ITALY!

Waking up to the sound of rain is not as soothing as falling asleep to it, or at least not when you need to pack up a tent. We had such good intentions when we chose to put the tent up to dry out instead of sleeping in the tent dorm but although the tent did briefly dry out, it was wetter than it started when it was time to go.

The rain was bucketing down so we decided to get breakfast first and use the wifi in the cafeteria in the hopes it would ease. At least then we would be dry even if the tent wasn’t. For the first time we had a real, strong wifi signal and spent the next couple of hours on the phone to family, Courts on Skype and me on our Voip line.

Courts had the privilege of being overheard talking to his Dad about the surfers in English Garden and questioned on them by quite possibily the most miserable human being I’ve ever come across. He was an English guy and he spent the next hour or so complaining about everything that had ever happened in his life. Courts has trouble politely edging away from conversation with anyone, he feels like the very idea of it is rude but I happily sat there looking extremely busy on the computer. Even Courts eventually started ignoring him, which I’ve not seen before.

Actually, I didn’t see it this time either, because as soon as the rain eased, I raced off to pack up the tent. Courts didn’t need to be wet and grumpy for the 6 hour ride to Venice but we did need to get on the road so I packed everything up as quickly as possible, wrapping the dry stuff in our Wacken ponchos and putting the wet stuff in between them as I strapped it all on the bike.

When I got back to Courts to tell him it was time to go his English friend had only just left and that was all the motivation he needed to get on the road. By this time it was noon and we were well behind in our day. For a 6 hour ride we would normally leave about 8am and take our time so the possibility of doing one with shorter breaks and a late arrival was daunting, and I wasn’t even the one riding.

For most of the ride through Germany it was raining still so there was little to see and we had to go a lot slower than normal, pushing our impending arrival time further and further out of reach. I had completely forgotten that we would cross through Austria to get to Italy so it was a nice surprise to see the border and even though the weather didn’t improve, Austria is amazing. At home mountains tend to gradually rise from the land so much so that they don’t really have a bottom, they just are. Not so in Austria, where there is perfectly flat land, massive fields with not a bump in sight and then BAM! Mountain. Not just any mountain, huge mountains. There was one that Courts unfortunately couldn’t see because I was looking to the right and then saw shadows in the clouds above us and realized that when I tilted my head back as far as it would go I could still see mountain in the sky. Easily the biggest mountain I have even been next to and by far the coolest. The flat land around them makes the mountains so breathtaking and humbling, especially when there are tiny house right next to them.

At one point we climbed higher into the alps and crossed a 192m bridge. I know it was that tall because that’s what the sign for bungy jumping from it said. No, we didn’t bungy! We did however, stop at the McDonalds next door, which hung out over the edge of the mountain and must be the McDonalds with the best view in the world. When we got off the bike we discovered that a little grasshopper we had seen when we got on way back in Munich had survived the whole ride. He was still there when we left Maccas an hour later and so he became Jiminy from Germany, and had his photo taken in the Alps.

Coming down the other side was a relief, in part because we soon reached the Italian border, and long rides are powered by milestones. The other cause for relief was that with Italy came sunshine. The weather was perfect and the second we crossed the border I was grinning. I didn’t stop until we reached the highway to Venice 2 hours later because Italy is everything I ever dreamed it would be and so much more. It’s stunning, I love it, I love it, I love it!

We had been told by friends at Wacken that when they attempted to drive from Austria into Italy they lasted an hour before turning back because of the number of near death experiences the Italian drivers provided them. Since hearing that I had been freaking out a little and while still on the Austrian side of the border we had two idiots on two different occasions pull out in front of us at the last minute. I figured we must be getting close to Italy and I was right, however as soon as we crossed the border everyone behaved and we didn’t have any issues the rest of the ride.

Most of the Italian leg of the ride was through the Dolomite Ranges and if you ever drive or ride through Europe, you have to go through them. More mountains, yes, and I can’t explain how so many mountains can all be amazing and not look the same, but they don’t. These ones had sheer cliff faces of rock where nothing could grow, and tiny houses dotted in higher places with seemingly no access. That’s as well as the vineyards and farms and the castles. So many castles! We didn’t see a single one in Germany, where we thought we would be flooded with them but Italy took one for the team and I think we saw more castles in that ride than we have in total since leaving Ireland.

Jiminy, or Jiminiiiia as he became when we crossed the border, hung on until just after we had stopped for petrol about an hour and a half into the Dolomites. I saw Courts swing his head back and I realized instantly what had happened. We thought he was our friend but he was really just hitchhiking to a warmer climate. I don’t blame him, I just hope he didn’t splat onto someone’s windscreen.

Once we were through the Dolomites and on the highway it didn’t take long to get to Venice and there was an added motivation for getting there in one day despite our late start. Awaiting us were two real beds inside a real cabin and they were all ours. It was tiny, little more than those 2 single beds and a cupboard, but that size made it only a couple of Euros more expensive than tenting it so we had booked it before we left home. Courts hung the tent out over the bike to dry and after a very long day we slept very, very soundly.

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Europe's Oldest Zoo: Artis, Amsterdam

We had been planning on seeing Amsterdam’s zoo, Artis, since the early stages of planning our trip. Despite recently going to BioParc in Valencia, with a full extra day to use up we had no reason to skip Artis. From the gates, you can see camels and bison living in harmony with llamas and donkeys. There is only a garden and a moat separating them from the people and it’s a very cool sight to see.

Beyond the front gate, you can tell that Artis is Europe’s oldest zoo. Like the rest of Amsterdam, it’s very brown, but it’s not just the paths and the architecture. Most of the animals still live in cages or in concrete pits. There are signs everywhere talking about extensive renovations and the plans sound very promising. The giraffe enclosure has recently been combined with the zebras and antelopes to create a much larger savannah where they can roam about together and there are plans to put the carpark underground and use the freed up space to enlarge the enclosures.

