Love Is All You Need

Now I'm older, it seems that all the world revolves around is love. Every song ever written seems to be falling in or out of love. Every book we read has, if not as the main plot, a subplot of love. Every film we watch includes a mandatory kiss. Love seems like its everything and, if you're single, this can be a pretty damning way of seeing the world: through the perfect and glossy rose-tinted specs of someone else. 
  Recently, I've come to expand my views on love. Rather than see it as integral for 'people my age' or as 'something that will happen if you wait long enough', I've tried to shift my view from finding love in a person to finding love in life. I'm not, at present, looking for the love of my life, but, rather, the love of life, itself. My desire to travel has recently and unexpectedly heightened and to go with it, I've began writing about my intentions to travel and uncover little rivers of life in different places. Maybe it sounds like I'm running away from my lack of love. But I know that, this time, I'm not. 

  But, of course, there are plenty of people actually looking for relationships and "The Undateables" is, quite possibly, the most humbling show that I have ever watched. 

  Undateable. It sounds incredibly derogatory and completely untrue. No one can be totally undateable. The word itself suggests love to be some kind of initiation. Once you've had a date: 'Congratulations! You're dateable.' It's like a trial: once you've had a date you get some more credits, some gold coins, and a certificate. (You don't.) 

  What would it mean if you were to die without have a date? If you were to die, undateable? Some people have never sucked a chocolate fondue through a straw. Others die without having done a sky dive. The vast majority of people haven't lived with Buddhist monks in Nepal. All of these things are fun. They're exhilarating and, the latter, is life-changing. But it's not 'social code' to do things like this. They're 'add on' experiences. Things that "Yeah, if I could/ had the time/ had the money/ wasn't so scared of ..." would be great things to say you've done. But you don't have to. 
  It seems that everyone has to do love. (Or at least, a date.)

  And so, it was for this very stubborn and constructed reason that I vowed I wouldn't watch "The Undateables". But as the advert popped up time and time again over Christmas, I began to realise how important and crucial love is to people's lives. Apart from being a great way to procrastinate and relax after revision, the series is just really really beautiful. It's one of those things that restores you're faith in humanity. It's something that makes you think differently about others. A show that demonstrates the true nature of love. Not everything is the hunky, fairytale one-click wonder moment. It is, very much, like a trial. Something quite remarkable. Something quite beautiful. Something that everyone, irrespective of whether they want it, needs. 

The Happy Place

When people say 'find your happy place' they usually refer to 2 things. Occasionally it's used as a joke - a wind up for an aggravated person. But more often than not, it refers to a state of mind. A place of complete serenity where worries and stress no longer jar your every thought.

So it never really occurred to me that you might actually be able to find your happy place ... And go to visit. 

The other day I read a post on a blog I follow called Absolutely Lucy. It was all about how she remained happy and about finding your happy place. She said a 'happy place' is a place that you've been to which holds some fundamental importance for you. Your 'happy place' could be a park, a beach, a house. Anything that makes you happy and holds happy memories. It's so simple and I don't know why it never occurred to me before. 

I was having a bit of a dip earlier on last week when I happened to read Lucy's post. I began to wonder about my happy place because I needed to get there. It's hard to start to think of somewhere happy when you're not in the mood. But I still tried. 

Lucy's happy place was an island off Malta called Comino. I went there with my family some years back too so I retraced the holiday through my mind, remembering the beautiful turquoise of sea and the spare rocky expanse. We had literally just been dropped off the boat on a baron land in the sea. I remember worrying that the boat would not come back to collect us and that we were sold our death in the package of a 'pleasant day trip to a popular tourist island'. 

It was a good holiday, but this wasn't my happy place. I went through the catalogue of my other recent holidays. This year we went to Borneo - it was my childhood dream come true and, even though it ticked off number 1 of my bucket list, this still wasn't my happy place. Not because I was ungrateful or because I didn't have an amazing time but because the time we spent on the island was so jam packed that there wasn't a lot of thinking time. 

Thinking time. Where had I had a lot pf that recently? Then I found it. My happy place. An island near Bali: Lombok.

We've been there 2 years in a row now to the same hotel. It's an absolutely beautiful place. It's set right on the beach with its own infinity pool that looks out onto the sun setting behind the mountains of Bali. The water is clear and pickled with colourful tropical fish. When you walk the length of the beach: a walk that takes a leisurely 15 minutes, you get to a bend where large boulders block your entrance. The waves crash over these boulders as though trying to break them and there are fish that stick themselves to the rocks and advance with each breaking wave. 

This year, we sat atop these rocks and meditated: a method that James had learnt from his recent trip to Cambodia. We sat and tried to clear our minds. We thought of nothing and listened. There were no people on this stretch of the beach. It was ours. 

