Canines

This week, my flatmates got a puppy. As in, a canine. Another one. They thought a puppy would nicely complement their full time jobs, twelve partridge, seven budgies, three daughters, two properties, 300 000 bees and other dog. Of course, just after she arrived, they promptly left me and the slightly-more-mature-but-still-not-very-mature dog to puppy-sit. With full care and full responsibility. Therefore, we took it upon ourselves to wreck havoc, live life by our own rules and have no regrets. Especially the canines. Actually, entirely the canines.

The old and previously 'outside' dog has recently decided that she wanted to be an inside dog. However, she reached a new low when she threw up all over the flatmates’ Moroccan carpet. Luckily, there are, quite literally, six more of these carpets where this one came from. To my everlasting relief, she ate it all again too. To her credit, she did hide the evidence rather well. But what the flatmates don’t know about their Moroccan carpets won’t hurt them.

Ziggy also reached a record low, despite having only been here for a week. You know that nursery rhyme:

‘One, two; buckle my shoe,

Three, four; open the door,

Fix, six; pick up sticks…’ etc etc etc.

Well, Ziggy rewrote the first line:

‘Number twos; in your shoe…’ To be continued next week no doubt. We shall wait with baited breath to hear what Ziggy has to say about ‘three, four.’

As to which shoe it was, I’ll never tell.

But mostly, I just wanted to spam you with cute photos of her, because most of the time, she is just that – cute (psycho, but mainly cute).

Ziggy "Marley" Lambie-Bryan

Ziggy "The Domesticated" Lambie-Bryan

Ziggy "The Pyromaniac" Lambie-Bryan

Ziggy "The Upside-Down" Lambie-Bryan

Ziggy "The Great Adventurer" Lambie-Bryan

Ziggy "The Dead" Lambie-Bryan 

(ft. Rosie Lambie-Bryan)

Ziggy "The Big Eyes" Lambie-Bryan

Ziggy "The Friendly" Lambie-Bryan

Ziggy "The Tired" Lambie-Bryan

Ziggy "The Shameless Selfie" Lambie-Bryan

'Lambie Classics'

Most people that have ever thought of visiting New Zealand have heard of the ‘Great Walks.’ If you haven’t heard of them, they are a series of multi-day hikes around the country, from the deep deep south to the north. They are very popular among tourists and locals alike. These ‘Great Walks’ make spending time in the wilderness easy, pleasant and more or less a breeze. However, they are just that – great big walks. I have never done a ‘Great Walk;’ my family has their own version. These holidays are called ‘Lambie Classics.’

Setting the scene

All ‘Lambie Classics’ are wilderness experiences, however, not all wilderness experiences with my family are ‘Lambie Classics.’ You see there are a number of requirements that need to be met in order for a wilderness experience to qualify for the title of ‘Lambie Classic.’ First and foremost, the trip needs to be organized by Papa Bear. He is the only member of the family mad enough and capable of organizing a ‘family getaway’ in quite this capacity. Secondly, there needs to be at least three members of the immediate family (the original Famous Five). Three members of the family is the minimum required for the personalities to clash just enough to create noticeable tension (on a good day). We also need a token ‘outsider’ to help diffuse said tension and make sure that all the family members are on their best behavior. Granted, best behaviour is still not very good. In stark contrast to the ‘Great Walks’ the ‘Lambie Classics’ usually involve little to no track. What track there is usually consists of man-eating bogs and woman-eating sink-holes. Of course, it also goes without saying that the sandflies are an ever-present feature, keeping the underlying irritation levels at a low simmer. The final, most entertaining and invariable feature of the ‘Lambie Classic’ is one member of the three in the immediate family completely flipping their shit, throwing the baby out with the bathwater, and denouncing the rest of the family.

Papa Bear

Two family members and a token outsider

I got back from a ‘Lambie Classic’ yesterday. 

All requirements were well and truly checked off.

There were man-eating bogs, with Papa Bear disappearing to mid-thigh. There were woman-eating sink-holes, I discovered first hand, as the ground fell out from beneath my feet. There were sandflies. For Africa.

How quaint

And Mama Bear completely flipped her shit and refused to go any further. She claimed she was never going ‘Lambie Classic’ ever again. I have heard this before, however, the problem with ‘Lambie Classics’ is that you never know if your wilderness experience is going to be a ‘Classic’ before you go. It’s the risk we all take. I should, though, take responsibility for my own theatrics on Day 2, when I played my role as the moody, sulky and sullen teenager particularly well. A little too well, perhaps. Maybe. Especially considering that I have supposedly outgrown this stage of my life. Although, recent experience would suggest otherwise…

Moody, sullen and sulky weather to get me in character

There were good parts too though. Like the stars. Like the glow-worms. Like the sunshine. Like the mountains.  Like the 4 am wake up from the pitter patter of rain straight through the trees onto your face. And the cup of tea and gingernuts that followed. At 4 am.