Until then, monkeys slide down the sharply angled sides of a bizarre concrete island, reminiscent of Planet of the Apes, sea lions snooze on a concrete pad and the Elephants wander a small sand pit with a few logs. A leopard, a jaguar, the lions, all live side by side in cages with concrete walls and steel mesh frontages. It’s similar to how Auckland Zoo was when I was little, but Auckland Zoo has changed drastically since then.

There are two highlights of Artis, the first being the diversity. There is a planetarium showing dome movies about outer space, an Aquarium, and a museum of old taxidermy models from the zoo’s earliest days as a developing education and research facility. There are more kinds of animals than any zoo I’ve ever been too and it’s awesome seeing Wolves and Giant Anteaters and Beavers and Racoons and Bears and huge Bison, absolutely massive, all of which we’ve never seen before. There’s a section similar to Butterfly Creek at home and a huge reptile house.

The other highlight was the number of new born animals there were. A month-old baby elephant wanders the sand pit with its Mum, not far from the baby giraffe next door. A tiny baby gorilla hangs on to its Mum and looks scarily human while a baby Margay cat, similar to a Servil, stretches up the cage to get closer to an actual human baby. A lion cub yawns and rolls over to stretch away from its Mum, just as the sea lion pup does the same in its own enclosure.

Of course the lowlight though is that they may never know the freedom other zoos offer, unless they are exchanged for breeding programs. The wild is far better than a zoo altogether but if you’re going to be born into captivity, there are better zoos to be born at.

An elephant with a star branded onto it’s back sways absent mindedly in the corner as the baby elephant runs past, and that’s the baby elephant’s ‘normal’. 

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Creepy Crawlies in my Tent

I’m not a big fan of spiders, but I’m not a squealer. When I lived in Aussie I was the one that got rid of cockroaches while the boys looked on. I don’t mind moths, I leave wasps and bees to their own endeavours, and although I won’t touch them, I’ll share my path with worms when it rains.

I did very well when a wasp flew in my helmet mid-ride during our first trip to France, even with a none-the-wiser Courts getting angsty at my lapse in navigation. I did even better when I found a spider on the inside of my sunglasses whilst wearing them.

I dealt very well with the cockroaches in Barcelona, even though I made Courtney leave the restaurant we were in when we saw the biggest of the lot. The waiter said they fly in from the massive trees that line the street but that didn’t mean I wanted them crawling behind me on the bench seat I was on, as one had.

A much smaller variety filled the trees of our campsite in Barcelona and apparently enjoyed the ride to Carcassonne when one crawled out of the folds of our packed up tent on arrival. The mouse I saw in the computer room in Barcelona lived to tell the tale too, but he kept his distance, and that made him cute.

Cormatin, as much as I love it, has tested my bug-surviving skills. Amongst the mole hills, massive orange, brown or occasionally albino slugs crawl the fields when it rains, or in the morning when you sleepily make your way to the toilet. We have found a big black and neon green beetle and several small fluro orange ones too. The beetles are fine, and I dealt with the bird-sized moth that landed on our tent one evening quietly.

It was the massive hairy brown spider that landed on my head, toppled down my shoulder and then scurried under my mattress while I was reading the global edition of the New York Times (first English paper or magazine or anything we’ve found in weeks, we devoured it) that caused me to jump out of the tent faster than I’ve ever moved in my life, and beckon Courtney to come and be manly and save me. At the time I didn’t know if it was a spider or a cricket or a grasshopper (both of which I’m fine with), I just knew it was massive, scuttley and that there was a chance it was a spider, so I was out of there. I was kind of relieved to find it actually was a spider, and huge, so that my tent-leaping was somewhat justified.

Cormatin is awesome. Cows and horses and cats and molehills are awesome. Cats with massive bulbous noses that you would empathise with a human for having let alone a cat, are awesome. But I will be a little bit glad when we get to a busier campsite with less… wildlife.

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Missing My Furs

I am very much an animal person. Courts is too, but being without them definitely affects me more. I’ve been away from Toby for a month before, when I went through the States, but it’s been 7 weeks now and I miss his fur. We saw a Border Collie the other day and even though it looked more like my old dog Holly than it did Toby, it made me wish he was here.

A lot of people travel with their dogs here too. At home there are no dogs allowed at campsites, ever. Either finding a place that will allow dogs or, easier, finding someone to look after him while we’re away, is a strong factor in any holiday we take. I’d much rather have him with us because he loves being on holiday with us, and here it’s so possible. I thought it was a novelty to see a blog before we left about people travelling long term with their dogs but if we stayed in Europe we could do it easily.

Of course that would entail spending thousands of dollars getting Toby onto the continent but for those that are already here, all you need is roughly 2 Euro extra a night and a way of securing the dog to your pitch or on a lead.

I’m yet to see a travelling cat but I’ve known of them at home. At our last house Izzy taught himself to open the bathroom window and escaped within 2 days of us moving there. But he was there, waiting outside when we got home and we didn’t have a problem afterwards. It would probably be different at Monty and Nurse B’s house where he has Jimmy to keep an eye out for but I’d like to think he could be a travelling cat.

Alas, with 8 more weeks (of Summer!) to go, at least our furs are safe with wonderful people who treat them very well and post lots of photos of them being ridiculously cute on Facebook. I do have two extremely cute furs if I do say so myself, very photogenic.

In the meantime, every animal anywhere near us gets fussed over. Whether we are riding past cattle or horses, or if we spot fish or turtles in rivers, if we’re at the zoo or the aquarium, if the next door tent has a puppy (even one that looks like a grizzly and barks like it wants to attack) or the campsite has a stray cat, we have animal radars imprinted in our brains that immediately go “LOOK! CUTE!” when we pass. We’ve even become nerdy avid bird watchers and feeders and if a squirrel were to find it’s way near us again it would probably find itself becoming a travelling squirrel.

