10 Things I Love About You

I can't quite believe it but today is my final day living in London. This past year has been both the best and hardest thing I have ever done, and I'm having trouble grasping the fact that I'm only hours away from saying goodbye to it all. So, for my final post I've decided to put together a list of things that I loved about living in this amazing city.

10 Things I Love About Living In London:

1. The iconic landmarks

Big Ben, The London Eye, Tower Bridge...a year in and I still get a little giddy when I catch glimpse of some of these sites. My first flat in London was just around the corner from Tower Bridge and the Tower of London and I went weeks without even realising it! The first time I walked around the corner and saw the huge blue bridge I couldn't help myself from yelling, "Oh my God!", much to the surprise of passers by. While the novelty of the red phone boxes and double decker buses does wear off after a while, they were a constant reminder of just how far away from home I really was. 

2. The amazing public transport system

It's a pretty satisfying feeling when you whip out your oyster card, quickly swipe it to open the barriers and waltz into the tube station without so much as a fumble, especially if there are tourists struggling and holding up crowds. That's when you truly feel like a local I think. Getting around in London has been so easy. I've loved knowing that if I miss the tube there's another one only minutes away. I've also loved actually using the big red double decker buses and not merely taking too many pictures of them. I've even mastered sitting up the top of them and no longer have an irrational fear that they're going to tip over!

3. The food (believe it or not...)

Fact: Chocolate tastes better in the UK than it does in Australia. Even a good old Freddo Frog is creamier, richer and seriously undeniable. This is because they have no need to put in additives to stop the chocolate from melting like they do at home and as a result it's even more delicious. My favourite are Minstrels which are like giant brown smarties with Galaxy chocolate inside. I'm also obsessed with mushy peas and Yorshire puddings. Supposedly you're only supposed to have Yorshire pud with roast beef and mushy peas is an accompaniment to fish and chips however, I've broken the mould and opt for them with any meal any chance I get. 

4. Living in a gateway to the rest of Europe

I've had some incredible adventures this year, galavanting around Europe. Scotland, Ireland, Paris, Milan, Budapest, The Camino de Santiago, Belgium and back to Edinburgh; it's been awesome to be able to jet off for weekends and mini-breaks on some seriously cheap flights. 

5. The seasons

I love snow. People here tend to get pretty grumpy once Christmas and New Year are over and the cold, grey weather sets in but I loved it. Arriving in early February meant I got to see my fair share of snow which automatically put a smile on my face. My only regret was not ticking off my challenge to build a snowman. I naively thought that as I was staying until this winter I would get another chance, however this winter has been quite mild so far. In fact, today there is a beautiful blue sky and the air is gorgeous and crisp. Then there's the other end of the spectrum; the amazing summer that we had in July and August. The weather here was just like a summer at home and I loved flocking to the parks for picnics and sun bathing and going for walks along the Thames or Regents Canal. A family of swans made the canal their home this summer and it was lovely to watch the cygnets get bigger over the months.

6. The entertainment and cultural events

There's always something to do in London. I've particularly loved visiting places like Borough or Spitalfields Markets, Winter Wonderland at Christmas and of course, seeing shows on the West End. I managed to make it to four shows this year, the most recent of which was last night. For my last night in London I went to see Matilda at the Cambridge Theatre. I'm not sure what I thought it would be like, but the show dramatically exceeded my expectations. The sets, choreography and talent were all brilliant with catchy songs, perfectly timed stunts (including a child 'falling from the sky') and a take on the story line that was quite different to the film. I loved it and would highly recommend anyone who is coming to London go and see it.

7. Dating

Dating in London seems to be quite different to anything I experienced in Melbourne. Firstly, it seems that for the most part, the motive of men in bars is to get your number and take you on a date, rather than the ulterior motive I've found at home. But while they're keen to take you out for a chat at first, if anything isn't up to scratch they don't seem to have any qualms moving onto the next girl. After all, it's a big city and the selection for choice is huge. While at first I found this overwhelming, I eventually learnt to embrace it and didn't give a second thought to anyone who behaved badly or simply wasn't for me. The second difference is Internet dating seems to be the norm here. Having spoken to friends at home about Tinder, in Melbourne it seems to be a way for people to initiate one night stands. In London, it's a legitimate way to meet people and go on dates. Despite using it purely with the intention to judge strangers, I ended up meeting up with a lovely guy who took me to an amazing rooftop bar, lovely restaurants, ice-skating just because I'd mentioned it was on my London bucket list, a walk around Richmond Park and to the theatre (are you listening males of Melbourne?). 

8. The awesome friends I've made

If you allow yourself to, it is really easy to meet some interesting and amazing people in London. I embraced the challenge of introducing myself to everyone and have made some friends who I will cherish for life. The hardest part of moving here was not having someone I could call up at any time for a catch up. But by the end of the year I'd made a small but steady group of mates who I probably needed a lot more than they needed me, so I'm extremely grateful to them. Some of my closest friends are from work and have been an amazing support through homesickness, heartache, homelessness and of course all of the good times as well. They're like my London family and saying goodbye is going to be tough. Then there's my kindred spirit Cat, who I met in Budapest through a mutual friend. Catty and I clicked and she quickly became one of my closest friend in London. We lived together, we travelled together and we certainly revelled together. 

