So that's it dear readers. I have attended the five weddings and travelled the three countries... all in one year. I have flown exactly 14,391.53 miles, stayed in more hotels this year than I've done my entire life and, Lord only knows how much ground I've covered via train and car. For me 2010 is no doubt the Year of the Wedding and I have experienced so much joy, laughter and love through being there for my friends on their special day.
Friends who have begun a new chapter as someone's Mrs. Next will be the babies but as to who I think will be the first to changing nappies and enduring sleepless night - that I have no idea. BUT I sure hope by some freak coincidence that the bundles of joy DO NOT appear all at the same time!
And me? As exhausting as it has been, worrying about money and having to cancel plans with other friends at the last confetti minute, I needed this crazy year to gain some much needed perspective. Funnily enough amid all its craziness, two very significant things happened to me this year. Firstly I got to laugh properly again. The last part of 2009 and into the start of this year was neither easy nor fun. The failures and disappointments professionally left me feeling bitter, jaded and disillusioned. I lost faith and hope. But then I got to re-discover one of my first loves: travelling. Getting away from the monotony that is everyday real life meant I was able to experience some valuable me time. It is from this solitude that I found myself smiling and laughing again.
Secondly, I'm writing again. OK so I'm not going to win any Pulitzer prizes with this blog but dear readers through updating you with all my ramblings, I've remembered why I fell in love with this art in the first place. Maintaining a blog is not easy, especially when you're really not in the mood, but it is the continuous requests for updates, acknowledgement and comments that have kept me motivated throughout. So THANK YOU for visiting this page to catch up on my disasters, hopeless celebrity crushes, dress hunts and yes, my running through train stations and airports. I've had one hell of a ride and I sincerely hope you have enjoyed it too.
Who knows when my time will come to star as leading lady in my own big day? Will I ever be able to overcome my issues and pride to one day be able to say: "I have loved another with my heart and soul and for me that has always been enough" (name that film)? Who knows. Come what may I can promise you this: when it's my time I will start a whole new blog and update you on every disaster, hopeless celebrity crushes (every man and woman gets cold feet after all!), dress hunts and yes, no doubt running... though less Julia Roberts in Runaway Bride, more just plain old me trying to be on time.
In the meantime, while my girls are all living happily ever after, this friend/ maid of honour/ writer/ happy-go-lucky single yet fabulous lady is looking forward to a long sleep. Memo to all potential knight in shining whatevers: please do not wake me up as Mama needs her rest!
Sunday 31 October 2010
Reception no5: Faye and Chris continuing the wedding celebrates back home on The Wirral
For a second and final time I put on my maid of honour dress along with the ridiculously high shoes for a night of dancing at Tranmere Rovers Football Club on The Wirral. Finally Faye and Chris, the beautiful bride and groom, had their first dance - to Frankie Goes to Hollywood's Power of Love.
Speeches were made by the groom, best man and Faye's Gay Best Friend Jon. I didn't need to repeat my masterpiece which is all good considering I didn't have time to go over anything. It has been three weeks after all! A ridiculously large buffet was prepared by the mum's and Elaine, Faye's sister-in-law (Chris accidentally letting it slip that the food came from Costco. Cue Faye: "Chris!")
I made a special request to the DJ for Elvis's Viva Las Vegas (of course) and an hour passed by before the Dragon's Den presenter lookalike revealed that while he had a copy of The King's Greatest Hits, that was the one track he did not have. What?! Seriously?! Fortunately Chris came to the rescue. He downloaded that very song onto his iPhone. After some connecting of the wires and reconfiguration, the DJ was able to blast out the song that for me defines Las Vegas. God bless modern day technology and thank you Groomie!
It was wonderful meeting, reuniting with the extended Keane and Dabek families and friends. Everyone had so much fun. None more so than Jon who at one point was lying on the floor gyrating to some tune. I was that mesmerised with his thrusting, legs swinging in the air moves that I wasn't hearing the music at all. There's always one at every party who is fearless on the dancefloor - and last night it was the gay guy who can I say needs to pack up and move down to London because he is destined for stardom in one way or another.
Parv being there made the night even more special as it brought back sweet memories of the good old uni days. Granted it was surreal being at the wedding of one member of the Terror Squad. Who knows who will be the next to wed. The three of us also agreed that even though we're all living in different parts of the country (and world in Jo's case) post uni we're all doing our own thing, that it is important to make the effort to reunite more. Our friendship is that strong and priceless that in years to come no marriage, babies and job is justifiable enough an excuse to lose touch.
The night ended with a less than glamourous walk in the rain up the main road looking for a taxi that will take us back to the fab (but no patch on the Vegas) hotel. Having walked past a group of scantily-clad teenage girls trying to cover their hair with their handbags, Parv and I ended up outside the Co-op. Not our finest moment I admit!
The end of the night marked the end of this crazy, romantic, beautiful and surreal year for me. Five weddings DONE. What a year it has been.
Speeches were made by the groom, best man and Faye's Gay Best Friend Jon. I didn't need to repeat my masterpiece which is all good considering I didn't have time to go over anything. It has been three weeks after all! A ridiculously large buffet was prepared by the mum's and Elaine, Faye's sister-in-law (Chris accidentally letting it slip that the food came from Costco. Cue Faye: "Chris!")
I made a special request to the DJ for Elvis's Viva Las Vegas (of course) and an hour passed by before the Dragon's Den presenter lookalike revealed that while he had a copy of The King's Greatest Hits, that was the one track he did not have. What?! Seriously?! Fortunately Chris came to the rescue. He downloaded that very song onto his iPhone. After some connecting of the wires and reconfiguration, the DJ was able to blast out the song that for me defines Las Vegas. God bless modern day technology and thank you Groomie!
It was wonderful meeting, reuniting with the extended Keane and Dabek families and friends. Everyone had so much fun. None more so than Jon who at one point was lying on the floor gyrating to some tune. I was that mesmerised with his thrusting, legs swinging in the air moves that I wasn't hearing the music at all. There's always one at every party who is fearless on the dancefloor - and last night it was the gay guy who can I say needs to pack up and move down to London because he is destined for stardom in one way or another.
Parv being there made the night even more special as it brought back sweet memories of the good old uni days. Granted it was surreal being at the wedding of one member of the Terror Squad. Who knows who will be the next to wed. The three of us also agreed that even though we're all living in different parts of the country (and world in Jo's case) post uni we're all doing our own thing, that it is important to make the effort to reunite more. Our friendship is that strong and priceless that in years to come no marriage, babies and job is justifiable enough an excuse to lose touch.
The night ended with a less than glamourous walk in the rain up the main road looking for a taxi that will take us back to the fab (but no patch on the Vegas) hotel. Having walked past a group of scantily-clad teenage girls trying to cover their hair with their handbags, Parv and I ended up outside the Co-op. Not our finest moment I admit!
The end of the night marked the end of this crazy, romantic, beautiful and surreal year for me. Five weddings DONE. What a year it has been.
Calling Dr McDreamy!
The poll has finally ended and yes, just as I predicted, Patrick Dempsey has come out on top with 60% of the votes in declaring who is more attractive: him or True Blood's Alexander Skarsgaard.
In all fairness to the vamp I have seen some clips of him in action as his character (the name escapes me!) and I do understand the hype but give me the tall, dark, handsome, charming, Mer's Knight in Shining Whatever* Derek anyday!
Thanks for voting dear readers.
*I have made reference to this in many entries and some of you have asked me about it. Well now you know where I got it from. You didn't think I came up with this all by myself did you?
In all fairness to the vamp I have seen some clips of him in action as his character (the name escapes me!) and I do understand the hype but give me the tall, dark, handsome, charming, Mer's Knight in Shining Whatever* Derek anyday!
Thanks for voting dear readers.
*I have made reference to this in many entries and some of you have asked me about it. Well now you know where I got it from. You didn't think I came up with this all by myself did you?
Friday 29 October 2010
Lost in New York City
One memorable New York event which I completely forgot to include in the previous post involves yet another taxi driver and winding up on the wrong end of Manhattan... at night.
It all happened when I took the wrong Subway route coming back from Brooklyn Bridge. The routes divide up into either green or red. Green is for east and red for west. My hotel was on West 99th Street. Now there was a direct service to East 99th but to go to West 99th I need to make several changes. It was getting late, cold and I was tired and hungry. Somehow I thought if I get off at East then I can simply walk across, cutting through Central Park.How wrong was I.
Exiting the Subway stop to a dark street, few cars on the road and with the only bright light coming from a dingy 24 hour convenience store, my gut was telling me what a bad plan I hatched. I stepped inside to ask anyone which way is west. The store owner along with this Latina lady told me plainly that it was almost impossible to walk to West 99th. They advised me to get back onto the Subway and find someway to change onto the red route. Oh dear.