None of these animals make up for fur cuddles though. I love the way my boys smell, their fur and their wet noses, Izzy’s whiskers and Toby’s annoyingly never-still tail. I miss a proper cuddle with one of them on my knee, or Izzy under the covers with me.

What part do animals play in your life? Would you miss them if you travelled long term?

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Aquariums, Portishead and Moving On

You can all breathe a sigh of relief and go back to looking forward to new posts, if that is what you used to do, because we have left Benicassim. The last couple of days were good enough. Mumford and Sons were amazing, but we were near the back of the crowd and I am not a girl that likes to stay at the back.

At New Zealand and Australian festivals I’ve been to before, you cannot hear other stages from the stage you’re at. When you are at a stage, you can be in the thick of it, or you can be near the back. If you so choose, most stages have enough room for you to sit and relax near the back while still being in ear shot and being able to look up at the screens every now and then. If you’re not interested in the music, there is room for you to stop and chill out without annoying the people who are interested in the music.

At Benicassim, if you’re not directly in front of the stage you can hear other stages over the top. Since they seem to have just sold way too many tickets to cope with, there is also nowhere for people to chill out. There are very tiny areas where you can sit on the ground, but you will be stood on, because they are the same areas people walk through. If you want to just talk, you generally have to be in the vicinity of a stage, and you’ll probably be at the back. Which means those of us that just wanted to chill out and listen to Mumford and Sons from the back, without fighting for prime position, couldn’t really do so because we were surrounded by people chattering and being idiots, people that weren’t interested in Mumford and Sons in the slightest.

We moved forward into the crush to get away from the banter and the noise of other stages, and we enjoyed Mumford and Sons, they were awesome. We didn’t bother staying for Arctic Monkeys though, we had enough.

The following day, our last full day in Benicassim, we again escaped to Valencia. We went to Oceanographique, the aquarium. If you are an animal lover or you have a family, Valencia is the best place ever (Haakuturi I spent half the day thinking how much you would love it there). Oceanographique is massive, with separate areas dedicated to the Mediterranean, Southern Seas, Antarctic, Arctic, Wetlands, Sharks and Dolphins. They have the only Beluga Whales in Europe and they have Walrus’!

We had never seen Walruses before and they held our attention for about half an hour. They are really just massive blobs of fat, one was basking in the sun and when he decided to go for a swim it took him 10 minutes to roll himself into the water. Not long after, the female decided to get out of the water but after one massive heave that got her half way and a couple of minutes attempting to get further, she gave up and went swimming again. Watching them together was awesome though, the talk to each other and play, and the male would occasionally look up and watch people on the bridge that crossed the enclosure.

Unlike at home where our Aquarium has one glass tunnel, Oceanographique has several, the longest 70m long, and one dedicated entirely to Sharks. The highlight of the day was the Dolphin show though. I’ve seen one before in Australia, but they don’t get old. Courts hadn’t seen one before and we ended up going back to see it a second time just before we left.

Despite getting a bit lost trying to get out of the city, we made it back to Benicassim in time to see Portishead. We were about 6 rows from the front, and despite having permission to leave at anytime, Courts lasted the whole show. Portishead is really more suited to a chilled out winery tour, something where you can sit back and relax and take it all in, but the crowd still loved them. The show was awesome, and being a more chilled set, there was no mad crush near the front. Courts got a bit bored because it was so chilled but I think the lack of crush is the only thing that stopped him leaving. The band left the stage 10 minutes early with no encore, which was a bit weird, but I’m really glad I saw them, they’re one of my favourite Sunday afternoon bands and my Uncle introduced me to them many years ago, before he passed away. Even though we didn’t stay to see Arcade Fire afterwards, Portishead was a good way to end the festival.

Almost better than seeing Portishead was that when we got up the next day, it was overcast and cool – perfect weather for packing up and carting all our stuff back to the bike. Barcelona here we come!

www.flickr.com Penelope_nz's Benicassim, Spain photoset

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Escaping the Insanity

BioParc Valencia is the best zoo I’ve ever been to. And no, incase you hadn’t guessed, it’s not in Benicassim. After a night of insane winds and a second drunk landing on poor Courtney’s head, we decided to escape Benicassim for the day and explore Valencia, 80km south.

The ride was a bit rubbish, mostly because the Navman was flat so we were just following signs and most of the highway we followed carved it’s way through industrial areas. When we arrived, the streets opened up, palm trees loomed overhead and beautiful old buildings spread either side. Through sheer dumb luck we managed to park 200 metres from the tourist office and not much further from the first stop of the Hop-on Hop-off tour. Yes, I finally got to go on my double decker bus tour.

We arrived around lunchtime and spent our first hour and a half in Starbucks, using their free wifi to combat the homesickness caused by our current living conditions. The best thing about Spain though is that thanks to siesta, everything stops or closes late, so we didn’t have to rush to get to the bus. On a whim, we decided to buy combination tickets for the bus and a zoo called BioParc which promised it was one of the best in Europe. Actually, once we got on the bus I found out it was kind of just me that decided. While Courtney did want to go, he was wearing swimming shorts and his chafing was reluctant to join in the zoo fun!

While on the bus we discovered most things in Valencia are ‘one of the best in Europe’, BioParc actually is. It’s a natural habitat zoo, meaning animal species all live with the other species they would normally live with in the wild, except their natural predators. Where possible there are no fences either. Gorillas and Chimps are separated only by a river they can’t cross, and while Lions are on their own, their massive enclosure is a hilltop high above a savannah space where Rhinos, Zebra, Antelope, Giraffe, and several other species all live in harmony.