9. Everything in London makes me giggle...

A little less sentimental is the notion that London has some truly giggle-worthy signs and places (if you share an immature mind like mine, anyway!). From the second you get on the tube at Heathrow headed for Cockfosters, it's easy to differentiate the locals from the tourists purely based on who has cracked up laughing. Another personal favourite of mine is the large sign at the base of Tower Bridge which indicates that you should enter 'Via Dead Man's Hole'. Of course, the classic road sign 'Humps for 500 Yards' always gets a good chuckle too. Even in the famous toy store Hamleys I found a toy penguin which had affectionately been named 'Flaps'. Really guys? Really?

10. The incredible nightlife

Possibly one of the things I'll miss most about London is the amazing night life. Not only is it easy to find an awesome pub, bar or club on the weekend, but it's perfectly acceptable to get out on the grog during the week (so long as you can conceal your hangover the next day). In the summer I thoroughly enjoyed sipping Pimms and G&Ts in outdoor beer gardens while in the winter I nursed mulled wine and cider by the fire in cosy pubs. From the pretentious Embargo 59 to the tacky Church, I've had so much fun exploring London's nightlife...which probably explains the extra 4kg I'm bringing home, and not in my bags!

As I was reminded this week, all good things must come to an end and it's better to leave on a high. Although I'm sad to be saying goodbye, I'm definitely leaving this amazing city on my own terms and with incredibly fond memories. Even Wendy had to leave Neverland eventually (ironically back to London), and now it's my turn to get back to the real world. 

Hogmanay...oh aye!

Challenge 3: Go on lots of day/weekend/many day trips (don't stay in the same place, explore, travel, wander)

I remember this time last year, when I was working at the MCG doing promotions. One of my fellow promoters was a guy from Scotland who was giving me a list of things to do in the UK. Very high on his list was going to Edinburgh for New Years, and even though I can't remember his name, I'm still thankful for the tip. I caught DSL (Deep Scottish Love) back in April when I took a tour of the Highlands, so I was more than happy to return to Edinburgh and get my fix of the sexy Scottish accent. 

I departed London with my friends Cat and Tess early on the morning of the 30th of December, which also happened to be Tess' 25th birthday. Despite having to spend 10 hours on a coach, she got a pretty unique birthday celebration once we reached the great north. That night we headed to a traditional Scottish dance called a Ceilidh, where we linked arms and swang around until our hearts were content. It was pure unadulterated fun and I couldn't wipe the smile off my face. The event was held in a beautiful room, draped in chandeliers with a polished wooden floor as slippery as ice. We quickly discovered that partner dancing with each other was much easier than pretending to be lead by the guys who all seemed to have two left feet. The only exception to this rule was a handful of Scottish men in kilts who really knew how to fling a girl around. Turns out real men wear skirts.

Once the traditional music was out of the way, the dfloor was cleared for some cheesy 80s and 90s tunes. It was at this point that the slipperiness of the floor became both a blessing and a curse. One reveller took advantage of the slip and slide by taking every girl in the room for an 'ice-skate'as a way of putting on the moves. I however, used it to slide across the room on my knees to the lyrics of Like A Prayer. I somehow found myself in a disagreement with a young man who claimed that the Madona anthem was "his song". Insisting that it was really my song, I flung myself across the floor and onto my knees to the line I'm down on my knees, only to be stopped by the traction of my tights. In my mind I thought I would gracefully glide like something out of a musical. In reality I was left with an impressive graze and very little dignity.

We dragged our tired legs home around 2am and were up early the next day to start all over again. Feeling a little rusty we went straight to a local pub to bring in the Kiwi and Australian New Years. Due to the time difference this meant embracing the hair of the dog and having our first pint before 11am. With a DJ, party poppers and fireworks on the TV, you'd never have known it was broad daylight outside which made the countdown to 2014 feel as though we were really at home. This also meant it was easy to get just as drunk as we would have if it were 12am rather than pm. Once the clock had struck 12 in New Zealand a bagpipe player was brought in to commemorate the new year. We then continued to drink and dance until the Aussie count down, which was huge due to the large amount of antipodean backpackers in the bar. It was one of the best New Years parties I've been to and we'd barely got started...

Being the responsible girls that we are, we decided to leave the pub (in a sufficiently inebriated state) and head to another pub for lunch. Our mantra at lunch was to "act sober", at least until we could reach the comfort of our beds to take a nap. As Fatboy Slim say, 'eat, sleep, rave, repeat'. That's exactly what we did. 

