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Tuesday, July 26, 2016
Monday, August 20, 2012
Day 8: Of farewells and mountain races
Once again, I slept open air, although I'm not really sure how much sleep I actually got since the mosquey singing went on well into the early hours of the morning. Don't get me wrong, it was hauntingly beautiful to listen to but when it's 3am, and you're planning on getting up to visit the tombs at 9am then you kinda want to get some shut eye. Woke up to the sunshine blasting one side of my face and what appeared to be a new mosquito bite on my finger.
Once it became evident that we weren't going to make the tombs before the girls' flight, we decided to stay in and were served a tasty breakfast of pancakes, flat breads and mint tea alongside a group of Australian girls.
Big Matt, Oli, Angela and I headed into the medina to go shopping for souvenirs and after a lot of haggling, we managed to acquire some hareem pants before sending the girls off on their flights home - Angela for a wedding, Katy for the Paralympic opening ceremony.
The rest of us, now four little Selwynites, piled into a taxi and headed to Imlil, a secluded little village in the heart of the Atlas mountains. The ride took about an hour and a half, and on the way, we saw many a mirage. We also stopped for brake fluid, which was a sign of things to come...this driver is the safest we've had so far, and with the amount of twists and turns on the mountain road, I was very happy to put my life in his hands.
Once we arrived at the hostel, we sat down to mint tea and fended off the owner's attempts to extract more money out of us, but he was incredibly insistent and eventually convinced us to eat a tagine there.
After a bit of exploration around the village, we came back with food supplies, a map of toubkal and four native jackets - mine for survival purposes, the other three for banter. Not even joking, I had not packed a single item of warm clothing and had been assured many a time by the others that I would die up there by virtue of freezing to death. Five degrees at the summit, last time I checked online...
Now that I was very slightly better equipped, we went back to the hostel for some delicious dinner, some of the best tagine that I have tasted. Knowing that we had an early morning start and a long day ahead, we decided to get an early night and after packing the essentials into a few bags, we had lights out by 10pm - the guys meant business, much to my surprise. Bring on Toukbal!
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Once it became evident that we weren't going to make the tombs before the girls' flight, we decided to stay in and were served a tasty breakfast of pancakes, flat breads and mint tea alongside a group of Australian girls.
Big Matt, Oli, Angela and I headed into the medina to go shopping for souvenirs and after a lot of haggling, we managed to acquire some hareem pants before sending the girls off on their flights home - Angela for a wedding, Katy for the Paralympic opening ceremony.
The rest of us, now four little Selwynites, piled into a taxi and headed to Imlil, a secluded little village in the heart of the Atlas mountains. The ride took about an hour and a half, and on the way, we saw many a mirage. We also stopped for brake fluid, which was a sign of things to come...this driver is the safest we've had so far, and with the amount of twists and turns on the mountain road, I was very happy to put my life in his hands.
Once we arrived at the hostel, we sat down to mint tea and fended off the owner's attempts to extract more money out of us, but he was incredibly insistent and eventually convinced us to eat a tagine there.
After a bit of exploration around the village, we came back with food supplies, a map of toubkal and four native jackets - mine for survival purposes, the other three for banter. Not even joking, I had not packed a single item of warm clothing and had been assured many a time by the others that I would die up there by virtue of freezing to death. Five degrees at the summit, last time I checked online...
Now that I was very slightly better equipped, we went back to the hostel for some delicious dinner, some of the best tagine that I have tasted. Knowing that we had an early morning start and a long day ahead, we decided to get an early night and after packing the essentials into a few bags, we had lights out by 10pm - the guys meant business, much to my surprise. Bring on Toukbal!
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Day 7: Of boarding schools and designer gardens
Today, we awoke to a breakfast of croissants that the boys had foraged for us, much to our delight. After gorging on too much pain au chocolat, we gathered our bags and headed to check in at the dar chrifa, a really nice hostel that's full of western tourists. By this point, it was 12pm, so we chilled out in the foyer with some mint tea, and this is when I realised the world was far too small, when out stepped - get this - two Cambridge chemists, one from my office, and one who introduced himself as Jamie's supervisor for part iii labs. What?
This was far too surreal... I didn't get to talk to them much as everyone was keen to get going, so guess we'll just catch up back in the UK.
We headed out to one of the museums and got to look at a lot of doors, artifacts, intricate ceilings and modern art. We also went to the Koran school and had a look at the dorms - they were tiny, a bit of a down grade from Cripps but far more entertaining with the attics and health hazard ladders leading up to said attics.
Afterwards, we headed out of the medina to look for some gardens that were owned by the designer YSL, on the way I managed to score some free bread - hells to the yeah, and inside, we spent a good two hours wandering around this little oasis of heaven. Beaten by the heat, we took a horse drawn carriage back to the medina, tried and failed to gain access to one of the mosques before heading to the hostel to chillax.
Matt had bought some postcards and turned writing them into a group effort, culminating in a crazy poem for Andy that made absolutely no sense at all. Once we'd exhausted our creative juices, we headed into town to look for little things to buy - since I was still cashless, this was pretty pointless for me but it was still nice to look around the shops.
Turns out this would be the last night we'd all still be together as the girls have a flight to catch tomorrow, so we went out for a nice meal at one of the restaurants recommended in the guidebooks.
Later that evening, we hung out on the roof, falling asleep once again under the stars and to the voices of the mosques...that were still going at 3am...
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This was far too surreal... I didn't get to talk to them much as everyone was keen to get going, so guess we'll just catch up back in the UK.
We headed out to one of the museums and got to look at a lot of doors, artifacts, intricate ceilings and modern art. We also went to the Koran school and had a look at the dorms - they were tiny, a bit of a down grade from Cripps but far more entertaining with the attics and health hazard ladders leading up to said attics.
Afterwards, we headed out of the medina to look for some gardens that were owned by the designer YSL, on the way I managed to score some free bread - hells to the yeah, and inside, we spent a good two hours wandering around this little oasis of heaven. Beaten by the heat, we took a horse drawn carriage back to the medina, tried and failed to gain access to one of the mosques before heading to the hostel to chillax.
Matt had bought some postcards and turned writing them into a group effort, culminating in a crazy poem for Andy that made absolutely no sense at all. Once we'd exhausted our creative juices, we headed into town to look for little things to buy - since I was still cashless, this was pretty pointless for me but it was still nice to look around the shops.
Turns out this would be the last night we'd all still be together as the girls have a flight to catch tomorrow, so we went out for a nice meal at one of the restaurants recommended in the guidebooks.
Later that evening, we hung out on the roof, falling asleep once again under the stars and to the voices of the mosques...that were still going at 3am...
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Friday, August 17, 2012
Day 6: Of space cakes and sleeping beneath a starry Moroccan sky
Before I start today, I forgot to mention that yesterday, up at the waterfront as we were waiting for the sun to set, a man came up to us. He was holding a tray of cakes, and had a chameleon resting on each shoulder - Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt. The man was touting the cakes as space cakes, and last night during our weird up on the roof with blankets and candles but no alcohol time, we'd decided that the three of us needed space cakes to get us through the coach journey back to Marrakech. Of course, when the opportunity came, none of us actually took it, massive fail.
Anyway, this morning, we had to check out of our apartment so we took our stuff up to the roof and chilled out, playing chess and listening to some Caucasian music. The day was too beautiful to waste, so I decided to go for a walk and steal some WiFi from the Ali Baba restaurant where we ate on our first night.
Compared to Fes, this place was so safe. I explored some new streets and came across a workshop for the wooden marquetry that Essaouira is so famous for. Back on the roof, we said goodbye to James and Katy who were catching the earlier bus to Marrakech - as soon as they left, it was beach tiiime!
We left our stuff with reception and hit the sand, although by then my hunger was so great that I had to go to the supermarket to pick up some cheese and sardines to supplement the sandy tasting bread. I say sandy because the wind was blowing so strongly that there was no escaping the little gritty bits of silicon that were flying everywhere.
The guys built a pretty impressive sandcastle, which some little Moroccan turds promptly trampled, much to Big Matt's anger. To cool off, we jumped into the ocean and I took custody of Oli's inflatble ring, riding the waves like a boss.
At 5pm, we headed back to pick up our bags, and some of us got a cheeky use of our old room to get changed, although it was pretty grim to move around covered in sand and salt. We arrived at the bus station with plenty of time to go, and had a pretty uneventful journey back to Marrakech - besides me spending 50 dirham out of madness on snacks due to hunger and having to watch the guys eat pringles for hours.
As soon as we arrived in Marrakech, we were bombarded on all sides by touts, left, right, centre, all wanting us to eat at their restaurant, take their taxis or buy their wares. We made our way to the square by death taxi - I swear our driver went on the pavement at times and he definitely drove on the wrong side of the road without fear several times...
