Monday, 1 December 2014

Christmas Markets

Christmas markets

Arriving in Frankfurt for the start of our festivities. High expectations, feeling festive coupled with low attention thresholds, thirsty for culture, beer and did I say beer?!
A few Cardinal rules for arrival into a big city, you're perhaps unfamiliar with and unsure of the language, are as follows.....
If you see a man walking towards you with an open bottle of wine, don't engage in conversation.....not unless in his other hand he's clutching two crystal glasses. It's a good litmus test of looney. This is also extended to carrying a bottle of beer, cans and/or anything unidentifiable being waved toward you. After all it was only 9am and its not octoberfest! 
It proved invaluable as my beautiful friend seemed to draw the.....shall we say circus 'extras'. Also added to the list of 'please don't engage with' was anyone with no teeth, insisting on smiling and anyone, who had more food around their face than they could carry on a plate. 
Thankfully the city is a great mix of beauty and the inevitable beast, just like everywhere else I've visited.

 Surely it was beer o'clock somewhere and time to join this merry band of locals in their charge to inebriation and pursuit of happiness!

Glühwein and steins was only the beginning. Schnitzel and hot apple cider led the way, slowly followed by brandy hot chocolate and beer with coke. The latter proved near fatal to the day, as it could have killed the evening. The four of us decided, best keep the two beverages separate, coke should definitely only see the light of day when too much beer has been your friend, the night before!
The streets in old town, Frankfurt were lined by dozens of stalls and drink stations, specifically united to encourage the poor shopping choices. Christmas baubles, souvenirs and ornamental steins were all around, each drink made them more attractive and a definite must have......here's where the money to beer ratio works in your favour. By the time your drunk enough to buy them, you've no money left. Thankfully that's one walk of shame we're spared. And as we know, procrastination, is the art of keeping up with yesterday, let's regret those souvenirs till next time.

Seated alongside rows of happy beer and Glühwein swillers, the party is in full swing. The atmosphere is New Years like and everyone seems on a festive high.
 Two new merry makers arrive, sitting nearby, an obvious married couple. He's wearing a tarnished emerald biker jacket, she's rocking a bat wing sleeved, leather jacket in either Congo pink or fandango......I had to google those. They were obviously time travellers from the 80's or just walked out of the darkest depths of a Bavarian Forest. On greeting them and welcoming them to the table in our perfect, alcohol fuelled German, we discover they are from plymouth. Exit stage left.
I think we managed to explore all the markets, even the pink market(don't ask, don't tell), met loads of fun people and drank our fair share of Christmas cheer. Left with an indelible impression of Frankfurt....and I think we left them with one of us. 

Wednesday, 8 October 2014

Scared straight.......

I sincerely apologise to the young gay man, flanked by fag hags, walking along the promenade today. However in my defence, jet lagged and just back from my run, walking alongside colin(my partner) and having a serious conversation about a good friend of ours....isn't really the time to try and engage me. So playful, flirting banter as it might be, to mimic repeat a comment of "oh yes really" with your limp sibilant lisp, accent and demeanour didn't get the response you were hoping. In fact the subsequent acerbic flood of A level induced fowl french, surprised me too. The vitriolic comments would not have made my mother proud, but my father would definitely be pleased. I, not only conjugated well, but utilised as many adjectives for the young man, whilst explaining with many verbs, of what he should do to himself, plus lots of adverbs, of how it was possible. I wish my A level teacher could have seen me, as long as she wasn't carrying her red felt pen to change anything, I'd be pleased.

In my defence I had endured, four nights out of bed in seven days, that doesn't make for polite introductions or small talk. Maybe it was the intrusion into deep conversation, or the little regard for the gravity of what we discussed, anyway, I think it's lesson learnt. I promise next time 'I'll walk on by'........although, I don't think Sybil really meant that when she sang about it....I'm sure she would have given him a slam. Sybil didn't suffer fools, well in my head anyway.

Let's face it, my silent prayers of 'God give the strength to have more patience' may not be answered.....Segway to heaven and he's up there thinking 'I can't do anything for the Middle East, world poverty or global warming but hell, I'd better help Simon be more patient' is highly unlikely. So I'll try my best and hope there isn't a next time.





M

Tuesday, 30 September 2014

Be my guest.....


