Positano Thinking

Positano Thinking

Close Your Eyes and Imagine.

Nothing matters. Life is in its element of perfection. You are about to partake in the biggest adventure of your life. You, the solo wanderer is going to Europe.

You are going delirious at Sydney airport being shuffled through customs; the sheep-like movements lull you into a daze.

You close your eyes and imagine yourself in Positano, Italy on a balcony staring at the colourful buildings overlooking the tranquil water as the sun makes its final bow. The warm breeze tickles your skin and a smell of freshly cooked pasta fills the air making your tummy grumble in delight. You hear a voice. You turn around and see a silhouette of a person seductively beckoning you…

You open your eyes and you realize that no, it is not your gorgeous Italian lover, but rather you have just been staring off into space for 20 minutes at a sweaty middle-aged customs man fairly creepily.

You quickly fix yourself up and wipe the saliva off your chin, trying to pretend he isn’t trying to crack onto you with dancing eyebrows.

Drowning in bodies you quickly hand over your passport and your boarding pass. This is it. You can’t turn back. The noise of the crowd engulfs you as you find your plane and board.

You feel the wind changes as you can feel your eyes slowly shutting.

You imagine that you are in an underwater abyss scuba diving in Austria’s Hochschwab Mountains. The palms of your hands are flat as you spread your fingers to feel the every swish of water, as you swim along the underwater bridge. The soft water’s current, merely a whisper spoken by mother earth rolls through the submerged phenomenon.

And there you are. Alone. Witnessing the greatest of nature’s gifts.

Traveling and exploring.

This is freedom.

The serenity hypnotizes your senses and before you know it, you wake up and are seated in the plane, flying to your first destination.

You think to yourself – “damn those sleeping tablets are strong” – but come to understand that your every dream is about to become a reality. That your life is now beginning at the end of your comfort zone and the only person standing in your way of achieving your every desire is you.

The Real Cost of My Last Apple Pie

Sorry for posting three blogs at once, I finally have WiFi!

So the funniest thing happened to me yesterday.

I flew from Copenhagen to Amsterdam to spend my last night in Utrecht with Arte and her roomies Job, Niek and Niek 2 (who I didn’t meet till last night). They are such a cool bunch of people, over the course of my trip they taught me a lot and they gave me the full dutchey experience, which I really appreciate. I think having a local experience rather than a touristy one is a thousand times better, you really get a feel for the city and country you are in. 

As I got off the train, I headed to the blue supermarket. (I cannot pronounce it or remember how it is spelt) With my last euros I bought an apple pie and a train ticket. In this transaction of buying my apple pie I must have dropped my ticket. So here is innocent me, sitting in first class because, well, why not! Its my last night in Europe and I had apple pie… life was good! Until the ticket police came.

In a panic I realized that I had lost my ticket. He told me that I had two options either be fined 35 euros plus the cost of the ticket or pay for a ticket now. Freaking out I explained that I was a broke backpacker and it was my last night before I headed back home to Australia. To prove to him how broke I was I emptied out my wallet that consisted of literally a thousand 10-cent coins that calculated to 7.50 euros. The ticket cost 9 euros. If I didn’t buy my apple pie I wouldn’t have lost my ticket, and even if I did lose it I could have had enough to pay for a second ticket. The apple pie was so worth it!

The ticket police ended up escorting me off the train to the ticket machine to give over my 7.50… this is something that would only happen to me, on my last day! Just my luck.

As we were walking we were chatting about my trip, I was desperate, I even offered some of my sacred apple pie as a final bribe not to fine me (which thank gord he declined because I had been craving the pie for my whole Copenhagen trip and wanted it all to myself). He asked me how I was going to remember all my stories and my trip so I excitingly told him that I had a blog, which has been kind of like my diary. To my surprise, he loves reading blogs!

I now have a new follower on blogger and twitter and I got to keep my 7.50 euros.

What a great guy!

