Another one bites the dust

Saying goodbye is never easy even if you can say it in 5 different languages. Last night I said farewell to a great friend of mine who is headed back to the states. In the hospitality industry, one thing I become disheartened about is the transient nature of its participants. I, myself, move on about every 2-3 years to somewhere new but over the last couple of years it feels like people are entering and leaving my life in a much shorter time frame. Don’t worry about trying to find a potential husband just holding onto friends is hard enough!

One such friend inspired me to travel to a place I had never considered visiting before - the homeland of vodka - Mother Russia. I met Julia (later to be nicknamed Julia Gulia after too many viewings of The Wedding Singer) when I was working in Melbourne a few years back.  We hit it off immediately and became inseparable. So after a ridiculous amount of emails I decided to visit.

 Moscow was my last destination on my first world wind tour. Now I don’t consider myself a bad flyer at all. I am the type of person who can sleep, read, watch a movie or just play Sudoku for hours on end and totally forget that I am 30,000 feet in the air. The flight from Rome to Moscow, as much as it shames me to say it, haunts me to this day whenever my flight hits turbulence. Looking out the window while descending into Moscow during the day and only seeing black sky should have been a big tip off. Little did I know at the time that Moscow was having an uncharacteristically bad storm the day of my arrival.  We all know planes have wings but what we also know is that they are not supposed to flap like a bird. To make matters worse the poor hostie, who was calmly handing out beverages, got to my row and then went ass up and spilt the drinks everywhere. What really made it real then was when she scrambled to her feet and ‘climbed’ her way up the isle to her seat to settle in for the ride.

The two Russian girls next to me were hanging onto each other like the world was going to end while one of them cried, a passenger somewhere behind me started throwing up and I couldn’t understand a word the pilot was saying because I was on an Italian airplane travelling to Russia or maybe it was just because I wasn’t really listening. No oxygen masks dropped but clapping sounds exploded once the plane hit the ground and I for one could not wait to get out of that cabin.

Moscow is an amazing city. History, culture, architecture and colour just brings this city to life. I honestly had no idea what to expect but what I experienced was amazing. I walked alongside the Kremlin, took a river cruise down the Moskva River, immersed myself into the ancient history of Russian Tsars, danced the night away in an underground club and experienced my first subway adventure where each trip up & down the escalator to & from street level took over 90 seconds to get to the tracks it was that deep.

 Then we were off to Petrozavodsk to see her family. It is here that I learnt the truth about the relationship between Russian people and their vodka. I was given a glass of straight vodka with dinner and couldn’t refuse, because frankly how do you say ‘where is the lime and soda’ in Russian? By the time my friend stopped laughing at me I made her get me some ice to water it down. I finished it off of course because I could not eat with my adopted Russian family and not finish my dinner beverage – that would be rude and one hell of a waste of an experience. Then we were off to indoor bowling. A nice relaxing way to get to know your friends dad however once the bowling shoes were on and the first pins were down, out came the flask for a little bit more of that moonshine. Here I am also introduced to shashlik and we enjoy a family outing in the cold weather by a gorgeous lake in NW Russia.

We then carpool to Saint Petersburg where we stop at a road side ‘market’ only to view dead fish that apparently have been smoked. OK so it wasn’t my cup of tea. Saint Petersburg is just as beautiful as you can imagine. Built on a number of rivers and canals we stayed up late one night to watch the bridges open in sync. I can’t describe what a relief it was to have Julia’s family as my tour guides. Even though communication was mostly via their daughter, her parents welcomed me into their home and their family like I was already one of them. One of the most amazing places they took me to was Peterhof Palace or Peter’s Court relating to Peter the Great. We spent hours walking around this palace and its gardens. After our short time together and a few shed tears later we said goodbye to the family and made our way back to Moscow. It was the quickest two week holiday I have ever had. Filled with so much culture, landscape and vodka a girl could ever want.

For anyone reading this blog and becoming interested in visiting Russia I would definitely recommend it. However I will share 6 simple rules I picked up that you will find useful should you not have your own personal tour guide/Russian family to show you the ropes.

