Wednesday 27 August 2014

British...With A Twang

I've been living in London now for more than ten years and lately I've been thinking about forking out some of my hard-earned pounds for British citizenship. 

I have no plans to make my home elsewhere. I've blogged before about my pride in the life I have built here and I still love London. Yet there is a part of me that wonders whether some change in legislation or circumstance might result in my losing my right to live and work here (for the uninitiated, this is called Indefinite Leave to Remain in the UK).

With all of the travelling that's been going on of late, I love nothing better than coming back to London's grit, its hustle and its stiff upper lip-ness - things that I never thought I'd love given the qualities I miss most from Down Under are our laconic ease and quintessential directness. And my London friends tell me that I'm still identifiably Australian.

But in the last few weeks, meeting new people has been met with 'You sound English - but there's a twang in there? Where are you from?' as opposed to the previous 'Are you from Australia or New Zealand?'

Back in June 2011, I read an article in the Australian Times which asked Are You Losing Your Australian-ness? and at the time, I identified two things:

1. I was about 41% of the way along the list of 12 steps indicating British-ness.

2. That British-ness would overtake me after about a decade.

So it seems that the article was true to its word - linguistically speaking that is. But as we Australians can maintain our Aussie citizenship and hold a British passport, it's not like I have to relinquish everything. It will just be that my divided heart will be manifested in dual nationality. 

Life has a funny way of throwing one a curve ball and while I might be sitting in the dugout waiting for the next 'batter up!' (I'm in America at the moment so please excuse the additional third-cultural reference), previous innings have shown that it's best to be a little prepared.

So it means I have to fork out some cash and get a few details together...like details of the last five years of travelling...to complete my application. 

Now that's going to take some doing...


...because quite frankly, this is just the tip of the iceberg!

Saturday 16 August 2014

Ode To Ghent...

After a birthday of fun
On August day one,
On August day two
A wedding was done
Amid friends old and new
And we boogied on down.

After a big night of play
To blow cobwebs away
It seemed just the thing
To arrange for a day
Of touristic sightsee-ing
In a neighbouring town.

So to Ghent (or to Gent)
On the Sunday we went
By train and by tram
To the place we were meant
To meet a man with a plan
And a boat to cruise 'round.

Despite threat of a shower
We cruised for an hour
Umbrellas at ready
Past turret and tower
Our camera clicks steady.
Not a drop did fall down.






Next up was a talk
And historical walk
Through old cobbled streets.
At architecture we gawked
And ate local treats:
Jenever and waffles warmed brown.







Apple jenever - delicious
We enjoyed the Ghent view
For an hour or two
Then sought a beer
- a good local brew
To wish all good cheer
(no sorrows to drown).

A wide selection of local beverages
So we followed our nose,
Down cobblestone roads
Til we came to a square
Where a man with a pose
Said 'beer over there!'
With an authoritative frown.

Statue of Jacob van Artevelde in Vridagsmarket (Friday Market)

So thirst quenched we went
To a rib joint in Ghent
Before travelling back,
An afternoon well-spent. 
And as the sky to turned to black
We were hotel-bound.

Ghent train station
Glorious ceiling inside the station entrance
So that was my ode
To Ghent, the abode
and an altarpiece of note.

And it does seem to me
There's much more to like
The next time around!

Saturday 9 August 2014

No Bed-Hopping Allowed...

It's been about a month since I posted. 

It's an unexpected state of affairs for me as there's been a lot of great stuff going on including birthday number 45 (note the absence of the all important birthday countdown), a wedding and five overseas trips in the space of six weeks. And I love sharing this kind of stuff.

But I'm full. Like an over-stimulated child at a birthday party, full of the thrill of new people and the excitement of new experiences, who absolutely insists it is not time to go home yet who falls asleep in the back of the car the minute you leave the driveway.

I feel so full that I've struggled to choose something to write about. It's like someone tipped about 20 jigsaws worth of puzzle pieces into my head and I just can't work out where to start. Corners, borders, some obvious part of the middle bit...it's all felt a bit much to deal with and I've found myself going around and around and around - and then doing nothing at all - on a fairly regular basis.

So that's where I am at - I am tired. That's it. Nothing more, nothing less. Just tired.

And as I look forward to being at home - in my own bed - for ten days in a row, well it feels like absolute bliss.

So for the next week or so that is where I'll be...unless well, of course...

This year's winner for the birthday card of best fit...

So Şerefe, proost, santé, cheers and bottoms up!

After all life is for celebrating and there are 356 days to go celebrate until birthday number 46 wraps its arms around me.