Palolem.

So Palolem; Palolem is an idyllic yet touristic paradise. The sea is blue and warm like a bath, the sand is soft and gets stuck between your toes. The atmosphere is that of a festival: people you've just met treat you like you've known them forever, you can drink with them, smoke with them or in our case discuss the Jewish religion in depth.
As I have already mentioned we met two Israeli people named Maor and Michelle at the beginning of our time in Palolem. They, as our neighbours introduced us to the lively social scene of the town. I've come back (out of Palolem) with a slight Israeli style accent, the trick is to roll the 'r' in your throat, which sounds like you're coughing up phlegm but in a sexy way.
So we were introduced to Eda, Rama and Slava to name a few along with Maor and Michelle we found that they were all incredibly friendly and all exceptionally stoned. They taught me two things; you can roll an unpatriotic spliff (the how I don't know- it's a spliff with a paper coming out of it like a flag, you then burn the flag voila- the defiance of patrioism) and that the Israeli song 'Disco Disco Partizani' is Aymayzing. In my opinion it's the soundtrack to three weeks in Palolem.
We stayed there for so long because of everything that we experienced. Our typical routine being breakfast, swim, sunbathe, dinner and then alcohol (or alcohol throughout the day whilst doing all of the other things!) We both learnt how to relax in a way we never have before, all of the stresses from my previous life disintegrated with the sound of the ocean and the rays of the sun. I have honestly never felt so good.
We stayed in a rickety old beach hut with no hot water, frequent power cuts and many visits from various amphibians/ cockroaches. It was liberating, we had no mirror apart from a tiny compact so body image for the both of us managed to be less precedent than usual.
The owner of our beach hut was never seen, instead, Niall a 15 year old 'badass' took care of us. He called me darling and constantly stole cigarettes. He was nice though, and funny. Dil - one of the boys who worked for the other huts became our friend, he called me sister and brought me flowers that he stolen from a garden. Very cute. There was also Karnataka, the little old man in the shop and 'Papaya, banana, coconut' man. All lovely, all very accepting of our British ways.
We have come out of Palolem as a typical traveller does. Tanned, wearing lots of jewellery (sandalwood especially and trinkets bought off a girl on the beach named Singhitta), henna on our wrists and ankles and a little bit more in touch with ourselves.
Palolem is definitely my favourite place that I have been to so far in my life. So I carry on with my journey with a fond sadness, ready for new experiences but sad to leave this amazing place.

लीर्निंग कर्वे

This is what I have discovered whilst in India;

1. Be prepared for people to stare at you- constantly. Prepare to feel like a celebrity, prepare for large groups of little children and middle class families to ask for pictures with you. Prepare for young teenage boys to try to take a picture with you whilst you're in a bikini.
2. Boys cannot handle hard mattresses.
3. Cows will approach you whereever you are. Keep an eye out for angry cows when you are relaxing on the beach. Three will be upon you before you know it.
4. Mosquitoes love eating.
5. Hebrew to English translated jokes just aren't funny.
6. Reptiles love beach huts. Frogs and lizards especially.
7. Generally, Indian people are quite small.
8. You will get hassled continuously by numerous people. If you say a ridiculously low price they will generally go away.

9. If you are invited into a yoga teachers bedroom do not go. If you go into the bedroom you will be forced to answer a questionnaire in silence about your philosophies of life. If you do happen to do this avoid the yoga teacher in question for the rest of your trip.

10. Avoid dogs.

11. If you are a meat eater expect to see your dinner wandering the streets, cows, pigs and chickens live an organic free life - eating anything they can find anywhere they can find it.

12. You will get fed up of Indian food after a week. This is a dire circumstance.

13. Taking public transport is like going on an Alton Towers rollercoaster without the safety apparatus.

14. I have always been able to roll cigarettes.

15. Indian cigarettes hurt your body like no others.

16. Indian beer makes your stomach go a little bit funny.

17. Power cuts are always going to happen when you're trying to do something important. Shaving your legs is difficult in the dark.