1. Lean some basic Russian words/phrases.
2. Carry your passport and visa on you at all times. You never know when you will have to ID yourself.
3. Avoid the police at all costs. They may seem like nice men but if you see them around town walk the other way.
4. Russian taxis are far too expensive. Stand on the side of the road/freeway and pretend you’re hailing a cab. Don’t do this if you can see a taxi coming your way. When the coast is clear raise your arm. Any person travelling the same way you are will pick you up and take you where you’re going. Caution – you may only want to do this with someone that speaks Russian. That way you can negotiate the cost and the destination.
5. Act Russian. 3 and a half years later I still don’t know what this instruction really means but if you encounter a reason to act on step 3 then just go with it and act Russian.
6. If you feel the need to activate rule number 5 don’t think you can do this by using the 1 or 2 words you may have learnt in Russian. They’ll pick up on your accent.

With everything in life there are pros and cons to be experienced. Although working in hospitality can be difficult sometimes the upside is that you make friends who live all around the world and you can pretty much bank on being able to stay with them to visit.  First Dubai and then Russia, my first overseas trip was possible because of the people I met while working in this industry. As for my friend who is on a plane making his way back to the states as I type this blog? We’ll he’s up for some visitors in the near future also. All in all – gotta love hospitality!

Life in Vanuatu

Bislama is the local language in Vanuatu which, to most of us, is pigeon English. Semi easy to understand but can make you sound like a total moron trying to speak it. My team at the hotel are very passionate about teaching me their language and as eager as I am to learn, I stipulated only one rule from the beginning – teach me the naughty words first and then we’ll get to actual conversation.

Most, actually all come to think of it, of my team members didn’t speak a swear word during my first couple of months that I can recall. But after having worked with me now for almost 10 months I hear the occasional S & F word slip up. For a very religious country I’m shocked every time I hear it. Some of my girls blame me for the casual use of the word. Needless to say I haven’t made much progress learning the language.

So if I can’t get my ‘proper’ language lessons from my Ni-Vanuatu staff I’m now forced to turn to my expatriate friends to teach me. And what better place to learn then at the Voodoo Bar (local nightclub) over a few G & Ts? Now I’m going to keep this blog relatively swear word free but I feel it necessary, educational and highly amusing to share a small sample of what I have learnt so far with you all. Remember - I learn't this while sitting at the bar. And no, before you ask, I do not use these as conversation starters.

Toilet – Mi blong piss piss

Condom - rubber blong fuk fuk

Sex – Mi wantem sex

Helicopter – egg beater blong Jesus Christ

And my most used phrase – mi no save (sa-ve) – I don’t know

Port Vila is not what you would call a booming metropolis so eventually you start seeing the same people each weekend at the same parties or events whether you want to or not. I’ve got a couple of different groups of friends which serves as a nice mix during my days and weeks.

 I’ve got my dive crew. These guys have been a laugh a minute from day one. A mixture of Aussie, Kiwi, American and British, they put up with my ridiculous blonde moments at 7.15am each Sunday morning when really, I should still be in bed not trying to put together my dive gear. The owners of the dive shop have taken me in as one of their own and each new instructor gets introduced to me as if I were part of the operational team and someone they need to know and get along with to survive their stint in this town. One instructor became one of my best mates and she has recently left this diver’s haven and returned to Australia’s 8^th state. Seeing her is my first trip in 2011!

There is my beach and wine buddy. This Aussie girl has been here over 2 years and has a new ‘Vanuatu experience’ story to tell each week. She told me the other day that on one routine weekend morning she stopped off at her regular place to pick up a take away coffee. After arriving home she began drinking her coffee only to be confronted with a citrus tasting Latte. Thinking she was loosing her mind she took another swig. Nope, she decided it was not right so she threw it away. On her next trip to the coffee shop she enquired about the last coffee she received (she’s there every week so they know her like one of the family). She was informed that a piece of lemon accidentally ended up in the milk jug, heated and then mixed with the coffee. The question here is – how did lemon end up in the milk jug and then heated and not noticed?? Well all we can say to this (and many other situations like this) is that ‘It’s Vanuatu!’

