A Poem About Dreams...

...and how important it is to hold on to them.

Dream Snatcher

One night, I heard a creaking sound,
Opened my eyes- nothing was found.
But I felt dizzy the next day-
Something had been taken away.
I got up, sat to have some toast,
Daydream about all I love most;
I tried to dream with all my might
But realized something wasn't right.
No dreams would come into my head-
My dream ability was DEAD.
I told my friend about my plight,
And the strange creaking in the night.
He shook his head with great dismay-
'The Dream-Snatcher's been round your way.'
'The Dream-Snatcher? Not heard of him!' 
'Prepare for a story most grim.
He has no shape, cannot be seen
And does something so very mean-
Creeps in at night, and through your ear,
Sucks out your dreams, and blows in FEAR!
You then can't dream when you've awaken,
With no clue of what's been taken.
Instead of dreams, you're left with DOUBT-
Once that's in, it's hard to get out!'
'What do I do?' I cried in shock,
'How do I stop this dreaming block?'
My friend replied 'We must begin
By not allowing doubt to WIN.
In order to keep him at bay,
You must shout "DOUBT! Please go away!
I want to dream! I want to hope!
I believe there is an endless scope
To what I can do and achieve,
All I have to do is BELIEVE!"'.
I copied this, with one last shout:
'NO ROOM FOR YOU IN MY LIFE, DOUBT!'
'Good' said my friend, 'now tell me WHY
You can now bid this doubt goodbye.'
'Because I'm ambitious and smart,
Because I have an honest heart,
There's nothing standing in my way,
I have one life- let's seize the day!'
I felt a tingle in my brain
And in my heart- was I insane?
My friend said 'By your flushed red cheek
I see DOUBT's started to feel weak!'
'But,' I said, 'what if I fail?'
'FAIL's a word you EXHALE
Out of your head, out of your life,
Believing that word ends in strife.
Passion and the will to succeed
Are the two things in life you need.'
My heart began to tingle more
In a way it hadn't before,
'Wow!' said my friend, 'look at your face!
It's red! It's smiling! Now there's space
Where doubt once was, for DREAMS instead!
Dream away, pretty, fill your head!'
If a Dream-Snatcher comes tonight
To snatch your hopes right out of sight,
There's a friend who sometimes seems shy
But when you need him, is close-by,
called CONFIDENCE- Conny for short,
I'll leave you with this final thought-
Dream BIG, dream with limitless height-
Meet that Dream-Snatcher with a fight
When he comes for your dreams tonight.

Picture Source: Dream Reality Control blog

New Things I've Learned About Melbourne- And Life- This Week...

1) The TV advert-jingles are very catchy...I actually recognised a few from last year. Although perhaps this says more about me than the jingles...

2) Masterchef is the best programme on television, bar none.

3) Bondi Rescue is not, but is strangely compelling.

4) Yarraville has an awesome cinema. Small, local cinemas are a dying breed; they need to be brought back.

5) Volunteering in an 'op-shop' (charity shop) allows you to work alongside- and meet- an incredible range of people. It also allows an insight into the puzzling world of bizarre bric-a-brac.

6) Houses in the Melbourne may look lovely- one storey, white-wooden slates, intricate metal gates- but are all BLOODY FREEZING. Although I think my perception- and many Aussies' perceptions- of 'cold' may be slightly skewed by British and Canadian standards.

7) The State Library of Victoria is the best library I have ever been in. Yes, I know that even having favourite libraries automatically qualifies me as a geek.

8) BYO (bring your own) alcohol restaurants should exist more around the world. Same goes for self-twist beer caps.

9) You can definitely tell the difference between shop-bought eggs, and those laid by home-raised chickens. Learned this after enjoying two eggs freshly laid by the hens of Patrick's boss, Nick; we are feeding his hens and cats (Pippa and Luca) while Nick and his wife Wendy are on holiday for the next 2 weeks.

10) If you let a cat out in a garden with aforementioned chickens, it will not necessarily- as formerly presumed- eat them straight away. Saying that, have not checked Pippa for an hour or so.

11) The Dalai Lama comes across as a warm, educated and funny man. Quotation of the week, after the female Australian Prime Minister refused to meet him for fear of offending China: "If your prime minister has some kind of spiritual interest then of course my meeting would be useful...otherwise, I have nothing to ask him. Also, you see, there's no point to seek advice from him. [Pause as an aide whispers something to him]. Oh, her."

First Few Days Back in Brrr-illiant Melbourne...