The square was absolutely packed with people, food stalls and lights. I could hear snake charmers, drums and the sizzling sounds of open air cooking. The atmosphere was buzzing, so incredibly vibrant!
We met James and Katy at the Cafe de France, and they led us to the hostel that they'd found, which believe you and me, must've been a massive feat since it was down a maze of dark alleyways with too many twists and turns to remember. The place itself was really nice and open, but without air conditioning...
After dropping our stuff off, we headed back to the square and found a food stall that Rick Stein had frequented once upon a time. The chefs there were banterous and knew so much English slang, it was hilarious!
Afterwards, we headed back to the hostel, showered, and upon deciding that it was too hot in our room, Angela and I grabbed our sheets and headed to the roof to sleep beneath the stars... :)
Second time for me, first time being that crazy Wimbledon night. Gotta love open air sleeping when its got enough to not even need sheets! :)
X x x
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Anyway, this morning, we had to check out of our apartment so we took our stuff up to the roof and chilled out, playing chess and listening to some Caucasian music. The day was too beautiful to waste, so I decided to go for a walk and steal some WiFi from the Ali Baba restaurant where we ate on our first night.
Compared to Fes, this place was so safe. I explored some new streets and came across a workshop for the wooden marquetry that Essaouira is so famous for. Back on the roof, we said goodbye to James and Katy who were catching the earlier bus to Marrakech - as soon as they left, it was beach tiiime!
We left our stuff with reception and hit the sand, although by then my hunger was so great that I had to go to the supermarket to pick up some cheese and sardines to supplement the sandy tasting bread. I say sandy because the wind was blowing so strongly that there was no escaping the little gritty bits of silicon that were flying everywhere.
The guys built a pretty impressive sandcastle, which some little Moroccan turds promptly trampled, much to Big Matt's anger. To cool off, we jumped into the ocean and I took custody of Oli's inflatble ring, riding the waves like a boss.
At 5pm, we headed back to pick up our bags, and some of us got a cheeky use of our old room to get changed, although it was pretty grim to move around covered in sand and salt. We arrived at the bus station with plenty of time to go, and had a pretty uneventful journey back to Marrakech - besides me spending 50 dirham out of madness on snacks due to hunger and having to watch the guys eat pringles for hours.
As soon as we arrived in Marrakech, we were bombarded on all sides by touts, left, right, centre, all wanting us to eat at their restaurant, take their taxis or buy their wares. We made our way to the square by death taxi - I swear our driver went on the pavement at times and he definitely drove on the wrong side of the road without fear several times...
The square was absolutely packed with people, food stalls and lights. I could hear snake charmers, drums and the sizzling sounds of open air cooking. The atmosphere was buzzing, so incredibly vibrant!
We met James and Katy at the Cafe de France, and they led us to the hostel that they'd found, which believe you and me, must've been a massive feat since it was down a maze of dark alleyways with too many twists and turns to remember. The place itself was really nice and open, but without air conditioning...
After dropping our stuff off, we headed back to the square and found a food stall that Rick Stein had frequented once upon a time. The chefs there were banterous and knew so much English slang, it was hilarious!
Afterwards, we headed back to the hostel, showered, and upon deciding that it was too hot in our room, Angela and I grabbed our sheets and headed to the roof to sleep beneath the stars... :)
Second time for me, first time being that crazy Wimbledon night. Gotta love open air sleeping when its got enough to not even need sheets! :)
X x x
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Thursday, August 16, 2012
Day 5: Of sandy beaches and azure blue skies
Essaouira is a wonderful coastal town with a sparkling blue ocean, a climate more akin to a British summer, and a beautiful stretch of sandy beach. Its probably my most loved place by far out of everywhere that we have visited so far!
The day started off with us being awoken by the guys who, as usual, had no concept of an indoor voice and so we overheard all of their crazy plans about going for a morning run and swim. We forgave them since they brought back breakfast in the form of crossiants, and after chilling out on the roof we hauled our asses into gear and hit the town.
Our first stop was the fish market at the port, which of course held a delightful fragrance for both humans and seagulls alike. I was pretty astounded by some of the fish I saw - some were so big, and some so long! Nothing like what comes out of the packet...
We climbed up onto the wall that framed the port and walked along that too, before deciding it was time to put our bargaining to the test, acquire some beach bats and head to the beach.
There, it was windy but so so lovely, I reckon this is the happiest I've been since we arrived. The guys played with the beach bats and then football with the locals whilst the girls lazed around sunbathing. However, we weren't going to get away without an incident and today's took the form of a creepy man who kept on hanging around us...
It was disconcerting as he was clearly after something...our European and Asian organs?, and wasn't even discreet about staring at us. One of the girls got really mad but before anything escalated, we decided to leave and grab some food.
Turns out there are supermarkets here in Morocco but you gotta look long and hard to find them. Armed with bread and sardines, we ate on our balcony before going around the town to look for souvenirs. The guys were dead set on a chess set, I wanted a wooden camel for the brother but since I had no money and Oliver stopping me from making any purchases, realistically it wasn't going to happen.
Afterwards, we went to the town walls, climbed up onto them and watched the sun set over the Atlantic ocean...such a beautiful sight to behold - every bit the postcard picture.
For dinner, we found a restaurant with a balcony that was slightly over priced but still tasty, and continuing with the fish theme, I had fish tajine, by accident as I thought I'd ordered chicken haha.
On the way back, Oli bought some candles, and we went up to the roof with our blankets to chill out, inadvertently staying up until 3am to wait for the candles to burn out. It was pretty surreal, one of those experiences that feels more like a drunken one than anything else. I mean, we even named the candles...One for each of the fallen comrades: Laurence, Nic and Leena. Around 2am, a cockerel started crowing, adding to the madness, and I can tell you that it was most definitely still going at 3am...
All in all, a mostly hassle free day!
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The day started off with us being awoken by the guys who, as usual, had no concept of an indoor voice and so we overheard all of their crazy plans about going for a morning run and swim. We forgave them since they brought back breakfast in the form of crossiants, and after chilling out on the roof we hauled our asses into gear and hit the town.
Our first stop was the fish market at the port, which of course held a delightful fragrance for both humans and seagulls alike. I was pretty astounded by some of the fish I saw - some were so big, and some so long! Nothing like what comes out of the packet...
We climbed up onto the wall that framed the port and walked along that too, before deciding it was time to put our bargaining to the test, acquire some beach bats and head to the beach.
There, it was windy but so so lovely, I reckon this is the happiest I've been since we arrived. The guys played with the beach bats and then football with the locals whilst the girls lazed around sunbathing. However, we weren't going to get away without an incident and today's took the form of a creepy man who kept on hanging around us...
It was disconcerting as he was clearly after something...our European and Asian organs?, and wasn't even discreet about staring at us. One of the girls got really mad but before anything escalated, we decided to leave and grab some food.
Turns out there are supermarkets here in Morocco but you gotta look long and hard to find them. Armed with bread and sardines, we ate on our balcony before going around the town to look for souvenirs. The guys were dead set on a chess set, I wanted a wooden camel for the brother but since I had no money and Oliver stopping me from making any purchases, realistically it wasn't going to happen.
Afterwards, we went to the town walls, climbed up onto them and watched the sun set over the Atlantic ocean...such a beautiful sight to behold - every bit the postcard picture.
For dinner, we found a restaurant with a balcony that was slightly over priced but still tasty, and continuing with the fish theme, I had fish tajine, by accident as I thought I'd ordered chicken haha.
On the way back, Oli bought some candles, and we went up to the roof with our blankets to chill out, inadvertently staying up until 3am to wait for the candles to burn out. It was pretty surreal, one of those experiences that feels more like a drunken one than anything else. I mean, we even named the candles...One for each of the fallen comrades: Laurence, Nic and Leena. Around 2am, a cockerel started crowing, adding to the madness, and I can tell you that it was most definitely still going at 3am...
All in all, a mostly hassle free day!
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Monday, August 13, 2012
Day 4: Of twelve hour journeys and hostage situations
Today...wow. Just wow. It started off with us waking up at half five, me by myself since I was being quarantined on account of the poisoning despite it being non contagious...thanks guys... Anyway, by 6am we had left the hostel and were flagging down taxis at the fountain to take us to the station in order to catch our train to Marrakech at 6.50am.
The journey was seven hours long, so I started and finished glitch, a young adult novel that I highly recommend, the first thing I've come across since the hunger games that I've really liked. Also managed a chapter of the selfish gene, another book I recommend if you can get past dawkins' inflated ego!
Somewhere along the line, I realised my bank card had gone for a walkabout so I ended up spending fifteen minutes racking up a massive bill as I was transferred from department to department, casually trying to cancel my card. Got well annoyed when I tried to find out if my card had been used in the last day and I got denied access to my account because I failed to answer one security question since I could not understand a word of what the woman was saying on the other end.