18. Indian people love fireworks. Far too much.

19. You are never too old for Pokemon or Mario. (There is now a pokemon called Finneon much to my amusement. My strongest Pokemon is level 37 and I have four gym badges)

20. When you feel a little bit sad there's nothing better than ringing your family and friends for a few brief words.

Goan Delight

I haven't posted in a while as I have turned into a lazy slob in Goa. It is literally paradise, the sun is always shining, it's so hot and the people are so nice. We arrived in Goa around a week and a half ago and began in a little place called Colva, it was nice but not really our scene- Indian families and middle aged Brits on tour. Pretty dull, our one bright spark in the light (apart from the heat, beach and everything!) was a lovely beach hut restaurant called Domnicks. I ate literally the best tuna of my life, Finn was incredibly jealous and I was incredibly happy and full of fish. We ate there for nearly every meal, trying a variety of seafood. One particularly memorable moment was sharing a very large Pomfret, very tasty and very fresh. Not as good as the tuna though! There's not much else in Colva so we left after four days and took a bus to Margao and then another bus to Palolem.

Now I have already talked about the crazy Indian road system by taxi/ rickshaw but the Indian road system by bus in different entirely. The journey from Colva to Margao was an eye opener, the bus from Margoa to Palolem was absolutely terrifying. Picture this; we get on the bus and put our heavy backpacks in the front with the driver, so far so good. Whilst waiting for the bus to leave we notice the bus conductor getting weed from the bus to deal on the side. So we're in a bus/ drug dealers lair. Strange. We waited for a good while for the entire bus to fill up, and then we began our epic journey to Palolem. Indian buses try to fit as many people on as possible. If you think you've been on a busy bus from your magic bus experience then you are mistaken. Every time we stopped they let more people on the bus. It was three to some seats, Finn had a very large mans crotch shoved in his face for the majority of the journey as there was literally no space for it to go anywhere else. So business aside, this packed bus starts to go at around 80 mph, tilting to the side every time it turned a corner, I was praying, I thought that this bus drive would be the end of me. On the upside the bus driver decided to play some banging Bollywood tunes blaring continuously out of the speakers (probably to cover up the peoples screams). Altogether fun, altogether terrifying!

We arrived in Palolem relatively unscathed- that was over a week ago. We're still here. I find it difficult to describe the wonders of Palolem. It is a beautiful beach, golden sands, palm trees and everything else that you'd expect. I'm currently sitting in an internet cafe listening to Bob Marley, whilst mosquitoes buzz around looking for blood. (they don't seem to have any of mine yet) Palolem is perfect, we're staying in a rickety beach hut that birds and coconuts seem to flock to when we're trying to sleep. I've never heard birds chirp so loud, they like to run across the straw and be a noisy as possible. There's also the pigs that just wander around like they own the place munching on any left over food, crisps packets etc that they can find. There's so many cute little piglets around, it's very strange! The hut has a shower that has four dribbles of icy cold water trickling out of it and nowhere for the water/dirt to go, therefore we have a little sandpit at the bottom of our bathroom. This probably sounds pretty shit, but it has the same atmosphere as a festival. Everybody is so nice and friendly, we're all in the same boat after all. It's like having your own tent pitched for you at a beach style Glastonbury. We've sat most nights with our neighbours, a couple from Israel, Maor and Michelle. They are very friendly and we've learnt a lot about their life and their religion. Israel sounds like a beautifully frightening country.

I hope this description helps you imagine our time, I would try to describe what we've been doing but it'd be one sentence- sitting in the sun all day, drinking at night, and this is all we've been doing in this beautiful, relaxing place in Paradise. I will try to update soon, you know when we've actually done something :) love to you all xxxx

Maharashtra madness

Mumbai is as harrowing as watching 'Boys don't Cry' repeatedly, beggars line the streets, rabid dogs roam and physically disabled people are rife. It is a strange experience. It is dirty and smelly BUT the overwhelming friendliness of the people that situate here makes up for every bad point that I can think of.

We arrived at the Anjali Inn hostel after a long flight. It's nice, clean and has air conditioning; a jewel in the dim surburbs of Andheri. Room rates aren't cheap but it's worth it. The sweltering heat leaves a constant desire for AC. We spent the first days trying to get used to the Indian culture, as a woman I'm constantly stared at which at first freaked me out, I didn't want to leave the hostel and tried to make the best of what I thought was a bad situation. I still felt bad on the second day but I decided to make the most of my time here and we set out on a mission to Juhu beach in a tuk-tuk - one of the scariest inventions known to man.