Thank you sincerely to the inebriated couple that laughed and joked(it must have been the funniest one liner ever) outside my hotel room, at 2:35am. Even the hysterical game of knocking on hotel room doors and running away, wasn't enough to entertain you though. More jokes, lots more hearty laughter and hiding around the corner, only to stagger, whilst whispering(we can all hear you, probably more clearly than your talking)back to your room......opposite me. Here's the rub, I'm getting up at 6am.....And I'm worried about your well being, did you manage to get into bed, or did you pass out. Have you hydrated enough? Have you brushed your teeth? Do you have coffee in your room?
These are the types of questions I'm going to ask you when I call your room in a few hours. Rest well.
Note to the wise: the next time you play 'ratatat ginger' (knock knock) at 2:35amyou might meet the inner ginger in me.....and he's not nice :/
The expression 'we've all done it' was bandied around the next day. Well, I don't think I have. Am I missing out on something? Trust me, I've misbehaved but I've not gone down that route. So now today is 'don't poke the tiger day' and I can already feel how tired I will be......you know that tired, when you start confusing your words.....today will be one of those vaginas.
Here's hoping for the strength and endurance that I had in the nineties, those were the days....endurance of an Olympian, body fat ratio single figures and the only extra weight you carried was in the large quantity of hair gel and products.......for the girls it was hair spray and bangles. Sleep deprivation was the norm and I actually thrived on less being more.
For example- It was the early nineties that I went out for my birthday in Australia, with horrendous food poisoning. I spent my time between, doing shots at the bar, dancing like a loon and then dashing to the bathroom to throw up. To the accolade of my antipodian friends, who thought it was booze related, I remain a legend. How easy it was to impress. This was all due to the fact I've always been a FOMO HOMO. Fear of Missing Out. I just don't want to miss out on anything. It must be something to do with being youngest of three, attention seeking etc You know the score. If not, just watch that awful show 'Jeremy Kyle' these days you can find any excuse for any behaviour......and lay blame at someone else's door. How convenient. In my day I was just a busy child, now it's ADHD or a million other reasons not to have chastised me. I think I turned out alright, although maybe a few more slippers/back of my hand would have helped.

Sunday, 14 September 2014

Vancouver you've got me for twenty four hours.

Vancouver you've got me for twenty four hours. 
So I awake in my lovely hotel in Vancouver, bleary eyed and jet lagged at 3am. I switch the light on for the obligatory trip to the bathroom. Step out of bed and onto a plastic package on the floor. Looking down I see with closer examination, a pack of male tena pants. 
Now I know, I was incredibly tired last night and even with a few beers, I'm not usually that unobservant. 
So two schools of thought. One, whoever got into my room, saw me and made the decision to not rob me and/or abuse me in any way, just leave a pair of tena pants. Is that the equivalent of being the ugly guy/girl, who falls asleep at the Frat party and wakes up with more clothes on!?!
Or two, that the Sheraton hotel offers a late 'turn-down' service and they make a decision on whether the guest will manage a 'dry night'......I obviously didn't pass the assessment, the decision was made, hence the tena pants were gifted my way. Thankfully I was spared the embarrassment of waking up in them (As parents will testify, that could lead to low self esteem). 
*i hope they're not on the bill, if this is the correct scenario
Just for the record, I'm not happy with either scenario, so I'm just going to hope the previous occupant had issues! However, if you ever see me wearing a scarf and dark glasses in the chemist, you know the Sheraton was right.
Exploring the city and walking to the bakers later that morning, I'm chatting on the phone to my sister. When nearing the baker I say 'bonjour' (I'm so Cosmo!) to a local couple. Both give me a strange look and a half, nervous smile. Taken aback, I start to explain to my sister, that I'm kind of wearing what could be construed as pyjamas(dare I say play suit, if that exists for men), this 'must' be why I got the strange greeting. I then catch a glimpse of my unshaven(it's only been a few days) self in the shop window. My silhouetted reflection looks back in horror. I look like I've been electrocuted at a kiss concert, I make Keith Richards look respectable....I look stark raving bonkers. The combination of bad outfit and with hair like the proverbial chickens backside(all s**t and feathers), gives me the look and demeanour of a breakout from prison or an extra from one flew over the cuckoos nest.
I think it's time for a personal intervention and that's not a euphemism for touching myself, before you comment.
They say nothing is lost till your mother can't find it, maybe that's the perfect person to hide this outfit.
Well the day did improve slightly before the flatline of an evening. Clutching onto dignity, I'm meeting up with a group of friends. Lunch at the waterfront is breathtaking and watching the seaplanes depart and shuttle around the city is a must. The vivid colours, the mountains, the freshest of air are all vying for your attention. This is a must see destination. It's a real celebration of culture here, it's a given of 'outdoor living' and with eclectic restaurants and attractions. That's what it's all aboooot(as they say locally).
After lunch I'm slightly secretly pleased, as my friend was handed the camera to take the group picture *isn't it always the ugly friend who gets this job, in the sorority showdown of life? Thankfully it wasn't me for a change, as my million selfies will stand testament. 
So Saturday night arrives, time to work the flight home. I love working Saturdays, said no one ever. However, I love working as cabin crew, the travel was my childhood wish and dream. My father would get so frustrated, trying to deter me. Although of the many things he tried to deter me from, this he knew he couldn't beat. Hunger for travel, it's part of your DNA. 
Dad also tried to deter me from other life choices, if I had a pound for ever time Dad questioned my then hidden sexuality, I'd have had a badass Harley Davidson, he would have been so proud(secretly with some super cute biker boots, sorry Pops).
So homeward bound, in time for the left overs of a weekend. Sunday. Ug. My mother used to say "beware, only dangerous women go out on Sundays" sage words, as I'm meeting my girlfriends that night. I always thought I was old enough to know better but young enough to do it anyway....but maybe not. As I know it will start with "I'm only going for one, I'm soooo jet lagged" to body slamming and stage diving, whilst encouraging people to make the best sexual choices and life decisions. Oops Britney, I did/do/done/will do it again. Who am I kidding, to miss the health benefits from that one glass of wine a day, that would be churlish! And the positive effects of the subsequent wines, lightning funny comebacks, witty asides and hysterical observational humour! Erm, before the inevitable spiral to singing as Whitney, thinking you move like Jagger, philosophising life in general and demonstrating the next internet craze like planking.
That leaves hangover Monday(everyone hates Mondays) and Tuesday(Mondays ugly sister) before I fly off again. I'm passenger-ing on the next trip, no doubt next to a guy who'll claim sovereignty over the middle armrest, but none the less, I'll be rested on arrival for a change. Roll up your sleeves Boston, I'm coming to get you!

