feel alive. What I also get in England though is a general feeling that life can just become a joyless daily slog towards not a lot.

I uploaded a bunch of photos the other week from my trip to Barcelona the week before Christmas, so here's a little insight into some fun in the Spanish sun (15 degrees and bright blue skies - perfect winter). Mark and I went out there to meet our friends from Sydney - Emma, Anya and Ellen, and another of their friends, Hannah.

Beautiful poinsettia in our apartment - the apartment was really nice and so cheap!

We went up to Gaudi's Park Guell - the only place I had really visited last time I went to Barcelona. It's so lovely there, although seemingly permanently heaving with tourists. It's like a lifesize toy park or a strange board game come to life.

View over Barca.

I made everyone pose as animals etc for photos but Mark would not pose!

We found this amazing cocktail bar called Pile 43 which served 674824 varieties of mojito. We went there twice actually. The lady who ran the bar was awesome and gave us vodka-lemon slice-turkish coffee shots along with our mojitos!

Mark and I on our second (early evening) visit... We visited the Picasso Museum which is really good and well worth a visit - I love it when you can see the progression in an artists work (often from a fairly traditional starting point - always particularly strange with an artist such as Picasso who ended up known for something rather more abstract and modern. I think my favourite instance of that kind of development is if you look at the works of Mondrian - quite a transformation!)

We ate paella and tapas and drank sangria and on our final day caught the train out to Figueres, a town famous as the birthplace of Salvador Dali and home to the Dali Theatre and Museum, which houses the largest collection of Dali works in the world. It's amazing - Dali helped to design it so the whole thing is like a Dali work in itself. He is also buried underneath the building.

The main courtyard. There are creepy people in the car and it rains inside the car!

Emma and Anya on the stairs...

It was nice to come home for Christmas, but Barcelona was definitely a fun distraction from surrounding stresses of life and work. Made me glad to be in Europe.

*Ubiquitous blandness is normally associated with Starbucks I know, but I learnt something from the Telegraph Magazine today: there are 650 Starbucks in the UK, compared with a staggering 1,300 Costas. That's more than there are even McDonalds.