I'll take some time out from my dim reiteration of what I have been doing to explain the Indian road system... There is NO system. Instead of traffic lights there are little men with whistles standing in the middle of the road pointing and whistling. There are no lanes, and from what I can make out absolutely no rules whilst driving apart from one: you must beep incessently at every single thing on the road. I have been in both Tuk Tuk and taxi now and after each journey ends you emerge with a sweltering headache from the pollution of the city and the constant beep sound which I think now emerges in my sleep.

As you can imagine, with these road rules and in basically a three wheeled motorbike car with no seatbelts, this was a slightly precarious journey to the beach. Needless to say when we actually got there I realised that I wasn't ready for the SHEER volumes of people that were just, hanging out. I had a bit of a freak out (again) and refused to get out of the tuk tuk. I definitely annoyed Finn, but I'm pretty sure he's over it now!

Yesterday we set out into Mumbai city. I was filled with nervous anxiety. If the city was anything like the suburbs then I didn't want to be there. We went with Jon, our new friend which helped. Two men are better than one for protection from the volumes of Indian men with their big moustaches. We took a taxi ride to Mumbai, it took a long time and it was very very very hot and humid- headaches and sweat all round. As we approached Mumbai the view was different. It looked clean(ish), grand and immense. We took the taxi to 'The Gateway of India' and it was here my opinion changed. We were wandering round the crowds of people when different groups of Indian people kept coming up to us and wanting us to be in pictures with them. They were all so friendly, and so grateful to us that it stopped the awkwardness and became heartwarmingly cute. I dread to think how many pictures of us will be in Indian homes as 'a picture with the white people'. The kids were incredibly cute, I think I have fallen in love with Indian children, I'd like to adopt one eventually. They are absolutely adorable.

After this extreme action, we decided to take a tour to Elephanta Island. We bought our tickets and got on an old rickety boat. The journey was uneventful, my fear of getting kidnapped by Somalian pirates unneeded. When we arrived at the island my fears of India overtook me, masses of people, stray dogs and wild monkeys. After walking through the jetty I realised that the dogs were far too hot to be bothering anyone and most were asleep, and that if they were going to attack anything it would be the numerous goats that were just wandering around eating corn on the cob. (It's India, anything can happen!)

We went to look at the statues in the caves on the island, they were of the Hindu God Shiva in many different forms, very interesting and beautiful. I'd definitely recommend it to anybody. Nothing much else has happened. India is getting more wonderful by the day, and my idea of luxury is constantly changing. I'm hungry now (not for curry) so bye computer world! x

Goodbye my loves.

So, phase two of my life begins. I have left my family and my friends, ready to begin an adventure with my favourite man. I cried on the train, I never realised it would be such an emotional upheaval to leave a loved life behind. I hope to explore new possibilities and create memories that will last a lifetime, so when I'm on my death bed I'll think about the fun times that I've had.

I arrived at Bristol early, I picked up my bags and struggled through the ticket machines, they are small, I with two rucksacks am large, like getting a worm through a needle head. After my initial bravery, facing the women's toilets in the train station nearly knocking out an old woman with my giant rucksack child, I went out to face the world and to try to get the bus to Glastonbury. (tip to fellow travellers, don't ever try to smoke whilst carrying two rucksacks; it's a sure fire way to a collapsed lung.)

I finally got on the bus (after about an hour, misdirected by a horrible lady and helped my a lovely man!) and looked through my little daysack. HORROR, I couldn't find my glasses- cue a panic (a panic for Loz is like a whirlwind emotional breakdown for normal people.) I rang my mum, my sister, my dad, the home phone to no avail. The glasses were missing! The thought of being blind for a year wasn't/ is never enthralling. Sad times for little Lozzie. If you are reading this and have never worn glasses then you have never felt the pain of not being able to find your glasses because you can't see your glasses then listen to me it's AWFUL.

