dom, chris, woz and nate

nate took a little convincing at first

spectators

Nate's first dip didn't prove to be very successful as he got upset almost immediately so Woz retreated to the shore so he could watch other people going in and get used to the idea.

oh i do like to be beside the seaside ...

The days have been beautifully warm now for a few weeks and today was no exception. I'm not sure exactly how warm it ended up but with a forecast of 26 degrees Woz and I decided to take the train down to Brighton beach.

We had a fantastic day and Nate absolutely loved it. We spent the morning on the pebbled beach chilling out and dipping in the waves then after lunch Nate fell asleep in his buggy so Woz and I were able to wander through the narrow lanes that lead to all sorts of nooks and crannies in the town centre. There was no end of knick knacky shops which I loved browsing through and always do but never actually buy anything as doing so would be slightly incongruent to our minimalistic home. We did however visit a Lego store complete with incredibly detailed displays whereby I squealed with delight on a number of occasions (there was even a model of the Louvre with a painting of the Mona Lisa who had yellow Lego face, enigmatic smile and crossed Lego hands). I later remarked it was a good thing that every time we'd visited Denmark in the past, Legoland was closed as my excitement could possibly have been a little too much for Woz to bear and would almost certainly have resulted me being kicked out.

The beach was absolutely packed with sun revellers and few swimmers, and so walking along the incredibly busy boulevard with a buggy and not hitting people was no easy feat. On one occasion a lady who jumped out of our way, then in turn tripped over her own child. Her husband, seeing his daughter fall shouted at his wife, 'Oh carm on Simone!' That's an Aussie accent we thought. A familiar one too. We looked up and saw it was Shane Warne shouting to his wife/ex-wife. Well, we're not really sure of their current relationship but they may be on shaky ground after that little incident. (Now I really hope someone doesn't accidentally Google search this entry and turn what was intended as a funny little anecdote for family and friends into full scale ammunition for reporters everywhere to announce their imminent re-separation).

Anyway, all in all, a great day was had, although our soft Aussie feet are a little worse for wear having trodden on pebbles all day. That might sound a bit weak, but it was incredibly painful! Sand anyone?

Videos to follow, tried to upload them tonight but 'computer says no ...'

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nate and woz

the english way

dodging the waves

By mid afternoon it was time to head home, on the motorbike along the coast. We stopped off at a bustling Belgian seaside town which owing to it's highrise beachside apartments Woz described as 'Surfers Paradise crawling with Europeans'. We had just enough time to peel off our leathers, go for a walk along the beach, dip our toes in the ocean and then jump back on the bike towards Calais to catch the train home.

the church graveyard

tour of brugge via the canal

The Tour Guide on the boat translated his tour into three different languages, English, French and then Flemish.

tour de sale

When we are in Australia, Woz and I have foolishly signed up for the Slog to Sale which is a 160km charity bike ride. Of course we're a shoe-in to be the first two to complete the ride, given that we haven't ridden a bike for almost three years and are naturally lazy when it comes to exercise for exercise sake.

We thought we'd get some training in while we were in Belgium ... 5 km's oughta do it right?

damme

On Sunday morning we rode our bikes out of Brugge to a small town called Damme. It was a 5km ride bordering
the surrounding farmland and absolutely picture perfect. The town itself wasn't that special. A beautiful quaint little farming villiage but it paled in comparison to the grandeour of it's neighbour, Brugge. It did however have a church tower with a spiraling stone staircase leading up to an incredible view.

Maggie had told us about the ride and also given us directions to ride the extra 13 km to the border where we could cross over into the Netherlands. It was tempting, and had we done it we would have entered four countries in one day, but we decided to enjoy Belgium and ride back to Brugge for a boat ride along the canal.

self portrait

posing

still life

bed and breakfast

We found a B & B in town which was run by a lovely wee Scottish lady named Maggie. She was so helpful and considerate and we felt right at home there - she even offered for Woz to bring his motorbike into her foyer area for the two days we were there rather than leave it on the street!

The room was very cheap and had so much character, ours on the top floor with stained glass windows overlooking a garden on the other side of the street.

on the bike

riding the push bikes through town

when in brugge ...

