Church of Bones, Kutna Hora - Prague

Schwarzenberg Coat of Arms

When I did the long hike outside of Prague to the Church of Bones I was really excited. Apart from having no signs, handwritten directions that looked like it was written with someone's left foot. No one spoke a word of english, not that I ever I expect anyone to when I am travelling. This just meant I had to sign the whole way there. Try signing "which platform do I change to go to Kutna Hora?", yes very funny. Especially for the Czechs. Obstacles aside, I managed and found my way there on this dinky, rickety, pre-historic train that literally had a poop shoot for a toilet. I didn't get it and nor did I really  towards the end. It was like every moment was a fight up sh*t creek with just a paddle. 

Finally I made it there and arriving there made the epic journey all worthwhile. I paid my admission and made my way inside and suddenly I felt really sick when I was greeted with the Schwazenberg's coat of arms, pictured above. If I could capture the experience in a series of adjectives. I went from feeling excited to sick. Sick to acceptance. Acceptance to morbid.  I was transfixed by thousands of human bones, harmoniously organised in a collective and decorative manner. But then I got just plain over it and started to get snap happy, which meant I felt guilty!

Why?

Long story short as I am not one for the detail. Note: this is a very loose account. Way back when, a man went back to Jerusalem collected some dirt from the Holy Land as a keep sake, brought it back and sprinkled the holy soil over this cemetery. Due to this pious act, this cemetery became a hot spot throughout Central Europe to be buried at. During the plague people would haul themselves at their last waking moment to this cemetery. Then they would die. Relatives would also drag their dying loved ones here so that they could die and be buried here too. This influx of bones resulted in a half blind monk re-stacking these bones into 6 human pyramids to make room for more and later a wealthy family, commissioned a wood carver to re-build what you see today, the eery formation, the Church of Bones. 

These bones made me feel a bit morbid. Like "Is this what I have to look forward to?", "Is that how we all wind up the in the end?".  It was just all a bit too much. But nevertheless, well worth the feelings of sick, morbidness and guilt. 

Fun Facts:

- The giant human pyramids are placed on top of each other without being bound together.

- Despite appearances, this is a deeply religious place.

- The skulls of warriors in the Hussite wars are showcased here.

- The chandelier of bones (centerpiece) contains every bone in the human body. 

Welcome to the Church of Bones.

Human Chandlier

Human Pyramid

Human Pyramid up close 

                  

Party People

For many of us, we often overlook the party scene in Berlin. In fact, some of us are completely oblivious to it.

Berlin has spawned a party scene that is eccentric and hedonistic as it is nocturnal. It is simply unmatched. Clubs are open until the last person leaves, whenever that may be and the night starts the next morning, which means you often catch yourself asking,

"When are we meeting tonight?"

"1 am"

"Really? But that is tomorrow. What time do people normally start heading out?

"1 am".

"Ok then. When does everyone usually start to arrive?"

"2 or 3am. Usually 3am".

"3 it is".

Berlin has every club and bar for every vice, fetish and indulgence, far beyond the reaches of our unimaginative minds.

You have a smorgasbord of clubs for gays, bi-sexual, hetro-sexuals and try-sexuals, where they can go to have a big night or exclusively to have sex. Yes there are actual sex clubs where people can loose themselves behind a secret door or if you're an exhibitionist, you can do it right where you are standing.

You can even find yourself in an underground club, if you can find it, which is usually located somewhere between, 'if you blink you could miss it'. Or you can inadvertently find yourself partying it up in the underground station with your fellow commuters to a DJ pumping out a bunch of dirty house tunes with a random trolley by your side.

There is a scene for every appetite, from reggae Rastafarian lovers to lovers of heavy metal. Megadeth anyone? No? Well, how about Anthrax?

Some of these clubs are visually stunning built with creative layouts and multiple levels that over look the levels below. And then there are other clubs that are just downright seedy. So don't be surprised if you catch yourself with someone's sweat dripping on you from above.

And get this. Dress code is strictly dress down for most venues. So dress up and you might not get let in.

Welcome to Berliners. The party people.

Welcome to Berlin

So far my highlight of my trip has been Kuwait and most definitely Berlin. In fact, Berlin takes the cake hands down.

It's wicked cool, liberal, cutting-edge, it is sexually progressive and unashamedly so. You can be who ever, what ever and no one even gives a rats. It's come a long way from the confines of fascism slash communism and its memories serve as a bold reminder that the past is history and the future is here. That change is, has and continues to be tangible.

Rich in it's history, attractions and night life. I spent every waking moment of the six days that I was there doing everything that I could physically push myself to do. Caffeine? Why, yes...

Apart from the obvious highlights. Things that you must do that are off the beaten track include;

- Having a currywurst (curry sausage) especially when drunk, although not essential. Not drunk? No problems. It can be consumed with champagne, to get you drunk, if you know where to find it.
- Go to Check Point Charlie Museum and see Gandi's diary, sandals and Ronald Regan's cowboy hat. Weird but true.
- Go to East Side Gallery and walk until you find this shop where you can get your passport stamped like a bonafide East Berliner or West Berliner.
- Do the underground bunker tour.
- Check out Hitler's hide out.
- Go to the weird and wonderful bars that Berlin has to offer e.g. upside down bar for some good photo op's, or the ping pong bar (Dr. Pong) to compete your way through to survival by playing death by ping pong.
- There are also some seedy, unadulterated, pulsating clubs that are positively gyrating with try-sexuals, that are out to live out their fantasies, which you may want to see. Filled with lounge beds, dimly lit back rooms that come stocked with toys, tubs and suitable contraptions. (So I've heard) Do whatever you like. That's the Berlin way. Just don't do something stupid, like something I would do and stop and stare.

