Musings of an Avid Dreamer

Some words are meant just for me and some are not. So many notebooks and blank pages of sorts. I have a binder of yoga materials, an A4 notebook from my class with notes, and a couple of black books, thrown in with a few others. A journal for my yoga practice, a black book of ideas, a book of thoughts, blank pages and a giant art book yet to be used. Each one has a different purpose and it reminds me how much I love books and stationary and what they represent or the potential of what they could be. 

For the most part, they are just words. However, a word on paper is more real than one that exists only in my head. In there, they get lost. On paper, I am reminded.

So my coffee breaks have become my little brain dump. Well, they will become. 

Love Always, Paris.

Sunday and Aperitif hour in Paris on the typical pavement tables of the popular Les editeurs in Saint germain. My 'pamplemousse fraise' has just been delivered in a tall glass, half full. The price of prime real estate and pavements in Paris.

Beautiful Paris in Autumn with what felt more like a summer's day with bare legs, Berthillion ice cream, a full picnic of

Mousse de canard, du fromage, jambon, poulet, crevettes et baguettes in the beautiful grounds of the Jardin du Luxembourg. Before lying on the observation deck on the top of the Montparnasse Tower and enjoying our black sesame eclair and matcha and salted caramel tart from Sadaharu Aoki. Here you are presented with the panorama of the pyramids of Paris streets and the view of the Eiffel Tower and other monuments. The Top of the Rock of Paris. 

A certain something something about this city, the ease and simple and effortless elegance of its inhabitants, the sexy French language, the fresh produce markets, people watching and wine drinking, baguette et fromage eating culture that make it so addictive. The authentic Vietnamese food an added bonus. Like any additiction, you keep wanting to come back for more. 

People watching, eaves dropping on conversations, or rather just enjoying the accent and interactions. A girl from Hong Kong is studying French and talking about how the Paris way of life was alot nicer, greener than what she was used to. She had now met her boyfriend'a parents and was to meet the grandparents, but he has yet to propose. She was having pho with what appeared to be a new Parisian friend at Pho14 in District 13 and we were sat on the cosy neighbouring table.

The very mixed group of people next to us at Les editeurs, writing in their notebooks for what appears to be a business meeting of sorts. One guy now sporting a large bottle of champagne. A celebration peut-etre? 

The guy outside Merci asking if we were lost. No, we said; shame, he said - for it would have given him a reason to speak with us. Still, he persisted, suave. Well, where are your boyfriends...for, if you were my girlfriend, I would not let you travel to Paris without me. He sounds possessive. Ah, but life is unfair (in an almost sing song voice). It is, for we were not lost in lust with his grey track pants. We understood.

I want to live here for a short time and practice my infant French. To be able to say more than 'is it possible to get a small slice of the Beaufort cheese?' (which, btw I was quite happy to be able to string together!). I want more. I also want the Brie and the Camembert and the Brillat-savarin (yum!). I want to stay around the Luxembourg gardens and go for morning runs, before picking up groceries from Rue Mouffetard, where my Dose of coffee is good and the barista who makes it is cute. I will then read and write on my Juliet balcony or one of the plentiful cafes as I sip my glass of red. An over simplistic view of what it means to live in Paris! 

Yes, I can do these things in London, for the parks and coffee shops And wine bars on offer. It might just be a tiny bit weird to ask for things in French.

So why Paris, what is it about you. Each time I visit, there is a new street, market, area or side to be seen. There is always the beauty of touristy Paris along the Seine, as well as the charm of typical Parisian streets with its plentiful boulangeries and colours. Some new pages and some repeated chapters to a never ending book which is read over. It never gets old. The more things change, the more they stay the same. Paris, I will always love you. 

Observations of a Crowded Tube Journey

Waxed leather pants, big headphones and rather clumsily and haphazardly  steps a girl tangled in her headphones. She untangles her headphones from the pole, tries to cool herself down and settles into reading her book titled 'wine, wealth and the state in late antique Egypt'. She reminded me of the an older version of the girl in Hugh Grants About a Boy. The punk girl, that the young boy had a crush on.

Next to her is an African kid, again earphones in and his feet are tapping away with his green sneakers, on the crowded tube floor. A well dressed man in a suit beside him tries to move his feet away. He notices me looking and then I feel uncomfortable. An older gentleman steps on, he is wearing a black fedora like hat and a pink shirt and blazer (with trousers too).