We were up again that evening, ready to go with our vodka and Irn Bru cocktails donned in coats, hats and gloves to the Hogmanay street party; one of the biggest New Years festivals in the world. I'd heard stories of how weather had forced the festival to be cancelled in previous years, but we were blessed with a beautiful clear night. Over 80,000 party goers joined us at the street party to watch three lots of fire works and a number of stages with live music and DJs. We had lots of fun attempting to pick strangers' nationalities in the sea of people, which eventually resulted in befriending a group of Brits. Tess decided to make friends in a more creative way, ghosting oblivious strangers, dancing, thrusting and even pretending to lick their faces behind their backs. 

We spent our time singing, dancing and drinking the night away with our new friends. When midnight rolled around I was getting nervous. I hadn't had a midnight New Years kiss who wasn't my ex-boyfriend since I was 16 years old so I'd put a bit of pressure on myself. Cat managed to find a friendly local to bring the new year in with and when Tess realised this may not be an option for her, she made me promise to be her kiss on the stroke of 12. Low and behold we hadn't found boys worthy of our saliva so Tess ended up giving me a peck under the fireworks. 

From there, things got a little strange. The street party ended and we all went in pursuit of a bar. On the way Cat was still locking lips with her Scott, Tess was playing dead in the street to avoid being hit on by a creepy German and I had a guy chat me up who insisted I imagine what it would be like if I was Gollum (I think he got Australia and New Zealand confused...). No matter how many times we lost each other in the chaos we always managed to find each other again. However, the night had conclusively come to and end when Tess decided to turn her life into a musical and frolic the streets, only communicating through song. Her favourite was, 'you take the high road and I'll take the low road and I'll be in Scotland before you'. Thank God for iPhones and their video feature is all I can say.

At 5am we managed to make it into bed, although there wasn't much point. Tess and I were up again at 7 to watch a crazy tradition called Loony Dook. This entails getting dressed up and going for a dip in the freezing cold Scottish water just outside of Edinburgh on New Years Day. While Tess and I didn't partake, the fresh air did wonders for our hangovers and it was hilarious to see the procession of costumes lead by a percussion band parading down to the water.

After Loony Dook we were desperate to go straight back to bed however, were reluctant as that morning we'd seen a mouse in our room at St Christopher's! I'd seen it the night before however, in the dark I thought it had perhaps been a figment of my drunk imagination. But no, the little critter had ran past Tess while she was getting ready for Loony Dook resulting in a pretty impressive yelp. Tiredness won out over fear though, and we spent the day dozing and catching up on the previous night's antics over a pub dinner.

For our last night in Edinburgh we attended a farewell party at the hostel. Free shots and suspiciously fleurescent energy drinks got us through the night, but by midnight we had had enough cheesy music and were in desperate need of a rest. Four parties in three days will do that to you!

Fookin' Bruges (and Brussels)

Challenge 3: Go on lots of day/weekend/many day trips (don't stay in the same place, explore, travel, wander)

When I look back, if the beginning of my trip to Belgium was anything to go by there were always going to be glitches. The night before departing I naively went out for a friend's birthday with the belief that I'd be tucked up in bed by midnight. However, as I'm currently staying with my friend Cat, our departure time was completely dependant on when she finished 'getting acquainted' with my friend's housemate. As it turned out this wasn't until about half one, which was slightly problematic as I had to be up to catch my bus to the airport at half three!

Nevertheless, I got up and caught two buses to Heathrow only to pass out on the plane. Luckily, the adrenaline kicked in upon arriving in Brussels as I was meeting one of my oldest and best friends Tess in the Belgian capital. Our reunion was everything I'd thought it would be, after all, Tess was my first "boyfriend". At our all girls primary school, Tess kindly offered to dress up as a boy and be my date at a barn dance on year 5 camp. Obviously, with such a rich history, our reunion was bound to be dramatic. Just like in a movie we ran to each other and embraced in excitement. Well, she ran and I kind of cautiously shuffled as I was on a hill holding bags.

Tess had picked an amazing location for us to stay in Brussels, right off Louisa Avenue, a stunning street with a combination of high end and high street fashion for us to explore. It reminded us of Paris, without the wank. Our first port of call was a good coffee shop. We were amazed to find a very cool cafe that had soy milk (a rarity in Europe) where we caught up on the events of the past year. From there we went exploring the city and found ourselves meandering through in a gorgeous Christmas market where we indulged on bratwurst and crepes.

To finish up a lovely day together we went to dinner, and this I believe is where it all started to go wrong. The meal was in a very touristy part of town and was overpriced with terrible service. So when the bill arrived minus the acidic house white we had struggled down, neither of us were keen to point out their mistake. Tess was riddled with guilt afterwards however, I didn't bat an eyelid. Perhaps I should have, after all, karma's a bitch. After our meal Tess and I went for our first waffle, which was unfortunately undercooked. This may not seem like a big deal, but it was the twig that started a tumbleweed of disappointment.

The next day we went on a walking tour to really discover Brussels. It turned out to be a very cool city, with no bill boards because the mayor decided that people should be able to look at images that are creative, inspiring and don't aim to sell anything. Where bill boards used to be, there are now murals of Belgian comic characters like Tin Tin. On a short break we stopped in a pub where we had yet another disappointing waffle (this one was like cardboard with cool whip) which put a bit of a damper on our morning. It seemed that this was a turning point in our tour too; our once jolly guide all of a sudden became solemn and bossy. Bad waffles will do that to you I guess.