And then there is the social butterfly of this town. She has lived here for most of her life and because of this you can’t walk down the street with her without someone recognizing her and waving hello. Actually I can’t seem to walk down the street without being recognized either but this not because I am some Vanuatu socialite but solely due to the friendly nature of the Ni-Vanuatu.

The August earthquake would have to be one of the highlights for me this year so far. Now I can hear you all asking – Is she crazy?? Very possibly but not in this case. I refer not to the aftermath (obviously) but the experience of the quake itself. Imagine yourself on a boat with the waves swaying you from side to side making you loose your balance. This is the only way I can describe this act of Mother Nature. I could literally feel the ground beneath my feet ripple and making those of us who bolted from the building look like drunks trying to stagger home after a big night on the town. I have had previous experience in this look and perfected it quite well.

Like any worthy tropical destination, the activities here include drinking, eating then drinking some more. My drinking escapades have taken me to a variety of places with a number of different people. I found myself at a schoolies foam party the other week surrounded by school leavers dancing up a storm. I was at first hesitant to join in but after a long list of Top 40 countdown songs played, some karaoke from the sidelines and a couple more drinks, I was up pulling some moves while trying desperately not to fall on my butt in the foam bath dance floor. I’ve been to some amazing houses and mansions, lazing on their beach front access drinking whatever came out of the alcohol cupboard. And I’ve also found myself sitting on an amazing wooden deck that overlooks the entire town of Port Vila surrounded by an amazing lightning show over a couple of bottles of wine.

The owner of the Voodoo Bar organizes musical entertainment from Oz or NZ every 6-8 weeks. The setting for these gigs have a picturesque view of Port Vila, the Sunday afternoon sun and about 30 bar staff to make sure your glass is never empty. A couple of weeks ago I went and watched Darryl Braithwaite and I was surprised at how many songs of his I knew. I’ve also seen Vika and Linda and Ross Wilson. Yeah I’ll admit I hadn’t heard of the last two before but I found myself up on the dance floor regardless having a good boogie with my mates. It was very entertaining and drew a good crowd. (the entertainers not our dance moves) What I am looking forward to is Shannon Noll in 2011.

Who said Vanuatu was a dull place to live? Not me that’s for sure!

A road well travelled

So I was sitting at the pub the other night with a girlfriend, enjoying a few Gin & Tonic’s talking about the paths we take in life and the situations we get into looking for adventure. She has just moved to Vila from Melbourne for a complete sea change. With no job but friends in the right places, she just packed herself up and moved to this topical paradise. So that got me thinking about some of the roads I’ve travelled with a sudden impulse that left many people around me questioning my sanity and the experiences my impulsive nature has afforded me to have.

Case in point – Dubai.

To set the scene I need to be fair to myself and inform you all that this was my first trip out of Australia and I was more than happy to engage this expedition on my happy lonesome – much to the dismay of the worried parents I left behind. Granted, I will admit that I only set out on this journey solo because I had the sweet satisfaction of knowing that I had one of my great friends waiting for me at the other end.  But still, with no life experience outside the comfort of the land down under, I should have realised I was in for an adventure of a lifetime.

Dubai was the first of 3 stops in my world wind trip followed by Italy and Russia. The first little bump in the road came when I didn’t request a specific seat during check-in. God knows I was well informed on the requirements of domestic air travel but the hype surrounding my approaching trip left me tongue-tied and unable to think clearly. So I ended up squashed between an unresponsive male who hogged the window view for the entire trip and an elderly Turkish woman who could not speak a word of English. Knowing I was spending 15+ hours like this, I began what I now consider a lifelong and satisfying relationship with my girls - Bombay and Sapphire.