The zoo is divided into 3 areas, Madagascar, the African Equator and the Savannah. We went into Madagascar first and couldn’t figure out where the enclosures were until we spotted a monkey and realized we were in the enclosure. Monkeys and lemurs ran around, across the paths and right up to you. While the animals diets are supplemented when natural food supplies dry up, herbivorous animals live with the plants they would normally eat and still forage for their own food. So lemurs sat eating berries with their young, and although feeding them the berries was ‘frowned upon’ because they can bite, a zoo employee watched on while Courts fed them once or twice before he said anything.

Last time I went to the zoo at home I remember talking about how cool it would be if you could see under the water of the hippo lake. At BioParc you can, and the hippo cow and her baby swam around with an aquarium full of fish that nibbled on their backs, keeping them clean. We also saw our first Gorillas. We don’t have them in the zoo at home, and they are creepy! Courtney loved watching them as did I, but the biggest one was just way too intelligent looking for me. Not only was it creepy the way he moved and the way he watched us but seeing that much intelligence in an animals eyes made it really sad to see him in a zoo, even if he had an enclosure we would live in.

Jumping back on the bus tour, we made our way back to point A and jumped off to check on the bike and have dinner. We had our first McDonalds of the trip, because Courts has been craving it, and it’s so much better than home! While our European Burger King experiences have us sworn off it for good, Maccas was actually really tasty. The bus tour has two routes, both included on the ticket, so rather than go back to Benicassim we did the second route as the sun went down. Even though the bus broke down half way, it was still a better alternative to going home.

When we finally made our way back to camp, it was well past night fall. The hour-long ride was calm and easy until the first sight of a sign for Benicassim where the weather turned and had me hanging on tightly as we were blown around. Camp was a shambles, the temporary shower walls and shade awnings were only half intact and we battled dust clouds to reach our tent. Once inside the noise of the wind against thousands of tents was deafening but at least it drowned out the drunks. Valencia, we love you.

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There’s no Turning Back Now

Yesterday was an entirely weird day. The previous night we were at Courtney’s brother’s house saying goodbye to his friends. We got home around midnight and I was too cold and tired to do any packing or sorting. By morning, I was up and ready to go but Courts was a little… seedy, to say the least.

We ambled around getting ready and didn’t even really notice the time getting on. We felt no sense of urgency to get to work and were already running late when we realized we needed petrol as well. We took Monty’s car through the car wash ready for his big return and made it to work half an hour late.

My boss arranged a chocolate cake and took it into the main Contact Centre where she proceeded to embarrass me with speeches from her and our team. I both loved and hated it, but it really did mean a lot. She pulled out a list of stats of my time there, things like having done 30 induction courses for new staff and trained 200 people. It was the 700 phone screens that got me jaw-dropped as recruitment was my least favourite part of the job.

They presented us with a going away gift too – 2 tiki key chains, a traveler’s notebook and 2 tickets to the very top of the Eiffel Tower. I was lost for words, we hadn’t been planning on stretching our budget to get to the top and here they’ve given us an experience that can’t be had anywhere else. Once that was all over (even the GM and head of IT came down which was awesome) I sent a goodbye email to my wider team and said my goodbyes. Courtney, in true Courtney style, took forever saying goodbye, but we finally left around 1pm.

I can’t explain how surreal it was to drive away from work. I know I wanted to leave, to get away from the air conditioning and fluorescent lights, but I’ve still spent the majority of my waking hours there for 4 years – it would have been weirder if it didn't feel a little like leaving home.

We spent the afternoon packing and cleaning and awaited the arrival of Mum and my sister after 5pm. By this time the stress had got to both of us and we were arguing and taking stupid things to heart. Courtney is a leave-it-to-the-last-minute guy whereas I would have had everything ready the night before if I hadn’t been waiting for him to be finished with bits and pieces. Having agreed days ago that the morning of our flight to Christchurch we would start the day in the clothes we would wear on the plane, I thought it was safe to pack everything up. Alas, Courtney needed a shower and afterwards needed everything I had packed up. It was silly but it did really stress me out, knowing we still had stuff to do and yet here we were undoing everything I’d already done.

Saying goodbye to my animals was the worst. Only animal lovers can understand it, but I was more upset leaving them than any humans – I can Skype the humans, I can’t Skype my little furs. I said goodbye to Izzy early on and left him to play in the bedroom with Njaro. We have routines together, he and I. he sleeps under the covers with me and rests on my pillow when he gets too hot. It will be extremely weird not having that. 

Saying goodbye to Toby was even worse. By the time I came to do so, Nurse B’s Mum had arrived to take over house sitting duties and I didn’t want to get upset in front of her. Toby is my buddy, and he’s a Mummy’s boy too. He understands a lot of words, some of which don’t translate when other people say them because it’s the inflection in my voice that he picks up on. I feel like he will be living in a metaphorically darker world for 4 months, all these words in his head and no one saying them. He’s a Border Collie so he is smart and needs mental stimulation. I think it will be like if I went to a small town in China where people spoke broken English at best. I know he will be safe, but he’s still my little boy, and I missed him the second I was in the car.

I didn’t cry saying goodbye to my Mum, sister, Squish, Lobster and Wozz at the airport. It didn’t feel like a big goodbye scene because we were only at a domestic terminal and I knew I was only flying an hour. I was a bit sad when I realized there was a viewing platform and, not knowing about it, they had left already. It really hit me though on the plane. Instead of thinking how 4 months is so short and I want to be in Europe longer, I was thinking how 4 months is so long and I miss my home already.

Everything changed so drastically in one day. There was no resting period between finishing work and leaving, so in one day I left my job, my friends, my animals, my family, my home, my stuff – my sense of normality and grounding. I cried on and off the entire flight, moving between excited and incredibly sad.

It helped that my darling Gin was there to pick us up at the airport and that she had the most comfortable bed ever in the history of the world waiting for us at home. Her house smelled of fire and homeliness and warmth, and it was easy to fall asleep.

Today is a huge day. See you later New Zealand, we’re off exploring.