Monday, 17 March 2014

Great New Crime Drama

New crime drama..........well worth watching. 


This March a new drama series will begin on S4C  – a completely new mystery series, where suburban life comes under the spotlight.  
 35 Diwrnod (35 Days) will start on S4C on Sunday 23 March, 2014. Over eight episodes we’ll follow the thrilling mystery, presented in a new method of storytelling which will keep us at the edge of our seats, as each character comes under suspicion. 
The series is written by the BAFTA Cymru winning scriptwriter Siwan Jones and the award-winning novelist and scriptwriter Wiliam Owen Roberts. It’s produced by Apollo TV, part of Boom Pictures Cymru, and produced by Paul Jones. 
The story begins with a body of a young woman in her home on a well-off suburban housing estate.
We’re then immediately thrown back 35 days, to the day the woman moves to the estate. From that day until her death, 35 days later, we’ll unlock her past and get to know her new neighbours, and the secrets they keep on the estate of Crud yr Awel.
Life is not all it seems on the cul-de-sac. Sins and secrets lurk behind the manicured lawns. Gradually, as the days tick by, normal life begins to unravel and cracks appear in the perfect facades – all sparked by the mysterious young woman who has come to live among them. Who is she? Why is she here? And why do so many of the neighbours wish her ill?
Gwawr Martha Lloyd, S4C’s Drama Content Commissioner, says “This is a new drama which has an original way of telling a murder story. The secrets of the estate will keep us on our toes – as we try to piece together what happened to the young woman; how she died and who is responsible.”  
Award winning authors, Siwan Jones and Wiliam Owen Roberts, say that the intention was to create a drama which allows the viewers to play the role of detective.  
Siwan Jones and Wiliam Owen Roberts says; “We have tried to create the traditional detective genre but have turned it inside out. The viewers are the ones who will analyse the clues and events.
“We will sustain the mystery about the body until the very end and let the viewers solve the different motives by attempting to understand the suggestions we’ve planted here and there. We’ve also mislead and teased with suggestions and secrets which could be significant – or then again, not.”
And the truth about her death is a closely guarded secret. Only a handful of people were told the result of the story, and the truth only shared with the cast and crew in the final stages of filming.  
Paul Jones, series producer said, “It was vital to protect the identity of the culprit in order to maintain the authenticity of the story. The events of the drama take place before the discovery of a body, so the characters are oblivious to the tragedy that’s ahead of them.
“In 35 days time, one of them, or even several of them, will be held responsible for her fate, but none of them know it yet! It’s up to the viewers to make sense of the circumstances and interpret what they wish from the clues we lay before them.”

Over eight episodes we'll follow the thrilling mystery, presented in this new method of storytelling. They indeed promise, this will keep us at the edge of our seats, as each character comes under scrutiny and the drama unfolds. English subtitles will be available.


I was lucky enough to watch much of the filming of this and stand testament to this sound byte. A great combination of actors and script will create a crime drama worthy to follow and surpass hinterland.