Eventually, we arrived and met Oli, then took a 3 hour long bus to the coastal town, essouira. Fun.
Once we arrived, we headed to the place we'd pre booked and there we ran into issues. It began with the sewer stench outside the hostel, a smell that lingered inside the building - we knew then that we could not stay here. The lack of air conditioning i.e false advertising to us was just an excuse to get us out of our booking, but as expected it got ugly and very soon we were exchanging threats and the hostel owner was barring the exit, refusing to
us leave. Both sides even threatened to get the police involved but we thought that the hostel owner was calling up his mates to get them involved, which prompted us to call the British embassy...
And then the man relented, and we all legged it.
Shaken, we headed to the beach to regroup. All of us girls were pretty upset, especially me since it was my card details and address that they had. Luckily, my card had been cancelled earlier today so hopefully my account is safe. But now I'm very very paranoid about what they're gonna do with my address and this is something that no one could help me deal with... :/
We quickly found somewhere else to stay, an apartment with a rooftop terrace for a fraction of the price of the original hotel so after we checked in, we went out for dinner, something relaxing to end what was supposed to be a relaxing day...
Xxx
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The journey was seven hours long, so I started and finished glitch, a young adult novel that I highly recommend, the first thing I've come across since the hunger games that I've really liked. Also managed a chapter of the selfish gene, another book I recommend if you can get past dawkins' inflated ego!
Somewhere along the line, I realised my bank card had gone for a walkabout so I ended up spending fifteen minutes racking up a massive bill as I was transferred from department to department, casually trying to cancel my card. Got well annoyed when I tried to find out if my card had been used in the last day and I got denied access to my account because I failed to answer one security question since I could not understand a word of what the woman was saying on the other end.
Eventually, we arrived and met Oli, then took a 3 hour long bus to the coastal town, essouira. Fun.
Once we arrived, we headed to the place we'd pre booked and there we ran into issues. It began with the sewer stench outside the hostel, a smell that lingered inside the building - we knew then that we could not stay here. The lack of air conditioning i.e false advertising to us was just an excuse to get us out of our booking, but as expected it got ugly and very soon we were exchanging threats and the hostel owner was barring the exit, refusing to
us leave. Both sides even threatened to get the police involved but we thought that the hostel owner was calling up his mates to get them involved, which prompted us to call the British embassy...
And then the man relented, and we all legged it.
Shaken, we headed to the beach to regroup. All of us girls were pretty upset, especially me since it was my card details and address that they had. Luckily, my card had been cancelled earlier today so hopefully my account is safe. But now I'm very very paranoid about what they're gonna do with my address and this is something that no one could help me deal with... :/
We quickly found somewhere else to stay, an apartment with a rooftop terrace for a fraction of the price of the original hotel so after we checked in, we went out for dinner, something relaxing to end what was supposed to be a relaxing day...
Xxx
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Sunday, August 12, 2012
Day 3: KO'd
That's right, today was a complete write off for me as I ended up KO'd by food poisoning. And here I was hoping to not be the first to get ill too...
I knew something was up when I first woke up, it was made more suspicious when the sight of breakfast made me feel queasy, and finally confirmed when I threw up the glass of orange juice I'd literally just downed. The next few hours were pretty hellish, with my body temperature going crazy - I was freezing in a forty degree climate...what? - and me vomming periodically. Upon the advice of Katy, our fourth year medic and my brother, a third year medic, I broke into my stash of antibiotics and lay down in my room for the rest of the day whilst the others went out and about, visiting the local museum and running around like crazy after the next disaster was announced..
This being a message from Leena saying that Oli had missed his flight by turning up only with an hour to go - uhhh...seriosuly? This threw everyone off, and an emergency meeting was called up on the roof sans moi to decide what to do.
The girls won out and looks like we'll be leaving at six in the morning on an eight hour train for Marrakech, to arrive there at three in the afternoon. We'll be staying at Essaouira for three nights now, instead of two, and hopefully, Oli and Leena will be on a flight to Marrakech tomorrow morning. Fingers crossed it all goes to plan, and fingers crossed I'll be able to survive the journey...
Saturday, August 11, 2012
Day 2: Of ruins, and relics, and scary men
Today was a bit of a mixed day - on the one hand, we found out that we could fit seven people in a taxi, maybe eight if the eighth person was a really tiny little person, and then on the other hand, Jackie and I almost got stoned for not being Moroccan.
The day began with us girls waking up at 9:30am, exactly the correct time for breakfast. Unfortunately, since our room is situated on the ground floor with the door opening onto the main common foyer with the communal food table, this meant that everyone was watching us as we made our shameful ways out. Jackie, an American who was travelling by herself, joined us for our day trip to Meknes, a city that is half an hour away by train.
At the station, James and I went to buy the tickets, and at last, we could finally put our GCSE French role plays into use! You can get some pretty decent prices for the train - 20 DH for an aller retour, deuxieme classe which was still our own carriage, albeit with some dodgy faux air conditioning.
Once we arrived, we bargained with a taxi driver to take us to Volubilis, a city of ruins that lies half an hour away from Meknes. We were told by another traveller that he paid 350 DH for the trip, so we decided to tell the driver that an American got the journey for 250 DH, prompting the man to lower his price from 400 DH to 300 DH. Fantastic, apart from the efforts to fit six of us into four seats. The pictures will follow.
On the way, we saw some pretty neat wildlife - tall cactus trees, short cacti bearing fruit that was sold at the markets, goats and wild horses. At Volubilis, we proceeded to explore the ruins, adopting Katy as our tour guide. It was breathtaking to see just how well some of the mosaics had been preserved, and despite attempting to sacrifice Jackie at an altar in exchange for rain, we only received a mild cooling breeze as relief from the scorching sun.
By the time we got back to Meknes, it was around three in the afternoon, and we decided to go look for food in the souks...which only turned out to sell "Adidas", "Ralph Lauren" and "Gucci" belts. We wandered around that maze for ages, seeing so many pretty clothes - wish I'd made some purchases - and so many everyday things for sale. This place seemed to be the market for locals, as opposed to the souks in Fes that seemed to target tourists.
Eventually, Angela, Jackie and I gave up and headed to a cafe on the square whilst the others carried on looking for budget food. Not gonna lie, the soup, sandwich and chips were totally worth it - something the cats thought so too as they congregated around our table in droves. One particular tiny cat made a show of sitting next to me, gazing upwards into my eyes and meowing pitifully, repeatedly begging for food. Gave in, and fed it a small piece of sausage but then instantly regretted that when even more cats began to migrate over...
When we joined up with the rest, we headed to the palace to have a look around, only to be told we weren't allowed in. The guidebook warned us that we would be left with an impression of high walls, and indeed, it was not wrong. Drawing ever closer to the time in which we'd decided to head back, we caught taxis back to the station and waited it out for the five thirty four. Unfortunately, this is where it all started to go wrong.
Parched for thirst, I'd decided to buy a Solero and in my haste, forgot that it was bad form to eat in front of the fasting natives. We were walking though a tunnel when one of the men began to say something - something like, "you are eating an ice cream, blahblahblah." Didn't think anything of it.
We went to our platform, sat on some benches and proceeded to wait for the train. A few minutes later, the same man emerges from the tunnel, walks towards us, sits down next to me and then starts to have a go at me. Jackie tells me to ignore him, and from then onwards, he turns onto her and starts a barrage of abuse that completely shocked us both. We were coming into the country without respect for the locals, she was dressed like a prostitute because her shoulders were showing, her mother was a hooker, we were all hookers, she was ugly, I was ugly, in this country we were ugly, etc. etc.
Jackie scared him away by yelling about how we were going to get the police involved, to which he replied, get this - "fuck the police".
Like seriously, which TV show did he watch to learn that line?
We thought that would be the end of it, but he wasn't finished with us, not by a long shot. He crossed over to the other side of the tracks, hung around for a bit, eyeing us up, and then jumped back onto the tracks, and picked up a rock with the intention of throwing it at us.
Um, what?
This had just begun to turn really nasty. Now all the girls were standing in a group, with the guys in front of us, facing off against each other. It took two local Moroccan men to drag that dickwad away, who then started arguing with all of the men on the other platform, presumably about us. Eventually, he turned up again, this time to apologise and to tell James and Big Matt to inform us that we should not speak.
Like, seriously. In this day and age.
He then proceeded to get on the same train as us, albeit on a different carriage, but not before walking through every carriage to see where we were sitting.
By the time we got back to the hostel, we'd recovered from this incident, but it left a bitter taste in our mouths, especially for Jackie, who as a lone traveller had been subject to abuse like this for the duration of her travels here. It was such a shame, as the day had started off so well too, and we'd wanted to give her a pleasant experience for the end of her journey.