Welcome to Berlin.

My First Frankfurt in Frankfurt

Well there you have it. My first frankfurt in Frankfurt. Ta darr.

Not the most exciting thing but it was easily the most exciting thing in Frankfurt. Looks dubious I know but that Frankfurt was really rather good. There really isn't much to do here I'm afraid. I spent two days here looking and searching for something to sink my teeth into, for something to do but ended up with nothing. Nada. No sale. Well, not completely nothing to do but the only thing really to do here was to walk around in the city and around the old town (Frankfurt Romer), which I completed in a couple of hours. Honestly I saw all the tourist attractions by this point. Leaving me aimlessly watching German soaps.

It turns out the main reason people come here is for business. It's the corporate capital you see.

So if you're ever in town have a frankfurt, have a walk around and make it a quickie. One day, two days max.

And make sure you don't mix the two Frankfurts in Frankfurt. The station that is. There are two Frankfurt Mains. I found out the hard way of course. And I am convinced it is there, just for kicks. Just to see people like me run like a duck and scream, "F****RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRK!!!".

Welcome to Frankfurt.

Platform 9 3/4. Hogwarts Express. All Aboard!!

I am a die hard Harry Potter fan this is true. I wasn't  at first, truth be told. I despised the mass following and hysteria it cultivated. I simply didn't want to be apart of it. I wanted to be separated from the hype. Until one day, a girl from high school, had a copy of the Harry Potter book and I decided to ask her,  rather flippantly, " Is it really as good as they say?". What was supposed to be a one worded answer, essentially ensued into a monologue of how I should read it, how addictive it was, how it is one of the best novels ever written, how I was missing out and how she would bring me a copy. She said "Just read the first book and if you don't like it, then you have made a fair assessment and you can be done with it". She made a fair point and was convincing enough that I decided to read it.

I read it and completed it the day she gave it to me. I could not put it down. I was in love. I continued like this with the following books. From memory, I think I polished off the first four books in less than a month, leaving me eagerly and desperately awaiting for the next one.

And I remember the day I saw someone post on their Facebook profile, evidence of themselves standing in front of Platform 9 3/4 at King's Cross Station. I was absolutely guttered. Why couldn't that have been me? I actually felt this surge of jealously. Then I hated them. So much so, it became quickly added to my bucket list Lol.

So when I was in London I didn't waste a moment getting there. I went to King's Cross station and asked while I was purchasing my ticket to Cambridge, eyes filled with excitement, "How do I find Platform 9 3/4?" Wow I felt like I was really going to Hogwarts. The lady behind the counter  cheerfully gave me directions there. Now, I could tell you how and where to find it because it isn't where you think it should be, but that is half the fun! Besides you have to work for it, just like Harry!!

I found my way there, my heart was filled with absolute joy. I unashamedly harassed some random to take my picture again and again, while wishing that I had my battle scar and Gryffindor robes in tow. (Even though I was supposed to be blending in with these Muggles). This, right here, was sincerely one of the happiest moments of my life. So sad but it is true! How can three quarters of a platform, half a trolley and a sign bring me so much joy?  I even walked away from the platform smiling, even at all these random nobody's. I couldn't contain myself, I was so thrilled.

If you're also a die hard fan, make sure you pay an honorary visit to King's Cross Station and break out the camera shots. Just don't forget your Nimbus 2000, elder wand, quill, owl, magical school books, Marauders Map and floo Powder. Oh and your Hogwarts admission letter. You can't forget that!

And if you are feeling particularly sad that it is all over with the final movie release of the Deathly Hallows Part 2, just as I am. Never fear because, "the stories we love best, do live in us forever. Whether you come back by page or by the big screen. Hogwarts will be always there to welcome you home". J.K. Rowling. 

Welcome to Platform 9 3/4.

Me feeling pretty happy with myself 

Food Porn: Take 3

One of the perks of having a sister and one that blogs about food, is most definitely the freebies. How lucky am I to have a sister like her. She is willingly aiding to my stash of food porn. To give you a bit of a background, my sister did a poor review about Apsley's restaurant (one Michelin) in London and boy did they find out about it. And we knew they did because they invited her back. Twice. Making it in total, the Apsley's trifecta.

She took my mother at their first invitation and they were ridiculously spoilt. I remember my sister calling me and listening to her explain to me how the chefs personally cooked for them. How the wait staff lavishly adorned them with truffles, caviar, lobster, champagne etc. Oh god I felt like I had dialled one of those 1300 numbers it was so sexy. The food that is, not my sis.

Now it was my turn. They invited her back for the trifecta and how could I refuse when summoned? And I can honestly say with my hand on my heart, I had the most overwhelming, exquisite, mind blowing, orgasmic, heart stopping meal at Apsley's. It was that incredible.

There were copious amounts of "Oh MY GOD",  "Wow that is good",  moments coming from my sister's mouth. My mouth included. Not to mention, eye rolling, eye squinting, hmmm-ing, gasps for air, finger licking, lip licking and other expressions of blasphemy. It was all very intense.