Our culenary mediocrity continued when we went in search of the famous Belgian frites, which are supposedly double fried to make them extra delicious. But after hearing all the mouth watering hype, the chips were sadly pretty average. We were having no luck and Belgium only had two chances left to reinstate it's reputation: chocolate and beer. The rest of our afternoon was spent chocolate shopping and in a cafe called Delerium which served over 2000 Belgian beers. The first beers we tried were amazing fruit beers which tasted similar to cider however, not as sweet or carbonated. Sadly, bad luck struck on our second choice. Tess had made a friend at the bar who recommended the Christmas beer which he described as being full of cinnamon and other festive flavours. In reality, it was a dark ale that left a bitter taste in your mouth (both literally and figuratively). 

We had planned on heading to Bruges that evening however, after a few fruit beers we thought it would be better to grab some dinner, an early night and catch the train in the morning. I'm so glad we did because on our way home we stumbled across a sound and light show in the main square that was totally magical. Watching the historic town hall light up while Tess held me to keep me warm made all our bad luck melt away (best "boyfriend" ever). Just to top it off, on our way home we admired the Christmas lights and sang Christmas carols.

However, in the morning our Belgian bad luck reared its ugly head again. My weekend bag broke and I had to hold it together with my scarf. Then the owner of the hostel wasn't awake to process card payments so Tess had to go hunting for an ATM, delaying our departure to Bruges. To provide a little background, I've wanted to visit Bruges ever since I saw the movie In Bruges years ago. When I read there were Christmas markets there it only heightened my excitement. Unfortunately, our arrival was dampened by the people at St Christopher's hostel who attempted to charge us an extra €50 for the room we were going to book online. We assumed the prices had gone up since we looked the night before, but actually the price to book in person was just ludicrously more expensive. Feeling ripped off we decided to go in search of the famous Christmas markets to lift our spirits. Turns out I was mistaken, the markets in Bruges are actually tiny and the big ones are in another town called Gent. My heart was officially breaking. 

Bruges temporarily redeemed itself when I caught glimpse of a little cafe called 'Miss Ellie'. As this is a nickname from my parents as well as what the kids at work call me, we obviously had to stop in for a snack. Tess went to town taking pictures of me with the placemats, signs, menus...really anything that had my name on it! We were so distracted by Miss Ellie's that we almost missed our walking tour. Luckily we didn't because while the tour itself was just ok, it provided us with the vital information we needed about a pub crawl that night.

That night we grabbed some mulled wine and bratwurst from the market for a quick dinner and went to meet our pub crawl group sporting some amazing Christmas getup. I was particularly fashionable in a Christmas jumper with a cat wearing a sequin Santa hat, pompom included. We enjoyed some more fruit beer, shots poured straight down our throats in the street and some quirky company. From American brothers who were cagey about their professions to a total stranger who insisted on drawing us, everyone seemed nice, albeit a little odd. However, odd quickly turned to confusing and downright disturbing when we reached the final bar.

This bar was more like a club and was completely full of men. Tess and I were having a great time dancing when I spotted a guy by the bar with shaggy blonde surfer hair. Convinced he had to be Australian, Tess went and asked him only to discover he and his friends were Belgian and deaf. We had an amazing time communicating with them via text which amused us all no end. After our conversation Tess and I returned to dancing when suddenly one of the American brothers announced he was a stripper and would take his shirt off for Tess for €20. She laughed it off assuming he was joking, but he sat her down and began to slowly remove his shirt and tie, flinging the tie around her neck. Meanwhile one of our new deaf friends was getting very upset by the whole situation and stepped in to tell him to leave Tess alone. Being deaf this wasn't an easy feat and I swear I saw them writing their argument on napkins at one point! Apparently whatever he wrote didn't get across because the American kept coming back demanding money from Tess. It was only when she got really upset that he changed his mind and said it was a joke. We're still not sure if he was kidding but we knew it was time to leave...

We were escorted home by an Australian guy who was concerned that some creeps in the club had been sneaking photos of us. Desperately in need of a pick me up, we decided to grab some chips on the way home. I befriended the chip guy who played me music off his iPod and provided us with a heater while we waited. Unfortunately, after this hospitality Tess dropped the chips down herself, covering her coat in 'samurai' sauce. We managed to salvage some though, and admittedly they do taste better at 3am after a few drinks.

So we had come to the end of our time in Belgium. We spent the morning shopping in Zara and eating at Miss Ellie's. We had left ample time to get back to Brussels and to the airport but of course, every bus and train we had to catch was delayed, causing us to almost miss our flight. When we finally reached the airport we were told the only way to get on the plane was to throw out any liquids over 100ml, meaning we lost almost all our toiletries. Belgium had broken us. It must have been obvious because the flight attendents were more than happy to give us a large dose of vodka on the plane home and kindly told us that if we needed more, we knew where to find him.