After sorting out our finances to some mint tea on the roof with the new Hungarian travellers, we decided it was time to eat - by then it was nine in the evening, and whilst we weren't particularly hungry due to the heat, brain said it was a good idea to pack in the calories so we headed back into the medina, to the area where we'd eaten yesterday. This time, we went to La Palma, upon being won over by Abdul, a man with a silver tongue and the catchphrase: "We don't push like George Bush", much to our hilarity.
We played the touts off against each other at first, until Abdul agreed to give us the set price menu for 40 DH instead of 70 DH with free drinks and mint tea and bread. Hells to the YEAH.
I had Moroccan soup, lamb tagine and melon, all of which was yum. Whilst the soup was better at lunch and the tagine better at the place we went to yesterday, the prices here were top notch, as was the entertainment from Abdul. Not only did he teach us how to say "We don't puch like George Bush" in Arabic, he also taught us the classic, "High five", "No thanks", and "What the hell are you doing?" all very important phrases that every traveller needs to be made aware of. In addition, he gave us the number of his friend Mohammed, a taxi driver in Marrakech who would apparently give us cheap travel. Lols.
After dinner, Jackie and I went to buy some fruit - I found four donut peaches for 10 DH!!!!!!!! AHH MAHH GAAHH, when in England they're like 40p each???!
Back at the hostel, I showered and washed my clothes again, only this time, my magical Moroccan washing genie did not appear and I had to make do with poor technique.
Highlights:
Volubilis! i.e. ruins, and relics, disciples and the young~
Dinner avec le Abdul the waiter
Fails:
The threat of being stoned by a maniac
Day 2 survived in a mere 40 degree high!
xxx
Friday, August 10, 2012
Day 1: Of Sandal Tans and Marriage Proposals
That's right, two hours out of the hotel and I'm sporting my trademark sandal tan, the annual epidermal nemesis that like a cancer, just won't go away (until winter time).
Anyway, this morning, we woke to a wonderful breakfast spread of muesli, yoghurt, deliciously pulpy orange juice, flat bread with cheese, a bowl of fruit salad and some mint tea. After being slightly suspicious of the fruit salad and being assured that I would not die if I consumed it, I decided I was in gastronomical heaven.
Yum. Mere words cannot describe the experience that only comes with sight and taste, so I'll leave it at that until I can find somewhere with an SD slot to upload my photos.
We decided to explore the medina of Fes today, and wandered around the old quarter, circling the mosque - which we are forbidden from entering, but managed to catch some tantalising glances through open doors. Not sure if we were allowed to take photos, probably not...
During our explorations, I finally had my first experience with the local tout, the guy who follows you around, convincing you that he is your best friend in the two minutes you have known him, the guy who does his utter best to part you from your cash, yet cannot hope to go against the likes of the five of us. We tried several times to evade one particular tout who was determined to take us to his tannery, and eventually lost him, after a lot of backtracking and time wasting.
However, we did end up in a tannery, on Big Matt's recommendation, and we made a pact to help each other resist the shopkeeper's advances, should he try to sell us anything. Climbing up many flights of stairs, we reached the roof and gazed out onto an incredible sight - vats upon vats of dyes, and so much wool strewn everywhere. I think these vats are pretty ancient, hundreds of years old!
Walking around the small streets was pretty awesome, especially when there were so many shops and stalls to look at. The souks sold everything - instruments, slippers, jewellery, all with a Moroccan twist. And the cats...cats, cats everywhere! They were tiny, tiny little things, roaming the streets like pigeons. We saw so many donkeys as well, lugging around bags and goods. In some stalls, I saw turtles, pigeons and chickens for sale - in fact, one of the men tried to shove a pigeon in Angela's face, much to my amusement.
However, we did end up in a tannery, on Big Matt's recommendation, and we made a pact to help each other resist the shopkeeper's advances, should he try to sell us anything. Climbing up many flights of stairs, we reached the roof and gazed out onto an incredible sight - vats upon vats of dyes, and so much wool strewn everywhere. I think these vats are pretty ancient, hundreds of years old!
Walking around the small streets was pretty awesome, especially when there were so many shops and stalls to look at. The souks sold everything - instruments, slippers, jewellery, all with a Moroccan twist. And the cats...cats, cats everywhere! They were tiny, tiny little things, roaming the streets like pigeons. We saw so many donkeys as well, lugging around bags and goods. In some stalls, I saw turtles, pigeons and chickens for sale - in fact, one of the men tried to shove a pigeon in Angela's face, much to my amusement.
What I found weird was that everyone here thought I was Japanese - I had konnichiwa yelled at me all day, which was extremely disconcerting - guess they don't get many Chinese tourists here. Pretty lady, and various marriage proposals also seemed to be normal forms of sexual harrassment. So, girlfriends, if your self esteem is in need of a boost, then rock up to Morocco and no matter what you wear, even if you cover yourself from head to toe and have bug eyed reflector shades on, rest assured that you will still have at least three marriage proposals per day.
The heat made it difficult to get about after midday, with a high of forty three degrees. Everyone became extremely lethargic, and had the hunger sucked out of them, but I insisted on eating and determinedly made my way - solo - to a pizza place I'd spotted, realised they only spoke French, and ordered...not a pizza, but a sandwich and chips that inspired another traveller at the hostel to follow suit! What a trendsetter. ^_^
In the afternoon, we visited the not so old part of Fes, but didn't make any of the attractions - the synagogue or the Jewish cemetery simply because we were being harassed by too many locals, all wanting money from us. Massive shame, but at least we got to wander through the souks and look at lots of Hello Kitty tshirts and fake Ray Bans.
In the evening, we planned on heading to the tombs to watch the sun set and the cannons go off to signal the end of fasting - again, this didn't happen on account of us getting lost and losing too much daylight. Given that we can't communicate too well here, the last thing we wanted was to be stranded up on the hills with a broken ankle, scrabbling around in the dark - perfect start for a horror movie.
Dinner, however, was something we all managed to make - Big Matt strategically played all the restaurant touts off against each other and managed to get us free drinks at the place we ended up at. We had cats eyeing up our meal, and the only way to deal with them was to scare them away. Loved the complimentary bread and lentil dip. I ordered a beef tagine with vegetables, and boy was it delish. The meat was so tender, the flavours so mouthwateringly tasty that I am now resolved to figure out the secrets of this dish and bring it back home! ^_^
Finally, we got back to the hostel, and after a shower interrupted by many scary horror movie style power cuts, I headed up to the roof to join the others for some mint tea, after attempting to handwash my clothes and having the same Moroccan woman as yesterday turn up magically and take over, completing what I couldn't do in a mere minute before my very eyes. Seriously, she hand washes clothes like a boss.
Highlights of the day:
Breakfast, lunch, dinner, Moroccan oranges
Lows:
Too much "Konnichiwaaaaa!! Arigato!" ~_~
43 degree furnace
Day 1, survived. Roll on the next...
xxx
The heat made it difficult to get about after midday, with a high of forty three degrees. Everyone became extremely lethargic, and had the hunger sucked out of them, but I insisted on eating and determinedly made my way - solo - to a pizza place I'd spotted, realised they only spoke French, and ordered...not a pizza, but a sandwich and chips that inspired another traveller at the hostel to follow suit! What a trendsetter. ^_^
In the afternoon, we visited the not so old part of Fes, but didn't make any of the attractions - the synagogue or the Jewish cemetery simply because we were being harassed by too many locals, all wanting money from us. Massive shame, but at least we got to wander through the souks and look at lots of Hello Kitty tshirts and fake Ray Bans.
In the evening, we planned on heading to the tombs to watch the sun set and the cannons go off to signal the end of fasting - again, this didn't happen on account of us getting lost and losing too much daylight. Given that we can't communicate too well here, the last thing we wanted was to be stranded up on the hills with a broken ankle, scrabbling around in the dark - perfect start for a horror movie.
Dinner, however, was something we all managed to make - Big Matt strategically played all the restaurant touts off against each other and managed to get us free drinks at the place we ended up at. We had cats eyeing up our meal, and the only way to deal with them was to scare them away. Loved the complimentary bread and lentil dip. I ordered a beef tagine with vegetables, and boy was it delish. The meat was so tender, the flavours so mouthwateringly tasty that I am now resolved to figure out the secrets of this dish and bring it back home! ^_^
Finally, we got back to the hostel, and after a shower interrupted by many scary horror movie style power cuts, I headed up to the roof to join the others for some mint tea, after attempting to handwash my clothes and having the same Moroccan woman as yesterday turn up magically and take over, completing what I couldn't do in a mere minute before my very eyes. Seriously, she hand washes clothes like a boss.