I am observing, trying to be mindful and being conscious of it too. It is interesting what you normally miss as you have your music plugged in and gaze fixed at anywhere that isn't in someone else's line of sight for the fear of making eye contact in our contactless transport system. 

I for one know how catastrophic it feels to travel a journey without any music in tow and thoughts to follow. 

I'm reading a book. Well, I am reading a book, but also some readings, notes, materials and sometimes I am just reading my thoughts over. My yoga course is reinviting me into the realm of mindfulness, the study and application of this by the nature of what it is and means to be aware. Aware of your senses, your surroundings, your body and simply, (or not), aware of you. Who you are now. To switch off from the sufferings of the past and the angst of the future and to be present for brief moments and sustain this. It's definitely not easy. It's interesting though to observe the things you would normally miss in your routine. Observe, without analysing. I'm noticing more, I always hear and see but I don't always understand. Well maybe not entirely accurate! Anyway, I'm learning that I don't need to. There is plenty of grey matter in this world and not everything can be explained in words. So many words. So just observe for some brief moments and enjoy. 

For an already analytical mind, the analysing of being present and mindful is seemingly detracting from the philosophy of this notion! But. It was fun to look around at the many walks of life on a crowded tube. People that you would not encounter on your day to day and people that you have a chance to.

I find myself making an effort to engage in more conversations with random people of late. For curiosity's sake. An old lady in an antique shop, where did she get all her stock from. Turns out she was part Swedish and having an ageing aunt made numerous trips back home in the past few years and picked up a lot of things from her hometown, alongside with France travel for the flea markets. I felt I had something to contribute on this point and shared my favourite antique cities and markets in France. She wanted to talk more, she wanted to share her stories and I wanted to listen. Alas I have class. I promise I will be back. I wonder how many people actually visit her store and stay for awhile. 

The two random strangers at the 5 mile mark during the Royal Parks Half Marathon who asked me if I was on pace. Sure, I said, I have 7, no, 8 miles to go (who's counting). He had sore nipples and needed some Vaseline but he was on track. Made me laugh and forget about those miles as I carried on. 

The lady who stopped me as I was walking to paddington to ask if I had run the half marathon and congratulate me for doing so. It was such a simple gesture. 

I guess you never really know the impact of what you do on someone else's day. Small actions, gestures and conversations may be all that was needed to bring a smile to someone. 

So try it, look around and speak to people, you never know what interesting things you might find out, or prefer not to know. You never know what it could mean for them. Either way, you will likely learn something new or see something with fresh eyes. Or simply, you paying attention might have made their day.

Signing off,

Confessions of a thinkaholic/talkaholic

surrounded by words. 

In the Company of Strangers

I want adventures. The endless places which never cease to amaze and excite me and instil the feeling of freedom and happiness. Fleeting at best, permanent at  most.

Naples and the Amalfi Coast is amazing. Beautiful, relaxing and took me by surprise. I expected to be greeted by grime and watching over my shoulder in Naples. I didn't expect to be eating the most simple local ragu that as my sister would say, the best spaghetti con ragu she has ever had. Cooked for 7hours. (Tandem Ragu). I had the vegetarian version and it was delicious! She spent the rest of the trip dreaming about this dish and we contemplated returning to Naples for it. Oh and those donuts (doughnuts?), the lightest and fluffiest and covered in Nutella. It was also just so cheap! 

The area around Via dei Tribulani in the old historic centre, and surrounding streets offered much in terms of local eateries even though it would serve as the focal point for many a visitor. Observations of locals carrying about their daily routine amidst the few travellers seeking out pizza and donuts. In the end, we only sampled one pizza. It was just so filling! Not the oldest one (Brandi pizzeria), but just one that was nearby and had been recommended (also featured in Eat Pray Love) - La Antica Pizzeria Da Michele. A double mozzarella pizza was €5, tomato base was so fresh and light and the mozzarella chewy and creamy. Have to say I would prefer the base slightly crispier.

Naples reminded me of an edgier version of Lisbon. Less grungy and less funky, but still with good coffee, good food, graffiti and laundry (lol). It made me want to wander the streets. I didn't too much though. I didn't want to get into any trouble! Ha! 