That's the Jingle Bell Ball

London Bucket List: See Olly Murs Live

In his song Thinking of Me Olly Murs asks, 'Winter time in London, are you making plans?'.

Who is Olly Murs you ask? Well shame on you. Olly Murs was a runner up on UK X Factor and has apparently become England's (and my) sweetheart. He also happens to be the reason I forked out over 100 quid to go to the Jingle Bell Ball at the O2 last weekend. See, I have found a kindred spirit in my friend Cat who also loves Olly, so we promised each other we would see him live before I leave the UK. It turned out the only gig he was doing in London in that time frame was at the huge Christmas party, the Jingle Bell Ball.  

To clarify, JBB isn't actually a ball, it's more like a one stage festival that goes over two days. We were thrilled to discover that sharing the stage with Olly would be Katy Perry and Ellie Goulding along with an assortment of British artists like Tinie Tempah, Rizzle Kicks, Union J, Naughty Boy, Disclosure and James Arthur. On first glance I only vaguely recognised the names on the lineup, but it turned out I knew songs by everyone who played. In fact, quite a few of the songs have been the backing track to my time in London, or at least my time on London dance floors.

The atmosphere at the O2 was amazing. If I wasn't already feeling festive, this was the place to get an injection of Christmas cheer. The audience were all given tiny lights that you attached onto your fingers so that when the house lights went down it looked like thousands of tiny stars were floating in the stadium. At one point in the show they held a giant karaoke session with the entire audience by putting the lyrics to All I Want For Christmas Is You on the big screen and towards the end of the event they even made it snow. A number of balloons filled with white confetti and iTunes vouchers were burst over the audience, it's just a shame Cat and I were a tiny bit too far up to reap the rewards.

First to take the stage was mine and Cat's future husband (there's a religion that allows that, right?) Olly Murs. Cheeky as anything, the notorious troublemaker paraded around the stage pulling off some awesome moves and singing some of my favourite songs. He even changed the words of his own love ballad Put Your Hand on my Heart to "put you hand on my ass", which admittedly isn't quite as poetic. Regardless, I was transported straight back to when I first moved to London and I used to listen to Olly on my walk to Liverpool Street station to get to work. He was even the soundtrack on my train trip to Cambridge before my interview at the University.

Following Olly was another X Factor contestant, James Arthur who sings the song Impossible. I absolutely love that song and it too has the ability to transport me to another time and place. On my first night in the UK I was up in Yorkshire and struggling to keep my eyes open from the jet lag. My head was bobbling around like a buoy in the ocean as I sat in the back of a friend's car, but I can still remember that that song was playing on the radio. It's one of those songs that you can't sing along to without really belting it, as the Year 5s from work last school year proved. It was coming up to the summer holidays and I was left with them for the whole day, by myself, for the first time. I was merely given the instructions that they could do 'something fun' which I knew really meant finish off some drawings they had started. However, we all got bored of that pretty quickly so instead I decided we would have class karaoke. The rules were the kids could only choose a song if they were able to act or draw the title. The most memorable was definitely Impossible; one of the kids stood in front of the class and told them that he could fly. Eventually one of the other children responded that what he was saying was impossible. Bingo! So the song got played, year 5 belted it out and I got some raised eyebrows from other staff members. Oops. Needless to say, when James Arthur sang it at JBB I got really into it, it was just a shame he didn't. I've never seen someone so miserable on a stage in my life. Not to worry, I had enough enthusiasm and embarrassing hand gestures for the both of us.

Another song that reminded me of the kids was Ellie Goulding's Burn. This time it was the current Year 5 class who I had been teaching for an afternoon. They had been reasonably well behaved while they worked to the sultry tunes of Ed Sheeran, so I decided to try something a teacher at home used to do. She would let one child who had behaved well choose a song and the kids would have the length of that song to pack up. Because they wanted to hear the music they were often quite quiet. So, I allowed a girl to choose a song and she picked Burn. What I hadn't factored in was that these were not the private school kids from Brighton, they were spirited Londoners from Hackney who apparently become possessed when they hear a base line. Although the song begins quite gently, it certainly builds to the climax of the chorus where the dance beat kicks in. It was at that precise moment that my classroom turned to a chaotic nightclub for 10 year olds. Oops again. As it happened the kids had some pretty interesting moves, much like Ellie Goulding herself, who bounced around the stage flinging her gorgeous blond hair around like a mad woman. What was really surprising though was how well spoken she was. Considering she had such a big attitude while performing, she had the tiniest voice when she addressed the audience, spoken in perfect Queen's English with impeccable manners. I guess looks can be deceiving.