Out of context, you would think we were not at the dinner table. If you ask me, it was all a bit too funny and if not, really strange to my sister react in this way. I don't think she was even aware of it herself. At one point, I had to laugh and tell her to, "Ssshh", and ask "Do you hear yourself?"

It was a once in a lifetime experience having these Michelin star Chefs cook for us. We received a personalised 14 course menu and amouche bouches, where we were served oodles of champagne, caviar, lobster, foie gras, 40 year old aged balsamic. All ceremoniously served to us all thanks to my sister's blog.

One of the highlights was when my palette experienced for the very first time, quite literally, an explosion of delicate fluid motions of flavour explode in my mouth when I consumed the Carbonara Fagottelli. To do so, you have to place the carbonara pillow on your spoon, place it in your mouth as a whole and push your tongue to the roof of your mouth and allow for the fluid centre to explode and ooze the melt in your mouth liquid carbonara filling. Wow it was like I had devoured a liquid fireworks display. Simply stunning. Having one, only serves to beg for more and to beg the question, how does one encase pasta around a liquid centre filling?

I ate so much that I had to excuse myself to the ladies and sit myself on the toilet with the lid down to adjust myself and to find the most comfortable position possible. Not my most gracious moment however, I will care to share. I leaned back and stretched my legs to allow for my food baby bump to form. I wasn't appropriately attired for the occasion considering I wore a skin tight flaming red dress. And I mean skin tight and flaming. Could I have drawn any more my attention to my engorged stomach? I really ought to have worn my moo cow dress slash fat suit to allow for some girth. But my finest hour was when I could not consume anymore that I went back to the bathroom and decided to throw up in order to make room for more. Don't judge. It is a successful concept inspired by the Nordic Vikings. Ahem, yes really.

So brace yourselves and welcome to some much needed, nasty, filthy, unadulterated, mouth watering, decadent food porn issue. Ever.

18 year old & 40 year old balsamic vinegar
The most efficient foodgasm ever made.

The sound of the perfect bread

Not wanting to be wasteful we ate every last drop
of the Balsamic Vinegar they served to us.
To which they kept right on serving us!

Trio of Aubergine, Blue Fin Tuna and Pomelo

Handmade Buckwheat Spaghetti and Mackerel

Seabass, papaya and cucumber
(Oh god I am getting flashbacks)

Group shot
Amouche Bouches

We gasped for air right at this moment

Langoustine, Fennel and Grapefruit dished w Caviar
(Wow this takes right me back)

Sea Scallops w Crescentine & Sweet Chilli Vinagrette

Foie Gras Terrine w Smoked Apple drizzled with Amaretti Powder
(Sweet, salty & fatty finish over the palette. Just mindblowing)

Lobster w Taglionlini
(Yes size does matter. These lobster pieces were perfect in size that was
 succulent, tender and juicy to the taste.
The Tagliolini had the most silky smooth textural tendrils I have ever tasted.)

Wild Garlic Risotto served w Albacore White Tuna.

Lobster Salad w White Asparagus, Artichokes and Strawberries

Carbonara Fagotelli - Signature dish, as described earlier.

Rumoured to be Michelle Obama's favourite dish when she visited
La Pergola in Rome.

Pigeon wrapped in Puff pastry drizzled w Mustard Seed Sauce
& Balsamic and Apple Juice reduction

Rum Baba served w Pistachio di Bronte ice cream 

White Chocolate Ball encased over a frozen Meringue centre
served w Lime & Passionfruit

Coffee surprise of Marscapone Fondant, Vanilla Ice Cream &
Amaretti Mikado

Petit fours that came out as petit tens!

Relationships & the London Underground

The London Underground is kind of like having a bad relationship. When you meet it for the first time, you're excited by the novelty of it all. You want to go for a ride, you think it is taking you places you've never been before and you kind of like it. In fact, you like it a lot. Things are off to a good start.

Then you get to know it a bit better. It never arrives on time, you can never count on it to be there when you need it to be. You expect it to work but then suddenly, it doesn't. You realise it gives you mixed messages, it tells you to "Stand to the Right" on the escalator and then to "Keep Left" when you exit through the stairs. So you never know where you stand with it. It has signs that lead you astray, that get you lost telling you Trafalgar Square is here, when actually it's really over there.  Or worse yet, it doesn't give you anything at all, leaving you alone, lost and confused. If anything, it's a nuisance and it drives you mad. You can't live with it and you can't live without it. So you keep coming back for more, time and time again because things go back to being good. But really you go back simply and purely because you have to.

It also doesn't know where it is going sometimes. Which really drives me nuts. Take the Northern Line for example, it splits into four directions. One line, four directions. Could you be anymore absurd? You are deliberately doing this to wind me up aren't you? And if you are looking to go off into one direction (out of the four), it says something ridiculous like "via Charing Cross" or if you are going another way "via Bank". God you are not making any sense at all. Wouldn't it have been easier if you had of just said wherever it is you are actually going, being the "final destination", similar to every other transport system in the world? Why can't you just get to the point? Or better yet, safe the confusion and call it something completely different as opposed to having four different versions of the one line.

