Summer in Europe Part II: Hungary

After spending a little more than a week in Croatia, our next stop was Hungary. The initial reason for visiting the country was to catch up with friends going to the Sziget music festival. I'd heard Budapest was a great city to visit and with the prospect of baths to cool off from the searing hot temperatures we figured it would be a nice change from the beach life we had been living in Croatia.

But with six days left in the holiday, I didn't want to spend it all in Budapest. So using Google Maps and Images I found a train stop on the way called 'Siofok'. A small town by a large lake, it was apparently the party capital for people in Hungary and looked like a good place to break up the seven hour train ride. So we booked our ticket and waited with anticipation for what we hoped would be a ICE (that's the German fast train), air-conditioned and comfortable style train to take us.

Of course the reality was far different to this dream - if the train from Croatia to Hungary had been operating in the 19th century i wouldn't have been surprised. Jumping on the closest carriage we could, we quickly found a seat only to be told 20 minutes later that the middle carriages don't go into Hungary (!). Because that makes perfect sense, for the middle ones to be taken out as opposed to the front or back ones. So i had to bolt to the front to find seats while the boy carried our luggage - eventually all i could find was first class seats and when the woman checked our tickets and didn't say anything the relief was overwhelming. Then came the excitement at the fact that we'd just snuck into first class. Of course it didn't last the entire trip, but we only had to stand for about 40 minutes and it was quite good to get a chance to stick our heads out of the window. That air-conditioning I mentioned? Nada. Not even for the rich people. But then again I guess the real rich people wouldn't be seen dead on this type of train.

Our nightmare train ride - made much better by sneaking into first class!

Arriving in Siofok, we were the only passengers to get off at this stop. It made me feel equally clever at picking somewhere not on the tourist-trail and also scared shitless that i had picked somewhere that was a bit crap. But when we saw the lake, well it definitely was far from crap.

Lake Balaton, Siofok - absolutely stunning

The food and drinks were ridiculously cheap and the nightlife was crazy - it seems this is a little undiscovered Ibiza without the 18 year old English lads on tour. Cocktails were two for one all night, and you could get Jager 'Booms' at every second bar. We only got two nights in this amazing place, and the highlight was definitely learning to windsurf, something i've always wanted to do. We both picked it up in about an hour and although there wasn't a great deal of wind it was the perfect way to watch the sunset, and our last ones being 'beach bums' as such.

Learning the art of windsurfing

As we waited for the train to Budapest, we expected the worst. And lucky, because it was as horrible as the one that dropped us off in this little piece of paradise. Seats were only available in the sun and the stop start process made us over an hour later than we'd planned. This was soothed by our arrival at our 'hostel', which turned out to be an awesome apartment with kitchen, lounge room and beautiful old-fashioned Hungarian furniture (would highly recommend Yep Hostel).

After a quick look around the heat was too much and we headed to the first Baths we could find - Gallert. Meeting my friends there, we did the thermal cycle that takes you from pretty hot baths to a ridiculously hot sauna, then into an ice cold bath. The feeling was amazing, I was cold on the outside and hot on the inside - definitely a weird sensation!

Gallert baths in Budapest - Bliss on a hot summers' day

While we had planned to head to the festival on the Sunday, i desperately wanted to go on the Saturday, and finally convinced the boy on the condition that we did a walk up the hill on the side of the city which i'd previously been too lazy to do. Compromise is the key to a successful relationship no?

We didn't make it to the festival until 9pm - I opened the seal far too early and had to pee 5 times on the way and the boy thought it was a brilliant idea to walk to the island on the map as there was surely only one island in Budapest (for the record, there are two. I know this now through experience). But when we made it, Mika was just about to come on and the party afterwards was more than perfect.

Mika live at Sziget - great performance

I went into 'looking-after' mode quite quickly after the show - it's not often my boyfriend gets really drunk but when he does, if you can picture a crazy happy Russian and a crazy German acting like all their birthdays and christmases have come at once, well that's him on a big night out. But this wasn't a problem, because after recovering the next day and heading back to the festival for David Guetta, it was my turn to be the one who needed looking after, particularly when I thought it was a brilliant idea to jump on the back of a car while we were walking from one stage to the next.