By late afternoon having walked all over the city we decided to do as the locals do (and the thousands of tourists) and ride a bicycle. For just 10 euros each we were able to hire two bikes for 24 hours which opened up so much more of the city to us. We could have taken our motorbike, but it was so hot we couldn't face putting on our leathers and the option of jumping on and off the bicycles on a whim sounded too good to resist.

grote markt

woz's 'blue steel' look

antique market

brugge

On Saturday afternoon around lunchtime we arrived in Brugge and fell in love with it from the moment we reached the outskirts of the city. It's Gothic beauty is unparallelled by any of the European cities we've visited in the past. Brugge has been virtually untouched since the middle ages and is by far the most well preserved city we've seen, with not a single Starbucks or Mc Donald's to be found. The canal carves its way through the city through stone houses, churches and shops. Everywhere we looked was another breathtakingly beautiful building, so many that we forgot to capture them on film.

There are so many languages spoken in Brugge it was almost a little disconcerting. Usually when we travel my brain works overtime reading signs, listening to conversations, scanning for words that are familiar to me, and it is always comforting when I feel that I'm able to understand a little of my environment. Here, French, Flemish, Dutch and English seemed to be spoken so we avoided meltdown and took the easy option, English.

a first for us

Thanks to our very gracious friends Duncan and Rejieli, this weekend Woz and I had our first weekend away baby-free. We dropped Nate off on Friday night and put him to sleep in their flat, then walked home to what felt like a very quiet and empty boat and set our alarm for 5am the next morning so that we could ride our motorbike to Folkstone, catch the train across to France and then ride through to Belgium. We made the most of every minute and it seemed like we packed a week into two days. We came home exhausted but re-energised at the same time ... (and missing our little boy).

would you trust this face?

As we are travelling to Australia in a few months we are in the process of applying for an Australian passport for Nate. (It would be a shame to make him line up by himself with all the foreigners at Customs). We have been taking every opportunity to take a passport photo, a process which is very tedious as the guidelines are incredibly strict; the photo must show the child or baby awake, looking straight at the camera with mouth closed, without any hair across the eyes, without any shadows behind their head or parent's hands visible.

While he can now stand against the wall of his own accord, I have to hold him to stop him from walking away, towards the coveted camera. The hardest part however is to get him to look straight at the camera with mouth closed as the minute he sees it he starts to giggle and reach towards it.

This photo was taken last night while he was in his pajamas. We didn't really think about it at the time but looking at the photo now all he needs is some arrows on his pajamas and some leg irons and he will look like a regular little convict. You never know, it might improve his chances of getting in, because everyone knows Australia is entirely populated by criminals.

candid camera

le tour de france

Today Woz and I walked to Hyde Park to see the Tour de France Prologue.

After close to six weeks of rain and overcast days, today was a welcome change with the sun gracing us for the majority of the day. Londoners far and wide flocked to the city's parks to celebrate and bask in the sun after such a long wait and the added entertainment factor brought the crowds streaming in.

The route began at Whitehall and cut through St. James's Park, Green Park, Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens, finishing up at The Mall. We camped at different points along the way, moseying our way around the circut and soaking up the atmosphere.

The European Summer is so different to the Australian one, and to be honest it doesn't even need to be sunny in order to enjoy the long light evenings and early mornings, rich, green trees transforming the landscape and pubs with colourful flower laden baskets hanging from their eaves whose patrons spill out onto the street. When it is sunny, the parks are the place to be, all of which are beautifully green spaces scattered with deck chairs and bikini clad or shirtless sun revellers.

Having said that I'm extremely grateful that we have been given a momentary glimpse of the sun and hope and pray that it wont be long before it pays us a visit again.

the green green grass

hyde park

wet wet wet

Firstly I must begin by conveying my sincerest apologies to those of you who have been getting a teensy bit frustrated at our lack of correspondence of late. Given that I am a mature and emotionally intelligent woman I am going to of course resort to blame, and what best to blame than the English weather? Already a month into Summer and it has been an absolute wash out. I can't remember the time we last had a dry and sunny day from start to finish. My feet which have been clothed in flip flops/thongs for the last two months out of dogged determination as if their very presence should bring about Summer, have somehow managed to tan nicely, while the rest of my body remains white as the driven snow.


So, needless to say, the reason we haven't written anything for weeks is because we have had absolutely nothing exciting to report. A poor excuse I know and it all seems a little trivial now in light of some of the events that have unfolded this week; severe flooding all over the country resulting in the loss of lives, Tony Blair standing down and handing over the baton to Gordon Brown who on his first day at the office had to handle a terrorist attack on the capital and on day two another in Glasgow and on a lighter note, tomorrow the pub-going, smoking public will be forced to smoke outdoors as all pubs and bars become smoke free.

The times they are a changin'.

summer solstice at the royal albert hall

birthday boy

Our baby boy turned one on Friday! They say it goes quickly but my goodness how it flies.