Highlights of the day:
Breakfast, lunch, dinner, Moroccan oranges
Lows:
Too much "Konnichiwaaaaa!! Arigato!" ~_~
43 degree furnace
Day 1, survived. Roll on the next...
xxx
My Moroccan Adventure
Hey all,
So...it's been a while...had to deactivate the blog for a bit and clean it up (for uhh...legal reasons), which resulted in some abandonment out of sheer laziness and a desire to complete my degree. But now I'm back, and as you can probably guess, I'm currently in Morocco. A lot has happened in the year since my last public post, but for now, I'll just keep you updated on my Moroccan adventure! :)
This was kind of an on the spur of the moment thing for me, having never considered Morocco before as a holiday destination, but since it will probably be the last big trip I'll get to go on unless I end up employed (AHAHAHA), I figured it'd be good to get out of my comfort zone. That was the rationale until the day of the trip, when I decided that I was probably going to die from heatstroke and stress over whether the department was going to burn down and take my belongings with it...since I've dumped like a quarter of my inventory there on account of college being anal and not letting me leave stuff in my room for free even though no one has booked my room for the time in which I am away...
Anyway, going back to the trip. We started off with nine people, but a few days ago, two dropped out, and then, get this, #3 decided to drop out, just as our plane was about to take off! Now Ryanair is the only plane that I've flown with where the passengers applaud a successful landing, which kinda says a lot about the airline, and is probably a valid reason for adventurer #3 to bail out, but still...sucks to be without my COSMO buddy... :(
The rest of us continued onwards, minus one COSMO magazine plus an hour of delays on account of the owner of the COSMO magazine, and eventually arrived at Fes to an intense, dry heat, with still half an hour to go until sunset... Before we set off, I'd been dreading the heat, and upon landing, it felt like I'd been struck by a wall of hot air. The temperature change was so sudden, and within minutes, I knew that I was probably going to die. After my body decided it didn't want to do that, it went into self preservation mode and initiated some rapid cooldown mechanisms, allowing me to awe of the alien landscape, the waves of visible air rising upwards, and just how different the buildings were in comparison to the Western world.
Wary of potential scammers, we tentatively accepted a taxi ride for 150 DH that took us to the Riad Verus, "the best hostel in Africa"! Having not been anywhere else yet, we could hardly contest that claim. But with a website that has a youtube video showing you how to get to the hotel, this place must be pretty high up on the list of best hostels in Africa.
Nevertheless, the decor here is pretty fantastic, and very importantly, they have air con! They also provide free breakfast, and food/water which you can purchase on an ad hoc and hyper-inflated basis. Now, if you are thinking of going here, I can tell you that for payment, they accept Paypal and bank transfers, so you can save your Dirham and avoid racking up withdrawal charges. They also have a place where you can do laundry, either by machines or handwashing, and they have free Wireless too, for all of your Facebook needs.
We spent some time hanging out on the roof under a canopy of stars, eating Big Matt's bread and catching up, as it got darker and darker. Keen to explore, we also went for a walk to check out the Medina before lockdown - what I found really odd was that there were so many many men out in large groups, no women present - all the women were in their own groups with the kids. It was disconcerting, especially since they all stare at you like you have two heads, but since we had two very big guys with us, it was fine. We found a fairground, and lots of lots of food stalls but I resisted the urge to pick up anything, and eventually came back to hang out with the other travellers before bed.
Day 0.5 survived! :)
xx
So...it's been a while...had to deactivate the blog for a bit and clean it up (for uhh...legal reasons), which resulted in some abandonment out of sheer laziness and a desire to complete my degree. But now I'm back, and as you can probably guess, I'm currently in Morocco. A lot has happened in the year since my last public post, but for now, I'll just keep you updated on my Moroccan adventure! :)
This was kind of an on the spur of the moment thing for me, having never considered Morocco before as a holiday destination, but since it will probably be the last big trip I'll get to go on unless I end up employed (AHAHAHA), I figured it'd be good to get out of my comfort zone. That was the rationale until the day of the trip, when I decided that I was probably going to die from heatstroke and stress over whether the department was going to burn down and take my belongings with it...since I've dumped like a quarter of my inventory there on account of college being anal and not letting me leave stuff in my room for free even though no one has booked my room for the time in which I am away...
Anyway, going back to the trip. We started off with nine people, but a few days ago, two dropped out, and then, get this, #3 decided to drop out, just as our plane was about to take off! Now Ryanair is the only plane that I've flown with where the passengers applaud a successful landing, which kinda says a lot about the airline, and is probably a valid reason for adventurer #3 to bail out, but still...sucks to be without my COSMO buddy... :(
The rest of us continued onwards, minus one COSMO magazine plus an hour of delays on account of the owner of the COSMO magazine, and eventually arrived at Fes to an intense, dry heat, with still half an hour to go until sunset... Before we set off, I'd been dreading the heat, and upon landing, it felt like I'd been struck by a wall of hot air. The temperature change was so sudden, and within minutes, I knew that I was probably going to die. After my body decided it didn't want to do that, it went into self preservation mode and initiated some rapid cooldown mechanisms, allowing me to awe of the alien landscape, the waves of visible air rising upwards, and just how different the buildings were in comparison to the Western world.
Wary of potential scammers, we tentatively accepted a taxi ride for 150 DH that took us to the Riad Verus, "the best hostel in Africa"! Having not been anywhere else yet, we could hardly contest that claim. But with a website that has a youtube video showing you how to get to the hotel, this place must be pretty high up on the list of best hostels in Africa.
Nevertheless, the decor here is pretty fantastic, and very importantly, they have air con! They also provide free breakfast, and food/water which you can purchase on an ad hoc and hyper-inflated basis. Now, if you are thinking of going here, I can tell you that for payment, they accept Paypal and bank transfers, so you can save your Dirham and avoid racking up withdrawal charges. They also have a place where you can do laundry, either by machines or handwashing, and they have free Wireless too, for all of your Facebook needs.
We spent some time hanging out on the roof under a canopy of stars, eating Big Matt's bread and catching up, as it got darker and darker. Keen to explore, we also went for a walk to check out the Medina before lockdown - what I found really odd was that there were so many many men out in large groups, no women present - all the women were in their own groups with the kids. It was disconcerting, especially since they all stare at you like you have two heads, but since we had two very big guys with us, it was fine. We found a fairground, and lots of lots of food stalls but I resisted the urge to pick up anything, and eventually came back to hang out with the other travellers before bed.
Day 0.5 survived! :)
xx
Thursday, June 9, 2011
To Do List
Things to do once exams are over in fifteen hours:
- Get lashed - champagne reception
- Ceremonial burning of notes to symbolise the end of Part II Tripos
- Say thank you to supervisors for putting up with my various incompetencies over the year
- Retail therapy to ease the trauma of the last few months
- Make my memory scrapbook - remind Harald that drawing penises everywhere in it is not acceptable
- Draw lots of nice pictures
- Pen some nice escapist stories
- Write that song that is hastily scribbled at the back of my Foundations of Organic Synthesis notebook
- Set up a proof-reading website
- Go punting
- Look for the alpacas near the Cavendish
- Learn how to program like a boss
- Learn how to diabolo like a G6
- Learn how to play croquet like a...
- Play and win at lots of Jungle Speed
- Soul Calibur II
- Get good at pool - ANGLES
- Go paintballing/theme park
- Cook lots - dumplings, dim sum, sushi, you name it...
- Play poker
- Hit Cindies and that new club at least once this semester
- Youtube drinking game
- Karaoke nights :D
- Go swimming until I am at a socially acceptable level of not being able to drown
- Gym every day:
- Erg time of 2 min 10 split
- Squat the weight of a small anorexic child
- Deadlift the weight of a small anorexic adult
- Bench more than the bar
- Watch Snog, Marry, Avoid and all those other mind-numbing shows like Paris Hilton's BFF until my brain turns to mush
- Watch the shockingly bad horror movie Tamara
- Read some young adult novels about Important Topics in life like romance in an American high school setting
- Reminisce about the heady Part II days when all I had to worry about was the benzaldehyde that ended up in my mouth, and other such trivial things
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Kitchen Adventures #1 ~ Chilli Con Carne
Why don’t men cook at home?
No one’s invented a steak that will fit in the toaster.
…AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.
Ahem.
This is in no way meant to be a cooking blog, but as someone who takes photos of every single meal that she makes, I thought I’d write about my more successful incarnations. And so here we have the great chilli con carne:
It may look like I took a photo of this in hall, but if you look carefully, you can see that although the tray and the glass may have been *acquired* from hall, the cutlery certainly is not! And also, there lies my trusty RSC 2009. Now who takes a pen to hall?!
I was going to post a series of photos of my chilli con carne through the ages, but it looks like I didn’t take that many at all, and if you think I am sad enough to go trawling through my Facebook photo history for said elusive photos then you are mistaken – I only went as far back as Easter 2010: Part I before giving up.
On reflection, the last time I made this dish was sometime last term, and it must have tasted good enough to steal…because it did get stolen. I think I’ve almost recovered from that trauma (in which I missed my very important lectures to sit and stare at the wall for a few hours in rage) so I feel that it would be somewhat therapeutic to share. After all, sharing is caring. And revealing is healing.