And sometimes people throw themselves in front of the tube rather than go on it. Really they do. Not because they hate it that much. Well, I couldn't say for sure. But it happens often enough, that when there is an announcement that the, "The District line to Wimbledon is experiencing delays due to someone going under", everyone's first thought is "Again? what a nuisance?" Sounds cruel I know, but that is how people think here. There was even one of those group emails circling around titled, "You know you have lived in London for too long when..." and one of the dot points read "You think it is a nuisance when someone kills themselves on the tube". Wow, that is bleak.

I even googled suicide rates in the London Underground and I found that it was 1 pound 50 plus VAT. Ouch, A bit steep hey? And the reason they announce someone has gone under is because they want to inform passengers that the Transport for London is not at fault for the delay. And here's a fun fact. If a tube driver witnesses three people who kill themselves on the job, policy states they are entitled to retire and access their pension immediately.

At the heart of any relationship, you kind of can't help but have a soft spot for it, maybe even love it. Despite its flaws, it is so London and one small part of what makes it so.

Welcome to the London Underground and my relationship with it, till death do us part.

Material Girl

Me and a friend Charlie, were on our way home from a Friday night out in London. We were standing waiting for our tube chatting away when this guy approached me and said "Excuse me. Do you mind feeling my jacket and telling me what fabric this is made out of?"

Confused by it all I said, "What?"

Despite the look on my face he continues and rephrases the question, "Do you mind feeling the fabric of my jacket and letting me know what it is made out of?" He leans in and gestures for me to follow his lead.

I respond to his request and I obediently take the fabric and rub it in between my fingers. Confused by his request and even more so by what his jacket is made out of. I think long and hard about what the fabric is actually made out of.

I finally conclude, "Ummm... a cotton polyester blend?".

I think to myself, I have the right answer and at this point I am feeling pretty proud of it too. He smirks, he grins and cheekily says, "Don't you mean... boyfriend material?"

Boom tish.

Welcome to bad pick up lines. And to girls that fall for them.

Fear of flying & Bad Landings

Sounds strange I know but I have this fear of flying. Nothing too serious but it is kind of ridiculous isn't it? I love travelling but I hate flying. I am like God's cruel little joke. I tend to suffer this anxiety right about when the aircraft is taking off, landing, experiencing turbulence and any weird noises the plane makes, which more often than not, is all the time. Funnily enough though, the only thing I do love on board is the food. I love plane food and I mean, I genuinely love it. "Chicken or Beef?" "BEEF!"

Did you know that food heats at a higher temperature when it is at 45,000 ft high. It also doesn't taste the same as it would on ground, so they have to make food more jam packed with flavour in order for you to even taste the stuff at that altitude. I digress.

I experienced the worst landing of my life into London. It almost killed me, well thats what it felt like anyway. Despite the amount of times I have flown, there I was, nervous again. I fly quite a lot too. I mean I fly for work and then I make a commitment to take a trip at least twice a year. You would think I have this firmly under my control. Not even. The other day,  I was even taking deep breaths and to make me feel more at ease, my sister took my hand into hers and held it. And looked at me lovingly with her big brown eyes and said "It's Ok, you will be fine". And to think I used to love flying as a child and the bit I loved most was of course, during take off and landing. Turbulence was even better.

So as we were going in for landing. The plane was significantly wobbling to the left and then to the right and back again. All I could think was, "Are we going to topple over and flip?" For some reason the pilot couldn't line up the aircraft and keep it level for the last 10 minutes of the flight and we were already experiencing turbulence for the last 20 minutes. So I was already in sick mode. When the pilot finally landed, I heard the loudest bang of my life, which was the sound of the tires hitting the runway and because the brakes hit the runway with such intensity. The plane rebounded off the runway and back onto it again. So we technically landed twice. The pilot slammed the brakes and the plane came to a screeching halt. Everyone was thrown forward from their seat, to the point where everyone had to throw their arms forward to protect their face from being smacked by the seat in front of them.

But my sister, takes the cake. She took a flight in South America and when she boarded the plane it was one of those unwanted Russian fighter planes. The interior was simply the shell of the plane with unsecured plastic seats, so you had to essentially play musical chairs to get to your seat. No seat belts either. When the pilot went for gold, the pilot slammed the brakes and the aircraft did a 180 degree turn and spun the plane completely around. The plane was facing the direction it had originally came from. As for everyone, they were everywhere. No one was in their original place from when they had boarded the plane. Better it was you than me sis!

Welcome aboard, to fears, flying and bad landings.

Auschwitz

On my travels I was deeply saddened to learn that while a friend mine, Chris was standing in line to enter Auschwitz that there was a group of neo-Nazis bearing their swatstikas on their arms attempting to enter the Auschwitz premises. Much to the distress of others, they were there to pay homage to the work of the Nazi party. They obviously didn't get very far and were escorted out by security. Sad but a true story.

On the other hand, here I was standing in Auschwitz, distraught and deeply distressed by the experience. Even on my way to Auschwitz, I was desperately scrambling to hold my shit together amongst the bus full of people so I would not look like a complete loser and proceed into the ugly cry. It probably wouldn't have mattered as everyone around me fell asleep on the journey there. But there I was, at the edge of my seat watching this video, gripping onto my bag, heart aching, eyes watery and immersed into the screen, learning and watching the ugly truth about Auschwitz. A purpose built facility engineered to exterminate the Jewish race on a full fledged scale. The footage is so overwhelming. I almost threw up.  No joke. And you can never truly appreciate the grandeur of Auschwitz until you have seen a birds eye view and come close to it, face to face. Oh god I was so sick.