If you’ve travelled, what did you miss the most? What was the hardest thing to leave behind?

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Blended Families - When Fur Flies

We're on the home stretch of our House Sitting gig now, looking after Monty and Nurse B's house and their dog, Jimmy and cat, Njaro. When we head off to Europe NEXT WEEK (!) our dog, Toby and cat, Izzy will stay behind for a 4 month holiday with Uncle Monty and Aunty Nurse B.

Introducing the animals has not been easy. None of them are difficult animals individually. Toby is a big softy, a border collie who is a quick learner but also extremely ditzy. He does have a jealous streak occasionally but generally he is very well behaved. Jimmy is the sweetest boy. He's a bit of a rebel but you can't stay mad at his big brown eyes. Every now and then he will slowly, gently, climb onto your knee for a cuddle. He's by no means small but he seems to think he's doing it without you noticing!

Izzy is an adventurer. He loves exploring and he is normally outside a lot of the time. He plays with Toby constantly but when he's tired, he is the cuddliest (fluffiest) cat you'll ever meet. Njaro is a short haired white kitten who loves as much attention as he can possibly get and makes up for it by being quite possibly the softest animal I've ever patted.

Toby and Jimmy had met plenty of times before and they're good mates. It was a bit of a different story to have them eat together though. Toby is used to being the man of the house and it took a bit of control training to get him to realise both bowls weren't his to call dibs on. He's now at a point where he goes straight to his own bowl and the only time he gets grumpy is if Jimmy gets too close to his morning biscuits, which is rare because he eats so fast.

Izzy and Njaro got on well quite quickly. Njaro is just a kitten and he was very keen to meet Izzy (who is 2) as soon as possible. The first few days Njaro was let into our bedroom with a segregated Izzy several times. Occasionally there was hissing but never a fight, and very quickly they were playmates. Although it took a few attempts before they were happy with the idea of a full night in the same bedroom together, they now sleep next to each other on the bed with us every night. Njaro refuses to eat from his own food bowl and even if he is out in the rest of the house he will often choose to be in the bedroom with a still-segregated Izzy at the first opportunity.

Cat versus dog introductions proved a whole other story. Toby and Njaro are alright now. Toby had seen Njaro several times before we moved in and had a careful sniff and moved on. The day after we moved in however, there was a scrap when Njaro went to eat his own food near Toby's bowl. Since then Njaro has made his animosity toward Toby quite clear. A few weeks later, they're now generally OK and are happy to be in the same room together. If Njaro runs off, a quiet 'uh-uh' to Toby reminds him not to chase and play and otherwise they're all good.

Izzy and Jimmy have been a whole other story.

One week to go and we're no closer to having Izzy running around the house freely. Basically the routine is thus - Izzy and Njaro sleep in our room, Toby and Jimmy sleep in the lounge. In the mornings, the dogs eat their biscuits, Jimmy on the front door mat and Toby outside (because Jimmy eats slowly and Toby will steal them otherwise) while I start getting ready. I put one scoop of biscuits in Izzy's cat food feeder and that feeds both cats for the day - because of course Njaro won't eat out of his own bowl.

Once Jimmy has finished eating, both dogs are shut outside so the cats can come out of the room and go to the toilet. The litter tray was in our room but of course this is far from ideal and I've been moving it closer and closer to the laundry each day so that hopefully by the time Monty and Nurse B get back the cats are only using Njaro's original litter tray in there. Same with the biscuit feeder, so that even if they won't eat out of Njaro's own bowl they can eat in the laundry.

We go to work and leave the cats inside to roam around the whole house and the dogs go in their kennel. When we get home from work the dogs stay outside for a minute while we go in and shut the cats back in our room. They're normally out in the lounge somewhere. We don't make Njaro go back in our room, but whatever Izzy is doing, Njaro wants to do. Once the cats are shut back in, the dogs come inside.

When everyone has settled down, I usually take Jimmy into our room, holding his collar, to let him and Izzy have a sniff of each other. Izzy has stopped caring (read: hissing) and Jimmy will be very well behaved for a few minutes, nose to nose with Izzy, sniffing, occasionally licking, and mostly just looking - and then he lunges. He's not nasty about it, he's trying to play but it means we cant leave the bedroom door open without us keeping a very careful eye/hand on him cause he goes under the bed and then a fight starts when Izzy gets a fright from the sudden movement.

Holding on to Jimmy we pull him away and then he goes back out into the rest of the house and Izzy (and usually Njaro by his own choice) stays shut in the bedroom to chill out for a bit. We feed the dogs and let them have run of the house for awhile. later on we will usually shut them out for half an hour or so, so that the cats can have a run around with us there and go to the toilet. Izzy comes out of the room about half the time.

After awhile we shut the cats back up and the dogs come inside for the night. We have a good little routine going, I just have no idea how to get Jimmy and Izzy over this hump. Everyone else is fine, but we cant leave the bedroom door open unattended. Nurse B has suggested bringing Izzy into the lounge while Jimmy is quiet or sleeping and getting them used to each other in a different environment. I'm definitely going to try it! Thankfully there's a long weekend coming up.

Any tips my lovely readers? I think the main issue is the cramped space, but if we leave the door open for Izzy to wander out, he won't have a chance before Jimmy is under the bed. Maybe I open the bedroom door and call Jimmy onto the couch for a cuddle, I think that will work. Any ideas are very much appreciated, I haven't done this since Izzy was a tiny little fuzzball!

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And then there were 34

34 Days to go. ONE MONTH! Tomorrow, we officially move to Monty and Nurse B's house. And the best bit? Izzy is coming with us. As you know, we had a bit of an emotional weekend. I spent much of Monday in zombie mode, stressed to the max and just a little bit down in general. I didn't know where Izzy was going to go and I felt terrible about Soul Buddy having to deal with the whole mess. SB in turn felt terrible that she had let me down, although I don't feel in the slightest like she has, more that I let her down by relying on her so much.