Comprehending the pain of the flight home the next day

The next day after a hellish bus ride to the airport, we reflected on an amazing two weeks. It was our first proper couply holiday (two Oktoberfests don't count) and the boy's first time away where he could only really speak English (apart from in Siofok, where they mostly spoke German and Russian). It was also my first long holiday where I wasn't just taking a long weekend in a few years and it felt like we had experienced everything in that time - we'd swam in seas, lakes, baths and rivers; we'd traveled by train, bus, car and plane; we'd done diving, wakeboarding and windsurfing; we'd been relaxing, partying, eating amazing food, seeing great friends and spending quality time alone. It was everything I wanted from my holiday and more. And knowing we would be off to Ireland in two weeks made it less painful to get that bus from Frankfurt Hahn airport back to our home. xx

Summer in Europe Part I: Croatia

it has been a while since I've posted last, but I feel I have a somewhat acceptable excuse; being an Aussie in Europe, when the summer comes it's all about finding as many beaches as possible and travelling as much as I can! Since moving to England the summer has been the time to get out of my home and see somewhere new. Or a lot of different new places. And this summer was no different - after visiting 13 cities over the three months and four countries in total, playing with four different currencies and trying to work my way through a jungle of languages, it's definitely been one of the busiest ones to date.

A lot of people assume that being Australian and in a land-locked city, we must miss being close to the beach. I do, but to be honest I never really went to the beach that much while I had it on my doorstep; I guess it's that age old thing of not realising how good something is until you lose it. The boy asked me on our trip to Croatia why I get so excited about seeing beaches in Europe when I have much better ones at home. It took me a while to answer the question, but I suppose the main thing is the difference in cultures. You can go Australia-wide and the food will be the same, as well as the accents and the colour of the sand. Here, we go from one country to another by train and with the crossing of the border comes a whole new way of life. And that's pretty exciting in it's own right.

So, while I have already written about my experience at Glastonbury and in London as well as my trips around Germany, I'll begin with Croatia.

I'd been to Croatia once before this trip on a long weekend with my sister and some friends. Thanks to Ryanair it's very cheap to get from London to Zadar and we went for around 80 euros return to the coastal town. It was amazing, and left a fantastic impression of a European city full of amazing food, atmosphere, beach trips and friendly people. The cocktails being at happy hour prices permanently helped it's cause too. So when looking at the possibility of going to Turkey (which was going to set us back 300 euros each for flights alone), and finding out some really good friends of mine were travelling through Croatia at the end of July, it didn't take much to convince me to change our plans.

Starting in Hvar, it was not exactly what I expected but beautiful nonetheless. I've heard Hvar is a great party town, but apart from some nightclubs on the docks which to be honest, Frankfurt clubs look better than, there wasn't that much in the way of nightlife. The beaches, however, definitely did not disappoint.

Our closest beach

One of the things the boy was desperate to do on this holiday was go diving - and in Hvar we found somewhere that took us out to sea for half a day. It took me a while to get the hang of breathing with the scuba pack, and when we swan into a cave I had to find the surface to calm down. But when I relaxed and took it all in, it felt like I was in another world. Swimming along the edge of the reef was stunning and it's definitely motivated me to get my diving licence when we travel to Australia next.

Heading down under

Underwater view

The diving was relatively cheap, around 30 euros, with Nautica diving school. And our friends were able to come with us and snorkel as well as relaxing on the boat. This day was definitely the highlight of my time in Hvar, and finishing it off with seafood for dinner made it perfect. Which brings me to the food - amazing! I don't think I ate anything besides fish, calamari, prawns and mussels the whole time at Hvar.

Seafood platter - luckily the boy can peel prawns for me :)

Our next stop was Zagreb which was inland and by the time we got there we were desperate for a steak. Unfortunately, when we got to the restaurant and ordered the steak it was actually a chicken schnitzel with cheese in it. But no matter, because one of my favourite things about Zagreb was how cheap everything was! I'm all understanding of how touristy places are expensive, but for the capital of Croatia to have food available at less than half the price of Hvar was crazy. I was glad Hvar was at the beginning of the trip rather than at the point where we were running out of money.

