The content is purely for comical effects, please don’t get offended.

 

So, it turns out they do know what sausage rolls are here and actually more than the average Joe yet less than the top dog inventors, the British, despite the USA attempting to claim rights with their imitation, the “Puff Dog” – which sounds like a strong contender for Sean Combs next name change.

Max, the top Wheatbelt meat surgeon, definitely seemed to have his finger in all the delicious pies making various varieties of those bad boys every day –  these farmer folk lived and breathed these meaty stuffed mouth orgasms. But of course, it’s a known stereotype that farmers love a good pasty amongst others things and for sure I know this having lived in the British west country. It just demonstrates how cynical I felt leaving for Narembeen being like, these hillbillies won’t even know sausage rolls. Kill me now for I was the judgemental cunt because actually everyone had their teeth intact and I’ve never enjoyed socialising with a bunch of people more!

Whenever I enjoyed these homemade pork naughties, bite after bite there was no time to even savour the delicious flavour, vigorously, I would ram it down my very own pie hole – and in the 10 seconds of said pig scoffing, I always wondered, would I meet my very own meat pastried treat…my very own personal pork sausage whilst in this land of Cotton Eye Joe’s, would he be called Joe or would I continue to only endure the satisfaction of deep throating Max’s pastry counter whilst fingering the pies.

Arriving at Merridin train station after around a 3 hour journey, I was met by a smiley face, a down to earth, funny humoured German girl which later I would go on to realise…”not only was this girl a doll but she had a killer bod too!!” We went for a coffee and chatted, I instantly felt better – this girl was normal, I was sure of it – YES, I thought, there are normal people working in my future homeland –  I can do this and in those obese words of Eddy Murphy, my mind chanted…

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After a relaxing coffee, feeling there was no rush, we headed down a derelict road which seemed like just a straight line – think Jeepers Creepers without the creeper music but with a belly full of fear and anxiety! Alas, Narembeen.

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Narembeen, October 2017 – 3 weeks

 

Upon arriving, feeling like I was going to release a hot steaming pile of poo as I entered my room, I was really feeling nervous, should I have been more hesitant in claiming, “yes I can??”.

 

 

I unpacked my clothes trying to make it look as homely as possible – on the positive, I guess I was living in a pub (bucket list tick), 3 meals a day (potential weight loss & money saver) and my own room so really, I did feel excited – I wasn’t sure how strict lock down was so best not count my chickens yet.

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With what appeared at first to be a crazy angry midget storming the halls, the pub, everywhere you went or thought about going, I soon realised this lady had heart of gold whilst being an absolute mentalist! And besides, she is a good example to women when it comes to having their shit under control, shit in control and taking no shit.

The kind of lady that if you threw her into the most complicated maze, she would get out no problem – no wall to high, no puzzle too hard – easy peasy!

More about the one and only Julie in my next blog!

I got stuck into my first shift and despite never working in a bar before, I actually really enjoyed it as far as I remember and the more shifts I did, the more fun I had. Getting people drinks, chatting, flirting, hearing the gossip and waking up without a hangover was something I could get use to! I’d put some serious hours and money into being the other side of the bar throughout the years but now wondered, was this my actual destined side all along? Time would tell.

Julie was on fire, following me around watching everything I did, checking everything I did, correcting everything I did – but in the end her insane passion into training the girls a certain way with a cut throat approach became pretty tolerable and hilarious, she should probably have her own YouTube channel, I thought. To be fair I now feel I could go on to working in a bar outside of Perth which is always something good to have on the side.

In the first few days, I met another girl who started just before me, her name for the purpose of the blog will be “Girl XX” – so loud and in your face, there was no way of avoiding this girl, she was like venom once she got her teeth stuck into you. I did like her though, she helped me through my first weeks, coping with the culture shock and her loud and shameless personality got us out and about in Narembeen meeting folk and partying.

 

 

We met Zane, a lovable, friendly guy in which me and Shanice may or may not have broken into his house to watch TV. Irish Pete, so kind and let me watch Netflix at his during the day.  The guys from little Denmark, all these were actually really sweet and nice to hang out with. They loved there Captain Jacks & coke which is an actual drink, initially I thought they got the two drinks mixed up with the language barrier. Sometimes things got so heated here a cold shower was necessary!

We also spent time at Seb’s house with his beer pong and gorgeous puppy dog! He was a nice guy and his housemate Ben too. Sunshine was cute, a smart guy and Jamie was kind and funny humoured, he helped me when my vape liquid would run out so thanks for that too!