Thinking about this place; remembering the warmth of the sun, the stillness of the sound, the erratic push of the sea, the sticky smell of salt, puts a smile on my face. This was the place that immediately took me away from my low spell and gave me drive and motivation. I clung onto a menory that I loved. Something that I wanted to repeat. 

I remember visiting those rocks a couple of times over the weeks and coming with pen and paper. I wrote poems, I wrote feelings, I wrote prose. It worked wonders for my creativity. 

In the light of reflecting upon that holiday, I now have a new determination. Something I've wanted to do for ages was travel, especially travelling solo. Lombok is my happy place, but I wonder how many more happy places there are out there. It is my plan to start out to find my happiest place on earth! Perhaps a bi ambitious, yes, but there's no time for ambition like when you're alive! 

Watching the World Go By

You never really have visions of travelling the world until you're standing still. 

As a day-dreamer and mindless thinker, it never takes long for my mind to wander. 

I'm lying in my nan's partner's garden, looking up at this: 

A massive fir tree brimming with pinecones and a sky flushed with wispy clouds. I could be anywhere.  With the sun, the warmth, looking up into a neutral evening sky. I could be anywhere. 

When I was younger, I always dreamed that I would travel. As I visioned my life as a warden on a nature reserve, I saw Khaled setting rhinos free in Africa. 

In your childhood, the world is your mind's oyster. When you're older, it really does become what you make of it: free to explore, free to use, free to exploit. And so, as I grew up, I became afraid of losing those childhood dreams. My mind would take me anywhere in an instant, and I'd be there. In the middle of a jungle, on a beach, in the Serengeti. One minute in my room, the next abroad. I soon began to realise that if anything I dreamed of was going to happen, I would have to make it: I'd have to plan, find the money, book the time off work. Moreover, (my current fear) I would need to find a job that would give me the flexibility of travel. 

Suddenly, talking to my nan, I had an overwhelming desire to travel. Tomorrow I take my flight home. And whilst I get through plates of food without a second thought, watch films with rapt attention, take toilet stops with only the thought that I'm wasting precious TV/ reading/ sudoku time and snooze freely without concern for my poor snoring, sleep talking and dribbling habits disturbing others, I will pass countless countries. One of which is India - my promised land. 

I once heard someone remark that England is figuratively seen to many as 'the promised land'. Jobs, housing, good quality of life and a relatively safe environment put it streaks ahead of other war torn and developing areas of the world. It gives, as the nickname may suggest, a lot of hope and promise. The vision I see of India is different. 

India had such a profound mental impact on my life. I developed my soul (I felt) and experienced something so vastly different. India is my promised land for the soul. 

As a 12 year old, if I had to pick the places that I'd love to visit, India would have been one, simply because of the sheer size and population. It's like China: I pick it as a place I want to visit because it's big on the map. It stands out. 

When I write my bucket list (and yes, I have to write it multiple times a year), travel comes up quite a lot. It usually reads: 

No. 483 - live in Australia

No. 484 - visit China

No. 485 - visit Japan

There are so many more corners of the globe that I want to see not just the big, almost continental countries. But the small places as well. 

So you might have guessed, I've made another little list. 

7 countries I just HAVE to visit: 

1. The Tioman Islands 

I had never heard about these islands before about a year ago. And since then, I haven't stopped seeing them on the Internet. 

My friend went one time and she was desperate to go back. She sold it to me and I looked at photos of boats that looked like try we're floating in mid-air, the water was so clear. There are turtle rescue service there and with limited access to Internet and public transport, it sounds like a haven for me to embark on some soul rejuvenation!! :D 

2. Borneo 

Now, this is an old one. All I've ever wanted to do, since I was young, was go to Borneo and see the orang-utans. 

As a wanna-be zookeeper, I couldn't think of anything better. But even though I've grown out of those dreams, I still had that wish engrained on my mind. 

Orang-utans are my favourites! 

3. Trinidad

There's no point knowing your roots if you don't make an attempt to engage with them. 

My mum's side of the family is from Trinidad and, although it was different when I was younger, I never had a burning desire to go. But now I realise how important it would be for me to go to my place of partial origin. 

4. Canada 

I think everywhere is Canada. When I see a picture of tall 'Christmas' trees or I see one, like the one in my nan's partner's garden, I think I'm in Canada. 

It makes me feel lovely and adventurous and I feel like I ought to go to see what it's actually like! 

5. Italy

Italia! Need I say more. The food, the people, the rides on the gondolas. And it's so close! It would be silly not to go.

6. Brazil

If the national language of Brazil was Spanish, I would already have booked my year abroad! 

I got into Brazil whilst watching An Idiot Abroad. The beaches look brilliant and the style of living even better. But it's more the dual vision that does it for me. 

I know that there's horrific poverty there, interspersed with scenes of luxury - much like India. 

It's one of those places that you can't be sure if until you go. So I'd better be off there! 

7. Australia

Well, I HAD to put this one in. Everyone wants to visit Australia, right?