One of the things I really wanted to do in Zagreb was to see the Plitvice National Park, and my god it was beautiful. The most amazing thing about it was that they have been looking after it in terms of the environment since the early 20th century - despite there being so many tourists it's heavily enforced that you can't swim in the crystal clear blue water. Thankfully our tour guide knew somewhere we could swim as by the end of the day, looking at that water and sweating in the sun had left me so desperate for a swim the cold water didn't even bother me.

The water... perfection

No swimming allowed!

The next day we had planned to go kayaking but that got cancelled (would avoid booking this in Zagreb as the company aren't very easy to deal with and cancelled at the last minute), so we were at a loss to find something 'adventury' to do. The hostel found a lake nearby the city with wakeboarding and the boy was happy with this. For me, relaxing in the sun with my book was equally great :)

This was his second go. It's so annoying how good he is at sports!!

Our trip to the train station on the last day was filled with anxiety as we sought to purchase a ticket to Hungary - websites aren't great for telling you how much they will cost and with travelling from one country to another I was sure it would be quite high. But 30 euros each for the ticket left us both with a lot of leftover Croatian money and we decided that the best way to rid ourselves of this was to go on the Chillout Hostel Pub Crawl. At the end of the night, as we stumbled home together, I didn't want to leave this beautiful country.

A day of cycling in Wiesbaden

Some of the things I've come to love in Germany more than living anywhere else away from home are the things that remind me of home. Sydney had very subtle differences to Melbourne, London more obvious ones, and now in Frankfurt I find every supermarket trip to be a challenge if i'm attempting to find the things that I'm comfortable with and make me feel like, just for one meal or so, I'm not having to try something new.

Don't get me wrong - I love trying new things - but occasionally it can become rather tiring attempting to continually do things you're not used to and sometimes you just want that creature comfort that you know you'll love and won't take any time to be unbelievably enjoyable. So when I found out there was an English/Australian style fish and chip shop in the nearby city of Wiesbaden, I put it at the top of my list to make a visit.

Apparently they serve the fish and chips in newspaper as well - a concept that the boyfriend was completely confused by. Wouldn't the ink run onto the food? No, for some reason. Wouldn't it be really soggy and gross? Well, yes to the first bit and no to the second. So in order to show him just how amazing this meal that reminded me of my childhood and endless summers in Aus was, and then how awesome England was, we trekked out to the town which takes about an hour to get to from Frankfurt.

One of the things that everyone notices when they are travelling through Europe is the amount of cyclists around. My first chance to become one of those European cyclists came on a short trip to Amsterdam about 4 years ago. Within 10 minutes I had nearly been hit by a tram and my friend's tyre was flat. After this I decided maybe biking wasn't for me, but since moving here my boyfriend has had other ideas.

A big fan of any kind of sports and adventure sports, if he's not attempting to convince me to go to Italy for a week of paragliding (only 2000 euros and you get to keep the paraglide apparently! I don't think in my life have i ever longed for a paraglide in my wardrobe?!) he's getting me to book diving, kayaking and rafting on our trip to Croatia. I certainly don't mind, and enjoy being influenced into doing things like this, but when it comes to biking i turn into a scared little 10 year old all over again, flying towards a tree with my dad yelling at me to slam on the brakes and looking ahead to my perceived death.

So when he suggested we take the bikes to Weisbaden and ride around the city, I needed some reassurances. Will there be any uphill? Certainly not! Will we be able to cycle on the footpath? Of course! And will there be loads of other cyclists so we're not the only ones weaving in and out of the people? Obviously. Assured by his answers, i got back on the bike (literally) and we took off for the train.

One thing I should have learnt a long time ago was that generally, when you're in a relationship and want someone to do something that they normally wouldn't be ok with but you think they'll enjoy once they're doing it, you dress up the truth just a little bit with a white lie or two and then you'll be the hero when they realise you were right to make them do it. I know this because I constantly did it to boyfriends (come on this holiday! it'll be so cheap, we'll hardly spend any money! Or we'll go to the party but i promise i won't get too drunk/it won't be late and we can leave whenever you're ready). Anyway, turns out there were not many other bikes at all, we were on the road and there was this AMAZING hill we just had to climb to get the best view of the city.