I remember from the moment we brought him home and the reality of no sleep, a non responsive newborn and almost constant breastfeeding set in it seemed like an eternity as we counted down the days until he reached the six week mark and things became a little more manageable. From that moment on it seems to have passed in the blink of an eye and every day cherished.

On Saturday we celebrated Nate's birthday with a very low key affair. An intimate afternoon tea with a small group of friends at the park complete with honey joys, fairy bread and Nana's famous walnut slice. A total of four kids (including Nate) and seven adults.

Naturally, Nate was oblivious to the fact we were all there on his account but thoroughly enjoyed himself, playing in the sandpit with his friends (and surrogate aunties and uncles) and being pushed around by Woz on all the bikes, cars and trolleys.

Thank you to Vicki and Andrew for taking photos of the day, to everyone who sent birthday wishes via e-mail or by post and those who spoilt him (or us) with a present.

We still can't believe he's ours to keep.

c'mon aussie c'mon

Last week Nate was granted Australian citizenship by descent. The news came in the mail from Australia House in London, in the form of a beautiful certificate for him which will be 'goin' strayt to the pool room'. To celebrate there have been no end of festivities.

On Saturday Woz and Nate spent the day together and so after their normal swim at the pool Woz took Nate for a walk to Regents Park to see his first game of Aussie Rules. After a few weeks of dismal weather it was a beautifully warm day and perfect for lazing around at the park.


Perhaps the highlight of the festivities for Nate has been his first sample of vegemite toast. Something which he will need to develop a taste for if he expects to be taken seriously as an Australian.

After Nate's recent development in mimicking our words with incredible accuracy we're now working on teaching him his first phrase ... 'guday mayt' .... perhaps a little easier than the English equivalent of 'alright guvner?'.

summer time

adventure is seriously overated

There's just no way to sugar coat this. Our weekend sucked.

Thursday night wasn't so bad and we got off to a relatively good start, arriving at Victoria Park after nightfall, finding a beautiful place to moor along side the park. Woz went to work the next day and I spent the day in the park with Nate.

On Friday night Woz and Adam met Nate and I at the boat by late afternoon and not long after we were off. It was another warm night and so things were looking up until we broke down at a lock in Tottenham. Woz tried his best to determine the problem and after several hours of having tried a number of things we all went to bed. Ever the problem solver Woz was understandably frustrated and instructed Adam and I that if we saw any boats pass, no matter what condition, to swap.

The following morning we finally got going again and things were looking up, that is until it started raining ......... and raining, and raining and raining. We had to make a decision - either stop and sit the rain out in the warmth of a pub which would mean that we wouldn't reach the beautiful scenery and villages we'd been told about, or persevere in order to arrive in Hertford the following day. We persevered.

By nightfall, tired, cold and with dampening spirits we arrived at Stansted Abbots and trundled off to the local pub for dinner which was a welcome relief from the unrelenting locks and served to cheer us up a little.

The following day the weather only became more miserable, and to make matters worse, our gearbox failed giving us the option of going flat out or not going at all. This meant that in order to avoid smashing into the locks or other boats we would have to cut the engine a good distance before reaching them in order for the boat to have slowed down enough not to wreak havoc everything we came in contact with. This also meant that we weren't able to steer the boat and so had to rely on brute force to keep it from hitting the sides of the locks as we approached them.

By mid afternoon we finally reached Hertford and found a place to moor for the night. We walked a short distance along the canal to a canal side pub for lunch and the three of us reminisced on the 'good times' we had enjoyed on the trip. Nope, couldn't think of any. Well no, that's not true, it was great to catch up with Tinks, and he was an absolute Godsend as far as Woz was concerned. helping him with every lock and always with a smile on his face. He and Woz had beaten the river and all the weather could throw at them - no small feat.

Understandably, Tinks decided to head back to London that night and so after a leisurely lunch we walked him to the station. We watched him with envy as he bought a ticket back to Central London. How we wished we could do the same. If only our home wasn’t trapped in the middle of nowhere with only one way home.

After leaving Tinks, we decided we’d explore the village we’d worked so hard to reach. We headed off in the drizzle and traipsed our soggy boots across the village in search of something, anything that would make this trip worthwhile. We found a tourist map which showed a castle in the midst of the town. This was the first bit of excitement we’d had and so we headed towards it with our camera at the ready. This was the icing on the cake (or at least we thought so, little did we know what the rest of the weekend had in store for us) as the “castle” had been entirely rebuilt and was a redbrick building with castle like bricks running along the top. It looked like it had been constructed in the last decade not the last century and was oozing about as much culture as the tub of cream in our unrefrigerated refrigerator after two days of no power.