Ingredients:
Minced beef
1-2 Onions
Clove of garlic
6 Tomatoes (or a large tin of tomatoes in sauce)
Red or green pepper
215g tin of kidney beans in chilli sauce (important, otherwise you have to make your own chilli sauce!)
Chopped Chilli (optional)
White wine (optional)
Salt
Black pepper
Chilli powder
Rice
Recipe:
1. Chop the onions and garlic into small pieces and fry them until slightly brown.
2. Add the beef; season with salt and pepper and fry until cooked. I tend to use a third or half of a 500g pack. Normally it’s enough to last me for two meals!
3. Chop up the pepper and chuck that in, along with the tomatoes and the kidney beans.
4. Pour in half a cup of white wine – I didn’t use white wine in any of my other attempts, and must say that the wine does bring a new level to the flavour. If you don’t want to use alcohol, half a cup of water will do.
5. Add chilli powder or chopped up chilli at your discretion.
6. Let the mysterious mush simmer for fifteen to twenty minutes, or longer, if possible – the longer you cook this, the more flavour will seep into the beef.
7. Once the sauce has reduced to your satisfaction, serve with rice!
If you don’t have the chilli sauce then you can either buy pre-made sauce, or make your own from a combination of: tomato puree, water, sugar, chilli powder, paprika, salt, cumin, garlic powder, black pepper, coriander, oregano, onion powder, basil, and thyme...as it says on the back of my tin of kidney beans in chilli sauce. So yeah, buy the kidney beans in chilli sauce. From Tesco.
Finally, you may notice that I haven’t been very specific with the quantities of ingredients used – that’s because I tend to make it up on the spot so have never actually taken note of the ratios. This may or may not be a good thing...I’ll leave this up to you to decide.
Enjoy! ^_^
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Lies My ‘Friends’ Told Me #2
That when you are going in for a job interview, you can’t ever show your back to the interviewer. Even when leaving the room. You have to maintain eye contact all the time.
Following on from the corporate theme, I was told this pearl of ‘wisdom’ sometime last term during my job application phase when I would freak out on a daily basis and run to various people for advice. Being in a vulnerable state of panic at the time, I drank in everything that I was told – not once did I question any bit of advice I received. After all, these were people who already had job offers, right? Of course they held some secret elixir of knowledge, some golden key that would unlock the gates of employment-dom for me. Uhm, yeah. About that…
Once again, I fell for it: hook, line and sinker. I even went so far as to try it out in front of them – got more than stuck when attempting to leave the room though. Fumbling around for the door handle with your back to the door and desperately trying to maintain eye-contact would make any normal person realise that you were being had, but no, not I – I still didn’t realise, until they burst out laughing. Yup. There was a reason why I hadn’t come across this piece of advice anywhere on the Internets and now I know why.
*facepalm*
I don’t even think that there needs to be a moral to this story.
Following on from the corporate theme, I was told this pearl of ‘wisdom’ sometime last term during my job application phase when I would freak out on a daily basis and run to various people for advice. Being in a vulnerable state of panic at the time, I drank in everything that I was told – not once did I question any bit of advice I received. After all, these were people who already had job offers, right? Of course they held some secret elixir of knowledge, some golden key that would unlock the gates of employment-dom for me. Uhm, yeah. About that…Once again, I fell for it: hook, line and sinker. I even went so far as to try it out in front of them – got more than stuck when attempting to leave the room though. Fumbling around for the door handle with your back to the door and desperately trying to maintain eye-contact would make any normal person realise that you were being had, but no, not I – I still didn’t realise, until they burst out laughing. Yup. There was a reason why I hadn’t come across this piece of advice anywhere on the Internets and now I know why.
*facepalm*
I don’t even think that there needs to be a moral to this story.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Unilever Assessment Centre (Summer Internship)
Here’s a quick summary of what I experienced at the Unilever Assessment Centre for a summer internship in Research and Development:
Optional Lunch
If you are given the chance to sign up for the optional lunch, do it! You’ll get there early, have a chance to settle in, and you’ll be looked after by someone on the graduate scheme. You may even get to meet other applicants, and I found that to be one of the key factors as to why I was much less scared – I was really lucky and got on really well with the other applicants on the day, which made such a huge difference to my attitude. I contrast this to the time at my ASDA assessment centre where I turned up ten minutes later and had no rapport with any of the other applicants. Horrible day.
Case Study and Presentation
You are set a business related scenario, and get given a big handout full of data which you need to analyse in forty five minutes. I was asked to make three decisions based upon how a newly acquired company should be run and to give an eight minute long presentation, which would be followed by twelve minutes of questions and answers. Criticism I received from this was that I focused too much upon the opinions of customers and not enough upon the facts and figures.
Competency Interview
Standard forty five minute long joint with one other assessor. You are asked why Unilever, and then five competencies that are assessed via the STAR method. Make sure all of your answers conform to this: Situation, Task, Action, Result! Went in having done next to no research on Unilever, other than knowing the names of a few of the products, and the fact that they’d recently been involved in a price-fixing cartel so that ruled out ‘reputation’ as a possible answer I could give. Advice: research your chosen business function, and get in key words like ‘consumer need’ and ‘product development’. Luckily for me my interviewer was really nice (or that they were really desperate for interns), for I had to be spoon-fed all of this during my interview… >__<
Group Exercise
Standard forty five minute long exercise. If you’ve done one of these then you’ve done them all. We were given a set amount of time to read through some information before being assessed for twenty minutes on how we solved a problem together. This was the one that I enjoyed the most because I’d already gotten to know the other applicants really well, so it just felt like more banter, and as I was so relaxed, it was easy to forget the presence of the assessors in the room. Feedback from this was that apparently I led (I led?!) the discussion, keeping everything on focus and that I made some very good points. Hunh…
My Advice:
1. Make sure you know the key competencies that Unilever are looking for2. Turn up early!!!3. Try to get to know the other applicants beforehand - this will make you feel more relaxed if you can establish rapport with them4. Drink lots of water throughout the day5. If they offer you free Ben and Jerry’s, take it!6. Take your time with your answers.
Finally, good luck!!
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Going Corporate
HR lady: You’ve got the internship!!!
Me: Omigaarghghghggghhhh!!!
Not gonna lie, I’m not the most career-orientated (or study-focused for that matter) person you’ll find lying around. I’d much rather be writing, drawing, or frolicking under the sunshine i.e. I never ever want to grow up (Peter Pan Complex). Sadly, the laws of nature dictate otherwise, and after being told by friends and family for two and a half years to get off my lazy ass and find a job, I finally decided to pull my act together. So this year, I made a half-hearted attempt to shoot off some apps and quickly learned that I’m probably not investment banking material. Much to my simultaneous amusement and horror, I also learned that Sainsbury’s, ASDA and Morrison’s don’t want me either.
Me: Omigaarghghghggghhhh!!!
I’ve actually known about this since last Friday, but kept quiet about it because I wanted to personally thank the four friends who’ve supported me throughout this entire job hunting ordeal: shout out to the two members of Drop Table Artists, to Claud and to Agent Double T. Couldn’t have done it without you!
Not gonna lie, I’m not the most career-orientated (
What the hell are these people looking for?! I cried out in despair.
There was still one company that I had hope for: Unilever. After putting off a telephone interview for a month, I received a few ‘if-you-don’t-sign-up-for-an-interview-NOW-then-we’re-dropping-you’ emails and decided to give up the avoidance act, man up and just go for it. Apparently, I sounded like a high schooler giving a presentation, according to a Belgian who overheard my interview whilst walking past my room. High school retard or not, it turned out that they liked me (why!?) and decided to invite me down to their assessment centre. Joyous!? I think not, said the stress-head in me.
On the day itself, a series of personal disasters led to me becoming so stressed out that I turned somewhat hysterical on the train – to the point where I would burst out laughing every few seconds, as my message outbox can testify. The other people on the train must’ve thought I’d gone insane. By the time I arrived, I was in the mental state where I couldn’t take anything seriously anymore – which actually turned out to be a good thing.
In the end, there were only three of us being assessed on the day (one girl didn’t show up). I quickly discovered that our gathering consisted of a mini Leeds Fest down south, what with one of the other applicants being from Leeds, and the graduate who was looking after us too. Never had I been so joyous to hear my local accent being uttered.
Now, for anyone who is thinking of applying for the Unilever summer internships, there is very little in the way of help on Wikijobs, so I’ve made a separate post here with a brief breakdown of my day and what I feel are the best bits of advice I can give you.
Things I have learned from this day:
1. The benefits of turning up early to events2. Make the most out of optional lunches and drink lots of water all day3. Don’t ignore the data when they give you data to analyse!!!4. If someone is speaking really slowly and winking at you during an interview, it means that they are probably trying to give you a hint5. If you’re applying for Research and Development, you won’t be assessed on how good you are at your degree (yaaaay)6. Maybe I’m not such a failure after all!