When you come to Auschwitz, you can see infinite amounts of clothes, glasses, shoes, locks of hair, personal belongings as far as they eye can see. Where people were kept, how they were tortured and killed. If you haven't seen Schindler's List by Steven Spielberg, I would highly recommend it. It is surprisingly very accurate in terms of the detail of the Auschwitz camp, no part of that death camp was embellished nor glorified for the Hollywood screen.

Being there was easily one of the saddest moments of my life and equally I felt very lucky. Lucky to be living the life that I lead. That I could be fortunate enough to have four months to travel and to experience the world at its best and worst. To have family and friends that I adore, who love me just as much as I love them. To have my health and to even have a job! Get out.

Even though life, at times, hasn't always been too kind to me and I promise you it hasn't, life isn't so bad after all. What I understood in that moment was that, these people that were brought here, lived to die. I've always believed that life should be experienced fully with mind, body and soul. Otherwise, you are simply not living. These people had only their bodies, everything else was forcibly stripped away from them.  And I think it takes moments like these to make you realise, to appreciate and remind us, how fortunate we all really are.

They say, "Silent gratitude isn't much use to anyone", so here I am giving thanks, with arms wide open to all that is good. And I wonder, what are you thankful for?

Welcome to gratitude, to giving and saying thanks.

Food Porn: Take 2

I've just completed a Kuwait - Dubai, Dubai - London and a London - Poznan (Poland) flight, all in the space of 36 hours. This was torture.

Irrespective of the lack of the sleep, I was excited by thought of eating some Polish food. Even looking at it would have been just fine.  OOH yes… brand new porn stars in the making, for some desperately needed food porn.

Coming from Dubai and Kuwait, made me realise how much I like pork. It’s illegal in both these countries. So don’t even think about bringing it on board your flight so I am told. 

Deprivation of pork or knowing that it was illegal made me go absolutely crazy for it. Perhaps a simple case of, you don’t know what you’ve got til it’s gone or wanting what you can’t have. Whatever the case. I decided to go on a scavenger hunt for the stuff in the UAE.

I went to MacDonald’s on the look out for a bacon and egg mc muffin. They had one but their very own version, with beef bacon. Grrrr... So I went to the supermarket with my determination in tact, on the hunt for the forbidden pork. All pork products were made with beef substitutes. Silly I know but my stubborn streak got the better of me and I ended up doing this several times. I was so sure there had to an exception to the rule considering I have unleashed so many already!!

Anyway, Poland was rife with pork. They love pork! And they do it so well, especially the cured meats. Just to die for. My sister even said, “ No wonder the Poles always complain about the ham in England. It is just so good here”. And good it was. Feast your eyes over the food porn I have prepared for you earlier. Please enjoy. And feel free to click on them for a closer look. 

Cured Polish Meats

Polish Sausages

Cured meats - from afar

Cured meats - up close

Polish Ham

Ham about to be EATEN!

The best ham I have ever tasted, found in Warsaw, the Old Town square

Oscypek - Special kind of cheese dessert made
in the mountain regions

One thing I did notice is that the Poles love to eat ice cream in the freezing cold, just as if it were summer.  This eating habit of theirs was interesting to observe. I was very amused. Yes, it's the simple things in life. So I made like a Pole and I tried the ice cream despite how cold it was and it is was so delicious. If you ever come to Poland, you have to come to these stands and try this ice cream.   

                         

So good I had to capture this moment on film!

Kebabs in Poland are AWESOME too! Who would have thought? I’ve just come from the UAE and Eastern Europe is where I find the best tasting kebabs. Madness. It’s got some good word of mouth too. I’ve met countless people who have heard the same about Kebabs in Poland. I still get flashbacks...

OMG YUUUMM  

Welcome to Poland and my food porn, take 2. 

Who's Got Talent?

Arabs Got Talent

Behind the Veil

I really wanted to go to the Grand Mosque in Kuwait and was told I had to cover up in order to gain entry. I wondered to what extent? And was told that I would need to wear the hijab to go incognito. Perfect.

I’ve always wanted to know what it was like to get behind the veil. Long story short. I had a pretty nasty experience in Morocco, and as a consequence, all I wanted to do was cover up and go into hiding. But that was so long ago and now, I just wanted to know what it was like.

One thing I picked up in Kuwait is that nurses wear a white version of a hijab/burka to signify that they are nurses. I was like no way! You don't say... And took me 3 visits to the hospital to realise this too. Thanks Hanna for getting me there too btw! 

For Hanna, this was also her first time covering up and I most certainly had to compensate for her lack of interest. I suspect she was daunted by the task ahead while I was jumping up and down with excitement. Literally. I wondered how I would look, how it would feel and if would I be treated differently? Kind of like if I wore a fat suit.

We managed to borrow some head scarfs and the gown from Hanna's relatives and we drove to the Grand Mosque. We had somewhere to be, prior to and Hanna didn’t want to spend the whole day in the robes and we couldn’t sacrilegiously replicate a Muslim in front of the mosque. So we decided to find somewhere en route to get changed. The water park. YAY!