Deciding to go home at that point wasn’t really a discussion, more like an unspoken agreement to ‘get the hell out of here and back to civilisation’ caught in a single glance. Besides, words really couldn’t describe our disappointment.

That night in the pouring rain, while I fed, bathed and put Nate to bed by candlelight, Woz made a head start on our unimaginably long journey home. After about three hours we called it a night and set our alarm for 6am the following morning. Tomorrow was Monday and we had one day to make it home in time for Woz to return to work on Tuesday. A good night's sleep was essential if we were going to make it through the huge day that lay ahead of us.

I got a 3 am wake up call and ran to the bathroom to throw up the contents of my dinner, which began 24 hours of curling up in the foetal position whenever possible, wincing with pain and running to the bathroom in between.

Soaked to the bone, hands red raw from gripping wet ropes without relent and growing weariness, Woz single-handedly navigated us through every single lock and with dogged determination we were home by 5.30 pm. It hadn’t been uneventful by any means, in just 36 hours we had received a months rainfall causing the water level on the river to rise 150 mm which meant that we tore our chimney off under a bridge we had navigated with ease on the way there.

The journey home which was supposed to take four days had taken us 15 hours and every minute an ordeal.

Needless to say, it was the first and last long distance trip we'll take on our boat. It would have been an entirely different trip if we'd had beautiful weather but either way, the 48 locks we had to pass through to get to Hertford and back were enough to turn us off for life.

If we never see the inside of another lock again it will be too soon.

cheesy, but had to be done!

have boat will travel

Back in the days when we were waiting for my passport to be returned, Woz and I were itching to travel and with no idea of how long my passport would be held, we decided that we'd do a trip away on the boat. This coming Monday is a bank holiday so we're going to to head out tomorrow afternoon and will return on Monday night. The beauty of it is that we can go as far as we like and then pull up anywhere and moor for the night. I love it! No packing, no preparation required.

The exciting part is that a friend of mine from Melbourne who I studied Auslan with, Adam (otherwise known as Tinks), is arriving in London on Friday and is going to come with us! Growing up, holidays were always so much fun when you had friends with you and for me the novelty hasn't worn off. We had already planned to take the boat out and happened to be chatting to Tinks online this week while he was in Scotland. When he mentioned that he was coming down to London on Friday we invited him to come with us and the rest is history!

Of course he thinks he's coming on a quaint little holiday in the English countryside on a canal boat but really we'll be putting him to work on the boat, helping us out with the millions of locks we'll come across as we head towards the River Lee.

Update: Slight change of plans. The weather on Sunday looks a bit iffy and as it is a beautifully warm night we've decided to get a headstart and leave tonight. Woz can take the tube into work from where we stop and I will be able to hang out with Nate in new surroundings. Adventure here we come!

come fly with me

It only took five months but finally my application for Indefinite Leave to Remain has been approved.

No more nightmares of being woken by a dawn raid and hurried out the door with all I could carry, leaving my family behind, to be put on the next plane out of the country, no more memorising favourite colours, allergies and face creams on the off chance that we're called to an impromptu green card interview, no more of Woz's incessant mumblings in his sleep ....

'Oil of Olan, oil of Ulan .... Olay!'

Most importantly however, all dramatics aside, they have returned my passport so we can think about travelling again. I feel like I've been given my wings back!

meanwhile on the working front

I got a chance to pull my heels out of the dark recesses of the cupboard this week as I was asked to come in to work for three days. I took them up on two of them and really enjoyed it.

My first lesson was a rude awakening to using a part of my brain I don't recall ever using. I had to accompany a student to a lesson in GCSE (Yr 11) Maths and then GCSE Physics on our mainstream campus. As the student was fairly oral I didn't have to sign for her during the lesson but instead found myself 'helping' her with the coursework. I failed Maths with flying colours in high school and have a feeling that I achieved a similar result in Science so I am a little disturbed thinking about what influence I may have had on her work.

Returning to work after having Nate has been a topic of much internal debate as I have had to realign my thinking on how I value myself. It is only in recent months that I have been able to totally enjoy my new 'job' looking after Nate and have decided not to chase work but to take it up when it is available and only when it means using BSL. I will definitely have more opportunities at my previous work to go back from time to time and am looking into some other casual work that will mean I can keep my hand in while still concentrating on Nate. This week was a good trial of things to come. Being the product of two fiercely independent parents, and being raised to be so himself, Nate is incredibly confident and independent so I had no trouble leaving him with a friend.

Woz, on the other hand is still loving his job and enjoying the benefits of next to no travel time and flexible working hours. Today he's slogging it out on a team building day, playing paint ball. Poor thing.