Sunshine

4 am cup of tea

It wasn't all bad.

‘Lambie Classics’ make the best stories. That’s the only reason I go on them.

Reflections on the New Year

Happy New Year! Because that happened… Another year, another minute, another second closer to death. But I guess that’s every minute of every day, isn’t it? Oh, happy days!

The New Year is normally a reflective time of year. Or at least, it might be, if you’re that way inclined. I’m not one of those ‘reflective types.’ I don’t own a mirror. The end. No, actually, I lie. I do own a mirror. I didn’t make time to ‘reflect’ this year. But I did have a fleeting realization that I actually managed to achieve one of my 2015 resolutions. Which was a shock; I felt quite clammy and faint for a while afterward. I, slightly ironically, managed to kill two birds with one stone by seeing my resolution through to the end. The first bird that I killed was by making the resolution a ‘thing’ and actually managing to do it. Not only that but I killed a second bird by fulfilling my life long dream of actually sticking to a New Year’s resolution. I feel that Tony Robbins would be proud of me! I am quite happy to minimize the details of the other five things on my ‘2015 resolution list’ that did not get done including, but by no means limited to do a be a nice person, eat healthily, stop taking your parents for granted and so it continues.

And just while I am blowing my own trumpet about getting things done, I want to talk briefly about today, Sunday 16^th Jan, 2016. To date, it is the most successful day of 2016 because today, I got my priorities back in order. I made a list of things to do today and in the number one spot was ‘have a nap,’ with number two being, ‘baking.’ So, yes, finally, after the chaos of China, the time in Taiwan, the near miss with the fucking tourists driving on the wrong side of the road up past Lake Dunstan on the way to Central and learning how illogical logical computers are after my first two weeks at work, life finally has had some order restored.

Anyway, back to the ‘reflective types’ while I wasn’t reflecting, a though occurred to me about 2016. I decided that seeing as in 2015, I had actually completed one of my resolutions and achieved a life goal of completing a New Years resolution (a life goal I didn’t know I had until after I had achieved it – the world works in mysterious ways) that in 2016, I would not set any resolutions. A wise person once told me that if you aim low, you can never be disappointed. Another close and personal friend of mine who likes to lurk in the shadows rather than in the spotlight has resolved not to make any changes to her current way of life. Her reasons are far more noble than mine. She reasons that this year, her resolution is to be thankful for what she has and where she is. Which is beautiful and noble. Just to clarify, both of these people are real. Not imaginary. Anyway, I too have decided not to resolve anything this year because I have no fucking clue what I am doing or where I am going. Which is fun, but not conducive to New Years resolutions. How can I resolve to be nice to people, if I don’t know who I am going to have to be nice to? Because, just being honest here, I really struggle to be nice to people that I don’t like and I don’t want to make a resolution that I can’t keep. Not any more. Not now that I know how great it feels to complete and achieve!

Sunny bliss /Central Otago, Home

Ooh, and I managed to make it out of China alive, which is fantastic! And I’m still more or less in one piece. I know that travelling is supposed to make you a more understanding and better person, blah blah blah. Think what you like, but I will say this, travelling to China has most definitely not made me any less racist. I have attached some photos after the long drought, now that my blog is not illegal an my internet works sufficiently.

Some temple /Lanzhou, China

Some clean water /Jiuzhaigou, China

A waterfall /Jiuzhaigou, China

A panda /Chengdu, China

Some more pandas /Chengdu, China

Swimmer in some river /Leshan, China

Massive buddha /Leshan, China

Coy pond /Leshan, China

Anshun Bridge /Chengdu, China

Avatar Mountains /Zhangjiajie, China 

I finally made some friends /Xiamen, China

Temple /Tainan, Taiwan

Dome of Light /Kaohsiung, Taiwan

A giraffe /Kaohsiung, Taiwan

Making friends /Lhasa, Tibet

Animals /Lhasa, Tibet

Potala Palace /Lhasa, Tibet

The Everest /Everest Base Camp, Tibet

Jack the Yak /Everest Base Camp, Tibet

Some kid with someone else's camera

/Somewhere, Tibet

Prayer flags /Lhasa, Tibet

Tibet?

Tibet?