  Five days in Melbourne, and it feels like I never left! I arrived into Melbourne at 9pm on Wednesday, feeling fuzzy, dozy, hungry (the 'beef' and 'chicken' plane food looked- and tasted- decidedly suspicious) and probably stinking a little of sweat and stale-air. Lucky Patrick. God only knows what dreadful sight greeted him at 5am on Thursday morning, when he had to shake me awake for the 4 hour drive to Corowa, NSW, a little bush-town right on the border of New South Wales and Victoria. Think I was mentally halfway between England and Australia until our Maccy D's breakie stop; a Bacon and Egg McMuffin has never tasted so good. After that, I slowly woke up into the real world, and could actually appreciate the bush-scenery either side of the road- chalky-grey mist dancing over the straw-like fields, made all the more eerie by the rising pink sun behind it.
   It was certainly interesting to get an insight into Patrick's engineering work, as well as everyday life in a tiny rural town; I'm happy to say it wasn't a 'local town' for 'local people'! Luckily the sun was shining, so I could just sit by the river and really get stuck into House Rules by Jodi Picoult- a novel about a crime-obsessed Asberger's boy, Jacob, who becomes the main suspect for a girl's murder. This is my first of Picoult's novels that I've read, and I'd highly recommend it; her technique of writing from different characters viewpoints works really well here, leaving out enough information between the narratives to keep you guessing whether Jacob actually committed the crime.While I'm on the subject, quick shout-out for another fantastic book I've read recently- One Day by David Nicholls. Two fantastic protagonists, genuinely funny writing...please read it!!
   Anyway, I'm veering off topic- always get carried away when talking about books! We're staying in the suburb of Yarraville right now, thanks to my old boss, Matt, and his lovely housemate Alicia. I'm really liking Yarraville so far; it seems like a great place to live...only 15 minutes from the city by train, and with its own Irish pub and cinema! What more could you ask for? Sali, Alicia and Matt's rottweiler, is adorable as well...never seen a dog with such kind eyes (especially when lasagna's about!)
   Right now, I'm chilling out in the only non-chilly place in Melbourne- the State Library of Victoria (for those of you who are also my Twitter friends, yes I used that joke on there as well...the furnace-like warmth in here is zapping any original words from my brain!). I knew Melbourne was going to be cold, so I don't know why it came as a shock to me...brr, brrr and brr again. Still very happy to be here though, and to be able to do all those things I either couldn't, or felt guilty about before...like eating Eggs Benny on a Sunday, before heading to Southbank for a lazy-day of cider drinking. Bliss. The re-discovery of Melbourne doesn't stop here...watch this space!

Back To The Land Of Oz...

...tomorrow morning!! It's so nice to be heading back to Melbourne, a city I'm already so familiar with. An unexpected treat! Crazy to think that I was there this time last year, just about to head to the West Coast...what a year it's been since then! These two months back home have been a whirlwind, in every sense of the word...it's been great to spend quality time with my lovely family and friends, and to be reminded just how great the UK can be.

Onto the next adventure...Melbourne, Fiji at the end of June, then back in August for my cousin's wedding in France then...who knows what will happen? Stay tuned to find out...I promise I'll be pouring my heart out on this blog every step of the way!

REVIEW: MOTHER TONGUE- Bill Bryson

Ah, Bill Bryson- it's always a pleasure to read your work. Intelligent, funny, gently informative- a rare combination. Mother Tongue details the colourful evolution of the English language, or should I say this continued evolution...

   Although published 21 years ago now, there are still many aspects of it that are relevant. However, there are many words around these days- chav, etc- that I daresay might not have been understood in the early nineties. Bryson explores how terms like this enter public consciousness to such a degree that there comes a time when you can't remember them NOT being there! At the moment, I am transcripting my grandad's life story from tapes that he recorded in the early 90's, and he often uses terms that are not in use today, such as 'the pictures' for the cinema. Who knows what the English language will be like towards the end of the 21st century? My grandchildren will probably be using words and terms that I don't understand...probably mostly related to imminent technology that I couldn't imagine in my wildest dreams.

   Bryson explores all aspects of English, from the origin of names, swear-words, different dialects between and within countries, and of course, of the language itself. The present-day prevalence of English is misleading- it is more of a recent language, and more of a conglomorate of other langauges, than you might first assume. He even manages to make the explanation of grammar (a word that makes any English student shudder- or is that just me?) fun for the reader. The different dialects between and within countries was obviously one of the more interesting parts for me, having lived in Australia for a year and acquiring a Canadian boyfriend. It's crazy how people who speak the same language cannot understand each other; Patrick and I must have at least one linguistic misunderstanding every few weeks. Of course, I know of a few North-Americanisms from watching American films and comedies, but I honestly had no idea that words such as 'gutted', 'jumper', 'zebra crossing' and the greeting 'are you alright?' were so distinctly British. I knew that sweets were 'candy' in North America, but who knew they were 'lollies' in Australia? One of Britain's greatest assets- and frustrations for outsiders, probably- is our vast array of accents. 'Dinner' and 'lunch' mean one and the same in the North and South of England respectively; the former is the South's evening meal, which is called 'tea' in much of the North. Confused? Me too! But I LOVE the rich diversity of English dialects; it makes our tiny, often unpopular country all the more interesting and three-dimensional.