Standing on the street corner with my map, I did think to just walk it. But then a taxi suddenly pulled over and the driver told me to get in. I thanked the universe again for my luck. The driver, while friendly and chatty, did not hesitate to lecture me on the dangers of walking around the city by myself at night, especially as a tourist. He said he knew instantly what I was thinking of doing when he saw me with the map (and no doubt with the look that said "I know it's not the best idea but I might as well give it a try...") He said that Central Park is no place to be walking through when it's dark. His point was emphasised by one entrance cornered off by police cars and ambulances. Duly noted.
Since arriving home all safe and well, I would like to give a big shout out to the New York taxi driver who took me back to the right side of the city. And yes I promise that if it happens again walking around will be the last option.
It all happened when I took the wrong Subway route coming back from Brooklyn Bridge. The routes divide up into either green or red. Green is for east and red for west. My hotel was on West 99th Street. Now there was a direct service to East 99th but to go to West 99th I need to make several changes. It was getting late, cold and I was tired and hungry. Somehow I thought if I get off at East then I can simply walk across, cutting through Central Park.How wrong was I.
Exiting the Subway stop to a dark street, few cars on the road and with the only bright light coming from a dingy 24 hour convenience store, my gut was telling me what a bad plan I hatched. I stepped inside to ask anyone which way is west. The store owner along with this Latina lady told me plainly that it was almost impossible to walk to West 99th. They advised me to get back onto the Subway and find someway to change onto the red route. Oh dear.
Standing on the street corner with my map, I did think to just walk it. But then a taxi suddenly pulled over and the driver told me to get in. I thanked the universe again for my luck. The driver, while friendly and chatty, did not hesitate to lecture me on the dangers of walking around the city by myself at night, especially as a tourist. He said he knew instantly what I was thinking of doing when he saw me with the map (and no doubt with the look that said "I know it's not the best idea but I might as well give it a try...") He said that Central Park is no place to be walking through when it's dark. His point was emphasised by one entrance cornered off by police cars and ambulances. Duly noted.
Since arriving home all safe and well, I would like to give a big shout out to the New York taxi driver who took me back to the right side of the city. And yes I promise that if it happens again walking around will be the last option.
Thursday 28 October 2010
New York: a 24 hour Love Story
One moment it was nothing but Autumn leaves and highways in all that I could see and the next it was the Manhattan skyline lighting up the pitch black sky. There’s the Empire State! The Chrysler Building! Not even the heavy rain could dampen the excitement that was: I’m in New York.
Waiting for a taxi in Downtown Manhattan while it rained was not the best way to start the visit. Cab drivers in this city are impatient. Traffic is a nightmare and every few seconds you can guarantee to hear horns going off followed by some strong curses.
After a 40 minute wait I was finally on my way to Hotel 99 near the West End. As the bus terminated at 42nd Street, it was crazy to even think about walking. Hotel 99 is not a patch on the luxury I experienced in Las Vegas. It is bog standard travellers accommodation. The bathroom is shared which I was OK with - apart from the first time I took a shower and found a used plaster stuck on the window. The room surprised me in many ways. There was a wide screen television and an iPod docking station. A step up from a typical hostel but not quite as glam as a hotel.
The TV was my saviour on my first night. I had planned on heading down Broadway and maybe Times Square but Mr Rain washed away those plans. So I spent the night watching a double bill of Grey’s Anatomy and a marathon of CSI New York. I wasn’t complaining!
The next morning fortunately it was blue skies but very chilly. Determined to make the most of my 24 hours in the city its natives claim to be the best in the world, I bundled up on the layers and started my sightseeing at 10am.
First stop Central Park. I believe that you can spend a whole day walking around and you will probably have only covered half of it. It is huge but stunning. The reservoir that suddenly appears out of nowhere was my favourite part. Admittedly I spent ages walking around as I wanted to find the gorgeous bridge featured in Maid of Honour. It’s in the scene where Patrick Dempsey jokingly threatens to jump off when Michelle Monaghan gives him the news that she’s going away for a while.
The bridge I did not find. Instead I met a random 40-something man called Ian Cunningham who told me to come over and watch some squirrels in a tree. Must admit I wasn’t that impressed with seeing these rats with bushy tails but random Ian turned out to be quite an interesting person. He was drinking his second beer – “the best way to start the day” – and very proudly explained why New York is the best city in the world. His reason for why New Yorkers very rarely leave is because everyone else chooses to come to them. Fair enough. We even had a nosy in the parked cop cars where in one we saw a mass litter of coffee cups and doughnut boxes!
Having parted ways on 5th Avenue, I walked down imagining myself in one of the $2m (minimum) apartments. I didn't have a couple million to spare but I was able to afford a $2 hot dog from a vendor opposite the MET.
Next stop was Rockefeller Centre. On Simone's advice, I chose not to go up the Empire State as I wanted a full view of it. Sound advice indeed. Standing on the observation deck, 70 floors up, with a panoramic view of the city = sheer brilliance. It was windy and some 90 minutes later I could barely feel my face but with the Empire State in front and a miniscule Statue of Liberty in the far back distance was worth it.
Exiting Rockefeller I was tempted to do some ice skating but having never tried it before I decided against it because you can guarantee I would have taken down some kiddies with me. Plus I was on limited time and ice skating in New York is not as joyous if you’re on your own. So on I went.
Grand Central is no ordinary train station. It is an architectural dream. I also felt sorry for all the commuters in a rush who have to meander their way through the endless tourists all locked in one position, photographing every ceiling tile. When I saw the giant clock I could not help but giggle as I thought of that scene in Madagascar where the animals are cornered by the NYPD. Silly I know. Another reason to be happy was buying the newly released new book by Nelson Mandela Conversations With Myself.
Leaving Grand Central, I went on my first Subway ride. It was buying my ticket where I experienced my first NYWA: New Yorker with an Attitude. It was $8 for an all day pass and all I had was $1 bills. Each one had to be inserted straight and the right way up. Not even halfway through, I heard some girl make a deliberate would-you-hurry-up sigh. Well that just made me go slower. I didn’t even bother looking up to see who it was. I was tempted to press cancel and start all over but that would have been unfair to the rest of the queue. To me the Subway is more spacious than the Tube. Seats are more comfortable. My friend Alex says this is to accommodate all the fat people in America! I even, get this, made eyes with a cute Chinese guy for a few stops. He got off at one stop before me and no we didn’t say anything as he was listening to music and I was reading my new book.
Chinatown – it had to be done as my parents bound to have wanted to see some pictures. Unlike Manchester, New York Chinatown is spread out and it’s easy to get lost in. There's not as many Chinese people as Vancouver. Of course I got lost as I found myself walking away from Brooklyn Bridge rather than towards. Maps are hard for some people!
When I finally got to the Bridge (for me the most important place to visit when in New York) I actually waited for an hour before doing the walk. I didn’t want to finish it before night time really kicked in as I really wanted to see the full effects of the Manhattan skyline in the evening. So I sat on a bench and had a rest. It was then I really felt the ache in my legs. I had walked around the city for six and half hours and now I was to walk up and down the 1,595 ft long bridge.
When I stepped onto the bridge, there was some daylight left. By the time I left it was pitch black. But my goodness, what a view. The Manhattan skyline, though not as close as the first view when the bus entered the city, is something I'll never get tired of. While the temperature continued to drop, I was happy just standing where I was looking at the city from the Brooklyn side. I would have stayed there all night if I could.
So that was my New York experience. I call it a 24 hour love story because in that one day I saw natural and architectural beauty that made me look forward to coming back and doing it all over again. I get why New Yorkers claim this to be the best city in the world, albeit I don’t agree personally. New York is fast moving, never sleeps and I am sure a place where no two days are ever the same.
The next time I’m there I probably won’t do it alone. As much as I advocate solo travelling, admittedly New York is too romantic of a place to be alone in - especially as a tourist. At times it really did hit me that I was on my own. Not in the sense of Good Lord I’m so alone I must find someone asap. But more in the sense of making a memory of an exact moment with someone and laughing about it in years to come. So next time be it with a knight in shining whatever, friends or family I will experience the moments (again) with someone.
Waiting for a taxi in Downtown Manhattan while it rained was not the best way to start the visit. Cab drivers in this city are impatient. Traffic is a nightmare and every few seconds you can guarantee to hear horns going off followed by some strong curses.