The upside to my long emotional breakdown and travelling story is that I found my glasses in my big rucksack. I have no idea how they got there, I swear a magical elf switched them in the night. My mind has no recollection of packing them in that bag, it just doesn't seem sane. I have also finished my goodbyes and I can carry on with my journey. I can start my big adventure soon. It doesn't make anything easier, but knowing that my friends and parents are happy for me is like a balm on my sad soul.

I have just arrived back home from Glastonbury carnival, a majestical, marvellous, overwhelmingly insane experience. A sensory decadence; basically after today I feel mashed. Today has been mental but goodbyes are nearly over, this is the start of phase two - I have to enjoy it. Welcome to my adventure.

Mum bye!

So after a harrowing last post I am back online, back writing. The end of Phase one has been and gone and Phase two is well under way. My world trip beckons, and I am more than willing to comply. I read an interesting phrase in a book (fantasy of course) which made me feel better about my death phobia/ fears. "Living is a risk," I snapped at him. "Every decision, every interaction, every step, every time you get out of bed in the morning, you take a risk. To survive is to know you're taking that risk and to not get out of bed clutching illusions of safety." (Maria V Snyder)...so true. I want to survive. I feel like a fantasy adventurer, I imagine myself being in either a different reality or in the 1600's/1700's going on a quest, an adventure. This makes me feel so much better about going away, I feel like taking a sword and a bow to protect myself from the evil of the world! This week I've said goodbye to my best friends and will soon be saying goodbye to my family. I've packed my bag (it's pretty heavy), i've sorted everything out and I'm ready to go. I never realised how hard it was to pack your life into a pretty small space. I've spoke to Finn, we're both freaking out but happy and excited! London on Tuesday, I might join in a student riot to begin my new adventurous life (not!) Wednesday is the time to fly over to Mumbai, hopefully the predicted tropical cyclone won't cause too much turbulence...

Cry for help.

So, in an effort not to avoid the issue I thought I'd write it down. I don't care if anybody reads it, or if it's written badly...this is just to help myself.
Last night there was an armed robbery at my work; there were three members of staff working. Me, and my two good friends David and Nat. We were sitting down having a quiet drink after a busy shift and suddenly heard a major crash at the door. David shouted "what the fuck" and three masked gunmen ran into the shop and requested the manager, which is me. For a few vital moments neither one of us said anything, but then with not only the truth but with the vicious need to protect the people that I love I volunteered myself as the manager. I took the masked gunman downstairs with the feeling of cold hard metal pressed against my back. I opened the door and walked to where the cash is kept. He told me that I wouldn't get hurt if I complied, so of course I did. I was shaking, profusely, violently whilst he watched me draw out the cash and I put it into a bag...we then went back upstairs. I told the gunman that there was money in the till and got it out for him, whilst the second gunman came to meet his friend. They were both stood half a metre away from me to my left and right side. They asked where my phone was, but luckily for them, they'd already snatched it off the table... they then asked where the shop phone was and I pointed it out to them. The second gunman threw it on the floor, nearly breaking all of the glasses. I remained cool and calm. I offered them everything that I had/ everything that the shop had in order for us all to get out of their safely. They sat as back down and with their guns pointing back at us they fled. I looked over at Nat and David and felt extreme relief that they were ok and safe. This was also my point of extreme fear. I didn't know what was going to happen, we didn't know which direction they had gone in or whether they had gone back downstairs to look for more cash. I felt vulnerable and unsafe which I still do.
Now..I feel numb, I feel like I can joke about it but that I don't really understand or have begun to comprehend how I feel. I feel agoraphobic, I don't want to be around big crowds of people, I feel distant. I feel hurt, betrayed and sad. The lack of compassion for humanity that these people showed shocked me beyond belief. I've lived through a lot for a 22 year old girl, more than some people in their lifetime. I can continue to be strong but I can't pretend that I'm ok. I feel confused, dainty and unprotected. I feel so unlike myself, and so weak that I can't bear to even show myself to my friends. I feel happy that it was me, and not anybody else. I feel bad for David and Nat. I feel awful for my boss. I feel petrified of returning to work. I feel like I need help but I don't even know where to start. If I send you this link don't judge me for sending it, it's a cry for help but I don't even know what sort of help I want. I just want people to understand. xxx

Total 'Eclipse' of the heart.