Landing in Dubai, I felt the relief of more than just being able to get out of my seat. We were herded like cattle from the plane into the most elaborate looking terminal man will ever see. So remembering this was my first time to a new country, new airport terminal and new arrival rules, my first thought was ‘what the hell do I do now?’ There were signs for passport control and customs clearance but really, what did I know? So I just followed people that looked like they just got off the same flight from Melbourne (as if there weren’t 20 other flights landing and departing at the same time) and aimlessly followed them through to what turned out to be the customs area. Making my way to the end of the longest congo line I’ve ever seen, I was approached my an Arab man who seemed to know exactly who I was without a doubt and ushered me towards the front of the line. Now I don’t have to tell you how much that freaked me out!

Turns out I was regarded as a kind of VIP (for reasons unknown at this stage) and fast tracked through the check point. After helping me collect my bags he then left me to fend for myself and to make my way out into my new world. Exiting the arrivals gate, I was bombarded with men of all nationalities asking if I wanted a cab. I picked one and proceeded to get into the car while he put my suitcase in the back. I still to this day can clearly hear him saying in a rising panicky voice ‘I drive! I drive!’ Little did it register that I was getting into the driver’s seat not at all caring that there was a steering wheel staring right at me. Lack of sleep and copious amounts of gin will do that to a person not to mention the fact that they drive on the other side of the road so naturally the driver sits on the left. Once recognition reared its head, I hopped out of the car and into the front seat of my Arabian chariot.

I soon came to realise that taxi drivers all over the world are just as bad as each other. Sense of direction is shockingly bad, communication is poor and the fact that they want you to tell them where to go is highly amusing seeing as though I was now in the middle of a desert. So after countless calls to my friend (who had organised my VIP treatment at the airport) I took directional control over the vehicle and eventually found my new home for the next 8 days.

I played the tourist role perfectly down to a T. My friend had to work so she left me to fend for myself a lot of the time which was not a worry for this self confessed Miss Independent. On my first day I was dropped off at what can easily be described as the world’s largest shopping centre. There were gold hand rails, polished marble floors covering the 3 story building and enough gold on sale to warrant more security guards than Obama. All heads turned my way upon entering the shopping kingdom and I quickly realised I was not in Kansas anymore.

Once I got over the stares I wandered around and set off to go shopping. I scored some pretty neat stuff and found the most amazing place for lunch. The comfort of seeing a TGI Friday’s wasn’t what made me choose this restaurant. It was the window seat that I sat in that made my day. I spent my lunchtime gazing out a wall sized window watching hundreds of people ski and snow board down an authentic looking snow slope in the middle of the Arabian Desert.

My trip to this foreign land was possibly the best way to start my overseas experience. Yes it was way over the top at times but who wouldn’t want to have an all you can eat seafood buffet lunch at a 7 star hotel, built on the pristine navy blue water complete with an underwater restaurant and views of man-made islands in the shapes of palm trees and the earth as we know it? Or to go sand dune bashing with the windows rolled down in the jeep because the air con didn’t work or climb up onto a single hump camel hanging on for dear life while making chitchat with a family from Dubbo? (For those out-of-towners, Dubbo is a small red-neck town in country NSW, Aust)

So as I finished off my 4^th and final G & T for the night and lingered on some of the finer details of that first stop in my travelling career, one of my many future paths in life took formation as I said the words out loud for the very first time. This is one I am extremely excited about but have a lot of work ahead of me (and friends to get onboard) to get it to fruition. It wouldn’t be worth it if it was easy.

 It is a little known fact that life will throw you many curve balls but it is how you decide to catch or block them that will define your time here on this earth. I for one have my mitt ready and waiting, ready to catch that next ball. And as a good country girl, I am patiently but eagerly awaiting my next world adventure.  

And so it begins.............

I once read somewhere that writing is a form of therapy and a way to better understand and express yourself. Well I don’t believe I need therapy but I will try out this concept to keep my friends and family up to date with where I am in life and what I’m doing. So this path to self discovery and information updates has bought me to write my first blog. I have no idea what will become of this blog or what experiences I will share but I am sure, as with life, it will be surprising and lead me in directions I never thought I would go.

From the beginning........