After a 40 minute wait I was finally on my way to Hotel 99 near the West End. As the bus terminated at 42nd Street, it was crazy to even think about walking. Hotel 99 is not a patch on the luxury I experienced in Las Vegas. It is bog standard travellers accommodation. The bathroom is shared which I was OK with - apart from the first time I took a shower and found a used plaster stuck on the window. The room surprised me in many ways. There was a wide screen television and an iPod docking station. A step up from a typical hostel but not quite as glam as a hotel.
The TV was my saviour on my first night. I had planned on heading down Broadway and maybe Times Square but Mr Rain washed away those plans. So I spent the night watching a double bill of Grey’s Anatomy and a marathon of CSI New York. I wasn’t complaining!
The next morning fortunately it was blue skies but very chilly. Determined to make the most of my 24 hours in the city its natives claim to be the best in the world, I bundled up on the layers and started my sightseeing at 10am.
First stop Central Park. I believe that you can spend a whole day walking around and you will probably have only covered half of it. It is huge but stunning. The reservoir that suddenly appears out of nowhere was my favourite part. Admittedly I spent ages walking around as I wanted to find the gorgeous bridge featured in Maid of Honour. It’s in the scene where Patrick Dempsey jokingly threatens to jump off when Michelle Monaghan gives him the news that she’s going away for a while.
The bridge I did not find. Instead I met a random 40-something man called Ian Cunningham who told me to come over and watch some squirrels in a tree. Must admit I wasn’t that impressed with seeing these rats with bushy tails but random Ian turned out to be quite an interesting person. He was drinking his second beer – “the best way to start the day” – and very proudly explained why New York is the best city in the world. His reason for why New Yorkers very rarely leave is because everyone else chooses to come to them. Fair enough. We even had a nosy in the parked cop cars where in one we saw a mass litter of coffee cups and doughnut boxes!
Having parted ways on 5th Avenue, I walked down imagining myself in one of the $2m (minimum) apartments. I didn't have a couple million to spare but I was able to afford a $2 hot dog from a vendor opposite the MET.
Next stop was Rockefeller Centre. On Simone's advice, I chose not to go up the Empire State as I wanted a full view of it. Sound advice indeed. Standing on the observation deck, 70 floors up, with a panoramic view of the city = sheer brilliance. It was windy and some 90 minutes later I could barely feel my face but with the Empire State in front and a miniscule Statue of Liberty in the far back distance was worth it.
Exiting Rockefeller I was tempted to do some ice skating but having never tried it before I decided against it because you can guarantee I would have taken down some kiddies with me. Plus I was on limited time and ice skating in New York is not as joyous if you’re on your own. So on I went.
Grand Central is no ordinary train station. It is an architectural dream. I also felt sorry for all the commuters in a rush who have to meander their way through the endless tourists all locked in one position, photographing every ceiling tile. When I saw the giant clock I could not help but giggle as I thought of that scene in Madagascar where the animals are cornered by the NYPD. Silly I know. Another reason to be happy was buying the newly released new book by Nelson Mandela Conversations With Myself.
Leaving Grand Central, I went on my first Subway ride. It was buying my ticket where I experienced my first NYWA: New Yorker with an Attitude. It was $8 for an all day pass and all I had was $1 bills. Each one had to be inserted straight and the right way up. Not even halfway through, I heard some girl make a deliberate would-you-hurry-up sigh. Well that just made me go slower. I didn’t even bother looking up to see who it was. I was tempted to press cancel and start all over but that would have been unfair to the rest of the queue. To me the Subway is more spacious than the Tube. Seats are more comfortable. My friend Alex says this is to accommodate all the fat people in America! I even, get this, made eyes with a cute Chinese guy for a few stops. He got off at one stop before me and no we didn’t say anything as he was listening to music and I was reading my new book.
Chinatown – it had to be done as my parents bound to have wanted to see some pictures. Unlike Manchester, New York Chinatown is spread out and it’s easy to get lost in. There's not as many Chinese people as Vancouver. Of course I got lost as I found myself walking away from Brooklyn Bridge rather than towards. Maps are hard for some people!
When I finally got to the Bridge (for me the most important place to visit when in New York) I actually waited for an hour before doing the walk. I didn’t want to finish it before night time really kicked in as I really wanted to see the full effects of the Manhattan skyline in the evening. So I sat on a bench and had a rest. It was then I really felt the ache in my legs. I had walked around the city for six and half hours and now I was to walk up and down the 1,595 ft long bridge.
When I stepped onto the bridge, there was some daylight left. By the time I left it was pitch black. But my goodness, what a view. The Manhattan skyline, though not as close as the first view when the bus entered the city, is something I'll never get tired of. While the temperature continued to drop, I was happy just standing where I was looking at the city from the Brooklyn side. I would have stayed there all night if I could.
So that was my New York experience. I call it a 24 hour love story because in that one day I saw natural and architectural beauty that made me look forward to coming back and doing it all over again. I get why New Yorkers claim this to be the best city in the world, albeit I don’t agree personally. New York is fast moving, never sleeps and I am sure a place where no two days are ever the same.
The next time I’m there I probably won’t do it alone. As much as I advocate solo travelling, admittedly New York is too romantic of a place to be alone in - especially as a tourist. At times it really did hit me that I was on my own. Not in the sense of Good Lord I’m so alone I must find someone asap. But more in the sense of making a memory of an exact moment with someone and laughing about it in years to come. So next time be it with a knight in shining whatever, friends or family I will experience the moments (again) with someone.
Montreal: Can't speak French so I let Alice do the talking, talking...
After Vancouver I headed east to Montreal, Quebec to spend one day with Alice. Alice’s has definitely put her degree in French and Spanish into good use judging by how fluent she is and her swanky Rolls Royce job.
Montreal is proud of its French heritage. It was like being in Paris again – the architecture, the cobbled streets, the old lampposts, the cafes and the wines. It was magnifique. Speaking English was like taking the poor man’s option. Even though I have an A* in French GCSE, without Alice being there as my translator, I would have been so lost.
The night went too quickly. It’s amazing how even after a year apart, we were still able to talk the night away and at no point did we run out of things to say. But our reunion was limited due to work for Alice and me heading down to New York by the Amtrak bus at 9am the next day. The bus was by far the cheaper option. Now in hindsight, googling the address of the station at 2am after many mojitos and vodka tonics was not the wisest of decisions. I got an address from the Amtrak website. Destination: Le Gare Centrale (or something to that effect.) So come 7.30am with a mild hangover Alice dropped me off at what turned out to be the train station. Hmm maybe it’s all together. Having waited in the queue with my heavy luggage, surrounded by commuters, a nice lady who spoke perfect English said I needed to go over to the main building for Amtrak. So off I went again crossing the main roads on a busy Thursday morning heading towards the main train station.
Fifteen minutes, three men and a possible lost reservation later, I find out that I needed the bus station… which was 10 minutes back where Alice and I came from. Cue panic. I needed to be at the boarding gate at least 30 minutes before departure and the thought of being stranded in a place where no one would understand my top grade GCSE French terrified me. So I ran (it’s becoming quite a habit this) to the taxi rank.
It was just my luck that I get a driver who not only did not speak English but was also the moodiest, glass-smashed-into-a-billion-pieces, unfriendly person I came across during the whole holiday. I got as far as Bonjour before I gave up all hope of making any small conversation. The silence was painful.
Then came paying the $14 bill. Now the night before I had spent all my small bills with Alice leaving me with single $100 note. My fault I admit but before I could attempt to explain myself, Monsieur Moody started yelling at me – in French and English! By some sheer miracle he managed to say, “No! No! No! No! I have no change for 100. Look. I want $14!” I asked if I could go to the taxi drivers in front and ask for change. “No! They have no change!” Je ne parle en anglais - come again? He then told me to leave my belongings with him, go into the shop and get the change. As if!
Then a light went off in my head. I have US dollars. On the flight to Montreal, I overheard some businessmen talking about how the Canadian/Dollar exchange rate was at its strongest. So I offered US $20 to Monsieur Moody telling him to keep the change. Obviously he took it and boy did he speed off quickly. I sure hope he treated himself to something pretty because damn he needed loosening up.
Having just made it to the boarding gate, the silver lining was the kind bus driver let me off with having an extra bag. So off I went again on a nine hour journey heading for New York City – where dreams are made of.
Montreal is proud of its French heritage. It was like being in Paris again – the architecture, the cobbled streets, the old lampposts, the cafes and the wines. It was magnifique. Speaking English was like taking the poor man’s option. Even though I have an A* in French GCSE, without Alice being there as my translator, I would have been so lost.