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The Last Night in Narembeem

Carrying my shoes and spangled head in my hands, me and Girl XX stumbled back to the pub around 6am awaiting our impending exit to Bruce Rock (BK) to start our shift at 10.30. All barmaids came to Narembeen for training and get shipped off there afterwards. Of course, deep down maybe I wouldn’t have minded staying in Narembeen because I had gotten use to it and felt like just one of the other sheep in the fields but hey, I try and be a positive thinker so onto the next adventure I thought! Little did I know what would greet me there! Thank you Narembeen!

Sometimes you have to face your fears to live your dreams!

Next stop, Bruce Rock.

 

 

So here I am – the outback; dream of fields, fields of fields – even my week long denial couldn’t stop my fate, in fact it made me significantly unprepared mentally, emotionally and physically.

I have been in the minuscule bumpkin village of Narembeen now for three week with the herds of farm folk, kiwi sheep shaggers sheerers and the endless tumble weed blowing by but let me take you back to the days leading up this present, very real reality.

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My Gold Coast exit was one rocky road indeed – and not the chocolate marshmellowy kind but the bumpy as shit journey made worse by heavily despising the situation you’re creeping closer to. Kicking and screaming, doors welded shut, no way to escape – my only thoughts – “fuck, how can I make time stand still?”

Surrounded by friends but painfully alone and way too much time spent in my own head got me feeling like my regional horror had begun prematurely because this is exactly how I envisioned the outback to be – dead, depressing and depriving.

There was one positive associated with Perth and that was the German guy – I’d met him in Italy a year prior and he was a ray of sunshine and a positive influence on my life ever since. To him, I was a fleeting encounter but actually his energy and vibe had stayed with me ever since. Recently moving to Australia, the universe had given our paths an opportunity to cross again and what better time than when I really needed a positive boost.

Monday 2^nd October – this day my regional work was confirmed and before I had the time to consult and OJ my way around it, I spent the last of my cash on my flight ticket to Perth leaving Friday night and the train to never-never-land on the following Monday. Why? I knew I had to reluctantly complete 3 months in the outback to secure my second year here in Australia. What followed was a series of destructiveness coupled with copias amounts of tequila shots and painful woasme’s. Six months of building my new colourful, bright and sunshiney life, the meaningful friendship’­s I seeked out and my rock n roll job as a foodie, lifestyle writer for a magazine was over or put on pause? Shit, it felt majorly over.

Australian systems are just off key – so many hoops and no promises but if you were to get into a relationship, you can stay – fuck, I know how my last year is being spent. Was it more likely to get sponsored or get into a relationship? At this stage, I didn’t even know – I’d never met a faithful aussie. This does actually bring me to my next point – the denial I was experiencing regarding leaving was intense, I even joined tinder and had a few dates in the last 3 days. He was half Japanese, 32 and seemed to be a fully functioning adult. He was married though which kinda proved my theory that 50% of men are – but this time around at least he was separated. During the date he got better looking after time and despite his pending divorce, he was cheerfully loving life and picking up chics whenever it suited him. Was I trying to get into a relationship to avoid entering the outback? But alas, I fucking failed – perhaps I came across too keen in my “get married quick” scam.

Friday 6^th October – Well at least I’d spent the extra and flown Virgin – I sat next to a fellow drinker so we drank our way through the free booze on-board. Tragically enough, even with the added altitude, the alcohol wasn’t hitting me where it hurt, this anxiety seemed invincible – what more could it take?

Landing in Perth still hating my situation, I got my phone out and booked an Uber. Arriving at the shady looking hostel prison, I knocked on the door to get no response. Was this actually happening? Could this experience get any worse – yes when some dude opened the door a crack and told me “what do you think this is, a hotel” – was it a rhetorical question, and I suppose to answer this dumb fuck? It was something my mum would say except WTF, this was a hotel, why else would it be on Booking.com. Anyway, really feeling frustrated I hadn’t been greeted with the smile I so needed, I said “look can I stay or what? I cant be arsed with this, I’ll find some place else?” He said I could stay and showed me to my room telling me I owed him 20 bucks for coming late. I say “what the fuck, don’t you get paid or something?!!” Not impressed with that and me feeling a bit of a CU Next Tuesday I attempted to connect to his Italian routes but little did I know it wouldn’t matter as the next morning he knocked on my door and my shirt popped open giving him a free-view of my huge boobs – funnily enough he never asked me for the 20 bucks again, the debt was settled. Maybe I should do that more often.