I have to admit, putting the robes on was one of the funniest things I have ever done in my life. Hanna was getting her kicks too. Not that wearing a hijab was funny. I just wasn’t used to seeing myself like that before and I deceptively looked like a sweet little Muslim girl. So did Hanna. MUAH hahaha. And it was sooooo comfortable!! I could have worn it everyday. Definitely not too hot either and ideal for maternity wear.

What was even funnier is that it actually had the reverse affect on men than I initially had anticipated. I received much more attention. Wallah, just what I needed. I wore my sunnies so you couldn’t see my face and I attracted even more peering eyes. Urrghhh WTF? And apparently if I wore the burka and only revealed my eyes, the men would have been even more interested. 

I later discovered The reason why men are more attracted to women with the viels is because men are more curious to find out who is behind the veil. That is so kinky. I even showed photos of us to Hanna’s auntie of our dress up and she said how beautiful we looked. I suspect this is also how the men feel too. Testament that beauty is a matter of perception.

If you ever come to Kuwait, come and see the Grand Mosque. The structure itself was simply breathtaking. And while you’re at it, get behind the veil. It was definitely a highlight of my visit here.

Welcome to the Grand Mosque, through and behind my veil.

            

Junk Food Nation

Who would have thought? Kuwaitis' love their junk food. The whole country is rife with the stuff.

I don't think I have ever seen such a ubiquitous presence of types, varieties and chains of junk food in any country I've been to. Oh and they love their cheese on everything. They even have cheese in dessert! No complaints here. I could inject the stuff.

And you are probably thinking America is worse. Nuh arghh. At least America has healthy options, organic ones too. In fact, they have even combined junk with organic ingredients therefore making it healthy. E.g. Chipotle. The Mexican God food! And yes... I do have food porn pics of it stashed away somewhere...

Junk food is even more accessible here. It is literally cheap as chips, more socially acceptable and delivered 24 hours. And Kuwaitis' actually utilise this 24 hour service. I remember going to someone's house for a family lunch and I was surprised to see that they had ordered take out to entertain us. On another night, we had ordered in. I tallied our purchased items at 13 and it cost us 3 Kuwaiti Dollars, which is 9 AUS dollars. Crazy.  That meal could have fed 6 people.

As a consequence, more people order in than prepare a home cooked meal and I was junk food-ed out. It is just more cost effective. In fact, most Kuwaitis' don't really know how to cook, or clean for that matter. They all have maids. The population has a serious overweight and diabetes problem and in world stats they sit in the top 10.

Who would have thought right?

Welcome to Kuwait, the junk food nation.

How to pick up: Love Street

So I know I said that boys and girls are not meant to co-mingle in Kuwait. But I also said that I found a very interesting loophole. Did I not?

Unearthing of the surreptitiously underground Love Street went down a little something like this...

Me: "So you can't talk to boys and alcohol is illegal. What on earth do you do to have fun?" Because we all know that the only two things in life that are fun are boys and alcohol.
Hanna: "You go to Love Street".
Me: "Ok which is...."
Hanna: "Where people go to meet people and pick up".
Me: "OMG we have to go!"

So I have never experienced it before and if you are not Kuwaiti you are likely not to have either. Even at this point, I am already being pre-warned from Hanna that it is quite the experience. Her brother on the other hand just said it was disgusting, and with gusto too. Ok, so now I definitely need to go.

I had never done this before so there was a lot of subtleties that I had to pick up and I have to admit, I was kind of nervous.

1. Your car must be clean, otherwise you will not pick up. Hanna's car was covered in dust from the dust storm and we were advised we wouldn't get picked up. Your car is your outfit and it must look presentable.

2. The type of car you drive is directly proportional to the standard/quality of person you will pick up. Works more favourably for a male if he has a good set of wheels, while this potentially has an inverse effect on the ladies, you may be perceived as being high-maintenance. Better than a bad outfit, if you ask me. And yes complete bullshit I know, but hey, I only report on this stuff.

3. You must pump your music when you drive down Love Street. This is your mating call, so the louder the music the greater the call. Like DOOF DOOF loud... you feel me? But you should turn it right down when you have come to a stop in traffic or if you turn into a neighbourhood street. You don't want to look like a complete slut, now do you?

4. When a guy makes eyes at you and you are interested. The way to show a guy you are interested too is to overtly smile back at him. And I really mean you have got to throw yourself out there. Something I am not quite capable of. I know I am totally sweet an innocent therefore, I failed appallingly. The girls forced me to do things I never did before (as in flirt) and it took me 5 times to get it right. But even though I was red with embarrassment, I soldiered on like a trooper and I got there in the end. Oh god, who am I?

5. If a guy asks you to wind down the window whilst in traffic. Get rid of him. He isn't a keeper nor after anything serious. He just wants your number and to move on to the next. A real gentlemen would signal that he would like to go somewhere private to talk further and then follow you into a back street away from judgemental peering eyes. Remember, all this and much more must be done in stealth.

6. If you think his car is lame and that the guy is even lamer. Give him the filthiest look possible. Do the squint, look him in the eye, work your way down and back up again and look away. This means = eff off.

7. Alternatively, and sometimes you are forced down this road, (Hahaha get it? road.) because the guy just won't get the hint. You can loose him by out running him. Or if you see a guy trying to catch up with you and you know you are already not interested. Wait until he drives up next to you and hit the brakes and adios. He'll get the hint.