Poor little Izzy, I feel so bad that he has to deal with all this confusion. At least he will have Toby back and he will have us. I don't think it will phase him living with a new dog and cat as well. SB pointed out that having grown up with Toby, Izzy doesn't behave like a cat. He thinks he's a dog, and his dog-like behaviour intimidated SB's cats while their cat-like behaviour confused Izzy. I just feel terrible that he has to be uplifted again. Once we get to Monty and Nurse B's, we will keep Iz segregated to one room for a week so that he settles really well before even exploring the house. As much as he will hate being stuck in one room (he's a hunter and explorer) I think it will be better for him in the long run.

So that's where we are at. MOVING DAY! The last of our bits and pieces will go into storage and we will begin living out of a suitcase. It will be nice to say goodbye to our bed, which I hate. It was advertised on Trade Me as Queen sized and medium firmness and turned out to be double and an extremely hard mattress when we got it home. Bye-bye horrible bed!

Bye-bye warm house that needs little heating. Bye-bye rubbish water pressure. Good bye ridiculously annoying and un-conquerable ant infestation. Bye feijoa tree and apple tree. Bye nasty kids that fight in the street. Good bye ugly wooden walls that somehow make it feel like home. That's it really isn't it? Good bye to the last 'home' we will have for 5 months. We will redefine home. Home is love and adventures and tents and motorcycles. Bring it on.

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Nothing Ever Goes to Plan

I woke up feeling sick today. Full on shakes and nausea. I'm not ill, I'm stressed and I'm sad. It was supposed to be such an exciting weekend - moving all our furniture into storage and Izzy the cat to Soul Buddy's house. Not exciting to have no furniture and no cat but definitely exciting to be one step closer to Europe.

Saturday morning started with an argument. I've never moved house with the Long Haired Boy before and therefore I never knew he Hates Moving House. He hadn't really said so before - I should have taken the packing-everything-myself as a sign. I needed him to tell me what in the spare room was still on Trade Me vs going in the bin vs going in a box to go into storage that day. I needed to know these things so that a messy room in reality could be a room I didn't have to worry about in my head. I can't explain how that works. But without knowing that room was all sorted, even as Organised Chaos, I wouldn't have felt like we had everything covered.

Meanwhile, LHB needed a drink of water. He had just surfaced, he's not a morning person, and he's especially not a morning person without a glass of water first, followed by a coffee if at all possible. Just as he couldn't see inside my mind to know why I needed answers now, I couldn't see inside his head to know he wanted to go and get a drink. He got frustrated, I got upset, nasty words were said. Hello, Saturday.

Moving our stuff ended up being even more stress. I had everything packed, I've been sorting, selling, giving away and packing for literally 2-3 months and other than a couple of cupboards in the kitchen that I needed to get more boxes for, I thought everything was sorted. Mum had mentioned having a plan for everything, what stuff was going to my sister's house, what was going into her storage locker. She had also mentioned upgrading the storage locker to a bigger one. I took all of this as gospel but when it came down to it, there were a lot of questions - "Where's this going?" "I thought you knew?" throughout the day.

As the common denominator here, I feel perhaps communication isn't my strong point. I try to talk to people about issues, I try to get everything out and air cleared. I think I do it wrong.

With all the underestimated moving stress, we were running way behind our anticipated timeframes (borrowed Ute had to be back at 11, we finished moving at 5) and Izzy still had to go to Soul Buddy's. SB and her Mister ended up coming to pick him up and off he went, followed by a few tears and then a mad panic to get to Monty and Nurse B's going-away dinner, since along with us moving into their house this weekend comes them flying off to Africa.

The dinner was awesome, a lot of fun with awesome food and great company. SB sent me pxt's and texts all night to keep me updated on Izzy (he didn't miss me at all) and when Courtney's sister and I visited on Sunday morning all was good. He had been a little brat all night trying to escape and keep everyone awake but he was happy, they were happy. Now the other cats had to get used to him and we'd be away laughing.

I went home, did Miss Nails' backfill and then went to find my phone. SB had text, rather upset because her cats had had to be coaxed inside with tuna, then sprayed their territory and run away again. We all came to the conclusion that Izzy should have been segregated for awhile first to allow them to get used to the smell and introduce them all slowly, but that's not what happened, so now we need to deal with the situation. Izzy is shut in the spare room on his own. He is happy enough, he is a very chilled cat. But SB feels guilty that she has let me down, I feel guilty that I've stuck her with this mess, and I feel incredibly guilty about Izzy.

I know he's a cat and cats are resilient. But he trusted me, he chose to live with me, he let me cuddle him, he slept on my face (yeah, he does that). I was his owner and he trusted me and I let him down. Think me stupid for feeling this way but I do. I feel immensely bad, that someone, even if it is a fur, trusted me and I let them down. I felt the same way when my dog Holly died while being pet sit and I have felt the same way in human situations. I hate it, I hate letting people down, and I hate that I can't communicate with Izzy and explain to him why this is all happening and that it will all be OK in the end.

Will it though? We now have to find a new home for Izzy. The poor little fur has to deal with another new house, new family, possibly new pets to be introduced (slowly) to and another car ride. Monty and Nurse B have said there is potential he might be able to come with us after all. He wasn't originally because they have 2 cats and a dog and we are adding Toby to the mix and that is quite a lot of fur for one 3 bedroom house. Monty's cat Dee hasn't taken well to the blended-family vibe though and a month or so after moving into Nurse B's with Monty, still hasn't come out from under the bed. She doesn't like dogs. So Dee might be on her way to Monty's Mums house and that might mean Izzy can come with us and (slowly) meet Jimmy the dog and Njaro the kitten. If he can't, and at the slightest hint that he can't I won't take him, because Monty and Nurse B are doing us a big enough favour already, then I don't know what to do.

