As a new member of UWE’s Alumni, the realization that I have been writing to myself for the summer occurred upon discovering my backlog of columns, sat in my (now-broken) laptop. This is a relief, as I begin my career tomorrow and all words have been replaced with nerves.
20th June 2014
It appears that finishing university causes the abandoning of the previously known ‘week’. Time becomes recognized after a cluster of 16-22 days; we were out of the World Cup quicker than I recognized June. Although I know little about the World Cup, two nights out during a particular cluster of days involved being surrounded by excited testosterone; clearly I must pay more attention to sport. Due to the heat-wave I learnt that driving in foam flip-flops is never advisable, and that two topless tattooed men can arrive in your living room at any time (without prior warning), to remove your coffee table. It would be brilliant if my Landlord dealt with the slugs, as opposed to removing furniture for the future tenants. In other news, I turned ‘Two’ on Twitter. Combined with my job search, ongoing writing opportunities and mountainous ‘To Do’ list; I am finally a two year-old with a plan. My cooking is now also adequate (for a two year-old) however a recent nail-varnish-meets-bedding incident reminded me that I will never quite be domesticated. This is probably a blessing. Aside of learning to cook, finishing university has left me with itchy feet; the UWESU History Society trip provided a brief encounter with my new taste for travel.
Prague: the Czech Republic capital that I once knew little about. The ever-changing weather forecasts prior to the trip gave way to a sunny reality. Three hours sleep per night went unnoticed, however the limits of packing did not; black boots were not ideal. Late for the minibus, I’d begun the trip by waking up at 2am to do a face-pack before flying; by 8am I was ruining these efforts with alcoholic cocktails. During my morning Omelette and Cosmpolitan (a genius combination), I discovered I had left my Passport and boarding pass somewhere/anywhere in the airport. Unfortunately, Airport Security did not seem to realize the situation; I was stood in front of the desk as the call-out called out for all in the airport to hear. Leaving my Passport in a toilet cubicle and nearly missing the gates, combined with spilling a much-needed Prosecco on board and nail varnish on the carpet of our hostel demonstrated an eventful trip. Prague was amazing. Despite social media boasting a hopefully-unidentifiable ‘Sleepy-Selfie’, taken whilst I was having a snooze on the flight home (it is a big bad world out there); my two year-old self had to be dragged home kicking and screaming on an equally turbulent flight. After google-searching the definition of Turbulence, it seems that like beauty, it is in the eye of the beholder.
Boxing up my room in Clifton led to insecurity over my ambiguous future; I wanted to go back to Prague, where the most difficult decision was dinner. Everything in Prague is a little ambiguous; from what happens on the hour in the Clock Tower, to jokes made by tour guides about ancient orgies. The sex shops and Absinthe bar stand worlds apart from Prague Castle; in the city where the Old Town literally meets the new, anything goes. Czech currency encourages expenditure due to the exchange rate; with enough £2.50 cocktails it is entirely possible to feel like a millionaire. A particular highlight whilst experiencing this delusion was singing ‘New York, New York’ on an empty dance floor in a Czech nightclub, at about 4am. In reality, I arrived home broke, with no funding to go to New York and no idea what to do with my life. Sadly, the best trip with the best people had already come to an end. That’s the thing about travel; a fling leaves you back where you started. Having had confirmation of my impending flight on the 28th July, I am awaiting round two. Destination: Israel.