Of course we found ourselves one lucky man. Quite the catch. Bentley and all. Take a closer look. Definitely one to take home to mother.

Welcome to Love street. Wallah...

No Boys Allowed

Strictly speaking in Arab countries ladies and gents are not allowed to co-mingle. This is something I have learnt through my travels in Morocco, Dubai and more recently in Kuwait. 

In essence, boy and girls are not allowed to be together, talk to each other, even be seen next to each other. Exceptions to this rule are allowed when a female is accompanied by a male guardian from her family whether that be her father, uncle or brother.
Contraception? Who needs it.

Dream come true or perhaps, a worst nightmare to some? I guess it depends on who you talk to. My father would have relished the thought of me growing up in an environment like this and maybe even myself. Well, only up until the age of 15.
Of course, rules were made to be broken and I discovered how to as well, as always.

Consequent to these standards, there are certain protocols that need to be observed between the sexes. Failing most, I thought I would compile, from a female perspective a "how to guide"on what is appropriate and inappropriate for ladies and gents.

Ladies...

- Don't touch them! Why did I have to grow up to be such a touchy feel-y affectionate person for? I REALLY had to remind myself "Not to touch" the men on the shoulder, or tap them on their arm to get their attention. You're better of saying  "Oi". When meeting and greeting males in Kuwait it is perfectly acceptable to shake hands, which only serves to confuse me more. But I can deal.

- Don't make the same mistake as I did and sit next to men. Don't even stand next to them. This includes at the dinner table, taxis, trains, restaurants. Anytime there is a male present. Steer clear. Yes this includes the lift ladies. I even saw a woman refuse to get into the lift that I was in because a male was there. Which meant, I too was not supposed to be in there with him. Ooops...

- Don't talk to them either. Especially not to someone you don't know in public and particularly not in family friendly places. Shopping for goods seems to be the only time you can speak to them though.

- Slightly irrelevant to the topic at hand but thought it was worth noting, that it is best to avoid direct eye contact with men. It will not matter how you look at them, they will think you are giving them the come hither eyes. Oh and not too much giggling either, they will think you being a hot ass flirt.

Interestingly enough, these protocols were to some extent enforced.

In Dubai, I saw a male in one of the female carriages standing next to his daughter minding his own business. A uniformed Metro lady appeared and asked him to leave and make his way to the male carriage because he wasn't allowed to be standing with women. That's when it hit me I was standing in a female and child only zone. I hadn't even noticed up until that point. However, women do have the option to stand in the male carriages if they choose to.

I was also told that in the water park in Kuwait, visits are rotated based on sex. From women only, women and children only to both men and women. Depending on the day of visit, this will obviously dictate dress codes. Women are free to wear bikinis if there are no men are present otherwise they must cover up.

Welcome to the Middle East and the separation of the sexes. 

Welcome to Kuwait

I know what you're thinking. Why Kuwait?

I have my reasons. My best friend lives in Kuwait for the time being and the unique opportunity presented itself to see Kuwait through a local's eyes. She is half Kuwaiti. So how could I say no. It was too good to pass up.

I must admit, prior to coming here I had my preconceived notions about the place. Is it a bomb? Is it the pits? And to be fair, the only reason I thought these things is because everyone in Dubai said it was a hole with no alcohol. Yes it is illegal.

But I thought how bad could it be? One of my best friends has been living here for two years. But then again, she really does hate the country. And yes she told me this after I bought my ticket to Kuwait, the clever thing.

Within the first five minutes of being here, Hanna and I are driving out of the airport. Some random guy in another car makes eyes at me, and he makes a distinctive eyebrow lift which is accompanied with a cheeky smile.

Confused, I ask Hanna.

"Some guy did a funny eye thing at me. Why did he do that for?"
"Like how?" So I made eyes at her, did the whole she-bang, just as he did to me.
 She laughed and said.
"He wants your number, just look straight ahead and avoid eye contact or he might follow us".

And it wasn't too long after that Hanna had to slam the brakes to avoid a collision in the middle of an intersection. There were a couple of guys doing donuts in the middle of it. The car had no wheels and sparks were flying left, right and centre. They were going round and round in circles blasting their music over the deafening screeches of their so-called wheels. Traffic was everywhere.

It's only been my first hour here. Kuwait is nucking futs and already, I'm in love.

Welcome to Kuwait.

A day lost in the Kuwaiti hospital system

So it's my second day in Kuwait and already I've already managed a trip to the hospital.  I am visiting my friend Hanna and she works in an animal shelter called KS Path, where she is shelter manager.


Long story short. She got bitten by a feral cat and she was in a lot of pain, in fact her whole hand was swelling. So right after work we go to the hospital to get her tetanus shot, where she was told she may need to return tommorrow to get a rabies one too.


The next day, her hand had ballooned even further. Puss was coming out of her hand. OMG YUM. I love puss. We return to the original hospital and wait 30 minutes to be advised that she will need to go to the emergency room at another hospital. Already we don't know where the hospital is, so the doctor draws us a map. So off we go to emergency. 


Hanna's brother, Mattias is driving because she can't change gears and he doesn't know where he is going either, so he is following her lead. But then again, neither does Hanna. So it's the blind leading the blind. And to make things easier, there was not one single sign to the hospital. Go figure. 