It also had resemblances to South East Asia. The smog, dirt, motorbikes and fruit and vegetable stores. Oh and also the freshly baked bread rolls which had an uncanny look, smell and taste to Vietnamese banh mi! (albeit chewier). Take note. 

We were warned of the train, so we caught the hydrofoil to Sorrento and then the Sita bus to Positano. Home for the next four nights. Arriving in Sorrento, immediately we felt "ooh we like this place already .." Also a thinking of should we have stayed here? It had a holiday resort feel, a vibe and was big and busy enough with a  pretty square. Also the point of arrival in the Marina Piccola afforded us our first view of crystal clear waters that we would later swim in.

We expected beaches to be less than awe inspiring along this coast, as that is what we heard. Whilst this could be attributed to the black sand and pebbles (boulders!) at most beaches, it definitely did not detract from the swimming holes on offer. A ferry ride over to lush Capri, we were greeted with the freshest lemonade and a beautiful view over the Arco Naturale, a slice of paradise. A short bus ride to the Marina Piccola lead to a couple of beach bars and beautiful crystal clear waters. A little cove of heaven, with a view of the three Faraglioni Rocks. Jelly shoes recommended. Only wish we weren't reliant on ferry times for departing! Next time, perhaps a night here, or two...

An early start and a packed lunch the next day meant a full 5 hours at the Spiaggia di Duoglio in Amalfi. It was a short boat ride from Amalfi itself but not as crowded and bluer waters. Well, the colour really does depend on the sunlight and how it shines. The early start meant we had time to visit Ravello. The tiny town on the hill that was the most romantic town we visited. It felt slower, calm and simply nostalgic. It offered mountainous views which differed from the rest of the coast, seeing the settings of beautiful wedding ceremonies and an aperitivo on the grounds of the beautiful Palazzo Avino Hotel was truly stunning. 

Sorrento. Yes. Wish we had stayed in Sorrento. It was bigger yes, but it exuded more substance. Positano is very pretty and romantic, but if seeking a beach break with more choices and the giant swimming pool, that is the ocean, Sorrento it would be. The Marina Grande was a 15 minute walk from the town centre and has a small beach and a few restaurants serving  apparently the fishermans catch of the day. The lobster tagliolini was also the best pasta dish I had of the coast, and we had alot - so simple in a light lemon sauce. 

The Marina Piccola though, is where you should swim. There are three beach bars   along the marina and we chose Leonellis at the end. Further from the incoming boats. Doesn't sound too appealing I know, but each beach bar was made up of a boardwalk of sun loungers (which you hire), around an area enclosed by rocks and you enter the water by ladders. Hence the swimming pool. There is a beach on one side, but really, who wants the discomfort of pebbles unnecessarily. Protected from the waves and the extra salty water meant buoyancy and swimming for long periods of time, without my feet ever needing to touch the ground. Could I stay like this forever.

Oh and gelato, the gelato at Raki Gelateria in town. The strawberry and hazelnut flavours were so tasty and the process of scooping was abit of an art form. 

Ah we maximised our day in Sorrento, deciding at dinner that the last bus back at 9pm it would be. We had checked the bus timetable and there were a couple of people at the bus station. A Spanish guy approaches and is desperately trying to find out if we had a bus ticket to spare (turns out, we were to have two), or where he could buy a ticket or what time the bus was due to come. He had to get to Amalfi. Also if we spoke Spanish, or Italian. Tick: none of the above (unfortunately). He did understand I meant now... But the now of 9 o'clock was now 9.15 and these buses were prompt. So we checked. Hmm looks like they changed the timetable and the last bus was 8pm. So we asked another bus driver, he didn't know but a very kind random lady did call and confirm that no, there are no more buses tonight.

So we proceed to tell the rest of the people at the bus stop. A group of four Armenians from Detroit and a mother and daughter from Philadelphia. Met with much disagreement "no, the hotel told us".. "no, the bus timetable says..". Nooo, we tell ya. It is all wrong.

So one of the Armenian ladies could speak some Spanish, and the Spanish  guy could speak some Italian, so we are in business. First though, we figure we split a taxi with the mother and daughter (Tracey (mum) and Winnie (daughter)) as they are also going to Positano. The other 5 are heading to Amalfi. So we are told by Tracey it should be less than €70, but that we should try and ask for €60 for the four of us, no actually €50. Yes ma'am. We try. We are told €70, we say €60. They agree. Great, we will grab our new friends. Ah.. No with 4 people, it will be more.