The night went too quickly. It’s amazing how even after a year apart, we were still able to talk the night away and at no point did we run out of things to say. But our reunion was limited due to work for Alice and me heading down to New York by the Amtrak bus at 9am the next day. The bus was by far the cheaper option. Now in hindsight, googling the address of the station at 2am after many mojitos and vodka tonics was not the wisest of decisions. I got an address from the Amtrak website. Destination: Le Gare Centrale (or something to that effect.) So come 7.30am with a mild hangover Alice dropped me off at what turned out to be the train station. Hmm maybe it’s all together. Having waited in the queue with my heavy luggage, surrounded by commuters, a nice lady who spoke perfect English said I needed to go over to the main building for Amtrak. So off I went again crossing the main roads on a busy Thursday morning heading towards the main train station.
Fifteen minutes, three men and a possible lost reservation later, I find out that I needed the bus station… which was 10 minutes back where Alice and I came from. Cue panic. I needed to be at the boarding gate at least 30 minutes before departure and the thought of being stranded in a place where no one would understand my top grade GCSE French terrified me. So I ran (it’s becoming quite a habit this) to the taxi rank.
It was just my luck that I get a driver who not only did not speak English but was also the moodiest, glass-smashed-into-a-billion-pieces, unfriendly person I came across during the whole holiday. I got as far as Bonjour before I gave up all hope of making any small conversation. The silence was painful.
Then came paying the $14 bill. Now the night before I had spent all my small bills with Alice leaving me with single $100 note. My fault I admit but before I could attempt to explain myself, Monsieur Moody started yelling at me – in French and English! By some sheer miracle he managed to say, “No! No! No! No! I have no change for 100. Look. I want $14!” I asked if I could go to the taxi drivers in front and ask for change. “No! They have no change!” Je ne parle en anglais - come again? He then told me to leave my belongings with him, go into the shop and get the change. As if!
Then a light went off in my head. I have US dollars. On the flight to Montreal, I overheard some businessmen talking about how the Canadian/Dollar exchange rate was at its strongest. So I offered US $20 to Monsieur Moody telling him to keep the change. Obviously he took it and boy did he speed off quickly. I sure hope he treated himself to something pretty because damn he needed loosening up.
Having just made it to the boarding gate, the silver lining was the kind bus driver let me off with having an extra bag. So off I went again on a nine hour journey heading for New York City – where dreams are made of.
Wednesday 27 October 2010
Due North: from Vegas to Vancouver BC, Canada
So after Las Vegas I flew to Vancouver to spend six whole days with some wonderful relatives. Auntie Sannie is my Dad's youngest sister and the more I spend time with her the better I understand where I get my personality from. Auntie Sannie is adventurous, brave, incredibly intelligent and believe me if I looked half as decent as her when I'm in my late 50s then I shall be extremely lucky.
I also finally got to meet my cousins Gina and Joe along with Richard, my cousin-in-law. I've already met their younger brother Andy. Unfortunately Uncle John was away in Hong Kong on business otherwise it would have been the ultimate family gathering.
You know I have got to hand it to the Siu family. Uncle John and Auntie Sannie raised some good children. They're blessed with the most wonderful son-in-law. Richard is selfless, patient and kind. He even devotes his Saturdays to leading the Boys Scouts! During my trip he acted as my chauffeur and photographer while selflessly digging out an old mobile to give to me, topped up with credit, so that I could contact people whenever I want - rather than use my international rates. He does all this without any agenda or expecting anything in return. Just when you thought this type only existed in the films and novels.
Gina is a very lucky woman and she deserves someone like him. She is beautiful, hilarious, self-deprecating and has an enviable relationship with Auntie Sannie. She kept me laughing throughout the whole six days I was there. She stressed the importance in fully training your man before marrying him. That way he is a keeper. Duly noted cousin!
Where Gina and Andy are loud, Joe on the other hand is laid back and happy to be in the background getting on with his own thing. This is another extremely decent man - very intelligent too. He is destined to go even further than he already has done. But one thing that did shock me was witnessing just how competitive he gets. Watching him determined to beat Richard on the PS2 before going home proved to me that he definitely takes after Uncle John! Joe, bless him, even drove me to Whistler even though he was tired from a late night with the boys. Whistler is a 2.5/3hours drive. He could have postponed it but he made a promise and he fulfilled it.
Now Andy, I am close with. He's just 11 months older than me and really we couldn't be any more different. The one thing we have in common is alcohol and man can my cousin knock back the vodka! He introduced me to some skull-shaped brand that's produced by Dan Ackeroyd. I returned the favour by making Malibu and cranberry with Bombay gin. Girly drink I know but it tasted nice! In all seriousness, Andy is a survivor. He can go through a gruelling day's work and still come home and hang out with his quirky British cousin until way past midnight. He's also turning into my Dad in a really freakish way. His mannerisms, body language and sayings all reminds me of Papa Ng. Andy may be a tough guy on the outside but two things brings out the true sensitive soul in him: his family and his cat. He's very protective and if I'm ever facing any danger, I'd feel safe with him by my side.
They say that the second thing after love that ties a family together is food. And good Lord does my family appreciate the value and privilege of a good meal. In fact, let me put it this way: Vancouver is a place where you will never go hungry. There must be hundreds of eating places. Day One we went and had Chinese steam bowl (where you throw all kinds of meats, seafood and vegetables into the boil of flavoured water). Day Two Chinese takeout. Day Three Cheesecake Factory in Seattle. Day Four Sushi where I tried oysters. Verdict = mmmmmm! Day Five takeout feast at home. When I heard Auntie Sannie talk about buying a chicken for dinner I thought she meant cook it from scratch. Her response: "You see these hands? They're not made for heavy cooking!"
I also had Japanese noodles and Japanese style hotdogs aka JAPPADOGS! Standard hotdog with seaweed and wasabi mustard? FIT! How I didn't put on an extra two stone I'll never know.
Vancouver has a lot of Chinese people. In fact I'm sure I spoke more Cantonese than English during this leg of the holiday which is always a blessing. I now understand why a lot of people say Vancouver is a place they wouldn't mind moving to. With it's fast pace, the people are down to earth and enjoy life. When I told my Auntie this, well she suggested I stay in Vancouver where I can eat for all eternity and she'll find a man for me to marry. But before what could have been the biggest twist to this story actually happened, Gina more realistically said, "OR you can find a writing job and stay here."
My family. Spending six days in Vancouver made me realise just how darn lucky I am to have such wonderful relatives and friends in my life. This trip has more than made me realise that no matter how far I go on my own around the globe, they will always be a phone call, a bus ride, a flight away. And that is one unbreakable safety net.
I also finally got to meet my cousins Gina and Joe along with Richard, my cousin-in-law. I've already met their younger brother Andy. Unfortunately Uncle John was away in Hong Kong on business otherwise it would have been the ultimate family gathering.
You know I have got to hand it to the Siu family. Uncle John and Auntie Sannie raised some good children. They're blessed with the most wonderful son-in-law. Richard is selfless, patient and kind. He even devotes his Saturdays to leading the Boys Scouts! During my trip he acted as my chauffeur and photographer while selflessly digging out an old mobile to give to me, topped up with credit, so that I could contact people whenever I want - rather than use my international rates. He does all this without any agenda or expecting anything in return. Just when you thought this type only existed in the films and novels.
Gina is a very lucky woman and she deserves someone like him. She is beautiful, hilarious, self-deprecating and has an enviable relationship with Auntie Sannie. She kept me laughing throughout the whole six days I was there. She stressed the importance in fully training your man before marrying him. That way he is a keeper. Duly noted cousin!
Where Gina and Andy are loud, Joe on the other hand is laid back and happy to be in the background getting on with his own thing. This is another extremely decent man - very intelligent too. He is destined to go even further than he already has done. But one thing that did shock me was witnessing just how competitive he gets. Watching him determined to beat Richard on the PS2 before going home proved to me that he definitely takes after Uncle John! Joe, bless him, even drove me to Whistler even though he was tired from a late night with the boys. Whistler is a 2.5/3hours drive. He could have postponed it but he made a promise and he fulfilled it.
Now Andy, I am close with. He's just 11 months older than me and really we couldn't be any more different. The one thing we have in common is alcohol and man can my cousin knock back the vodka! He introduced me to some skull-shaped brand that's produced by Dan Ackeroyd. I returned the favour by making Malibu and cranberry with Bombay gin. Girly drink I know but it tasted nice! In all seriousness, Andy is a survivor. He can go through a gruelling day's work and still come home and hang out with his quirky British cousin until way past midnight. He's also turning into my Dad in a really freakish way. His mannerisms, body language and sayings all reminds me of Papa Ng. Andy may be a tough guy on the outside but two things brings out the true sensitive soul in him: his family and his cat. He's very protective and if I'm ever facing any danger, I'd feel safe with him by my side.