Saturday 7^th October – Waking up was hard – I laid in bed and finished the last series of Bad Education and Travels with my Father, if Jack Whitehall couldn’t cheer me up I was doomed. Nearly getting onto 4pm, no water or food I decided to go out and see what this place had to offer. Entering a bar I got a beer and rang my GC bestie Alex – I would go on to ringing him 5 times that day, every time I felt awkward like a fish out of the GC ocean.

Avoiding conversation with anyone, a doorman approached me and right then, I realised, talking made me feel better. I had been so obsessed with avoiding human contact I hadn’t realised that interacting actually took my mind off it. So with this, my anxiety slowly diminished and I quickly felt a lot lighter so I thanked this man and left for the German guy’s bar.

Hell, this boy had gotten even cuter! The bar was packed so I quietly got a drink and tried to catch his eye. His backed turned I called his name, “Alex!” – he came and gave me a hug and no more did I feel lonely – a familiar face really put me at ease.

Saturday 7^th October  – The day that followed was my favourite. A whole day with the German guy; I was curious as to why I had been so engrossed with him for the past 12 months. We met in Italy when I was visiting my sister and shared a few days together in Pisa and Florence. Something special exuded this human-being – just being in his presence was something I cant explain. After meeting him a year ago, the way I felt about him changed my dating standards – I wanted this feeling with any guy I met from now on – the bar was raised. I returned to London and as time went on, I stuck to this, I started this website and spent my time being productive and planning for Oz.

After 1 day in Perth, of course I felt the same about him but a little less intense – he is still growing as a person, experiencing new and different things so I will let this flower continue to blossom, like a fine wine, the longer I wait, the better he’l become.

Sunday 8^th October  – A sausage roll; a hot, meaty and delicious bakery treat was the breakfast I munched whilst I waited to board the train to the middle of nowhere. I mean who knows if they have even heard of sausage rolls let alone stock them. All aboard – NEXT STOP NAREMBEEN!

 

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For fun and love of writing, I have decided to divulge my past “note-worthy” relationships giving a brief story and final thought on each. Besides being intrigued, you never know, you might even see the effects of letting someone go you shouldn’t or staying with someone you DEFINITELY shouldn’t. Either way, the main intentions of the post are completely lighthearted for entertainment, so please enjoy.

Joyfully burdened with the power of my own independence, at some points in my day, I found myself thinking about my ex’s – nothing strenuous, just harmless contemplation mainly focused on my first ever relationships, oddly enough. In an Australian world where no more do I know the whole town and their dog, that inevitable portion of brain-thoughts reserved for boys is still available but instead of being used for present encounters, it’s decided to reminisce on my pre-encounters, go figure! In an attempt to challenge why such thoughts exist, I thought best I’d pen the past down, see if it stays there whilst hopefully learning a few things myself.

But first, in fear that one in particular might sue me with their “imaginary lawyer” I use to hear so much about, I have avoided names hiding their identity and comically using a celebrity photo to represent them instead. Enjoy!

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In no particular order:

This one is in the least of my thoughts but it felt fun to write something creative: This rotten apple painfully hangs amongst the fresh and vibrant avoiding his self-hatred by carefully choosing the fruit that seems easy-for-the-picking and in doing so, takes desperate bites out of their sweetness, poisoning their crisp flavour. Rotten to the core, one by one he carefully plucks all the friendly apples that hang around her convincingly professing she was the apple of his eye.

Continuously biting chunks throughout time that stood still, he attempted to strip her down to her own very core – his intention; to pull every ambitious fruit from the shining sun before they ripen dragging them into the dark pit that was his own existence.

Eventually bruising the skin, she thought, it doesn’t ring true that an apple a day keeps the doctor away –  for it actually takes just one bad apple to spoil a whole barrel, especially if you don’t spot it and destroy immediately.

Bravely escaping the darkness deemed her future, she has now grown her own tall tree that flourishes in the day-light with strong branches supporting her existence and the independence for dreams to grow.

Originally brought up in a country rocked by violence and political crisis, how could someone so pure and undamaged grace not just this very earth but my very own existence. The most kind-natured and sexiest species I’d met at the time was my boyfriend over 10 years ago. The travel bug really began with this one; we had mini holidays all over Europe and he wasn’t just my partner in crime, he was my best friend which was ultimately what killed us in the end.  Before this boyfriend, I don’t recall having a seriously “fucked up” relationship and maybe our mutual care-free pureness in life rewarded one another with each other. Sadly but surely, slowly the friendship grew stronger than the romance and our time was up – even the tattoo of my name on his thigh didn’t save us. With what I know now, I would have tried harder to reunite our love because he was everything I could ever want.