2 long hours later we finally find the hospital because we decided to ask a fellow driver in the parallel lane where it was. But when we get there, there is traffic inside the hospital compound. Like an actual grid lock. OMG seriously? My friend was being sent to emergency, I would hate to think if she was in a real emergency, even though she kind of really was. 


So we make it through the doors and go to reception to get Hanna attended to. Nobody is there. Hanna's first assumption is, they must be on a tea break. "What? All at the same time? Not even in shifts? You have got to be kidding me right?" She responds "Probably, Kuwaitis love their tea breaks". 


A couple of minutes pass, then two ladies appear but already it seems very difficult to get their attention. Other patients start pushing in. 15 gruelling minutes later we are finally attended to and we are told to go to emergency which is in the next building.


We go to the other building and make it to reception and the lady is busily texting away, she takes one glance at Hanna and continues to text. "Ahem... excuse me... help?". I got nada, nothing, no sale. So we wait until she is done texting and she tells us where to go. We head to that room, and another lady tells us, "Where you need to go is,  down the corridor through the second door to the right". 


Ok. So off we trot, clippity-clop, tra-lah-lah-lah-lah, which brings us right back to the texting lady. SIGH.  Texting lady decides to ask her colleague where we are supposed to go. And she gives us, what we suspect are the right directions. We think...


These direction take us to another building. We arrive at the reception of that building and already I am greeted with a baby in a critical condition and a guy bandaged in a wheelchair in the reception area. Yep we definitely found the emergency section alright. Yippie!!


We make our way past the baby and speak to the gentlemen at reception and he is already hassling Hanna for being Kuwaiti and not speaking Arabic. He finally decides to drop it and tell us where to go, where we are to take a ticket and wait in line for the next available doctor.


We walk into the waiting room and I quickly notice something a bit left of centre.

Colour Code for Patient Identification

15 or so minutes later, our ticket number pops up and we go and into the doctor's office. He says we actually need to go to another hospital, a fever hospital. You have got to be kidding right?  We were lost for 2 hours looking for the hospital and lost for another looking for you. 


Even though it kills us (Hanna more so) we ask him to draw us a map to the other hospital. Oh and he also hassles Hanna for not speaking Arabic too and asks her "Where did you get her from?" and yes he was referring to me.

We eventually make it to the fever hospital, and surprisingly enough, this hospital was a much easier find. And no traffic either.  We walk straight in, took our ticket and saw the nurses. She took her rabies shot which didn't hurt. Funnily enough. Hanna had just one to go. It was funny because I thought this would be like the first one, painless. I politely looked away for her second injection which was going to happen on her butt. I thought it was over and I just happen to glance at it as it was coming out of her lady hump and I swear to god, I nearly fell flat on my face and yelped. The needle was the size of my forearm. 

Welcome to Kuwait and to the public health system.

Food Porn

Food porn and it begins in Dubai...

I had to get myself some Arabic food on my first day in Dubai. I just couldn’t wait. Every time I take a bite of something I have this insatiable desire to capture it on camera, it’s my thing, it’s my food porn. It annoys the hell out of my friends, especially when starved. But now, they find it kind of funny... like ha ha funny. I just have to take pictures of every thing I consume.

I picture it from up close and from a far. In different angles, then different positions, OH and even in different lighting. And if I am feeling particularly adventurous, I get them posing together, props included. Perhaps a San Pellegrino bottle, or a knife, or even a good action shot where I am in mid bite. Oh and a really good one is when you have the food split wide open exposing it’s revealing centre. Hmmm... All this for the sake of getting my perfect shot. And I’ve even discovered this really cool miniature effect on my camera. Because all I want to do, is get up close and personal with it and so do you, ya freak. 

Then I feel the need to publish it or at the very least show it to the person next me. I just need to get it out there. Heck, I even forage through my albums just so I can be taken back. Ohhh yeessss, that's the stuff right there.

I get knocked for it.  This is true.  I even get in trouble for posting it up on facebook via live feeds. But to all the people out there that just don’t get it, all I have to say is “Don’t knock it. It’s my food porn, just love it and embrace it”.

I love it especially, when I can get people going. They "pull their faces", they “ooo” and they “arrghh" and their symptoms of hunger pains are rising. I can tell. I can sometimes even get their mouths wide open and they give me the distinctive jaw drop with the "O" face.  Little do they know, they’ve just had their very own food-gasm. And honey, that was only a still shot.

Secretly... you know you want one too.

It's in my genes too. My sister is a far worse food porn addict than I am. She even has a food blog to boot. Have a sneak peek. And yes feel free to lick the screen, god knows I've done it.
agirlhastoeat.com

Here is my first collection of my eats and treats in Dubai. Feel free to me let know of your foodgasms about the collection. 

Welcome to Dubai and some much needed food porn.

Hummus

Moutabal
Eggplant with Tahini 
Looks similar to hummus but can you spot the difference?

Falafel

Fattoush
Typical Arab salad - YUM!

Labna w Garlic
Easily the best I've had in my life!

Group shot

More hummus

Another Fattoush Salad - hmmmm

Fresh bread 

Olives

Pickled vegetables
a typical accompaniment w Arabic dishes

Kibbeh
A meat version looking falafel

Haloumi

Kibbeh exposed

The money shot.
Arabic desserts dripping with a vanilla cream sauce