   One thing I have learnt from traveling is the arrogance of the English when it comes to language. We just let other nations speak English rather than try to speak in their language. I have asked in travellers what they think of this; they just shrugged and said English was the 'travelling language'. They were probably being polite, but this context made reading Mother Tongue all the more fascinating for me. Why is English the language that everybody speaks? If it was not the main language of the USA- a huge global presence both politically and in the media- would everybody still feel the need to learn English? A tentative debate, especially among (the few) patriotic Brits. The reason the USA, Canada, Australia and New Zealand speak English is because of British colonisation, but ironically, I think the English language would have found it more difficult to survive without these nations. Our reliance on fellow English speakers was really brought home to us in China, where often nobody spoke English; we couldn't even find an English-speaking policeman in Beijing after the tea-scam incident. The Chinese characters meant that we couldn't even GUESS road-signs or shop names...thank god for train times being shown in regular numbers at train stations, or we'd never have gotten anywhere. I'm ashamed to say that this was the only country in which we used our Lonely Planet phrasebook everyday. In other Asian countries, learning 'hello', 'thank-you' and 'goodbye' was enough; their proficiency in English allowed us to be lazy. After the experience in China, I've definitely learnt that we should NEVER just 'assume'' that people will understand us...there's no reason why the majority of Chinese (people involved in business aside) should learn English. If they want to, that's fantastic, but by no means should it be expected of them for our benefit.

   I apologise for mostly rabbiting on about my own experiences with English instead of the book, although this is by no means a reflection of the book's quality; Bryson's enthusiastic writing just accentuated my passion for language. His love for English is truly infectious, and he has half-inspired, half-put me off teaching English as a foreign language! It is a daunting, exciting prospect- Mother Tongue makes you realise just how complex English is- but I'm determined to try it at some point. I would love to read an updated version of this book, to see Bryson's opinion of the future of English right now. My prediction? After traveling Asia and managing to speak English pretty much everywhere (apart from China), I believe that tourism and the media will ensure the survival of English for a good few years to come. Saying that, I also hope that the English-speaking world will wake up out of their language laziness and start learning other languages too...this can only enhance empathy, understanding and friendships between nations.

REVIEW: THE BOOK OF NEGROES- Lawrence Hill

After the struggle of Midnight's Children, this book was truly a pleasure to read. Canadian author Lawrence Hill presents to us the full story of the 18th/19th century slave trade, through the story of charismatic narrator Aminata Diallo. The plot may be fictional, but there is no denying that Aminata's tale was a true story for many Africans during that cruel time. 'The Book Of Negroes' itself is a true document, with the 'names and details of 3,000 black men, women and children, who, after serving...behing British lines...sailed from New York City to various British colonies'.

Stolen from the village of Bayo, Africa, Aminata experiences the slave trade at its most horrific: the three month trek to the coast, the disgusting conditions on board the slave ships, the monstrously degrading behavious of the white slave owners, and the lack of freedom. This book may be a little difficult to digest were it not for Aminata's intelligence and spirit, and the fact that in spite of adversity, she finds love. The power of love and the hope it provides is evident throughout. Aminata's bravery and resilience was incredibly inspiring; to still fight on after constant betrayal is unbelieveable. Though you know that she has survived, for she is telling her story as an old lady, you find yourself rooting for all of her loved ones, and hoping that they will one day be reunited. Of course, Aminata had to be educated and literate in English in order to realistically be writing her life story in her eloquent style: in a similar position to the real-life former slave come writer, Olaudah Equiano. I would be very interested in an account from a not-so-literate slave, one who only speaks 'Gullah'- the slaves' own language...does anybody know if such a novel exists?

It is incredible how fear can stop society from stepping up and declaring that something is wrong. The slave trade went on for hundreds of years before the cruelty of it was recognised: a fact I find difficult to comprehend. How can fellow human beings treat each other like that, and attempt to justify it? Aminata's calm and composed narrative enhances the horror far more than a seething one. Hill has got the tone of his prose completely right here. Though the huge issue of the slave trade cannot be summarised in one novel, a peep-hole into one slave's life is the correct route towards emotional empathy, never forgetting, and prevention from it ever happening again.

After reading two pretty heavy-going novels, time for a little light relief- Bill Bryson's Mother Tongue. Stay tuned!

Ice, Ice Baby...

Despite living close to London, I still finding going to London bars a huge novelty...especially when they're made of ice, and set at a temperature of -7. I've been meaning to head to the Absolute Ice Bar in London since forever, and was thrilled when my good friend Jess took us all there for her birthday. Our 40 minute slot (any longer and we'd have turned into ice sculptures ourselves!) was the perfect amount of time to enjoy our rather fetching blue cape (complete with mittens!), vodka cocktail (in an ice glass, of course!), and the impressive ice drawings on the walls. It was like drinking in Narnia, though I'm not sure C.S. Lewis would have appreciated that comparison! Apparently it changes every six months- a brilliant excuse to venture in again in the near future. Think I'll wear a few more layers next time, though...

Jess, Sarah and Tali.

Alice by the bar.

Erol and Tim.