They say that the second thing after love that ties a family together is food. And good Lord does my family appreciate the value and privilege of a good meal. In fact, let me put it this way: Vancouver is a place where you will never go hungry. There must be hundreds of eating places. Day One we went and had Chinese steam bowl (where you throw all kinds of meats, seafood and vegetables into the boil of flavoured water). Day Two Chinese takeout. Day Three Cheesecake Factory in Seattle. Day Four Sushi where I tried oysters. Verdict = mmmmmm! Day Five takeout feast at home. When I heard Auntie Sannie talk about buying a chicken for dinner I thought she meant cook it from scratch. Her response: "You see these hands? They're not made for heavy cooking!"
I also had Japanese noodles and Japanese style hotdogs aka JAPPADOGS! Standard hotdog with seaweed and wasabi mustard? FIT! How I didn't put on an extra two stone I'll never know.
Vancouver has a lot of Chinese people. In fact I'm sure I spoke more Cantonese than English during this leg of the holiday which is always a blessing. I now understand why a lot of people say Vancouver is a place they wouldn't mind moving to. With it's fast pace, the people are down to earth and enjoy life. When I told my Auntie this, well she suggested I stay in Vancouver where I can eat for all eternity and she'll find a man for me to marry. But before what could have been the biggest twist to this story actually happened, Gina more realistically said, "OR you can find a writing job and stay here."
My family. Spending six days in Vancouver made me realise just how darn lucky I am to have such wonderful relatives and friends in my life. This trip has more than made me realise that no matter how far I go on my own around the globe, they will always be a phone call, a bus ride, a flight away. And that is one unbreakable safety net.
Running through Heathrow Airport thanks to British Airways
Six days in Las Vegas brought plenty of fun, frolics, people meeting, happy tears and overkill on the tequila. In no particular order my Top 10 best moments are as follows:
1) Grand Canyon
2) Downing Jose Cuervo and Cornonas with Tim and the Oklahoma guys waking up the next morning with a mighty hangover and a Bellagio stamp on my hand – evidence that I ended in the nightclub.
3) Taking a romantic Gondala ride at The Venetian with Faye’s parents. I’m sure passerbys must have thought they took pity on the lonely Asian tourist.
4) The wedding of course!
5) Spending a lazy morning sunbathing at the Hard Rock while trying hard not to cry over ‘A Thousand Splendid Suns.’
6) Getting called Juicy Liu as I walked past Hooters
7) Going to the MGM Wet Republic pool party where I overindulged on the perving of hot, topless men and strawberry beer. At $16 each I kept the cup.
8) Ordering room service for the first and last time – total $32 for a pizza?! All because I was too lazy to head out to the SevenEleven
9) Witnessing the Bellagio fountains
10) Robert the jeweller store owner in the Venetian who tried to sell me canary diamond necklace for “only $950.” Saying no to this charming and handsome man was the right thing to do!
The award for the ultimate funniest, nerve-wracking, worrying, panicky and tiring moment goes to the day I almost could not fly out to Vegas.
So I arrived at Heathrow two hours before flight departure and was greeted by an extremely tanned and camp British Airways employee. Did I check in online a day before he asks. No. Oh dear. As it was such a busy flight and there were no more seats, I was in Standby mode. What? I bought my ticket 10 months ago! How could I be in Standby? Turns out that BA sells more seats than there are available as they expect some people to miss the flights.
Standing in that Standby queue the nerves kicked in. The next available flight was the morning after and even though BA would compensate me £200, I would miss my Grand Canyon trip!
Now you know those airport documentaries where there’s always some ill-mannered, vulgar Brit yelling at the check-in staff for whatever reason? Well I watched two men do the exact same thing. My heart went out to the woman sat behind the enquiry desk. When my turn came to see her I quietly said I understand the situation and heard everything she repeated to the men.
I guess she appreciated my understanding as 10 minutes after check in closed, with only 20 more until the gate did the same, by some sheer miracle three seats were available for Angry Men and me. I got called first! It just goes to show empathy and manners will get you far.
So with only 15 minutes to get through security and to gate A10 (it took five to check my suitcase in) I ran. It seems this year I’ve been doing a lot of running but pounding through Heathrow is a whole other sport. Sod’s Law would have it that I was behind a large family at security point with buggies that they didn’t think to fold up while they were in the queue. As soon as I got through the detectors I continued running towards the A gates – praying that I didn’t trip and fall in my wedges. Just to make it that much more difficult, A9 and A11 were on the same floor but A10, my gate, was one floor below. Seriously?!
It turns out I didn’t need to run as it took another 10 minutes to get us all on the buses. I could have used that time to buy sun cream and cleansing wipes instead of having to resort to baby wipes bought from Motel 6’s own convenience store.
This is how my Vegas trip began, running through the busiest airport in England. Had she been there I’m sure my high school PE teacher would have been very proud. Next time however, I will check in at least 24 hours before departure and make up for lost time in the airport bar!
1) Grand Canyon
2) Downing Jose Cuervo and Cornonas with Tim and the Oklahoma guys waking up the next morning with a mighty hangover and a Bellagio stamp on my hand – evidence that I ended in the nightclub.
3) Taking a romantic Gondala ride at The Venetian with Faye’s parents. I’m sure passerbys must have thought they took pity on the lonely Asian tourist.
4) The wedding of course!
5) Spending a lazy morning sunbathing at the Hard Rock while trying hard not to cry over ‘A Thousand Splendid Suns.’
6) Getting called Juicy Liu as I walked past Hooters
7) Going to the MGM Wet Republic pool party where I overindulged on the perving of hot, topless men and strawberry beer. At $16 each I kept the cup.
8) Ordering room service for the first and last time – total $32 for a pizza?! All because I was too lazy to head out to the SevenEleven
9) Witnessing the Bellagio fountains
10) Robert the jeweller store owner in the Venetian who tried to sell me canary diamond necklace for “only $950.” Saying no to this charming and handsome man was the right thing to do!
The award for the ultimate funniest, nerve-wracking, worrying, panicky and tiring moment goes to the day I almost could not fly out to Vegas.
So I arrived at Heathrow two hours before flight departure and was greeted by an extremely tanned and camp British Airways employee. Did I check in online a day before he asks. No. Oh dear. As it was such a busy flight and there were no more seats, I was in Standby mode. What? I bought my ticket 10 months ago! How could I be in Standby? Turns out that BA sells more seats than there are available as they expect some people to miss the flights.
Standing in that Standby queue the nerves kicked in. The next available flight was the morning after and even though BA would compensate me £200, I would miss my Grand Canyon trip!
Now you know those airport documentaries where there’s always some ill-mannered, vulgar Brit yelling at the check-in staff for whatever reason? Well I watched two men do the exact same thing. My heart went out to the woman sat behind the enquiry desk. When my turn came to see her I quietly said I understand the situation and heard everything she repeated to the men.
I guess she appreciated my understanding as 10 minutes after check in closed, with only 20 more until the gate did the same, by some sheer miracle three seats were available for Angry Men and me. I got called first! It just goes to show empathy and manners will get you far.
So with only 15 minutes to get through security and to gate A10 (it took five to check my suitcase in) I ran. It seems this year I’ve been doing a lot of running but pounding through Heathrow is a whole other sport. Sod’s Law would have it that I was behind a large family at security point with buggies that they didn’t think to fold up while they were in the queue. As soon as I got through the detectors I continued running towards the A gates – praying that I didn’t trip and fall in my wedges. Just to make it that much more difficult, A9 and A11 were on the same floor but A10, my gate, was one floor below. Seriously?!
It turns out I didn’t need to run as it took another 10 minutes to get us all on the buses. I could have used that time to buy sun cream and cleansing wipes instead of having to resort to baby wipes bought from Motel 6’s own convenience store.
This is how my Vegas trip began, running through the busiest airport in England. Had she been there I’m sure my high school PE teacher would have been very proud. Next time however, I will check in at least 24 hours before departure and make up for lost time in the airport bar!
The MOH speech to end all MOH speech
I'm not even going to be modest about it: my maid of honour kicked some wedding tushie!
I had so much fun doing it and it's a shame there's no video footage because it would be something I would show everyone and their grandmother if I could.
When I stood up it shocked the parents anyway because traditionally it's only the men who spoke. But in my world, the maid of honour gets the last word. Now I don't remember it verbatim but I started off thanking both families for allowing me to be a part of their day. I was the only friend at this wedding. Everyone is blood related. Of course I felt special.
Then I sang Chris's praises. I tried to embarrass him but Chris Dabek is a nice guy. The only thing I could come up with to marginally wind him up is the time he rapped Gettin' Jiggy With It by Will Smith on karaoke. My favourite bit in this part of the speech was reciting the following quote from The Notebook: "I'm a common man, with common thoughts having led a common life. There are no monuments dedicated to me and soon my name will be forgotten. But I have loved another with all my heart and for me that has always been enough." This not only exemplifies the way Chris feels about Faye but the film that means a lot to her. (This quote is quite possibly my favourite romantic line from any film.)