My weekend in pictures #1

6 - 11th June 2014 --- BASINGSTOKE, 60TH WEDDING ANNIVERSARY AND THE ISLE OF WIGHT

This weekend has been one of the best that I've had in a long while. I've been so busy these past few weeks making sure that I get out of my room at uni and spending time with my friends. It's been absolutely fantastic and I've enjoyed every moment of it.

So I'm starting what (again) I hope will be a regular-ish feature - MY WEEKEND IN PICTURES. Take One!

Pre-river foot selfie ...

... with minor injuries

In with the crowd

I've always held such respect for the commuters of London. How one might navigate the underground amongst the pull and tore of the trains and jolts of fellow passengers without their daddy's hand to hold was always something that baffled me. Could a transport network be more complicated? It took me until the age of 15 to understand the local bus system which involved just one change at the central station. 

As I left secondary for sixth form, my classmates were commuting by train everyday to their colleges. So unknown to me was this method of travel that I was constantly petrified of  having to return to England and visit family. Yet, when I arrived at uni, I came with a new sense of independence, maturity and courage. Armed with a debit card that would ensure that in my immediate needs I would never run short of cash on a journey, without my parents own anxiety in my mind and with the determination to be confident and outgoing, I began to anticipate the journeys I would take over the coming year with great excitement. 

I'm a novice on the train. In the past 2 years I've travelled only twice an just once was alone. 

But anxiety deserted me as I left my halls for Clapham this morning. Taking pride in step and with a bubbling excitement of finally being in an ACTUAL house sent me on my way. I had had an idea of what I was going to pack at least a week in advance and with 2 days to go, I was already packed. 

I felt a maternal instinct towards my room. There was so much I needed to do. I took the example from my parents. I locked the window, drew the curtains, turned off the radiator, took out the bins, changed the towels and tidied my whole room. In the warm orange light as I lay to sleep at 11:45pm, I felt proud. Finally, I had a responsibility that was entirely mine. I had a duty to fulfil that wouldn't leave me penalised if I didn't do it. Instead it would teach me something I shouldn't forget next time. 

I went to church that morning, feeling the glee of self pride. I was looking after myself. Doing all the things I'd longed and planned to whilst anticipating my return to England from Dubai. I was being independent. But most importantly I was establishing me - I was being someone without boundaries. 

And so I jumped on the bus at 12pm from Southampton to Eastleigh. I caught the train from Eastleigh to Waterloo, Waterloo to Euston, Euston back up to St Pancras and, finally, St Pancras to Bedford. And I knew it was partly a service at Church that morning and the knowledge that home was a 3,000 mile flight away had led me to do it. To remove the apprehension and take the journey. 

And I have done it. I've commuted the underground with less than 2 grunts of sudden one second panic. I've made my way into London, been through it and got myself out the other side in under 4 hours. As sad as it sounds, I don't think I've ever felt so pleased with myself :D 

Hours spent at the top of the bus

Rain, for all the irony, can be just like fire. It can disfigure like the lick of orange flames. And coupled with the wind, it can reap havoc. But when there is a break, that relief of warm sun, that spread of blue sky, it is all that can be desired.

My favourite bus route is the Number 8 to Sandown. Sitting atop the double decker on a perfect and crisp afternoon, your vision stretches across dales, across yellow pasture and across scuzzy trees leeching the landscape like moss. As of yet, my eyes know no greater beauty than the untouched wilderness of the rural Isle of Wight.
 It's been a wonder, a chance to marvel the English countryside in the dilapidated summer. Though the warmth of the bright sunshine can fool no one, it casts a beautiful sheen over the hills. It's a wonderful sight. I've been getting about the Island lately by bus. It's pretty cheap and roaming the area is a lovely way to spend a few hours!

I always say that when an English summer is like this, there is no place I'd rather be and this stands, somewhat, today. Though I've seen more of the world now than when I made that first statement, it does still hold true. There are a few places I would love to be right now but that's not to say that leaving England wouldn't bring pain. The scenery is absolutely BEAUTIFUL and I get myself so lost in the picturesque. All I long for is to be out in it; to eat sandwiches in an isolated field, to rear sheep and turn out horses. Seeing life from the top of the bus, I long to keep rabbits and walk my dog, to pick shells from a shingle beach and to read with the sting of wind on my face.

That tranquility is outstanding. I've been really blessed and I know it's such a cliche; all everyone in England seems to talk about is the weather. But when everything's going a little bit downhill, the continuance of the weather and it's temperamental nature can fill those awkward gaps and take your mind off a few things.

I'm ever so lucky to have this break; to have the ability to move from scene to scene, country to country watching the world from a different perspective because it true; the weather does direct perception. It does so in such a way that, if this gorgeous sun continues, I'll soon be proclaiming England - rightly and wrongly - to be the greatest country on this Earth! :D