Beautifully Exposed

To feel beautiful naked I think is a truly remarkable thing. To feel so comfortable in your own skin that you don't care who sees you nude can only be found in people who are truly happy and at peace within themselves.. or European. Seriously. I think nudity and being naked in public places is very accepted in Europe, I say this for two reasons. First reason is that in my hostel in Copenhagen I had to walk stark naked from the changing room to the shower, even though it was an all girls bathroom I felt highly uncomfortable doing this. I tried to take a towel to cover me to the shower and hang it above the curtain but I found out the hard way that they towel just gets drenched. Freaking out and not knowing what to do I would only have a shower when no one else was in there or if there was someone I would cover all my bits and do a quick dash. 

I don't know if I felt so uncomfortable because I don't like the sight of myself naked or if it is because I was brought up in a conservative family. 
My second reason is when we went to the beach there were nudists and families all in the same small space. I saw women of all ages rocking up to the beach fully clothed, then got naked to put on their swimmers. I now have seen way to much old man penis and old women's boobs for my liking however I couldn't help but feel jealous that they were so confident in themselves to be able to just strip off like that. 

Porn and the media puts so much pressure on young women having what the media considers the 'perfect body'. Big boobs, a Beyonce arse, curvy hips and long legs with no bumps or dimples, this along with a glowing tan and long hair. It is so hard to think of my body as beautiful as I am a cup size A and quite petite. A lot of women hate their bodies because it is impossible for them to look like this perfect image the media thrusts in societies faces and it is sad that I and so many other women feel this way. That we are embarrassed of our flaws and stretch marks. To look at these women who weren't Victoria Secret models who were actually normal everyday women was, in a way, nice, not in a sexual way but in a wow way. Wow these women love their bodies and aren't ashamed of showing it.  

Despite all this nudity, the picnic at the beach with Ash and Grant was so nice, it was so good to finally just stop walking and take in the scenery, to pause and reflect on my trip and on the beauty of Denmark.

Back to food, the pastries and the food that I could afford was simply divine. Everywhere I have been in Europe has been incredible food and Copenhagen did not disappoint. The cheesecake, oh my goodness with my money dwindling I have put it all to good use of spending it all on delicious food. Even though I am looking forward to nice home cooked meals, I am going to miss all this European food. If only eating more made you skinny and toned! 

Beautiful Copenhagen

Copenhagen. Possibly the most expensive city I have ever been to. Equivalent to $6 for a small bottle of water, it really was a struggle to choose weather to eat or do activities. Leaving Amsterdam was drama after drama, I almost didn't make my flight because there was no seating available until someone cancelled last minute; then the plane was delayed by two hours as there was a gas leak from a bag in the plane. At midnight I finally got to my hostel and met up with my best friend Ashley who moved to the UK four months ago. It was so good seeing her, she now sounds British which is so strange. 

Nyhaven is absolutely breathtaking, narrow block coloured houses line both sides of the canal with tourists and locals hustling and bustling about. Ash and I being the girls we are took an hour trying to get the best photo for our Facebook and Insta... we even got three different strangers to take pictures of us. Then these Arabian men approached us and wanted to get photos with us, I think it was because we are Aussies but I am so confused as to why they wanted photos with us, I mean, there were so many beautiful, tall, naturally tanned and white blonde Danish girls all around us. I am so jealous of Scandinavian women, summer in northern Europe isn't what us Aussies know as summer. It is still cold, I was wearing what I wear in winter at home, a pair of jeans, boots and a thick jacket - and here are these gorgeous Scandinavian women who rarely see the sun and they are tanner than I am. SO unfair. SO jealous. Can't wait to fake tan when I get home, at least I can pretend to be naturally tanned.

Alternative Christiana is the shadiest place I have ever been to, drugs are illegal in Denmark but the police turn a blind eye to this little hippie convent they call the 'Green Light District'. The thugs who sell the the drugs all wear balaclavas and are all hidden in camouflaged shacks with a little opening where they can had you the drugs. There are signs everywhere saying that they will smash your phone or camera if you take pictures however this didn't stop me from taking a few sneaky ones which I won't post online. Apart from the drugs there is really cool street art covering the buildings and bohemian markets selling homemade jewellery and little knick knacks. Seriously so wrecked from all this walking! Even though I am eating my way through Europe I certainly am putting on the kilos. 