I have a few new favourite British acts thanks to Jingle Bell Ball, one of which is Rizzle Kicks. I had absolutely no idea who the hip hop duo were before last weekend and now I'm totally hooked. They had so much energy and their songs were so catchy you couldn't help but get up and dance. They even have their own dance to accompany their song Mamma do the Hump, which I now play every morning to motivate me to get out of bed and brave the bleak English weather. It involves leaning back, wriggling your hips and moving your fists around in small circular motions. Google it, it's addictive. My other new fave is Union J. Move over One Direction because a new boy band (also from X Factor) is in town. I already had a soft spot for Union J after discovering their song Carry You which I played on repeat for about a week. However, thanks to their performance at JBB my love has grown and I'd definitely consider myself a J-Cat. This could be because they captured my heart by singing a medley of Christmas songs, or because their Britpop sound is incredibly catchy or simply because I found out that one of them, Josh, is really cute. So cute in fact, I went to see the Union J concert this week and came ever so close to meeting the boys, thanks to my friend whose job is to market the Union J dolls. Sadly it wasn't to be, but my hopes are still high that he'll be under the tree on December 25th. I've been pretty well behaved this year...mostly.

Amongst the 9 acts at JBB there are always going to be the big boys. On our night there was the obvious headline act, Katy Perry, who brought all her Christmas cheer with dancing elves, falling snow flakes and even fireworks, but perhaps more surprising was Tinie Tempah, who the crowd absolutely loved. It was pretty amazing to see the whole of the O2 on their feet, hands in the air waving their fairy lights around. It turns out Cat and I knew Tinie Tempah well, we just didn't realise it because his name gets tacked on with better known artists such as Swedish House Mafia, Calvin Harris and Labrinth. While it was a little disconcerting to see so many 14 year olds singing along to Drinking from the Bottle, Tinie Tempah was the undeniable crowd favourite.

I personally loved Katy Perry, who was the perfect ending to my trip down memory lane through music. With so many reminders of why I love London it was good to have some tunes that reminded me of home. For my 21st birthday I went to see Katy in Melbourne with my best friend and her first album was always playing in my car when I cruised by the beach. Today marks one month until I fly back home, and with so many doubts in my mind it's good to have a little reminder of what and who are waiting for me on the other end. But to answer Olly's question, yes I do have some amazing plans ahead for my London Winter and my final month living in the UK!

Drink, Pray, Love at the Church

Challenge 3: Explore & wander 
Challenge 4: Introduce yourself to everyone
Bonus: The London Bucket List

Making friends

As my time in London is rapidly coming to an end, I have created a bit of a bucket list of things I want to do before my impending departure. Yesterday I ticked off one of London's 'must do' events for an Aussie passing through: The Church. I had heard mixed things about this notorious even that runs on a Sunday afternoon, ranging from 'it's amazing' to 'it's an experience' to 'there's bad, and then there's The Church'. All I really knew was that people get dressed up and go to have a good time on a Sunday while praying that their hangover is bearable the next day at work. For anybody considering going or for those who are just curious about what goes on, the website provides very little assistance. Therefore, I have taken it upon myself to create a list of "frequently asked questions" and answers based on my chaotic four hours there.

Where does The Church take place?
The Church has recently moved from Clapham to Elephant and Castle, apparently it's 10th venue due to the unruly nature of the event. This doesn't shock me as I had heard stories about people getting to the door, vomiting on the bouncer and then still being granted entry. Upon entry you are required to go through a metal detector before having your bags checked and if you're really lucky, like the girls in front of me were, frisked by security. Once you are inside the venue you will be faced with a raised bar that overlooks a large concrete dance floor and stage, reminiscent of the former Famous nightclub in Melbourne. Classy.

Do you have to dress up?
No, you don't have to dress up but it's very much frowned upon if you don't. Donned in our matching baseball player outfits my friend and I fit right in amongst the power rangers, cowboys, animal onsesies and cross dressers that strut their stuff on the dance floor. Let's be honest, dressing up provides an opportunity to spark conversation with your fellow revellers too. For example, if I hear the words "I like your hat" one more time I'm probably going to scream. I was literally fighting off random men just to keep my plain white H&M cap on my head (I know you bought it to keep me sun smart Dad, but turns out it's just a dude magnet).

Do they accept credit and debit cards at The Church?
No, the bar staff deal exclusively in cash. It adds to the sophisticated feeling you get when they place your Smirnoff Ice or Fosters, which you buy in bulk, into a plastic bag so that you can easily carry it with you on the dance floor. As if that wasn't thoughtful enough, you're also provided with a bottle opener on the end of a lanyard for your convenience. However, if you're strapped for cash like everyone else in London, I highly recommend doing a champagne/vodka breakfast at home like we did, just to get you in the mood. Sure, you feel like an alcoholic drinking at 10:30 on a Sunday morning, but this isn't your average Sunday session.