For Faye I actually created a 32 page scroll with 60 memorable moments from our friendship. Taking a trip down memory lane has been so much fun and it's a testament to our bond that we have never fallen out nor had any tiffs. Obviously in the name of Soli-Faye&Debs-darity I didn't read any of it out loud (plus lest not forget that the Mojave Desert is big and anything can be made to look like an accident!)
The speech ended with me thanking the couple for making me look forward to falling in love. This line is all me. Yes it's mushy but knowing Faye and Chris is knowing unconditional love.
The speech made the mums cry, people laughed and I'm sure some tables nearby were eavesdropping.
I was on fire!
I had so much fun doing it and it's a shame there's no video footage because it would be something I would show everyone and their grandmother if I could.
When I stood up it shocked the parents anyway because traditionally it's only the men who spoke. But in my world, the maid of honour gets the last word. Now I don't remember it verbatim but I started off thanking both families for allowing me to be a part of their day. I was the only friend at this wedding. Everyone is blood related. Of course I felt special.
Then I sang Chris's praises. I tried to embarrass him but Chris Dabek is a nice guy. The only thing I could come up with to marginally wind him up is the time he rapped Gettin' Jiggy With It by Will Smith on karaoke. My favourite bit in this part of the speech was reciting the following quote from The Notebook: "I'm a common man, with common thoughts having led a common life. There are no monuments dedicated to me and soon my name will be forgotten. But I have loved another with all my heart and for me that has always been enough." This not only exemplifies the way Chris feels about Faye but the film that means a lot to her. (This quote is quite possibly my favourite romantic line from any film.)
For Faye I actually created a 32 page scroll with 60 memorable moments from our friendship. Taking a trip down memory lane has been so much fun and it's a testament to our bond that we have never fallen out nor had any tiffs. Obviously in the name of Soli-Faye&Debs-darity I didn't read any of it out loud (plus lest not forget that the Mojave Desert is big and anything can be made to look like an accident!)
The speech ended with me thanking the couple for making me look forward to falling in love. This line is all me. Yes it's mushy but knowing Faye and Chris is knowing unconditional love.
The speech made the mums cry, people laughed and I'm sure some tables nearby were eavesdropping.
I was on fire!
Wedding no5: Faye and Chris Dabek - doing it Vegas style!
And so my gal Faye Keane became Mrs Dabek. It was definitely a wedding to remember. From the word go everything went without a hitch. I even made it safely up the aisle in my skyscraper shoes. Though believe me the pain did kick in about ten minutes in!
You should have seen Chris’s face when he saw his beautiful wife-to-be walking up to him. At first he looked nervous but as soon as they made eyes at each other, you could feel the calm wash over the both of them. In that moment everyone could see how in love they are with each other, besotted even.
Though the wedding was small what was really touching was that everyone played a key part. The mums lit the first candles, Mr Dabek did a reading, I was the maid of honour and Mr Keane obviously gave Faye away. It’s typical of Faye and Chris to make sure everyone has a role.
Prior to the ceremony Mrs Keane bet me $5 me that Chris would be the first to cry, thus reducing us all into quivering wrecks. I won because guess who was the first to crack? Mrs Keane herself. Her sobs halfway through set Mrs Dabek off. Unlike Wendie’s wedding, I managed to hold myself together. I welled up at times but it wasn’t until after the ceremony and onto the champagne reception when Faye’s dad came up to me and said, “Debbie thanks for everything,” that pushed me over the edge.
The meal at the steakhouse (in the Wynn) was amazing. I had veal for the first time. (Controversial I know!) We sat outside near the grand waterfall where halfway through the meal a giant green frog appeared on the top to the tune of Louis Armstrong’s What A Wonderful World. Now should any of you plan to visit Vegas one day, do look out for this. To this day I am still baffled as to the reasoning behind this. Maybe it’s just a very clever marketing ploy to get people talking about the Wynn. The Bellagio has its famous fountain display; the Wynn’s attempt at one-upping them is with this giant amphibian.
After dinner, the Newlyweds surprised us with a limo tour along the Strip. Swanky indeed. We even got to see the famous Welcome to Las Vegas sign which I had accepted that I would not see as it was a long way away on foot. I was indeed a very happy lady.
Americans love a good wedding and they are not shy in showing their excitement when they see a bride and groom. Everywhere Faye and Chris went, people applauded, cheered and yelled, ‘Congratulations!’ In one bar, two honeymooners from Alabama even bought them a drink. At the restaurant the applause gradually grew louder as table by table people stopped eating to congratulate them.
Faye and Chris are now back on the Wirral as Mr and Mrs. Their home reception do takes place this weekend at Tranmere Rovers Football Club. It will not rival that memorable day in Vegas but at least this time all family and friends will be present. I of course will be there once again fulfilling my MOH duties…in my pretty but painful skyscraper shoes.
You should have seen Chris’s face when he saw his beautiful wife-to-be walking up to him. At first he looked nervous but as soon as they made eyes at each other, you could feel the calm wash over the both of them. In that moment everyone could see how in love they are with each other, besotted even.
Though the wedding was small what was really touching was that everyone played a key part. The mums lit the first candles, Mr Dabek did a reading, I was the maid of honour and Mr Keane obviously gave Faye away. It’s typical of Faye and Chris to make sure everyone has a role.
Prior to the ceremony Mrs Keane bet me $5 me that Chris would be the first to cry, thus reducing us all into quivering wrecks. I won because guess who was the first to crack? Mrs Keane herself. Her sobs halfway through set Mrs Dabek off. Unlike Wendie’s wedding, I managed to hold myself together. I welled up at times but it wasn’t until after the ceremony and onto the champagne reception when Faye’s dad came up to me and said, “Debbie thanks for everything,” that pushed me over the edge.
The meal at the steakhouse (in the Wynn) was amazing. I had veal for the first time. (Controversial I know!) We sat outside near the grand waterfall where halfway through the meal a giant green frog appeared on the top to the tune of Louis Armstrong’s What A Wonderful World. Now should any of you plan to visit Vegas one day, do look out for this. To this day I am still baffled as to the reasoning behind this. Maybe it’s just a very clever marketing ploy to get people talking about the Wynn. The Bellagio has its famous fountain display; the Wynn’s attempt at one-upping them is with this giant amphibian.
After dinner, the Newlyweds surprised us with a limo tour along the Strip. Swanky indeed. We even got to see the famous Welcome to Las Vegas sign which I had accepted that I would not see as it was a long way away on foot. I was indeed a very happy lady.
Americans love a good wedding and they are not shy in showing their excitement when they see a bride and groom. Everywhere Faye and Chris went, people applauded, cheered and yelled, ‘Congratulations!’ In one bar, two honeymooners from Alabama even bought them a drink. At the restaurant the applause gradually grew louder as table by table people stopped eating to congratulate them.
Faye and Chris are now back on the Wirral as Mr and Mrs. Their home reception do takes place this weekend at Tranmere Rovers Football Club. It will not rival that memorable day in Vegas but at least this time all family and friends will be present. I of course will be there once again fulfilling my MOH duties…in my pretty but painful skyscraper shoes.
Tuesday 26 October 2010
The bond between a bride and her maid of honour
Three weeks ago today, my dear friends Chris and Faye became Mr and Mrs Dabek. The fifth (and final) of my year of weddings. Call be bias but it was by far the most lavish, glamourous and emotional event. Eighteen months ago people smirked when Faye announced that she was to have a Vegas wedding with many predicting some tacky drive-thru ceremony conducted by Elvis. Well a serving of Humble Pie for them. Everyone from the wedding organisers, Angela and Cabriole, to the Reverend to the make up artist played an important part in making this a day to remember.
The day began with Faye, Mrs Keane and I getting our hair and make up done at this fancy salon at The Wynn. Now Sod's Law would have it that my spots decided to make a united appearance that morning. But thanks to the power of a foundation spray machine, lots of concealer and the skill of the make up artist my face ended up looking flawless. OK so maybe it took three inches of slap to get there. I even wore false eyelashes! The make up artist said I could carry them off and that all I had to do was trust her when she applied the glue and stuck on these things that made my eyes smoky and subtle! Even Faye thought it was just good mascara.
Faye's hair was amazing and it's an understatement to say that she looked like a princess. Her dress with the corset and big pouffed out bottom skirt is beyond words. The eyes did well up as soon as I saw the masterpiece hanging in the bridal changing room.