I was relying on there being a car to take Izzy to SB's house on Saturday and there wasn't, so they had to pick him up to allow him a full weekend to get used to everything with them at home. I relied on other people for the cars and therefore I let SB and Mister down when I couldn't meet my obligations of dropping him off. Everyone on moving day was bitching at me for not knowing where everything was going because I'm the organised one therefore I should know everything. I relied on Mum saying she had it sorted and by doing so I let Mum, her partner and Courtney down. I'm relying on Monty and Nurse B to look after not only Toby but us and now they might have to do even more by taking Izzy in. I hate relying on people and I hate that I'm putting my friends, who are doing us favours left right and centre, in these positions and letting them down.

It all came to a head when Courtney got home from one place en route to band practice, running late, and came home to me stressed about Izzy. I was extremely stressed and inconsolable and had no idea that he also was feeling a bit down. Queue another big fight, more tears, more blame and more nasty words and then an evening sat in bed, alone, with the laptop, not knowing how to install Digg buttons or anything else required for a successful blog, marvelling at how much more successful 'everyone else's blogs are, 'everyone else's relationships are and 'everyone else's lives are.

No one that writes a perpetual-travel blog ever tells you about the Mourning Period. They don't tell you that when everything is packed and all the furniture is in storage you grieve. LHB and I both feel sad and a little empty and we are probably taking it out on each other, unfairly of course. These big changes are supposed to be exciting, they lead to everything we have dreamed of, saved for and planned for in the last 6 months. Instead I feel like my little life that all my money and time and energy has gone into for the last 6 years is gone. My cat is gone, my stuff is gone and I'm living in a shell of a house waiting for that to be gone too. I want to be excited but instead all I feel like doing is throwing up and then curling in a ball and waiting for it all to sort itself out.

No one warned me it would be like this. But I guess that would be me relying on other people for warnings too, wouldn't it.

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Saying Goodbye to my Furbaby

In exactly 6 weeks time we will be on our way. All the months of planning and spending and preparing all wrapped up in a proportionately tiny 250L backpack. At that point, whatever will go wrong is going to go wrong, to be worried about, dealt with, and eventually laughed at. There will be no turning back!

Tomorrow, we move all our belongings into storage. For the last week at our house we will have our bed, suitcase, computer and fridge. Natalie's not-quite 20 inch TV will still be there but there will be no couch to watch it from and it will likely end up back in her room - the best furnished room in the house since nothing of hers is going to storage.

A week later, we move to Monty and NurseB's house as they head off on safari to Africa and to climb Kilimanjaro. The carpet cleaner has been booked, utilities cancelled... oven cleaner pulled from the depths of the cupboard. Ergh.

Soul Buddy and her Mister are also off overseas soon, in 5 weeks time. Since they are the ones looking after Izzy while we're away, we want him settled into their house nice and early before they go. So early in fact, that he's going to their house tomorrow. It means he doesn't have to deal with the stress of our stuff disappearing and us cleaning everything, but it also means my time is up. Excuse the melodramatics that follow, but I love my furbabies more than anything so...

I know I'm going to visit him all the time and that he will move back home post-Europe but it's just not the same as having him constantly with me. I can hear him miaow when no one else can, semi instinctively. I get all excited, literally lighting up when I hear the bell on his collar. He is the cutest damn cat in the entire world and I know his every habit, exactly where he likes to be scratched and where his favourite hiding spots are. To that end, you know how when a loved one (including loved furs) dies, you wish you had just one last chance to say goodbye? I have that chance. It's no easier.

Tomorrow, I will bawl my pansy eyes out and I will feel sorry for myself, and if I'm honest, loyal readers, I'll probably consume quite a lot of sugar-based substances, of which I am already ashamed.

We have already prepared Toby by taking him with us to Soul Buddy's house last weekend so that when we visit it again with Izzy in tow, he will recognise it and understand that Soul Buddy is the common denominator and therefore it is a House We Trust. He will come with us to drop Izzy off so that he understands where Izzy is, and we will visit a few times the following week so that he understands Izzy is still there.

Toby's fursister, Holly, died almost exactly 2 years ago and he got to see her body and understand what had happened. He grieved considerably, we both did, together in bed. He was incredibly in tune with my emotions and he still understands her name and comes for a cuddle if we mention her several times in a short space of time. I don't want him to presume the same has happened to Izzy, especially since a month later it is likely he will presume it has happened to us.

So we will visit and Soul Buddy will get insanely sick of us. We're really doing her a favour, since if she is sick of us, she can't miss us for 4 months. Izzy is going to get so many cuddles tonight he will get sick of us too, and then he won't miss us.

I know cats are resilient, but will he miss us? I hope so.

Do you have any tips for rehoming animals as stress-free as possible?

Starting Young

Even at 18 I was ambitious. Having given up a scholarship to do a degree in Interior Design, I was living in Australia with my boyfriend, working casual hours, living with his parents and dreaming of better days. It was at 18 that I wrote this out (maybe after reading this, Courtney will understand why he can't stop me dreaming about what we will do post-Europe before we've even conquered that) -

 

 In 2005, I moved home from Australia, with boy in tow. I lived at home with Mum, broke up with boy, and somewhere towards the end I got back together with boy. I saved bugger all, bought a TV, Home Theatre System and a solid wood TV Cabinet, my first grown up purchases. I did buy a car, one which lasted me a good 5 years. I bought a laptop. I got my P's (Provisional license in Australia - the stage before a Full or Open license) and I got contacts. When I moved home I got a job with a utility company and worked my way up the Call Centre ranks. I met Monty there. I rekindled my friendship with Wozz after a couple of years apart. I visited Melbourne, Australia for the first time. 

Even at the time of writing the list, I knew my income goals, which were in addition to the savings, were ridiculous. I also knew if I didn't push myself I'd stay at Pizza Hut forever. I did OK though, in terms of income for my age.