Went home for the weekend for some personal time, and on the way back to Cam, I met a guy who gave me two hours worth of life coaching – he made me remember that my self-esteem was not always this crappy and that there is a world outside of this little sandbox. Always good to keep things in perspective.
One of the little pearls he imparted:
Oh, and remember my last posts about my little wasp infestation? Well, they’re back… >:|F - falseE - entityA - appearingR - real
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Lies My ‘Friends’ Told Me #1
That if you sit on a chair and pull upwards on the seat hard enough, then your chair will lift up off the ground.
I'll admit it right here and right now that I'm too gullible (stupid) for my own good, especially when you consider that this happened to me a few days/weeks before my Physics exam in first year. Oh how I really should have known better.
Of course I was skeptical at first i.e. translates to: didn't believe this bullcrap.
But, my two dear friends were very persistent and persuasive, so being the nervous wreck that I was at the time, it did not take long for them to screw over my mind and have me doubting the very foundations of Physics. Perhaps I wanted to believe that I could fly, the poor naive fool that I was (still am). I can still remember the exact second I broke - it was after they'd finished talking about world records when they started making up force diagrams; that was when I put my hands up in the air, backed away and admitted defeat. "Woah, OK, OK." After all, these were Cambridge students taking Maths and Physics, two of them versus a person who hadn't done Physics since those GCSE Triple Award days and didn't know what the hell a transistor was (much to the irritation of my lab partner Tiiiing ^_^:;). Much cleverer than me, right? What the hell am I doing at Cambridge?!
Suffice to say I did not do so well at Physics.
The moral of the story is: no, you can't fly like a G6 and not even force diagrams have the power to make you that fly.
Of course I was skeptical at first i.e. translates to: didn't believe this bullcrap.
But, my two dear friends were very persistent and persuasive, so being the nervous wreck that I was at the time, it did not take long for them to screw over my mind and have me doubting the very foundations of Physics. Perhaps I wanted to believe that I could fly, the poor naive fool that I was (
Suffice to say I did not do so well at Physics.
The moral of the story is: no, you can't fly like a G6 and not even force diagrams have the power to make you that fly.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
The Wasps Must Die.
Since I started working (learning, procrastinating, stressing) next to my window, I've noticed something: insects seem to really like hanging out here. Whether it's throwing themselves against the glass, or going round and round in little circles, there's always at least one Insect Incident every three minutes. Yes, I have been counting (blame it on my revision stopwatch), and no, I do not know why they do this. Especially wasps. Before I realised that my window was the equivalent of an ASBO-philic street corner, I thought I was going crazy.
I'd hear a buzzing sound, look up, and see...a pigeon staring at me from the leafy branches of a tree, i.e. absolutely nothing. Much to my bewilderment, this would continue for a few hours every day. Was it the exam stress that was making me go insane? I even started talking to myself. And then, one very recent day, I finally spotted the culprits: the wasp! And to my horror, it was not just one wasp, but TWO, emerging from my window frame to go forage for stuff before returning!
It dawned upon me that these wasps were attempting to nest in MY window. NononoNO, this could not do, I thought. It's not acceptable for there to be any extra tenants in my room unless they are of the homo sapiens variety, so in classic Luo fashion, I decided to ask Facebook for help:
Let's have a quick look at the responses, shall we?
1. Unicorns!
I'm not quite sure that my friend has grasped the fact that unicorns are mythological for a reason. Moving on...
2. Get a bunch of these mofos and swarm the mothefucker
MOAR BEEEES?!?! Sadly, this is not the most practical method with my limited resources.
3. wasp and fly killer, or deodorant
The most sensible one so far: thanks Agent Double T.
4. Vacuum cleaner is the best way.
Hmm. Trying to explain why I'm waving a vacuum nozzle out of my window sounds like a good test of my sanity.
5. surely lynx/lighter
This was also suggested by my brother. People seem to like this idea: "that doesn't set off fire alarms actually, that's some good shit"
6. chopstick an wok, belly tastee!!
Orly? I hope this person wasn't implying that I stir fry and then consume the wasp with rice.
7. Set the room on fire.
...fire seems to be a very popular theme here... O_o
In the end, I waited until the wasps left the hole in my window frame and then proceeded to slam my window shut. As summer is fast approaching, I realise that this is a very short term strategy. The wasps seem to know this because after throwing themselves against the glass for a little while in a fit of rage, they buzz off elsewhere and then return when I can't take it any longer and open the window again.
Could they be smarter than crows?
I know they're watching me...
And nowadays, I keep on hearing the buzzing...
Even when they're not there.
*shudder*
On a side note, I have a job interview tomorrow which I'm supposed to be preparing for so I don't know why I'm writing this. Also going home for the weekend, so no updates for the next few days. Happy 22nd to the 25th of April, folks!
I'd hear a buzzing sound, look up, and see...a pigeon staring at me from the leafy branches of a tree, i.e. absolutely nothing. Much to my bewilderment, this would continue for a few hours every day. Was it the exam stress that was making me go insane? I even started talking to myself. And then, one very recent day, I finally spotted the culprits: the wasp! And to my horror, it was not just one wasp, but TWO, emerging from my window frame to go forage for stuff before returning!
It dawned upon me that these wasps were attempting to nest in MY window. NononoNO, this could not do, I thought. It's not acceptable for there to be any extra tenants in my room unless they are of the homo sapiens variety, so in classic Luo fashion, I decided to ask Facebook for help:
~ creative methods for getting rid of the pair of wasps that are attempting to nest in my window, anyone?
Yesterday at 18:43
Let's have a quick look at the responses, shall we?
1. Unicorns!
2. Get a bunch of these mofos and swarm the mothefucker
3. wasp and fly killer, or deodorant
4. Vacuum cleaner is the best way.
5. surely lynx/lighter
6. chopstick an wok, belly tastee!!
7. Set the room on fire.
In the end, I waited until the wasps left the hole in my window frame and then proceeded to slam my window shut. As summer is fast approaching, I realise that this is a very short term strategy. The wasps seem to know this because after throwing themselves against the glass for a little while in a fit of rage, they buzz off elsewhere and then return when I can't take it any longer and open the window again.
Could they be smarter than crows?
I know they're watching me...
And nowadays, I keep on hearing the buzzing...
Even when they're not there.
*shudder*
On a side note, I have a job interview tomorrow which I'm supposed to be preparing for so I don't know why I'm writing this. Also going home for the weekend, so no updates for the next few days. Happy 22nd to the 25th of April, folks!
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Into the Deep End...
I've always hated swimming. 95% of the reason was because I didn't know how to; the other 5% lay in the nasty smell of chlorine that clings to your skin for days. Oh, and there was also the matter of hygiene. Verrucas. People taking a sly widdle. Swallowing a mouthful of said sly widdle. But at the end of the day, I knew that not being able to swim is a pretty loser-ish (not to mention embarassing) status to bear in life. After all, basic life skills and all that? I knew that, yet...
Growing up, my primary school would take us to the local pool every Wednesday, and I would just watch as one by one, my classmates left the baby pool for the Big Bad Pool on The Other Side. Don't get me wrong, of course I'd try, but it was a combination of bad teaching, a lack of confidence, and a fear of drowning that led to me 'graduating' from swimming lessons with a big fat zero. Not even a fucking Dolphin One Award.
Naturally my phobia escalated, and with these memories at hand, I went through the next ten years of my life avoiding contact with water unless it was: in a bath, in the rain, or occasionally in a large bed of H20 with a water-aid in the form of a float. Hydrophobe? I think: yes. But it wasn't a complete No-Man's-Land; something must've gotten through to my brain, for I had residual memories of knowing how to do the breast stroke, mushroom float, and how-not-to-drown-when-lying-on-my-back. Latent memories, things that do stick for life like learning to ride a bike no-handed and look like a complete and utter prat whilst doing so.
With this background in mind, on the 8th April, I finally decided to quick being such a pathetic loser and learn some life skills. It was that, or revision. And in my mind, any form of useful procrastination was better than revising. So, that afternoon, Claud and I took to the waters of Parkside Pools: me scared out of my wits and feeling completely and utterly insecure at just how damn exposing a swimsuit can be. It was OK, I quickly learned that no one gave a crap.
In the first session, with the everlasting patience of Claud, I learnt the proper technique for breast stroke, and my humiliation at being crapper than the children half my age there gave me the resolve to NOT go for one of the damn floaty things. After a bit of faffing around, Claud convinced me to go to the forbidden zone i.e. the Deep End, the One Terror that I had managed to avoid for the duration of my entire existence. Not gonna lie, I was shit scared. But like a ray of guiding light, Claud took my hand and literally (yes, literally) led me to the deep end and made me go down to the bottom to try to get over my fear. Yes, it was as deep as I'd thought it was. Yes, I thought I was going to die. But...I didn't. And surprisingly, it was OK. I also learnt how to tread water, and left the pool in ecstatics at having braved the One Terror. Next stop: attempting a length.