And unfortunately for my stubbornness, despite feeling some pretty strong feelings of hate as I walked my bike up that bloody hill while he circled me saying 'it's better if you just ride it!' over and over with no understanding that in English this sentence has a double meaning, we made it to the top. And the view was actually pretty decent after all.

Weisbaden is actually a really beautiful city, with wineries winding through the old German houses and mansions and beautiful historical buildings surrounded by cobblestones. Not great to ride a bike on, but the place above was perfect for a quick nap before we set down the hill at a much faster pace than I had forced myself up it!

The view of the city - was it worth that horrendous ride? I'm still undecided.

When we finally made it to the fish and chip shop, we found it was closed on Sundays. Pretty disappointed, but a challenging day of riding on the road for the first time, discovering muscles i never thought i had and seeing some pretty beautiful views soothed my disappointment. One thing I've found since moving to Germany; you really never can guess what the next week is going to bring.

xx

Summer Returns to the Mindset in Frankfurt

One of the things that I got very used to living in London was the unpredictable weather. Rain or shine, you always took your umbrella out with you, and the decision over whether to got for a cheap one which would blow inside out after three goes and require buying another, or splash out on an expensive one with a week's worth of pay and have it blow inside out after six goes, was a question we constantly asked ourselves and one another. This was equally the case in summer and winter. For the first time I owned a winter coat and one pair of socks wouldn't cut it - again, this was the case at some points of the summer as well as throughout the winter as we bemoaned the death of our favourite season from our lives and sunk another pint at the pub.

It's well documented that London's summer leaves much to be desired. I always loved Nick Hornby's description of a pub's outdoor area in England in his book 'A Long Way Down':

“I took her outside on to a little roof terrace that looked like it never got the sun at nay time of the day or year, but there was a picnic table and a grill out there anyway. Those little grills are everywhere in England, right? To me they've come to represent the triumph of hope over circumstance, seeing as all you can do is peer at them out the window through the pissing rain.” 

I think the best part about this quote is that it actually represents the entirety of summer in London; while it is as unpredictable as the winter in terms of weather, and will only bring you a collective couple of weeks of pure joy, when it does the Londoners come out in full force to sunbathe in the parks, bask in the beer gardens and try and take in and enjoy every aspect of the sun on their skin like a temporary triumph over the general shittiness of their city's weather.

Moving to Frankfurt, I naively expected more of the same - after all, Germany is pretty cold in the winter and it's not as though I'm moving to a beautiful beachside town. But somehow it is here that i've recaptured that summer feeling where the sleepless nights, warm days for months on end and the ability to go out without a coat of any kind have reminded me so much of one of the greatest things of living in Aus.

I bought my first fan the other day since moving to Europe; while England does have a few hot days the nights are mostly cool and any uncomfortable-ness at the heat never lasted long enough for me to mind. Here, it is the opposite. So far, I've made a blind for my sky window to try and stop the heat getting in, woken up at 3am to reach for the fan many times, twice breaking glasses and scaring the whole house in the process, and brought back a sheet I left in London (apparently Germans don't do sheets, apart from the undersheet - they do 'summer blankets', with the blanket part clearly defeating the purpose) to become my new bedding.

My homemade blind - First DIY project! Material,
velcro and fabric glue (which sticks to walls apparently)
came to 17 Euros in total :)

There's also a beach here - well sort of, it's a lake with sand and the Germans don't seem to be able to explain to me thus far how the sand got there. It's no Manly but it's certainly a nice break from citylife.

Frankfurt's version of a beach.

So far I would say the summers I experienced in Sydney are very much like this temperature-wise, and while I don't enjoy the sleeplessness or the uncomfortable-ness, I have to admit it's been a nice feeling to live somewhere that does summer properly again.

One of the things that makes summer easier as well is the many beautiful parks surrounding Frankfurt city. I live just a 10 minute walk from the centre, and pass two parks on my way to the shops which is a nice change from my life in London where the choice was more either the park or the city centre, not both (unless you could afford one of those awesome Chelsea-style apartment blocks with the private parks).