To be a maid of honour is the ultimate proof in how true and strong a friendship is. My duties on that day most definitely transcended all boundaries, taking the Faye and Debbie friendship to a whole new level. Let me begin with helping her into the dress.
Corsets are not easy things to put on. Being the only person without false nails I volunteered to do up the silk buttons. No easy feat. Poor Faye looked like she could barely breathe! Then came, with the help of Mrs Keane, getting the dress on and attaching it to the corset. Again this was not simple as it had to be facing a specific way. Once that challenge was complete we all looked in the mirror and to me it was perfect. But Faye had an inkling that something wasn't right. Minutes later Mrs Keane figured it out.
You know in Victorian period dramas where the elite ladies have these gorgeous dresses that cinch in at the waist and flares out at the hips? There is a prop for this: a hoop underlayer. Oh yes, I hung the hoop on the back of the door so that the three of us will not forget it - but we did. So after getting Faye into the corset and dress we discovered that we forgot the hoop which had to go on first. Off came the dress and into the hoop. Thankfully the corset got to stay on.
The next major boundary was when Chris's mum presented Faye with these beautiful earrings, a surprise present from the Groom (just when we can't get any more jealous!) and I helped put them on. You can imagine my shock when I dropped the butterfly clasp of the second earring DOWN Faye's corset. Taking the corset off was not an option so fulfilling my all important MOH role, I put my hands up the corset searching for the clasp. It didn't help that Faye and I were laughing that hard. So much so that the clasp moved around to the back. In the end she got married with one unsecured earring. Tip to all future MOHs: unintentionally feeling up your best friend is all part of the job description!
My MOH duties did not stop after the ceremony. I held up her dress at the restaurant, through the hotel and of course the loo breaks. It had to be done. The mission involved me holding the dress and backing into the toilet as Faye followed me in. There are officially no more secrets between Faye and I.
Would I do it all again tomorrow? You can bet on it. Being a maid of honour, Faye's MOH, will remain as one of the best jobs I have ever done. I look forward to the next time I become a Wing Woman to one of my friend's big day.
The day began with Faye, Mrs Keane and I getting our hair and make up done at this fancy salon at The Wynn. Now Sod's Law would have it that my spots decided to make a united appearance that morning. But thanks to the power of a foundation spray machine, lots of concealer and the skill of the make up artist my face ended up looking flawless. OK so maybe it took three inches of slap to get there. I even wore false eyelashes! The make up artist said I could carry them off and that all I had to do was trust her when she applied the glue and stuck on these things that made my eyes smoky and subtle! Even Faye thought it was just good mascara.
Faye's hair was amazing and it's an understatement to say that she looked like a princess. Her dress with the corset and big pouffed out bottom skirt is beyond words. The eyes did well up as soon as I saw the masterpiece hanging in the bridal changing room.
To be a maid of honour is the ultimate proof in how true and strong a friendship is. My duties on that day most definitely transcended all boundaries, taking the Faye and Debbie friendship to a whole new level. Let me begin with helping her into the dress.
Corsets are not easy things to put on. Being the only person without false nails I volunteered to do up the silk buttons. No easy feat. Poor Faye looked like she could barely breathe! Then came, with the help of Mrs Keane, getting the dress on and attaching it to the corset. Again this was not simple as it had to be facing a specific way. Once that challenge was complete we all looked in the mirror and to me it was perfect. But Faye had an inkling that something wasn't right. Minutes later Mrs Keane figured it out.
You know in Victorian period dramas where the elite ladies have these gorgeous dresses that cinch in at the waist and flares out at the hips? There is a prop for this: a hoop underlayer. Oh yes, I hung the hoop on the back of the door so that the three of us will not forget it - but we did. So after getting Faye into the corset and dress we discovered that we forgot the hoop which had to go on first. Off came the dress and into the hoop. Thankfully the corset got to stay on.
The next major boundary was when Chris's mum presented Faye with these beautiful earrings, a surprise present from the Groom (just when we can't get any more jealous!) and I helped put them on. You can imagine my shock when I dropped the butterfly clasp of the second earring DOWN Faye's corset. Taking the corset off was not an option so fulfilling my all important MOH role, I put my hands up the corset searching for the clasp. It didn't help that Faye and I were laughing that hard. So much so that the clasp moved around to the back. In the end she got married with one unsecured earring. Tip to all future MOHs: unintentionally feeling up your best friend is all part of the job description!
My MOH duties did not stop after the ceremony. I held up her dress at the restaurant, through the hotel and of course the loo breaks. It had to be done. The mission involved me holding the dress and backing into the toilet as Faye followed me in. There are officially no more secrets between Faye and I.
Would I do it all again tomorrow? You can bet on it. Being a maid of honour, Faye's MOH, will remain as one of the best jobs I have ever done. I look forward to the next time I become a Wing Woman to one of my friend's big day.
Grand Canyon: doesn't get any bigger or beautiful than this
I experienced True Love on October 2 2010, a day where the temperature peaked at 36 degrees Celsius and I got to sit on the edge of one of the greatest natural wonders of the world: the Grand Canyon.
Though I was amongst hundreds of visitors all ooh-ing and aah-ing over the many shades and layers of orange, yellow, brown rock I experienced something that I have not felt for a long time: pure silence and total appreciation of just being in the moment. How on earth did I get to be this lucky? That day all I did was watch in awe, sit for what felt like hours watching the sun go down and laugh at my damn good fortune.
Just when I thought the view could not get any better, I stepped onto the Skywalk. This is a semi-circular steel extension that sticks out from a huge boulder complete with a glass floor. So it feels like you’re walking on air. Word of advice: anyone with even a remote fear of heights, DO NOT LOOK DOWN. I caused a minor panic when I sat on the metal railing. One of the photographers quickly told me to get off as there was a slight chance I could split the plastic partition. Yes, I neither wanted to be there when it happens or be held responsible!
I met some lovely people on this visit, particularly Shardae and Simone from New Zealand. These ladies are awesome, fearless, adventurous and incredibly beautiful – both on the inside and out. If it weren’t for them I would not have turned up at the MGM Wet Republic pool party the next day.
Shardae and Simone caught the eyes of three middle aged Chinese men who wore suits to the Canyon. Yours truly acted as their translator and photographer. Shardae and Simone made their when they agreed to have their picture taken with them. At Guamo Point, where you get a 270 degree panoramic view of the Canyon, I bumped into the Chinese Trio again who insisted that I meet up with them at the Bellagio for a night of gambling. Now I have previously mentioned that one of my win-quick-at-Vegas schemes is to find and tag onto a table with Asian men and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t tempted by their offer. But when the moment came, I chickened out. After all, I’m alone and without knowing their full intentions, it is simply asking for trouble.
Another girl I met on the Canyon was Sophie from Australia. She was on her own after her family was struck with food poisoning the night before. She’s another great girl who I hope to meet up if and when I eventually get to Australia.
For me, like South Africa and Robben Island, no visit to Las Vegas would be complete without a trip to the Grand Canyon. Back in my uni days I used to joke that I would like my ashes to be scattered here. Having finally been there, done that and got the certificate, maybe it’s time to stop joking.
So not only did I get to witness and fall in love with the ultimate form of natural beauty, I met great people, with whom I hope to stay in contact for a long time. Funnily enough, three years ago, a palm reader in Johannesburg said that my spirit sees True Love in life’s natural things. Sitting on the edge of the West Rim, standing thousands of feet above the Colorado River on a glass bottom as well as on top of the hill at Guamo Point, proved this is more ways than one.
Though I was amongst hundreds of visitors all ooh-ing and aah-ing over the many shades and layers of orange, yellow, brown rock I experienced something that I have not felt for a long time: pure silence and total appreciation of just being in the moment. How on earth did I get to be this lucky? That day all I did was watch in awe, sit for what felt like hours watching the sun go down and laugh at my damn good fortune.
Just when I thought the view could not get any better, I stepped onto the Skywalk. This is a semi-circular steel extension that sticks out from a huge boulder complete with a glass floor. So it feels like you’re walking on air. Word of advice: anyone with even a remote fear of heights, DO NOT LOOK DOWN. I caused a minor panic when I sat on the metal railing. One of the photographers quickly told me to get off as there was a slight chance I could split the plastic partition. Yes, I neither wanted to be there when it happens or be held responsible!
I met some lovely people on this visit, particularly Shardae and Simone from New Zealand. These ladies are awesome, fearless, adventurous and incredibly beautiful – both on the inside and out. If it weren’t for them I would not have turned up at the MGM Wet Republic pool party the next day.