Will there be entertainment?
Oh yes, absolutely. Don't let the information on the website fool you. While they inform you there will be cracking tunes and a comedian, only half of that statement is correct. I did thoroughly enjoy dancing to some classic 80s anthems but when they say comedian, they actually mean there's an MC who cracks a few jokes while introducing the strippers. Yep, strippers. We're not talking talented Magic Mike style strippers either. There was a lovely young lady by the name of Stephanie who did a delightful routine to Diamonds Are A Girl's Best Friend while removing her clothing and dancing with some large feathered fans. I don't really understand what the fans were for as they didn't cover anything by the end of the routine. I'd love to say I kept my cool during the performance but the truth is I wasn't sure where to look and the nice girl in me kept wondering how many more performances she had to do before she had enough money for med school. As if Stephanie wasn't traumatising enough then came the male stripper. I can't remember his name but I'm pretty sure it was Tyrone or something along those lines. To cut to the chase I was convinced Tyrone had something stuffed down his pants to make himself seem well endowed, however I discovered this wasn't the case when he removed his towel and began to helicopter his junk around. I knew exactly where to look this time, straight into my hands which covered my eyes while I screamed like a little school girl.

Is The Church only for Australians?
No, The Church is a mecca for a variety of backpackers and expats from Australia, New Zealand, South Africa, Ireland, America and France just to name a few. There was even the occasional Brit there. Really, it's an excellent opportunity to meet new people and become more knowledgable about the variety of cultures that can be found in this wonderful city. It's a place where amongst the cans, bottles and bags that swim around your feet, various nationalities come together for a swapping of ideas and saliva. Deals are made (for example, trading hats for kisses) and race and age don't matter (as a young Aussie lad discovered when he become acquainted with a 46 year old). It's really quite lovely when you stop to think about it. Perhaps if the world's governments sorted their issues out over chocolate body paint and made deals involving the odd cheeky pash, the world would be a better place.

Is The Church for me?
I think it takes a special kind of person to stomach The Church. If you're going to go, go with an open mind and be prepared to get your feet dirty. It's probably not the place to be if you're part of a couple as every minute there feels like 'desperate o'clock', and even as a single you'd only ever go once! In short, it's fun to get dressed up and have a dance and a laugh, but if anything my main complaint is there's probably too much class in one place to handle on a regular basis.

The dangers of karaoke

Challenge 2: Karaoke

Mia 'thriving not shining'

As a child I was regaled with stories of how my mother used to steal microphones at social events and belt out Mustang Sally. She was a self-proclaimed and admittedly awful karaoke queen and now every time I hear that song a shiver creeps down my spine. On the weekend I unfortunately discovered that I am in fact my mother's daughter, a filthy microphone hog and I have the scars to prove it.

It had been a running joke that my friend Max and I would one day do karaoke so, as my time in London is rapidly coming to an end we decided there's no time like the present. Despite having taken private singing lessons, being in the school choir from the age of 9 and studying music up until Year 11, the notion of standing in front of people and singing utterly petrifies me. I've always wondered if I'm like one of those poor souls on X Factor who truly believes they can sing but really sound like a cat being strangled. As a result I desired, nay needed, a little dutch courage to get me through the two hour session that we had booked.

As I was running late, there was a quick pre-drinking session at a mate's place, which proved enough to take the edge off. After some vodka the notion of yelling into a mic with a group of friends seemed a tiny bit less daunting, until someone asked, 'Didn't you used to sing at school?' Shit. Had I really mentioned that? Luckily the focus was taken swiftly off my choir girl days when my friend Mia started informing strangers on the train that we were headed to Dime Bar for a spot of karaoke and began and in-depth discussion about which songs she would be choosing. She was adamant that while she may not shine that evening, she would indeed thrive.

And thrive she did. As soon as we were escorted into our little karaoke dungeon, which resembled a sauna with a large screen on the wall, more drinks were ordered and Mia was onto that microphone faster than Max could request Gangnam Style (which he did sing in perfect Korean might I add). We were dancing on couches, the vodka cranberries were going down nicely and after I felt sufficiently tipsy I decided it was time. I had already added one of my favourite shower songs Hit Me With Your Best Shot to the playlist, so when it came on I was ready. Now, what my friends don't know is that I wasn't going to leave this monumental moment up to chance; I had actually had a quick run through of the song using the lyrics off youtube a few nights before. Spot the loser. What I hadn't banked on was that with a little vodka in my system, what I'd anticipated would be simply trying to stay in tune became a full blown performance. I was a woman possessed! There were Mariah Carey hands, there was vibrato, I didn't care what anyone else thought because all of a sudden I was a diva. Another girl who I'd only met once before decided to join in with me and it turned out she could really sing! Brilliant! Someone to duet A Whole New World from Aladdin with me!

I was obviously devastated when our time was up however, I was still overcome by the music. After exiting the booth I decided to duck off to the bathroom which was down some stairs. The combination of too much vodka, very high shoes and bouncing to my own rendition of songs from the Lion King proved too much. With the grace of a baby giraffe, I tumbled straight down the whole flight of stairs and landed by the feet of some poor unsuspecting stranger. I remember thinking at the time 'act sober' and that my hand was stinging a little but I otherwise didn't notice any damage. The following morning I awoke to discover I had scraped skin off the stop of my hand and that my legs were black and blue from the knee down. I couldn't help but laugh at the irony of coming away from singing Hit Me With Your Best Shot looking as though I'd been assaulted.