In 2006, when I was 20, I moved out of home with boy, got two beautiful puppies, and my first Personal Loan. I used the loan to pay for beautiful new furniture (which the puppies promptly destroyed) and pay the excess on an insurance bill for a minor car accident. As well as paying my loan installments, I saved $3,500 towards a house before having to spend it cleaning up boy's messes, after which I broke up with boy for the second and final time. I completed the Polytech course I had hoped to complete in 2005, with an overall mark of A+. Despite having skipped out on the scholarship for Interior Design, I at least now had a (lesser) qualification in the subject. I didn't pay a dime on my student loan above what I had to. I did buy a bedroom suite.

In 2007 I saved nothing towards a house however I did travel through the USA, seeing New York, Philadelphia, DC, Memphis, Nashville, Las Vegas and LA. I saved for much of it and topped up my personal loan for the rest. I applied for several Uni papers extramurally, added them to my student loan and then used my student allowance to become far too hungover to pass my exams (if I turned up at all). I paid the minimum off my student loan through my position at the utility company and somehow avoided being fired for turning up hungover and exhausted for long enough to meet a new boy and get my act together. With my new found mental clarity (not to mention that of my liver) I moved on from said utility company and found myself at new utility company, that which I still work for today. Oh, and I already owned a lounge suite.

In 2008 I had just finished my course to become a Nail Technician. I had come to the conclusion that getting a personal loan probably hadn't been the best idea and that if I wanted to get rid of it I needed More Money. Nails was something I could do from home, that had a decent profit margin and that could set me up for a decent part time income one day when I had kids. I saved nothing towards a house. I saved nothing towards an OE. I gave up paying for Uni papers I never finished. I paid nothing but the minimum off on my student loan, which was disappointingly huge despite the meek returns. I got my first tattoo. Soul Buddy and I got back together after being apart for a couple of years. I got single again. Oh and I already owned a dining suite. 

I started 2009 by changing jobs within the same company, moving into Training where I remain to this day. I saved nothing towards a house. I saved nothing towards an OE (Overseas Experience, for those not familiar with the term). I paid the minimum off my student loan. I cemented some seriously amazing friendships (Lealea and Squish, I'm looking at you). I got more tattoos. I suffered my first non-boy heartbreak when one of my two puppies was hit by a car while we were away for the weekend (she was at home with a pet sitter). I visited Brisbane again for Soundwave 2009 in a trip combined with my first trips to Perth and Sydney in Australia. I met Courtney for the first time. A boy moved in with me.

In 2010 I did not buy a house. I did buy a kitten. I did not travel to London, Spain, France, Greece or Italy, although it's nice to know I'm doing it only one year after I wanted to. I had already been to LA and New York. I went to Soundwave 2010 in Brisbane. I got engaged. Boy paid my student loan off so that we could save for a house. I went to Rarotonga for the first time. I realised boy was not the right one. I got un-engaged. I visited the South Island for the first time. I met Slash. 

I paid back boy for the student loan and got my total debts down to their lowest point since their inception. They had climbed and climbed over the years but now I had no student loan, owed no individuals (ie. Mum or boy) and had zero hire purchases. For the first time in a long time I had all my debt in one place and I kicked it's ass. By the end of 2010 I had paid off $20,000 in 2 years. I moved out of my house - the same one I moved into when I moved out of home 4 years earlier. 

On moving day my flatmate said 'What's going on with you and Court's? You keep looking at each other'. As far as I was concerned, nothing was. 

In 2010 I got my first restraining order, a police-requested one against a different flatmate, who had drunkenly trashed the house we were moving out of the first night we slept away from it. Hopefully it will be my last. I also had my laptop stolen from our housewarming and sold to a gang down south. By process of elimination the culprits (friends of the first flatmate) were determined and then traced, returning the laptop after buying it back off the gang. Who on earth does stuff like this happen to other than me? No one I've met, that's for sure.

In 2010, a month after moving, Courts and I realised what flatmate had seen all along, and the rest is history. 

In 2011 I still don't have a house. I already have a puppy, although he's about to turn 5. I meet my income goal. In 2011 I will visit 11 countries - I've done Soundwave 2011 in Australia and will see Ireland, England, France, Spain, Netherlands, Germany, Czech Republic, Switzerland, Italy and Greece. 

I don't have a student loan but I do have a personal loan. In 2011, I will pay it off, even if the bank doesn't think I can. 

In 2011 I will buy a new car, once which I am proud to drive. Courtney and I will buy a new bike and upgrade his computer. 

In 2011 I will attempt to write a book. 

I will grow my nails business. 

Iwill go to Soundwave 2012. 

I will enquire about getting my Caregiver qualifications so that until I can be a foster parent, I can at least be involved in the organisations that help them. 

I might look after a Guide Dog puppy to give Toby company. I might not. 

I might try and get into a band again. 

I might train to do eyelash extensions as well as nails. 

I will go back to Pilates. Maybe I'll learn to teach it. 

A 9-5 office will not be the thing that sums up my life, unless it has the benefits to quantify it.

In 2012 I will buy a house, which I will sell for profit. In 2012 I will start my degree. Courtney will complete his degree. I will not get a student loan. Courtney and I will go on a cruise. We will decide on our next overseas adventure. 

You can't see the last line of 2011 but it says 'In 2021 I will be 35 and I will be a millionaire'. You can laugh. I didn't think it was going to land in my lap, but even at 18 I knew if I didn't add it to my goals, it wouldn't happen. In 2021 I will be in a stable relationship. I will have worked with charities I care about. I will foster. I will have a child. I will have seen South America, India and Africa. I will own a home and an investment property. I will have my degree. Other than my mortgage I will be debt free. 

In 2021 I will have redetermined these goals a thousand times, but I will have achieved most of them. 

Forget the 'I'd like to's and the 'I wish's... In 2021, what will you have done?