That happened a week later, and this time, I swam TWO WHOLE LENGTHS, learned that it was OK to put my head underwater whilst swimming, and treaded water as if there was going to be a tomorrow. Hallelujah and all that jazz. We celebrated by getting Chinese takeout and updating my Facebook status with an edited lyric from The Lonely Island's song entitled I Just Had Sex:
(guess that counteracted my one small step away from loser-dom)
Today though, was the big big day in which I completely got into the game. I came into the pool determined to do five lengths, and with the encouragement of a stranger from Catz, managed to swim TWENTY WHOLE LENGTHS.
Oh.
My.
Days.
I could not (and still can't) believe how far I've come in just three sessions. Gives me so much hope in my degree; that if I do apply my mind then I can actually achieve results. Maybe there is still hope for me yet as a Nat Sci...!
Growing up, my primary school would take us to the local pool every Wednesday, and I would just watch as one by one, my classmates left the baby pool for the Big Bad Pool on The Other Side. Don't get me wrong, of course I'd try, but it was a combination of bad teaching, a lack of confidence, and a fear of drowning that led to me 'graduating' from swimming lessons with a big fat zero. Not even a fucking Dolphin One Award.
Naturally my phobia escalated, and with these memories at hand, I went through the next ten years of my life avoiding contact with water unless it was: in a bath, in the rain, or occasionally in a large bed of H20 with a water-aid in the form of a float. Hydrophobe? I think: yes. But it wasn't a complete No-Man's-Land; something must've gotten through to my brain, for I had residual memories of knowing how to do the breast stroke, mushroom float, and how-not-to-drown-when-lying-on-my-back. Latent memories, things that do stick for life like learning to ride a bike no-handed and look like a complete and utter prat whilst doing so.
With this background in mind, on the 8th April, I finally decided to quick being such a pathetic loser and learn some life skills. It was that, or revision. And in my mind, any form of useful procrastination was better than revising. So, that afternoon, Claud and I took to the waters of Parkside Pools: me scared out of my wits and feeling completely and utterly insecure at just how damn exposing a swimsuit can be. It was OK, I quickly learned that no one gave a crap.
In the first session, with the everlasting patience of Claud, I learnt the proper technique for breast stroke, and my humiliation at being crapper than the children half my age there gave me the resolve to NOT go for one of the damn floaty things. After a bit of faffing around, Claud convinced me to go to the forbidden zone i.e. the Deep End, the One Terror that I had managed to avoid for the duration of my entire existence. Not gonna lie, I was shit scared. But like a ray of guiding light, Claud took my hand and literally (yes, literally) led me to the deep end and made me go down to the bottom to try to get over my fear. Yes, it was as deep as I'd thought it was. Yes, I thought I was going to die. But...I didn't. And surprisingly, it was OK. I also learnt how to tread water, and left the pool in ecstatics at having braved the One Terror. Next stop: attempting a length.
That happened a week later, and this time, I swam TWO WHOLE LENGTHS, learned that it was OK to put my head underwater whilst swimming, and treaded water as if there was going to be a tomorrow. Hallelujah and all that jazz. We celebrated by getting Chinese takeout and updating my Facebook status with an edited lyric from The Lonely Island's song entitled I Just Had Sex:
~ ♫ i just swam a length (for the first time ever), and it fe-elt so gooood (felt so good) ♪ ♫
15 April at 22:27
(guess that counteracted my one small step away from loser-dom)
Today though, was the big big day in which I completely got into the game. I came into the pool determined to do five lengths, and with the encouragement of a stranger from Catz, managed to swim TWENTY WHOLE LENGTHS.
Oh.
My.
Days.
I could not (and still can't) believe how far I've come in just three sessions. Gives me so much hope in my degree; that if I do apply my mind then I can actually achieve results. Maybe there is still hope for me yet as a Nat Sci...!
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Anti-Monopoly!
So, at the end of last term, someone suggested a game of Monopoly and I agreed because I thought it would be a nice and relaxing thing to do to wind down at the end of term. Civilised, even. Perhaps at home yes, with my gentle Asian brethren, but here in Cambridge?! How naïve.
I knew I’d lost when I realised that the rules I’d been playing for life turned out to be not quite correct: that if you land on something you have to buy it otherwise it goes out for auction to everyone else, whereas I’d grown up playing a rule where only you can choose to buy or not if you land. Oh dear. So my whole strategy (or lack thereof) turned out to be a grade A fail in Management Operations.
My one and only property for a looong time. Time to turn on the Waterworks... *sniff*
I knew I’d lost when I realised that the rules I’d been playing for life turned out to be not quite correct: that if you land on something you have to buy it otherwise it goes out for auction to everyone else, whereas I’d grown up playing a rule where only you can choose to buy or not if you land. Oh dear. So my whole strategy (
My one and only property for a looong time. Time to turn on the Waterworks... *sniff*
After a stroke of luck, the scene was dominated by a civil partnership between Belgium and Australia, who proved to be merciless and were absolutely barbaric when bankrupting the other players ~ i.e. the shoe and the horse. If only there had been more of the customary cheating that comes with every game, but being Cambridge students, you can imagine that it was a pretty straight-laced affair...although many many glares were exchanged in the crossfire.
Anyway, long introductory ramble over. So, whilst almost everyone has heard of Monopoly, I wonder how many of you have heard of the board game: Anti-Monopoly. Which is exactly what it claims to be.
And how might one go about playing this game? Well, for a start, there are two sets of rules and you get to choose which set you wish to play for the duration of the game ~ as a competitor or as a monopolist. Competitors are allowed to build houses as soon as they own a single street and charge low prices for rent, whilst monopolists have to wait until they own a whole street before building houses which come to extortionate prices for rent. Basically, here the good guys are the competitors, whilst the bad guys are the monopolists. In the real world, monopolists would crush competitors, so a system has been implemented to ensure that the game is more or less fair.
Now this gem has been out since 1974, and with its successful release came a storm of controversy, including legal threats and a decade long court battle between General Mills (the owners of Monopoly) and Anti-Monopoly. According to the Anti-Monopoly website:
It informed Anti-Monopoly that it had exclusive rights to the dictionary word monopoly and any title remotely close to it, including its opposite, the dictionary word “anti-monopoly.” General Mills went on rather bluntly that if we didn't take our game off the market at once, it would crush us. And they were serious. For example, they had already stopped Catholic laymen from marketing a game called Theopoly and a famous black comedian, Geoffrey Chambers, from marketing Black Monopoly.
After seeing this on sale in a niche alternative store ~ you know, those ones that are springing up everywhere now ~ I remembered being intrigued but thought no more of it, and it was only when I was watching myself get destroyed on the Monopoly game board that I remembered the existence of Anti-Monopoly. And that no one had believed me whenever I’d tried to rave about it. So maybe you will now after reading this blog post and seeing the evidence before your eyes!! Upon realising that I don’t have what it takes to be a monopolist, perhaps it’s time to check out this game and see if I fare any better as a competitor...!! I think not, will be the case.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Poker Face - Drop Table Artists (Cover)
Look at Harry's face! ^_^
Jokes. So they finally made it onto Internet TV huh? Well, what can I say? Been friends with these guys ever since the 'What I Want To Be When I Grow Up' bop of Fresher's Week when one of them turned up in a home-made Pokemon master costume that got upstaged when someone showed up in a real life Pokemon master costume. Complete with Pokeball. But you had to hand it to Harry for effort. After all, who would've guessed that the clementine he was holding was meant to be a Pokeball? Don't really remember much of Harald, other than that he was the 'tall white guy' standing next to the Pokemon master.
Jokes again. Anyway, ever since we became friends, I've watched them continually evolve upwards (
Anyway, more about this song. Guess it's kind of a special one for them, for it seems as if they can't stop playing Poker Face (
I won't tell you that I love you
Kiss or hug you
Cause I'm bluffin' with my muffin
I'm not lying I'm just stunnin'
With my love-glue-gunning
Just like a chick in the casino
Take your bank before I pay you out
I promise this, promise this
Check this hand cause I'm marvelous
Guys, if you're reading this entry ~ I know you are ~ then I'm gonna throw this one out: you need more stage presence!! And you need to quit looking so serious, even on video when no one is watching you live!!!
Now this is supposed to be a serious entry, but I think I've failed miserably here, hehe.
Anyways, if you're around in Cambridge at all, then keep an eye out for this pair of jokers ~ they'll be playing at the Wolfson June Event this May Week, so if you fancy shelling out more cash than you'd pay for a Muse concert, then come along and support these fine specimens of humanity.
Sadly, I know I will be there.
(x-posted to my music blog, betterinbass)
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