On Monday the kids had plenty of questions for me about what happened to my hand. I've learnt from my recent obsession with shows like Lie to Me and White Collar that the best lies are the ones where only part of the truth is omitted, so I told the kids that I had fallen down some stairs while wearing very big shoes. One of them told me that it was ok and she understood, after all she had fallen off the swings once. I just nodded and told her they sounded like very similar stories...

Kids say the darnest things...innit

Challenge 4: Introduce yourself to EVERYONE

I can't believe I'm saying this, but this week I am on my last school holiday before embarking on my final half term in London. I still remember the sleepless night I had before my first day; I had heard horror stories about London schools and I was utterly petrified. I decided to voice my concerns to someone who I knew had taught over here (after all, he had told me the horror stories) but was swiftly told to suck it up and enjoy!

Turns out there was absolutely nothing to worry about. Sure, I was no longer working in a private Catholic school where the kids would hand themselves forward if they had hit someone, after trying to rationally discuss the situation of course, but I can comfortably say that I have met some of the most hilarious and spirited kids while working in London.

Being from Australia was a definite ice-breaker with the kids, and has continued to be a point of fascination for them. On my first day I was left in the year 5 classroom to read them some questions about a book they were studying. I'll never forget the wide-eyed looks I was given when asking a simple yes or no question. I couldn't understand why nobody was answering me when finally one kid raised his hand and informed me, 'Miss, we can't understand what you're saying'. While most of the children have learnt to decipher my Melbourne drawl, it still does cause problems occasionally. Most recently, and probably the most embarrassing, was when I was doing dictation with a group of year 2 and 3 children. The sentence was A fish can't fly. I was horrified when I sat down to mark their work and discovered that a quarter of the class had misunderstood how I pronounced the word can't and written a more controversial four letter word starting with c.

Not only have the kids learnt a bit about Australia from working with me (for example, no I cannot just become an aborigine because I'm Australian), but I have learnt a lot about London, specifically Hackney from working with them. A short film was made about Hackney and the school around the time that I arrived. I was probably still a little nervous about working in London at this point and my worries were not exactly put to rest by two little girls who featured in the film. When asked by the interviewer if they enjoyed living in Hackney one girl replied, 'yeah, it's really fun' while the other calmly interjected with, 'someone got shot in my street'. 

I love the black and white way the children view their world. A 5 year old came into my class one day with a temporary tattoo on his hand. I told him it was very nice and teasingly asked him if it was real. He politely replied that no, it was not and he would not get a real tattoo, especially if it was a crab because crabs pinch you and that would hurt. Fair enough. I have also learnt from the concerns of a year 6 girl that if I am going to go back to Australia to become a psychologist I will need to invest in more pencil skirts, collared shirts and a leather notepad (however, my watch is fine...I can keep that).

My favourite logic from the kids is that if a man and a woman hug, that means they're boyfriend and girlfriend, or so playground gossip tells me. One day I was leaving work early because I wasn't feeling well and my friend Andrew gave me a hug goodbye. Andrew and I were the talk of the school with last year's year 5s as they not only believed we were a couple, but decided to hold a wedding for us at the park. It was a lovely ceremony perhaps except for when the 10 year old celebrant asked if Andrew would take me as his awfully wedded wife. The fact that the groom was gay may also have been problematic, and totally lost on the children. Well, it appears our hug sparked up rumours once more with the current year 5s. One Thursday, Andrew's day off, a year 5 casually mentioned that perhaps my day would have been better if Mr Miles was around. Trying to stifle my laughter, I asked the boy why he thought that. He pondered this and decided that it's because we 'laugh lots together, talk quietly together and seem very comfortable together'. Trying to wind him up, I asked the boy if there was something he wasn't telling me. Was there a point to what he was saying? A sheepish grin spread across his face and he surprised me when he put his index fingers together and drew the shape of a giant love heart in the air. No matter how much I deny my relationship with Mr Miles, the kids seem to think this is a romance for the ages.

There have been some absolute gems in the kids' work over the past year too. When marking a (quite outdated) comprehension task one day I noticed there was the question, Why did the soldiers look gay? The correct answer was because they were wearing blue and red uniforms however, one child answered The soldiers looked gay because they had strange faces. In a year 6 class, another TA informed me that the kids were coming up with words that contained the word man, like snowman. One girl wrote the word womaniser. When asked what it meant she conceded that she didn't know, but she knew Britney Spears sang about it. One of my favourites was when I was in year 1 doing a 'who, what, where, when sentence' activity. I was roaming the classroom checking work when some girls seemed very proud that they had put me in their sentence. They had not quite finished, so when I asked them what they thought they were missing they enquired was it, 'who is on Miss Ellie?'.

As much as I want to lock myself in the stationary cupboard some days, I have loved getting to know these amazing kids who come from such different backgrounds to myself. I think after a year together we have come to understand each other. This was confirmed when Andrew was taking a group of children that I normally help and he asked one of them would she rather Miss Ellie be teaching her. Apparently after a brief pause she replied, 'she's...complicated.' God, kids are preceptive!