I feel I should write something today, it's been a while. But, ummm, yeah, to be honest, there's not too much to write about really. I'm learning a pretty mammoth lesson in patience. Waiting for flights, waiting for permits, waiting waiting waiting. If I don't have some kind of adventure or action SOON, I might, I donno, DIE. Even the donkey's are irritating me today. The fuzzy baby ones too. That's bad.

Right, so, I'm back in Botswana. I arrived a few days ago actually. Ummmm, yeah, London was pretty NICE. Nice, but cold, and sunny, actually, so that was alright. I made the best of my little whirlwind trip, felt like a right trendy jet setter; I went to the theatre, I fed squirrels in St James' Park, saw Buckingham Palace, Big Ben, Westminster Abbey, London Eye and St Paul's Cathedral (touristed it rrrright up). I stared at the crazies in Camden Town. I met up with my lovely twin cousins and had dinner with my aunt and uncle and some more mad Murdochs before Billy Elliot. I went shopping on Oxford Street. Ahem. That's all I'm willing to say about THAT (ihaveashoppingproblem.com). I ate sushi, I sang songs from Matilda the musical on the underground, in my head, and maybe a little bit out aloud, WOAH I loved it so, Brrrrruce BOGtrotter. haha. And.. I got my passport!

And now... the waiting game continues. Botswana, why you no like foreigner?

What's Heathrow Airport playing at not having trolleys past security? Seriously. SOME of us have psychotic shopping episodes on Oxford Street and 15kgs of hand luggage to deal with. I got a bit carried away. As I do. There was just so much STUFF. So many THINGS, things you'd never DREAM of seeing in Botswana. So I had to get it, all of it, all the stuff and all the things and now I think I may have dislocated my shoulder from carrying it around Heathrow Airport while I walked around for three hours, getting MORE stuff, more London treats and niceties. Anyways I must be off, flight attendants getting all antsy and eyebally

When I was first coming to terms with having to fly to London for the weekend to renew my passport, I was all like this: 

%#|?&!!!****#f!?&@!!@#^*!!!! MEH. FML. OMG @?!>%%*!?##*f!!! Hate hate hate &&££!!?!%#?**!?!

Yeah, I was real mad. I planned on only taking one change of clothes, a tiny handbag and not spending any money or having any fun. I planned on sulking. The entire weekend.

Um, how silly was THAT?! 

Hahaha. What was I thinking?! What a dumb-dumb head, what a big old silly sally shmoozy-brained dodo butt (?). I'm going to LONDON, I'm gon' see the Queen and eat fish and chips and urrrrthang. Okay maybe not that, but I'm gonna visit my cousins and hang out at markets and take photographs with my sexy camera and generally just cruise around London like a total hipster. 

I'm pretty excited for the flight too. I have ALL the things. A magazine, my kindle, laptop all charged, some tic-tacs, new lip balm, cotton cardigan and my favorite kikoi. All set to go, basically. 

So, it's goodbye Dusty Donkey Town and HELLO London. 

Soooo, I'm flying to London tomorrow and will be back in the donkey town on Tuesday. That's what's up. 

All ready to get my hipster on and drink skinny lattes in Covent Gardens, eeek. No, not really. Ready to freeze to death in my sandals and cotton tops. London, please be nice, no funny business.

Right, so, I have some good news, and some pretty BAD news.

My stuuuuupid red passport is expiring and that's kind of, well, it's monumentally shiiiiiit, shall we say, when you're trying to get a work permit in a foreign country (that's the bad news, right there). So, it needs to be renewed... urgently.

I'm going to London (that's not the good news)

I'll only be there for three days (not good news either)

It cost me a bazillion pounds (well, yeah)

It's pretty cold in London and I have no warm clothes with me in Botswana (this is all sounding horribly familiar; in London,  freezing cold, wearing sandals, in a bit of a flap.. yeah this has definitely happened before)

Ummm, oh yeah, the good news, hang on a second

errrr

there was something...

oh yes, I get to watch the movies on the aeroplane. Haven't watched a movie in a while, so THAT'S quite nice. Aaaand, ummm, buy something from duty free, I guess. Quite like me a bit of aeroplane food, cut my scrambled eggs into squares, bounce them off the back of the chair, don't mind a bit of that myself. And... maybe I'll go shopping. Had a few orders from some desperate expats in Maun put in already for Tetley's tea bags and Dairy Milk chocolate. 

Oh... AND...I just remembered I won a writing competition and have two free nights at a hotel in London. Oh happy day.

Rays of sunshine all over the place. 

Yours in rainbows and positive thinking, 
Polly-Anna 

Whilst I have been very busy taking photographs of stray donkeys, dodging goats on the main road and drinking far more gin and tonics than I care to admit to, I have, in fact, managed to do something very, very clever and responsible and grown up. Yes. You best believe it. I printed a CV, rocked an interview and found myself a job (pending work visa shenanegans). A real job... in the Delta, as camp manager... OLEH. You think I'm lying, don't you? That's terrible, shame on you.