The straight and narrow /Tibet

Ultimate Tourist

I have been playing my role as Ultimate Tourist particularly well this week. Some people would call it method acting. I would call it method acting too. Whatever. It's impressive. Even I'm impressed. I rented a four person bicycle; something that I didn't know existed until I saw it. They pretty much fuse two bikes together which is fun, I guess. But the problem was that we only had three people and that it was built for Chinese people. FYI, the Chinese are, on average, a solid head and a half shorter than me. This resulted in a number of rather painful encounters between my knees and the handlebars which did not make me the happiest camper in town, but I soldier on. 

 

Probably the all time low of the week was buying tickets for a my Christmas Day train ride (purely functional, despite how much fun it sounds). After not being able to buy the tickets in the first line I stood in, I was prompted to queue in the elderly, baby and disabled line. No shit. I know I have white skin, and I don't understand Chinese, but I'm not disabled.  For better or worse. Then they must have decided that having white skin and being a giant wasn't actually a disability and I was told to go and line up in a third queue. And all this kerfuffle because an O had been written in place of a 0 for my domestic train trip. Oh, China.  

I went to some hot springs too, and had fish nibble at my tootsies. I am exceedingly ticklish and having whitebait sized carnivores nibbling at my poor feet was not something that I warmed to. I had to concentrate really hard on not moving and scaring them away which most of the time sounded like the best idea I'd ever had. A mild form of Fear Factor Fish Edition. 

I don't know if you have any Chinese friends, but the Chinese love karaoke. Like love love karaoke. I think New Zealanders could love karaoke too, if they were totally gone, if you know what I mean. But no, here they love karaoke completely sober. I don't really understand the appeal of sitting through a minimum time slot of one hour listening to your friends sing along terribly and make a complete hash of all your favourite songs, while you will still be able to remember it all perfectly clearly the next day. Some things are made to last, and some things are made to be experienced only once. And sober karaoke is one of those one time things for me. 

But on the topic of being sober and on the topic of music, I also had my first live Chinese punk rock experience. And it was just that, an experience. My buddy on my right blocked his ears and waited for it to be over. My buddy on my left got amongst and bobbed her head up and down to rhythm of the drums. Her only criticism after the show was the show was too low key, she would have liked something more 'hard core.' Not a concept that I understand because I like music with some sort of melody and maybe some words, rather than just inarticulate screams. But I can do anything for two hours. So I put my experience down to just that, experience. 

A very merry Christmas to you. Peace and good fortune. 

Rando

Curiouser and curiouser - that's how China is. Random events strangely linked by two girls from New Zealand, which yesterday dropped to one. I was abandoned by the roadside. Not literally, but you get my gist.  

FYI, if you really want to stand out at an event where everyone looks amazing, I would recommend attending in a complete lack of sparkles, glitter and make up (of which I had none, because that shit is heavy and ain't nobody got room for that in a backpack). You may not stand out in the way that you want to, but you will definitely stand out. The father is Miss Scotland (who was casually bidding thousands of pounds on auction items at this years 'Miss World Charity Gala') recognised us as Team New Zealand. He attire was the most expensive looking suit I have ever seen, with a shirt that was a shirt but that wasn't made of shirt material. I don't even know what that shit is called, all I know was that it smelt like money. I believe that our total inability to do fancy was out identifier. So we did stand out... Which I guess is good, because all publicity is good publicity, right? 

You know how when you get a bit tired and your filter starts to go. A beauty pageant is kind of like that, but on steroids because everyone feels like they can comment on your appearance and conduct. Four of the top contenders for Backhanded Compliment (also know as Straight Up Insult) of the Week are: 

"You could compete in Miss World next year, if you went on a diet" 

"You look beautiful. I didn't know you could look beautiful. When you are at the hostel you don't look beautiful."

"You're a vegetarian? But you're not skinny!"

"I'm worried about you two [my friend and I]. You always seem to have a large glass of wine with you." 

I am also learning to keep sleep as a priority because I  stop thinking straight when I get tired. For example, I met a Dutch guy at the hostel and proceeded to tell him, in detail, about the one Dutch person I don't like, in the (relative) sea of Dutch people I have in my life. Not good. 

Ah well, if I were perfect life would be no fun and we would have nothing to work on. So henceforth, to improve myself, I will prioritise my sleep, stop carrying around a large glass of wine, go on a diet, always wear make up and work on my aura as a vegetarian. That should be enough for a start, anyway. 

Finally, a shout out to Miss World New Zealand. You were my pick. But it turns out that beauty pageants are as random as my trip to China, which is as random as a random number generator. So yeah...