Shardae and Simone caught the eyes of three middle aged Chinese men who wore suits to the Canyon. Yours truly acted as their translator and photographer. Shardae and Simone made their when they agreed to have their picture taken with them. At Guamo Point, where you get a 270 degree panoramic view of the Canyon, I bumped into the Chinese Trio again who insisted that I meet up with them at the Bellagio for a night of gambling. Now I have previously mentioned that one of my win-quick-at-Vegas schemes is to find and tag onto a table with Asian men and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t tempted by their offer. But when the moment came, I chickened out. After all, I’m alone and without knowing their full intentions, it is simply asking for trouble.
Another girl I met on the Canyon was Sophie from Australia. She was on her own after her family was struck with food poisoning the night before. She’s another great girl who I hope to meet up if and when I eventually get to Australia.
For me, like South Africa and Robben Island, no visit to Las Vegas would be complete without a trip to the Grand Canyon. Back in my uni days I used to joke that I would like my ashes to be scattered here. Having finally been there, done that and got the certificate, maybe it’s time to stop joking.
So not only did I get to witness and fall in love with the ultimate form of natural beauty, I met great people, with whom I hope to stay in contact for a long time. Funnily enough, three years ago, a palm reader in Johannesburg said that my spirit sees True Love in life’s natural things. Sitting on the edge of the West Rim, standing thousands of feet above the Colorado River on a glass bottom as well as on top of the hill at Guamo Point, proved this is more ways than one.
Saturday 23 October 2010
Las Vegas Part 1: A long introduction
So I know why they call it Sin City... because Las Vegas is the one place where you can drop your guard, lower your inhibitions, drink on the street, gamble 24/7 without any judgement and best of all, leave all your problems whatever they may be at home just have fun.
Six days in Vegas was all it took. 144ish hours spent enjoying the sun, drinking cocktails at noon by the hotel pool, doing one too many tequila shots with the Best Man and two Oklahoma guys at an Irish bar and of course, watching my best friend Faye become Mrs Dabek. I befriended people from the world over as well as attended a pool party where I was surrounded by hot topless men. Viva Las Vegas indeed!
Las Vegas is loud, bright and fabulous. I don’t think I came across any one in a bad mood. It’s almost as if as soon as you go through immigration at the airport, you leave your worries, your sorrows and all your issues at baggage claim. Once you exit McCarran airport and the Nevada heat hits you, the bright lights of the Strip already luring you to come hither, cue the excitement.
At night is where Las Vegas really comes alive. All walks of life are on the Strip, you’ll never feel in danger and everyone wants to be your friend. It’s also ridiculously cheap. It is the ideal place to come if you’re solo travelling. Before the arrival of the Dabek-Keane clan, I was on my own for the first two nights. By that point I had befriended two ladies from New Zealand, three middle aged Chinese men who invited me to the Bellagio for a night of gambling (more on that later), a pair from Puerto Rico and even the valet team at the Hard Rock. I was never alone and for all dear readers out there who have always wanted to go to Vegas, do it. You will never be alone for too long. Everyone is there for a good time. So smile, laugh, drink, gamble, go with it. Viva Las Vegas indeed!
Six days in Vegas was all it took. 144ish hours spent enjoying the sun, drinking cocktails at noon by the hotel pool, doing one too many tequila shots with the Best Man and two Oklahoma guys at an Irish bar and of course, watching my best friend Faye become Mrs Dabek. I befriended people from the world over as well as attended a pool party where I was surrounded by hot topless men. Viva Las Vegas indeed!
Las Vegas is loud, bright and fabulous. I don’t think I came across any one in a bad mood. It’s almost as if as soon as you go through immigration at the airport, you leave your worries, your sorrows and all your issues at baggage claim. Once you exit McCarran airport and the Nevada heat hits you, the bright lights of the Strip already luring you to come hither, cue the excitement.
And was I excited. A lot of the Vegas experience comes from where you stay. The big casinos are towns and cities unto itself. Literally you can visit the Statue of Liberty, have dinner at the Eiffel Tower and ride on the Gondala at the Venetian all in one day.
I stayed in three places: Motel 6, Hard Rock Hotel and the Bellagio. Lets start with Motel 6. Had I known that it was literally opposite the airport I would have saved on the $11 cab fare on the first night! You should have seen the driver’s face when he asked me: “You sure you want the Motel 6 on Tropicana Avenue?” I actually thought the worst in that Oh no, is this place a dump?
To call it a dump is a tad too harsh to be honest. You know in the Hangover where the guys track down the stripper with a heart whose baby they found in their hotel suite? Or the shabby room that the brothers from My Name Is Earl rent? Motel 6 is exactly like that. It’s not particularly attractive but two nights at a total $104, you can’t go wrong. Walking down a dark, dirt road to get to my block wasn’t the most appealing (not my fault this time Ames!) especially at one point where I was convinced I was going to be caught in the middle of a crossfire as just like in a movie there were these two black SUVs slowly approaching each other – with me in the middle!
So anyways, my first Vegas night was spent inside my Motel 6 room due to jetlag as well as a 5am wake up call for the Grand Canyon. Another reason was turning on the TV to find George Clooney’s Up In The Air just starting. Clearly Mama wasn’t going anywhere! The second night’s sleep, after a 2am puking session outside the main entrance as a result of one too many tequilas, was a blank. But I still remember the pain in forcing myself to get out of the room at 11am to check out, drag my suitcase down one flight of stairs and along the dirt road where I am sure I was still unconscious.
Onwards to the next hotel – Hard Rock. This was definitely a big improvement from Motel 6. The King sized bed with its six pillows, access all areas to the spa and the faux beach pool area? Hello! I would also like to thank the hotel personally for the saviour that is the purple sofa in the main reception where I sat for three hours with my sunglasses on nursing my tequila hangover while waiting for my room to come available. It was much needed. The only downside to the Hard Rock is that it is a good 25 minute walk to the main Strip. Walking back at night is not impossible but on all occasions I’ve had cab drivers pull up insisting that I do not walk alone as well as one mall assistant personally escorting me to the nearest cab. You don’t get that kind of service back home!
After the Hard Rock came the Bellagio. It was money well spent for my last night in Vegas. The bathroom alone was the size of my bedroom back home. The shower could easily fit six people. At the press of a button, the TV comes out of the entertainment unit and turns at 45 degree angles. The concierge even bring up your luggage for you. Seriously! From my bedroom window I could see the famous fountains as well as a giant billboard of Donny and Marie Osmond. (My mum got very, very excited when she thought I saw them live.) But the Bellagio is all about the fountains. I probably spent in total one hour watching the spectacular display. Anybody who goes to Vegas must witness the fountains. The arrangements are out of this world and the finale where the water shoots in synchronised motion will stay with you always. Each display has its own special song. The three that comes to mind are: Elvis Presley’s Viva Las Vegas, Sarah Brightman and Andrea Bocelli’s operatic Time To Say Goodbye and The Star Spangled Banner aka the US national anthem to which at one point I referred to as the US version of God Save The Queen!
At night is where Las Vegas really comes alive. All walks of life are on the Strip, you’ll never feel in danger and everyone wants to be your friend. It’s also ridiculously cheap. It is the ideal place to come if you’re solo travelling. Before the arrival of the Dabek-Keane clan, I was on my own for the first two nights. By that point I had befriended two ladies from New Zealand, three middle aged Chinese men who invited me to the Bellagio for a night of gambling (more on that later), a pair from Puerto Rico and even the valet team at the Hard Rock. I was never alone and for all dear readers out there who have always wanted to go to Vegas, do it. You will never be alone for too long. Everyone is there for a good time. So smile, laugh, drink, gamble, go with it. Viva Las Vegas indeed!
Monday 18 October 2010
I'm baaaaaaack!
I'm also exhausted and in need of some much needed nutrition but I also have so many stories for all you dear readers. This blog is still well and truly alive. Over the next few (or dozen) entries, I will reveal every wonderful, romantic, magnificently beautiful and delicious moment I encountered in Las Vegas, Vancouver, Montreal and New York. Oh and as this is me, please try and not laugh too hard or loud at the couple of disasters I managed to get involved in! Also FYI, I did NOT get married in Vegas too.
Friday 1 October 2010
Leaving for Las Vegas
The day is finally here. In less than seven hours I will on a plane heading west to Las Vegas for the fifth and final wedding of 2010. I am both excited and petrified of what will happen over the next two weeks. I can’t wait to see the Grand Canyon, Brooklyn Bridge and of course being there to see Faye becoming Mrs Dabek! Of course naturally I’m scared of being out there on my own for the first and final two days of the trip but that’s a good thing as from experience, the happiest I’ve ever been is on my own in a strange place. Who knows what kind of adventures (or rather more appropriately, shenanigans) I get up to but be sure, dear readers you will read about it.
I can tell you now that I will NOT be getting married myself, despite how great a twist it will be to this story.
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