So, I've just been to see Eclipse at the cinema and although I really liked the film I can see why it's had bad reviews. Basically, there is a very overdramatic love story with the constant emotional expression of feelings similar to a cathartic tragedy. I was watching it, solo, and thought about the first flushes of love. I know that my relationship isn't anything similar to those in the Twilight saga, or any teen film out but I know that I love my boyfriend. I constantly question however whether any relationships are even similar to that. Do people, when they have been together for a long time still feel the teenage passion of films such as Twilight etc. or do they just settle into a love that is less passionate, more comfortable and convenient? And if they do, then are films like the Twilight Saga making people expect more? I'm not so impressionable that I can't see past the love story but I know people that are. I know young girls that love the film because of the love story and I just think that it makes impressionable people look for Disney style happy endings that don't really exist.

Apart from all this and my general thoughts on the matter, the characters really are beautiful. Male and female. I like that this is one of the first films out that is so sexually gratifying for women. I enjoyed being a voyeur. I liked perving on the hot men. The use of camera technique and lighting all in all makes all of the characters look fantastic so it's a beautiful film to watch, for me anyway.

Middle class and miserable.

I work in a lovely little cafe bar in West Didsbury called Folk. It serves beautiful food, a good variety of drinks and amazing cakes. I went to work today, very happy because I was working with my two beautiful ladies, Gillian and Natalie. My mood turned sour very quickly because seriously, the some of the people in West Didsbury are so miserable! I'm a waitress, and I know that it's not the most high profile job but some customers look at me, judge me and decide that I am illiterate and stupid. I'm not. My days constantly involve being talked down to, talked rudely to and some people just generally acting in a passively aggressive way towards me. I work incredibly hard, and what really gets to me, is when people act like I don't work hard. So, for example, I'm serving a table when a middle-aged, menopausal woman constantly interrupts me from another table when I'm talking to other people. Even if I was stupid and illiterate, I'd know the rules of cafe etiquette and just general politeness. She really pissed me off.
This has just ended up in me not saying anything in particular, apart from telling whoever's reading this, that I'm treated like shit by middle class and miserable people on a daily basis. Thanks for reading.

P.S It's people like this; "Reviewer cocobean 17/12/2009
waited about half an hour for a cup of tea in here. staff are SOOO rude/too cool to speak. Also don't try so hard to be 'quirky'. How did they win cafe of the year again??" "; that really piss me off. Seriously, get over yourself. You're probably some sad lonely person that has absolutely nothing to do apart from criticise things that aren't right for you. Also, check your grammar. Starting a sentence without a full stop; how blasphemous! (And I know for a fact that this was the day after our Christmas party!)

Ok, rant over. I love my job, I just dislike some people!

Lucidity and tiredness.

I currently have insomnia. My dreams are always incredibly lucid and memorable so I'm starting to feel quite thankful for this. Recently I have been going out and getting drunk a fair amount and I find that when I wake up in the morning that I can't actually differ between dream and reality. The upside of being sober and awake is then, that I know that I can't go to sleep because I am annoyed at the selfishness of certain people. The downside is, well I'm very very tired.
Tiredness always causes me to think, very elaborately about my life, loves and relationships in general. I have come to a conclusion, an epiphany some might say, that you constantly need to put yourself first. As much as I like to think about other people and do nice things for them I always find myself disappointed because the expectations I have set are so high...
So, I guess in some way my lucid dreams represent my reality; vivid and easily understood. It just took me a long time to work it out..!

"I was a young woman, a foreigner, travelling alone in a country halfway around the world from my home. Home. It was a bittersweet word."

I find it rather magical when you find a phrase from a book that reflects your thoughts and life so entirely, albeit I'm not quite travelling around the world yet, and not alone but it's nice to have a multi-faceted character that you can relate to.

hypochondria.

I would like a doctor like this, please.