Meanwhile, our Spanish friend who speaks Italian is trying to negotiate a taxi for all 9 of us. €20/person. Ok, we say. No, Tracey says, as it is more. In the end we agree, and the 9 of us pile into the 9 seater minivan with the driver. It's ok she says, the 4 of us can share one row. Who needs seat-belts on a winding coastline anyway.

It made for actually a much more relaxing journey than the bus, and shared some laughs and communication woes. Exchanged recommendations of restaurants and said our goodbyes. 

Alas, Positano is tiny and the next afternoon we are called out by the Armenian group who were visiting for the day. 5 minutes down the road we are stopped by Tracey and Winnie and after a brief exchange and a request to exchange emails, an offer to stay at their holiday house in September when it would be empty, followed. Situated one block from the beach, near Philadelphia I believe. One hour from New York she stressed. Of course, we would just have to get ourselves there. 

How simple encounters can change a day, a trip, a moment. The taxi journey ended the day in Sorrento with all of us laughing. Apparently everything happens for a reason. In a different context this was mentioned in the taxi.

So we still have our two bus tickets. We really should give them to someone. We approached a couple by the bustop at Naples airport and asked if they were travelling to the Amalfi Coast. The guy quickly and ever so slightly abruptly says they are going to Sorrento. He probably thought we wanted to sell him something. We told him that we had two tickets we weren't going to use and so they could have them. He was evidently pleasantly surprised and thanked us. They weren't worth anything and they probably weren't even going to use it, but it brought upon a smile and so forth. Should exercise paying it forward more.

Perhaps it was this coastline, or perhaps it is Italy. Whatever the case though, the Baci kiss quotes were definitely more corny. Still, I could not resist.

Yoga and wine and all things fine...

Waiting in line for the Graham Norton show. My sister managed to get audience tickets after request after request. I don't think I have ever watched a full episode. I don't know the format of the show or what the red chair was until last night, but I am looking forward to the Kasabian performance and I do actually know the guests. (Samuel L.Jackson, Keira Knightley and Jenson Button).

I haven't had a television for 8 months, nor do I feel like I need one but I feel should have one. So I bought one. Just in time for the World Cup festivities that I may follow. The question of buying materialistic items versus investing in experiences has cropped up a lot around me lately. More likely though, it has always been around but I simply notice it more now. My restless notions putting me in a predicament of furnishing my flat vs well, not furnishing.

One is deemed worthy and the other just a desire to own an item. It simply boils down to perspective, which changes all the time. For everyone. What matters most and more for one person may be the same as what matters least for another. #choices #firstworldproblems 

I have been doing a lot of yoga lately. It is my reprieve and my time for just me. For an activity that began for purely the physical benefits and challenges it presented, I am slowly realising the mental benefits that are all encompassing. Again though, the question has come up. For an activity that has evolved since I don't know when and provided a pathway to spirituality via a means other than religion, it can be an expensive activity in this city. There are cheaper ways to partake in the activity, free classes, trials at yoga studios all around the city and of course, self practice at home. However, to stay devoted to just one studio usually comes at a price. 

I did, however, manage to attend a very enjoyable free morning yoga class held on the rooftop of One New Change this week. The sun was shining, slight breeze and the view of beautiful St Pauls after savasana. It is Also the venue of a popular rooftop bar in the summer. Where downward dog meets downtown demons.

Consumerism is all around us, that we can't escape. Nor do I think we really want to. Not completely anyway - as I don't think it is possible. Unless we are willing to trade in all our Apple products and switch off from the world around us and hide away in a remote location with nothing, but all that we need.

The desire to be less materialistic is at the forefront of my mind. To have more experiences - travel, try new things, learn new skills, see your city, country, world and friends through different lenses (Canon perhaps?) is important for the memories that it creates. Memories and moments last and revisit every few days, months, years - for the rest of your life. If you have a good memory. Whereas my materialistic purchases don't usually survive much longer than a drunken night. Two, if I am lucky!

However, that is me. It is hard to find that balance and some days I try harder than others. Some days I don't need to try and others I rationalise a little bit more than my normal. Which is, a lot.  

Some days I really do need that new Zara top for Summer ;-)