Maybe not meeting in the ideal setting being in Sourcebar at 2.00am, my blurry vision didn’t allow me to send a text and in asking the best looking guy who luckily sat next to me, love-hearts began developing in my already dis-functioning eyes.

What followed was a series of messy Saturday nights and our eventual development into being a couple. He was very handsome, extremely funny and although curiously elusive at times, we eventually moved in together and shared a cute little flat. I got myself back into working in Television paired with my love for him, my constant passion of solo partying and staying out all night. I felt like I would never want anyone else despite our own demons landing on each others shoulders to support disallowing us to focus on our own problems. I thought, no ones perfect so perhaps we could be perfectly imperfect together? What followed was a lot of imperfection but unfortunately, not together which pushed us apart even more. My regrettable behaviour rocked his boat so hard surfacing past issues causing a dramatic imbalance which couldn’t be fixed. I definitely ruined this relationship and it succeeded in haunting me for years to come not just breaking his heart, but mine too.

Filling a void from a past relationship, I took to partying and quickly found an appropriate match with this pretty out-there character. Initially disliking him from first impressions, I was told he was actually alright and gave him another chance. From what I know, he did try his best to catch me when I fell and despite the majority of our relationship being physical, we did connect and although I tried to stay loyal, I can’t confidently say he was with either of the species. Something lovable exudes him even with flaws like myself – my sisters particularly liked him calling him a safe person. We knew it wasn’t going to be anything that stuck and admittedly, I feel there was a world in our relationship I had no idea about still to this day but what I do know, the majority was alright and luckily for both, we came out unharmed, I think? Purely a partying relationship, it stopped when the music ended. I am still unsure of who he really is – I know he has a good heart but wonder why he takes the piss sometimes, hopefully he’s figured this all out by himself.

 

My first day at school I spotted my destined high school sweetheart unaware I would be rendered love-sick for the whole of my secondary years. A popular kid the year above me; his long hair flowed and I wanted him to be my very own Hanson boyfriend – even his brother had long hair! Four years passed and on his last day of school after arranging to take someone else to prom, he took my number and called me straight after. We spoke for hours and hours every night and soon we became everything to each other. He joined sixth form and when I left school, he accompanied me to my prom. After a year together, I was out in the world attending college, meeting new people and he had a new job in town. We sadly drifted apart – I think he met a girl at work who he was still with and I flourished in my post-school freedom leaving him behind.

He tried so hard to get me back, I said no, I should have said yes – what more did I want? By recently having dreams about him, I followed the acts of Adele’s “Hello” but true to her song, it clearly doesn’t tear him part anymore – but hopefully, at least he can see that I tried.

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In conclusion – If you don’t love yourself, date yourself until you do – figure out who you are and what you need to be happy – if you don’t and just paint over any damage, any one you meet will be a actual disaster!

Or, just embrace the glorious mess you’ve become!

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THE CONTENT IS PURELY FICTIONAL.

 

 

 

So, I’m 4 months deep into this Australian dream; what have I been doing, what have I achieved and where am I going?

What have I been doing?

Besides laying on sandy beaches, waking up to embrace the sunshine and moving 4 times across the Gold Coast, I have been keeping immensely busy juggling two jobs and a slowly growing social life.

I have been working for a Gold Coast bi-monthly magazine called The Four Two Society as a writer and photographer. So far I have worked on two of the issues distributed in their thousands all over the coast writing articles for my section, health and well-being and producing restaurant write-ups for the continuous openings that keep popping up. Predominantly, most my time has been spent visiting new seafood joints, burger bars, poke restaurants and some pretty cool cafes. I know, lucky right?

Entailed in these write-ups are firstly, a lot of back and forth via email to arrange a date and secondly, me heading down to these eateries and having their best plates cooked for me to taste, take photos of and naturally, enjoy some boozy drinks to wash them down with. I also tend to just hang and check out the vibe speaking to the owners and staff for a bit of background information to add to the article. Fortunately, this job diminishes any issues I often find around moving somewhere new – the inevitable lack of phone contacts – but with this job it doesn’t matter, I can happily go alone to some of the coolest hang-outs, munch on the newest food and I’m never short of someone awesome to chat to and make friends with!

That being said, here are some of my recent restaurant publications  – click the link to check them out!

 

A video update featuring myself as both interviewer and interviewee.