Through the Red Light

In Amsterdams notorious red light district women stand in large windows that touch the streets, red seductive lights line the top of the window highlighting the women who flaunt their corsets and lacy underwear. Walking passed, I couldn't help but stare into the womens' eyes - some were glazed, others were lost, some had a certain fire to them, all were eager to grab the attention of men. When the attention was caught the window would open and a man or multiple men would bargain their price and enter, the red curtain would close and the act would commence. This is how these women live, in dirty little rooms occupied by different men every night. This is how they made their money, some chose this life others were forced into it.
Prostitution is legal in the Netherlands however in a lot of cases women with the hope of becoming professional dancers leave their home under false pretences, however, when they got to Amsterdam they found it to be a different reality. I became aware of this when I visited the prostitute museum, there was a story about Anna, a Polish woman who was bought in Amsterdam. She has worked for seven years and has had around 25,000 customers all together she has earned one million euros however her 'lover boy' or 'pimp' stole it all. After four years he was arrested for trafficking but she still chooses to work in prostitution because she can't get into other work.
There are 5000 female and 3000 male prostitutes in Amsterdam, all with stories of being either trafficked and forced or are doing it because its great money and they are saving up for bigger and better things. For instance, another woman Eva has saved up enough money to pay for her law studies at university and will start working for a law firm in two years.
I would like to interview one of these women to understand their situation however when I tried I was pushed away.
The sex shows are a different experience, its basically watching live porn with audience interaction. It was so interesting going to two shows as a woman and watching the men get really exited, especially the older men. The sex looks terrible and the 'actors' and 'actresses' are really not into it, they are just doing what they need to do in order to get paid. As we were sitting right up the front we could here them having conversations about their day and random stuff while they were pounding away at each other. It was kinda funny though and the dancing was enjoyable especially when there are drinks and other substances involved.

Both were great experiences in really understanding different walks of life, and I really recommend people going to Amsterdam not only to see the red light district but also because it is a very beautiful city. The canals are gorgeous and run all through the city, vintage gass lights with flowers line the canals and the tall, narrow leaning buildings create this ambiance of electric energy. These last three days have been non stop, Grant and I have walked everywhere, seen some incredible things and tasted even better food. The different cultural food provided here is spectacular, especially late at night after drinking all day, the food is so good! Chips with mayo and Peppisaus I never thought would taste so delicious. Argentinian steak houses are to die for. There are pancakes and sweet shops everywhere, its so good! I really am becoming a foodie, I just love tasting the difference in foods compared to Australia, at the moment for me personally, food, shopping and culture is a thousand times better than home. Just with service and quality of products and food amazes me. 

I really love Amsterdam, however I still think Utrecht is my favourite Dutch town. 

Seven Years Apart

After a few cocktails I did gain that confidence and met a really cool guy who was staying in my dorm, he works for the BBC as a wildlife photographer, it was so interesting and inspiring to listen to his stories about travelling and having a career that he not only loved but also was passionate about. I am hoping to stay in contact with him and interview him about his different adventures but it hasn’t been able to happen as of yet.

After seven years I saw my beautiful sister in Bristol, which was absolutely crazy I am going to miss her so much. Even though we didn’t grow up together it is nice that we have remained close. Suffering from FFF (Frivolous Fashion Fanatic) I once again was blinded by sales. Thank goodness Chelsea loves shopping just as much as me and was happy to window shop… at least one of us has control to not whip out the debit card. I guess I am just so amazed at the quality of clothing over here and for so cheap! Sales over here are actually sales - up to 80% off for really good quality clothing. I have never shopped at Zara until Europe and I have picked up really nice thick coats for $50 each and some gorgeous dresses for $20, at home they would have easily been $200+ each. We had a really good idea, she is such a cool strong willed young woman I am proud of her for being so strong.