This morning I woke up and decided to do a black and white photographic series on the derelict donkeys of Maun. I need to get a job, NOW. It is not normal to wake up and want to do that. Most people wake up and want to eat cornflakes, or go to gym, majority of people have to wake up and go to work (shem). Me? I want to chase donkeys around the dusty streets of Maun in 40 degree heat with my camera. I feel I should be concerned. I should be, right? Of course I should be. I'm going to have a shower, drink some coffee, and other normal people things, and then go shoot the donkeys. With my camera. Not with a gun. I don't have a gun. But even if DID, donkeys are friends. Oh, and how sweet it this; there's an organization here that's raising funds to put reflective tags on the donkeys ears so they can be seen at night on the road. That's pretty sweet. I like that. That's real nice. Viva la donkey

When in Maun, you find yourself asking questions you never thought you'd ever, ever ask, like... 

Why do I have raw fillet and a bottle of gin in my handbag?

Why is that donkey eating that laundry? 

Why am I doing sherry giraffe shots off the ground on a Monday evening? I am not a giraffe. And I do NOT like sherry. And it is a MONDAY.

Why are there goats in this coffee shop?

 

Seriously. This place is mad. I love it.  

Oh, and also, do you know what a solifuge is? No? Neither did I. Just... don't try be cool and catch one. Yeah. Terrible life choice.

And another thing... khaki fever. It's a real thing, and it is RAMPANT here in Maun. Like men in khaki? Get yourself up here. Amen

I haven't posted anything in a while. I guess that's what happens when you're extremely busy and important, doing, um important busy people stuff. 

ummmm, yeah

Gotta go... very busy, you know

Maun Fever, it's a real thang

I'm really enjoying Maun, a tad too much, in fact (ask my brother). It's one if those places where when you first drive through it you think errrrrr-ma-gad what IS this place, how do people LIVE here?! Well, I'll tell you how they live here: they go swimming in the river, they chill at "swim spot" or "the big tree", they watch the most beautiful sunsets every night, they go to massive braais at least three times a week, there's always someone having a little party for absolutely no reason whatsoever, they fly over the delta in awesome little aeroplanes, they drink gin and tonics and Malawi shandies watching thousands of stars at night, they hop into the Moremi game reserve for the afternoon and see cheetahs and elephants and more birds than you knew existed, the sun always shines, everyone drives a 4x4 and the town basically consists of gorgeous pilots, camp managers and only a handful of girls (woop-ah). But don't worry, when I'm not flitsing about town being a social fairy (or butterfly, or whatever) I'm being a very, very serious grown-up and applying for jobs. True story.

in 2013...

I know this is a little late, I wrote it ages ago and then forgot about it, but urr blog has to have a reflection post, right? A "2013 in review" shebang? Mkay, well I gots one, here it is

IN 2013, I HAVE...

Watched one thousand floating lanterns bring in the New Year in Thailand, seen the sun rise over Angkor Wat in Cambodia, cruised down the Mekong Delta in Vietnam, been conned by a seven year old and seriously considered kidnapping small children (not that particular  one, obviously). I've given up fizzy drinks for six months and NOT given up chocolate for 12 months (um, yay). I've been to a ping-pong show in Phuket... there was no ping-pong (not ready to talk about it yet). 

I've had an iguana thrown at me, watched canaries come out of unspeakable places (ping-pong show my ping pong), mastered the squat, peed on my shoes, fine, maybe not mastered. I've sat on a bus for seventeen hours (more than once), eaten blow-your-head-and-pants-off red curry in a Thai road house at 3am (what was I thinking?). I've ordered pineapple in an attempt to be healthy only to find it was deep fried... and served with condensed milk (?!). So WHAT if I enjoyed it, just a little bit (fine, maybe a lot).

I've kayaked in Halong Bay (seven wonders of the world, and all that) and walked for two hours in the rain (some people feel the rain while others just get wet.... I was definitely feeling it). 

I've lived in a tent, on the beach, on an island in the Philippines for 6 weeks. Sailed the Bacuit Archipelago, been kissed on the nose by a clownfish (and a giraffe, not on the nose though, but that would be sweet, just on the mouth, there was tongue, most action I'd had in months, uhhrrr). I've swum with turtles, dolphins, whale sharks and the lesser spotted Norweigan backpacker Nikolai. I've made coconut oil, discovered banana spring rolls (omg) and seen turtles hatch. I've eaten 5 mangoes in one sitting and 10 in a day, but who's counting? I was nearly KILLED by a falling coconut, god damn.

I beaten a 6 year old in an epic stare-off on the London Underground (he was good, buuuut I was better). I've fallen down a flight of stairs. Ouches.

I've submerged my face in water for over five hours, snorkelled nekkid on APO ISLAND and learnt how to make friendship bracelets on the beach. I've swum in a sea filled with phosphorescents and bartered for banana leaf cigarettes. I've been blessed by a monk, hugged by a witch doctor and, ahem, "healed" by a traditional healer. 

I've gone several days without washing or brushing my hair (I don't advise it). I've become an unequivocal expert on Asian lavatory systems and learnt the value of pre-purchased toilet paper, hand sanitiser, Imodium and cheap valium (what? the bus trips were BRUTAL).