My life is fairly mundane, I work, sleep, eat, go out occasionally. I live a pretty healthy lifestyle apart from the excessive cigarettes but I am a constant hypochondriac. My brain imagines that every part of my body is falling into tiny pieces. I have found a swollen gland, I obviously have lymphoma. My stomach is constantly bloated, I must have ovarian cancer/ be pregnant/ some other very unlikely thing. The thing is, is my dad has had cancer very recently and now, rather than have developed an addiction to anything interesting as a coping mechanism, I appear to have become addicted to hypochondria. The worst thing is, I won't go to the doctors. EVER. Full stop.

As I have been saying all day, 'an uninformed decision is worse to make than no decision'. Politics, politicians. It's ridiculous. The media frenzy over the election is ridiculous. Every word that has ever been written about politics is so 'spun' it's untrue. I don't see how anybody could make an informed decision based on media, a good P.R team and historical knowledge of previous primeministers.
Let's face it. Not much is going to change for a 21 year old girl, maybe if I had any particular kind of inclination I would have voted.. Britain isn't going to change through democracy, the only way it will change is through every individual thinking about their actions; that'll never happen.
So what's the point in arguing? Taxes will go up, taxes will go down. It's basically natural selection and you know whatever each party says it will do, will never ever happen anyway. It seems to me, like people judge each other by whom they choose to vote for; obviously, a certain parties policies segregrate people into certain categories. I don't believe in this, I don't believe in politics and I certainly don't believe in the true meaning of democracy.

So, this blogging thing appears to be quite addictive.

India, the ultimate adventure. The ultimate fear, for me anyhow. As a known stress-head and control freak, the thought of going to an unknown area/ regions scares me slightly. I went travelling around Europe two years ago and thought nothing of it, it was amazing. I had the time of my life, but this round the world trip is so much more than that. It's a new direction, path of my life that my mind wants to take but is willing to torture me before I actually jump to do it.
Take last night for example... I come home from work at the lovely Folk Cafe Bar, and try to get six hours sleep before my next shift starts. Somehow I manage to torture myself awake at six in the morning after dreaming about being tortured by terrorists (thank the metro, I always dream what I read..), massive killer rats and bombs. This is not normal, I am ultimately aware of this but my brain seems to feel the need to overthink everything. As I have already stated in this blog, I love fantasy books but I can't help feeling that they have become a little bad for me, like a drug addiction for a geek like me. I now fantasise every area of my life... I walk down a pavement and in my head some ninja from like two doors down comes and attacks me or something. It's ridiculous. So anyway, yes, I'm scared about travelling around India. Nowhere else, just India. I'm not even sure how this fear has come about, apart from random people telling me horrific stories about the country. I'm gonna go anyway and make my own experiences but I know, as I'm walking down a street with my lovely boyfriend I'm going to constantly be expecting a horror movie, a carnage, I will be chased by giant killer rats and ninjas and it won't be good, but I'll deal with it and possibly write a great fantasy book...

The comment on the side of my profile states that this blog will review fantasy books, it may do that, but it may talk about my life and my travel plans as well. Unfortunately, I am not incredibly computer literate and can't work out how to change it.

The hardest thing about writing, is knowing where to start...

Fantasy books are my passion. They contain a kind of escapism that no other genre can create for me. I love the intrigue, the endless plot twists and the fantastical aspect but mostly I love a flawed protagonist. The realism of a character that is incredibly flawed, for me, maintains a some might say 'false' symmetry to our own society, no matter how fantastical the fantasy world is. The Kushiel's series by Jaqueline Carey then, are my absolute favourite set of novels.
Phedre, the main protagonist is flawed beyond belief. Her occupation; prostitution. Her goal; 'love as thou wilt'. Her main flaw, that she turns to her advantage, is that she gets off on painful sex. She manages to save her country, and live vaguely happily pursuing knowledge. Throughout the three novels she overcomes some serious adversity, and also manages to basically kick ass through intelligence and espionage. Carey writes her, as a role model in the fantastical world and this transcends through to modern day society. Is this what feminism was for? To be able to have an amazing protagonist, that is independent, powerful and does what she wants? I think so. She has the absolute power and knowledge to do anything, even speak the word of God... It's just amazing.
I could write about it for hours, the novels encompass so much historical context and religious context that is so so fascinating but it's late and I'm tired and this is my first ever blog so yes. Little gratuitous ramble about books is over for now :)