2010 has been a great start to the new decade. I found myself running a hotel in Darwin (if only while my Manager was on leave but still a great honour and a huge learning curve), applying for a new job I had no real idea where in the world it was and packing up my life in a matter of hours to get myself to said job. Leaving family and friends was hard but I am a firm believer that when one door closes another one opens and you’re crazy not to step on through, or in my case bolt as if being chased by a pack of angry wolves.

February - April

I find myself in a new country with people I don’t know and trying to understand a language I can’t comprehend. Welcome to Vanuatu! Here I truly experience the definition of paradise and it is literally on my doorstep. I soak up as much as I can in 14 days before jetting off to the US and UK for a 5 week tour. Scratch that – make that 6 weeks. Mother Nature intervened and an unpronounceable named volcano showed the world that hell could literally break loose at a drop of a hat.  The 20-something hour trip home bought me back to Darwin to finalise selling off all of my possessions and start a new overseas. I must make a note here on how lucky I am to have the world’s greatest parents. I know I’m biased but it’s true. I was on a very tight deadline to get over here so they stayed behind and packed up my house and closed the Darwin chapter of my life.

May - present

 So now I’m settled in Port Vila with only minimal possessions from home. I live at the hotel I work at.  I have a king bedded bedroom (never had one before and can never go back), a lounge room with a fold out couch that will get a lot of action in 2011 and two bathrooms. And yes, I have stuff stored in both. As similar as the extracurricular activities here in Vila are to Darwin, my life here has become quite different. I work 5.5 days a week. Who knew that .5 of a day can make so much difference to how fast the weekend goes by?!? Now I merely blink and it’s Monday all over again. The need to cook, clean, wash and iron are of a foreign concept to me now. Certain joys (and perks) of living and working in a hotel. I’m confident I’ll forget how to boil water by the time I decide to return to OZ. I bought a car and her name is Sunny. She is a sky blue Nissan and she hails from the 90’s. We negotiate the hilly landscape together and often fight about the fact she doesn’t play any music I like.

 I moved to this country purely for the work opportunity. The company I work for took over the management rights to the hotel I now call home. We engaged in a full on multi-million dollar refurbishment project but I sometimes feel I’m living in a construction zone rather than a hotel. Things are moving along at their own pace (or more correctly referred to as Island time) and it is my job to field all the questions and complaints that arise amongst many other tasks. I manage 7 departments in the hotel and this has proven to be extremely challenging and rewarding at the same time. Life has shown that you gotta take the good with the bad and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I absolutely love my job and wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.

I thought meeting people here would be hard but as it turns out meeting people isn’t the difficult part. It’s the saying goodbye all too often that gets me. On my first official day in the job I met the person who would become my life line to the social network that is Vila. She has provided the much needed opportunities to meet new people and create a friend base. There is such a big Aussie/Kiwi expat base here I sometimes forget that I’m overseas. I’ve met quite a few people on my own and have created lifelong friendships along the way. More on those people in the up and coming blog updates.

Life outside of work has offered me entertainment, pleasure and relaxation not to mention horrific hangovers and sloth like work attempts. So in many ways this has been my Darwin experience all over again! In recent months my weeks have consisted of working Mon – Sat, accepting any drinking or dinner opportunities that may arise during the week, creating a Sat arvo ritual with a good friend sipping Oyster Bay on Erakor beach and scuba diving each Sunday morning with some of the best people I have come across before watching a band or enjoying a fine Sunday session at the local pub in the afternoon. And then like I said, I just blink and it’s Monday all over again.........

My life truly is extraordinary at the moment and I am enjoying every minute. I have managed to squeeze in two quick trips home to the farm during my time here and as I look toward 2011 my social calendar for the first half of the year is quickly filling up with trips I planned for overseas and people coming to visit. If you’re reading this and you’re not on the list of people visiting next year just know that my fold out couch welcomes you any time to come and experience the island way of life in the South Pacific.

I live in a place voted the ‘world’s happiest country’ and there is no way of denying it – I’m very happy.