When we parted ways three very good looking German men greeted me back at my dorm, lucky for me they were all tall, single and in their early 20s. As if I was going to let my nerves get the better of me! After blushing, fist pumping (in my mind not literally) and quickly checking my selfie camera hoping that I looked like transformers Megan Fox (when I’m drunk in my mind I look exactly like her… weird I know), realizing I seriously look nothing like her and seriously terrible I quickly patted down my frizzy hair and applied more BB cream all in about 20 seconds. After flashing them a massive grin I introduced myself and asked if I could tag along… thank goodness they agreed! Really cool bunch of guys, we ended up exploring Bristol a bit more and having bit to much to drink at an 80s club. The music was absolutely woeful 80s music, none of the music I bust moves to when mum and I are in the kitchen but we had a laugh and a really good night. They were telling me about Germany and the towns they live in. They are car enthusiasts and were telling me about the Auto Barn – a stretch of road that you can travel as fast as you want on it, they were explaining how the fastest they have gone is 300km/h… this simply does not make sense in my mind. I drive at 130km/h and think I’m ruthless fast and furious speed queen… and they go 300… What. The. Hell.

The next day I travelled an hour north to a small village called Thornbury to see my sister again and meet her boyfriend and his family - all such lovely people. The town itself was a quaint, very quiet boring country town but Chelsea is happy there which is the main thing.

After seeing her for the last time till who knows when, I made the journey back to the hostel where the Albanian man who was persistent in telling me everyday how much he loves Australian blondes (just my luck another creepy old man), I decided the only way to make the hours go by faster and to get him to stop talking to me was to load myself up on dairy to pass out for the night… this was a terrible idea. I am highly intolerant to dairy, it makes me bloat, pass out and feel absolutely awful… what can I say I am very stubborn when I think I have a good idea. 

Off to Amsterdam now where I am meeting up with Grant. So excited for the next chapter of my exciting adventure!

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Dauntingly Daring

The sky is grey and it is gently spitting rain, normal for England I suppose. I really am beginning to miss sunny days which happen so often at home. I just got to my hostel Rock n Bowls in Bristol. I am so nervous. My stomach is churning, my palms are sweating, my heart is racing (not to sure if its because of the vodka hitting my stomach already or if it is because of the nerves). It is a massive hostel with the only age limits being 18+, there are a lot of old men and it is hard not to stereotype them as pedo's because they have creepy moustaches and they are staying in what seems to be a rather young peoples hostel. However, that is not the reason why I am nervous. I am nervous because it is the first time I have felt truly alone, I really do not know what to do with myself. I want to introduce myself to people and be sociable but I am extremely scared, I am over-shadowed with doubt and lack of confidence. What if they don't like me? I mean who cares really I just have to deal with this place until Friday morning but still  I want to make at least one friend while I'm here. Maybe I'll have a few more cockails, that will numb my nerves and boost my confidence... *Screaming* 

I was eyeing off some cute boys, and they seemed to notice me as well. Maybe I'll sit with them? Far out, here goes nothing...
Deep breathes Emily! Be cool, calm and collected! People perceive me as this confident young woman travelling the world. Inside though I am so scared of introducing myself to new people, of being alone, I really think of myself as shy, as an introvert. I feel really shocked when I learn that people think of me as this adventurous, out-going, confident girl. I really just try and act like the person I envision myself to be. Kudos to my mum it is quite similar to her personality, fun, bubbly and adventurous. That is not saying that I pretend to be someone I'm not, I just try and act like the person who I think I am until I naturally don't feel as nervous or I have had so much alcohol I just don't care anymore. If I have a partner in crime it is a whole another ball game, I feel confident with a friend because I guess I don't look desperate... its both of us looking like a fool instead of just me. I think a lot of people feel this way. We just have to remember that majority of people are nice and accommodating.
I really want to interview people for my blog, to see what brings them to Bristol, their views on themselves and the world so I have to be confident in order to achieve not only that but my dream job! If I can conquer these three days by myself I will be a new liberated woman! I will be free (hopefully) from self-consciousness and I will be more confident in myself as a person I think... I hope... This could just be wishful thinking. Wish me luck! 

The reason why I came to Bristol wasn't to see the sights, I am seeing my sister for the first time in about seven years! I am so excited!! The hours are going so slow because I want time to go quicker  so I can see her faster. I am not to sure what we are going to do tomorrow but I am super duper excited. 

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