I've slept in tree houses in most of the countries I've visited and carried a shisha in my backpack for two months. I've had to borrow money from a homeless lady and swapped my scarf for phone credit. 

I've been bitten and stung by jellyfish, bees, mosquitos, wasps, dogs and invisible stingy things in the sea. I've eaten an enormous swamp worm thingy swimming in vinegar in Manila and smashed back a mopane worm (not ever again). I've seen more stars than I even knew existed. I've showered whilst sitting on a toilet, on a boat, in the Gulf of Leon. I've showered in a bamboo forest, under a waterfall on the beach,  under a bucket and beneath a tree in Botswana. I've hiked the Cinque Terre in Italy, eaten two ice creams in one day (so what if it was THREE?) and celebrated the festival of the lemon (?). I've learnt to sail, driven speed boats and paddled on the standy-up paddle board things. I've really learnt to articulate myself and expanded my vocabulary (standy-up paddle board things? Cary you literary GURU). 

I've won money betting on fighting cocks and spiders in the Philippines, I've EATEN a spider, I've skinny-dipped in the Cote d'Azur (and in Sardinia, and Corsica and the Philippines and, no never mind). I've fasted for an entire WEEK (just so I could eat voluminous amounts of Laduree macarons in Paris. I've tried (and failed) to be a vegetarian. I've bought an iPhone, a Macbook and a fancy SLR camera and felt guilty about it ever since. I've lost (and have not yet found) three dress sizes, despite said macaron gorging sessions and unspeakable amounts of Italian gelato (woop-ah). I've sipped champagne in Monaco and gin out of sachets in Tanzania. I've been inside the Ngorongoro Crater, yo. Spotted leopards in the Serengeti, boom.  

I've explored every possible means of transport: trains, planes, boats, trams, tubes, busses, motorbikes, mopeds, jeepneys, ferries, bicycles, dhows, kayaks, rafts, canoes, tuk-tuks, trucks, horse and carriage, donkey and carriage, camel and carriage (just kidding), embarrassing tourist train thingys (why... WHY?) and mokoros in the Okavango Delta. 

I've eaten pizza in NAPLES, seen the Statue of David (woop) and NOT climbed up the leaning tower of Pisa (I saw it, that was enough). I've seen Mount Vesuvius and spent the day wondering around the ancient ruins of Pompeii. I've eaten frogs legs, in France (go figure).

I'VE CAUGHT A 20kg YELLOW FIN TUNA (give or take, maybe just take. Maybe it was only 10kg. So take 10). I've eaten fresh tuna three times a day for three days in a row; tuna steaks, tuna salad, tuna meatballs, tuna sashimi, tuna ceviche, tuna pasta, tuna pizza, tuna cake (having a laugh). I've learnt to say "hello, goodbye, where's the bakery, how much does that cost and what time do you close" in four languages. Pow. 

I've mastered the art of sign language, animal noises and miming (you should SEE me do the duck). I've lied to a police man, with a straight face (I KNOW!).

I've learnt how to make PIZZA, from an Italian pizza guru. I've cooked gourmet three course meals meals on a luxury superyacht for very discerning guests (google you are me HERO). I've sailed around SARDINIA, hiked in Corsica and drowned myself and my sorrows in Sangria in Majorca. I've brutally murdered a lobster, don't wanna talk about it.

I've made best friends with a seventy year old man and travelled from Nairobi to Mombasa by train. I've eaten a goat, and a crocodile (not a whole one, that would be greedy). I'm pretty sure I've eaten a horse, quite possibly a cat too. I've travelled overland from Kenya to South Africa on a truck. I've seen a golden rumped SHREW, I've stroked a bushbaby, seen a tarsier (holy HAT they're cute) and cruised around the Chocolate Hills in Bohol. I've seen entire river banks lit up by fireflies whilst kayaking down the Abatan river. I sang Owl City "fireflies" the entire time. True story.

I've given money to a monkey.
WTF

  I've not worn closed shoes for an entire year (flip-flops and barefoot all the way). I've slipped on donkey doo in Lamu and been sat on by an enormous African lady, SAT ON. I've shared a seat with two chickens and been vomited on by a screaming baby. Yum.

 I met this dude who killed a lion when he was 12. Epic.

I've slept in train stations, airports, dodgey hotel receptions and a massage shack on the beach, for three nights (desperate times). I've driven right around Siquijor Island on a scooter, with no licence, no helmet, and not an inkling how the thing worked (pretty bad-ass like that). I've tried (and almost lost) my hand at fire dancing.

I've smoked the naughty sort in Malawi (like NOT brushing your hair in days and eating chicken ceviche from street vendors, I do NOT recommend it). I've been drenched by the Victoria Falls in Zimbabwe, covered in mud, attacked by insects and licked by a bushbaby (oooohwee). I've poled down the Okavango Delta, seen the Big Five, slept in a tent for 36 days. Thirty SIX. Thirty six daaaays. Three Six. It was summin' else. 

So yeah, 2013 was a pretty adventurous year for me. 
2014, let's be havin' ya