Sunday 19th Dec – Nelson.
A wise man once said to me:
“find 1 thing to smile about everyday, and everything will be ok…”
I am finding this increasingly difficult to stand by at the moment.
It rained all day today again…..
After a wonderful night sleep, filled with weird and wonderful dreams, I awoke to ‘the others’ zipping and unzipping their bags (a noise that haunts you daily in a backpackers residence, and becomes increasingly annoying) so I grunted loudly and rolled over. I inched back the red and cream striped canvas curtain, to see a dark grey sky once again, pissing down on everyone in Nelson.
“whats the point?” I thought to myself, as I buried my head in my pillow and grappled around for Unyun, my one stuffed saviour amongst all the trauma….
I eventually dragged myself from bed at around 11am, lazily showered and then, what?......what is there to do on a day like today, when you have no money and no mates to play with…nothing…..
yes, dear readers I was in one of THOSE moods, I think my mother used to refer to them as “a tiz”.
So I dressed, and pottered into the living area with my book, flounced down on the sofa amongst the other 13 nomads, with each of their equally thrilling tomes and tried to read…..
Now, “why don’t you try and make friends?” I hear you cry… this is why…
I have always hated the idea of a backpackers because I was convinced they were full of horny travellers, high on life and cheap narcotics, desperate for the next thrill, drinking away the evenings like debaucherous vikings, and waking up in each others beds…….these guys are no where near this…infact, a bit of barbaric hooliganism wouldn’t go amis right now.
They are silent, SILENT germans…. they all sit around reading like they are on a London tube train…god help you if you catch someone’s eye, they look away immediately in fear of being turned to stone…
One of the said Germans is in the bunk above me, that’s about 2 feet away from my head and I don’t even know her name….i know her breathing patterns when she sleeps but no, no name….
The only person who I have had brief conversation with is the Italian guy who spent the entire evening staring at my legs last night as I tried to watch Amelie. This morning he cornered me as I tried to eat my 4 Ryvitas, Promite and avocado in peace….he plonked down next to me and asked me how long im staying for….im being a bit mean because im in a bad mood, but its so obvious he is just trying to get in mine and anyone’s pants!!
So after our brief encounter I donned my bright yellow sailor coat and brand new waterproof bag cover, and sprinted out of the door an hour before I needed to.
I walked along the engorged river that was threatening to burst its banks, and along to the library. I stood outside undercover and read my book for 45mins until it opened then headed in to email.
The most horrific thing happened…..
Ollie had said to me the other day
“ok well if you are doing this course you should double check that hairdressing is still on the skilled worker list, as I heard a rumour its bin taken off”
“nonsesnce and poppycock!” said I, confident in my research skills.
Low and behold, for once in his life, he is right!
Damn, blast and a million other obscenities that blurted from my pretty English mouth in the middle of a public library, along with a torent of hot, angry, homesick tears.
I cant believe it. For the first time in my life I had made myself a sensible plan that potentially could last the next 5 years, and would mean getting into Australia all by myself, no marriage needed…and now that’s all gone to balls!
im so gutted.
After about 2 hours of tears, I stopped.
“There is actually nothing I can do now. This isn’t up to me.”
I still really want to do the course and that would give me another 2 years in Oz….anything can happen in 2years and if it doesn’t and I cant stay, well theres nothing else I can do.
So after the rest of the day walking around in the rain, my plan B is as follows:
study the 2 years hairdressing course in Oz and enjoy it.
after 2 years if there is still no way to stay, I will return to the UK and try and get a job in a salon, and a flat in Bath.
This way I can see my sister and mummy more, I can go to London for weekends if I want, and maybe have holidays to Byron. Oh, and I can get a dog.
So not all bad I guess.
Ill just leave it up to the universe now…..
The days here are dragging so much. Im trying so hard to be positive but its so difficult.
Oh, I guess I did do possibly the best yoga class of my life this afternoon tho. I didn’t want to leave at the end, as I knew I had to come back here, and its fully booked which means no room to swing a cat, or backpacker, or horny Italian man……