It does seem the tradition in London of wanting to get away for the summer has carried through to Frankfurt. For us, it'll be a trip to Croatia for a week and a half to sunbathe, go diving and white water rafting, then onto a beach town in Hungary called 'Siofok' (it looks nice in google images) and then Budapest for the music festival which according to my seasoned-friend will be the best festival I'll ever go to. After Glastonbury I'm not so sure that's possible.

At one of the cocktail nights which I'm a regular attendant of, someone who had been living in Frankfurt told me that the city is much more lively in the summer than the winter. I found that hard to believe as I'd been here for Christmas markets and they were pretty damn lively. Perhaps she was referring to the months of January-June, when like London the place probably closes down into a counting down period until we can lose the wellies, put our winter coats in storage, and open those outdoor areas of the German beerhouses once more. But at least when next winter comes in Frankfurt, I'll be counting down until what I know will be a real long hot summer, not just a couple of collective weeks with a feeling deep down that I've moved to a place where climatically at least, I will not be compatible in the long term.

Till next time xx

Five Reasons Why Glastonbury Blew My Mind

I'm not the most seasoned festival goer, or the biggest music lover (I tend to listen to music for background noise more than as a hobby), but whenever the chance has risen to head out with friends to watch some live music, no matter what the genre I've always been up for giving a performer a chance. My only camping festival experience before Glastonbury had been Reading in 2011, and despite the young age group in attendance and the normal practise of burning tents on the last night, as well as only really knowing the headline acts, I had had an amazing time.

So Glastonbury - I assumed it would be a lot like Reading (in the basic sense), and with it being a serious bucket list item for me - when I was a kid and watched clips on Video Hits of the festival, I never dreamt in a million years I'd be able to go one day - we enthusiastically all got up at an ungodly hour on a hungover morning in October 2012 to get tickets to a five day event where we didn't have the slightest clue who would be performing. There were rumours the Rolling Stones would be there, but I didn't want to get my hopes up about seeing one of the most famous bands in the last 50 years.

Fast forward nine months, and I am so thankful that I decided to try and get those tickets on that fateful day. Because what I experienced over June 26-July 1st was something that I don't know if I'll ever have the chance to experience again (though there are plans to do a trip back to Glasto for my 30th!). Here's five reasons why it blew my mind and surpassed every expectation I had:

1. It's not a festival, it's a town

As the days went by we began to feel more like we were part of a town than at a music festival. Getting lost on the first night while we were trying to find V Bar (which turned out to be B Bar, hence the trouble finding it), the walk around just one of the parts of Glasto took around half an hour. I've been to small towns around Europe and this could certainly have passed off as one of them. From areas with craft fields and endless shops with artwork, clothes and festival accessories, to areas for Latino food and music, to a weird 'heaven and hell' area which would be interesting to walk through on acid, to chill out and acoustic areas, to the circus tent, to the place where if i were a child, I'd be in heaven... Glastonbury really had absolutely everything and I know in the six days we were there we certainly didn't nearly see everything.

Glasto: More town than festival

2. The music you never knew before, and can't live without now

We were a rather large group, but myself and two good friends planned to navigate our own way around and meet up with the others as we went along.

I was lucky to have mates with good musical taste!

I won't say I was overwhelmed with joy at the line up (apart from the Stones, obviously) - Arctic Monkeys and Mumford & Sons are not two of my favourite bands, and when my friends moved to convince me to go elsewhere it was a rather easy task. Friday night, we saw Chic feat. Nile Rodgers, and it was like a musical education. A guy I'd never heard of before that night, has written some of the most influential songs in history, penning for Madonna, Diana Ross, David Bowie, Duran Duran and most recently his sample is on the Daft Punk song Get Lucky. He really is the musical gift that keeps on giving and I'm kicking myself for not having known him earlier. Meanwhile, on Sunday we saw American singer/guitarist Gary Clark Jnr, and he equally surprised me. He just screamed cool in ways I don't know if I've ever seen in a live show before, and he's been added indefinitely to my Spotify playlist now.

3. The headliners surpassed unbelievably high expectations

I had a feeling seeing the Rolling Stones on Saturday night, at Glastonbury, and from the planned front of the stage position we were going for, would be a performance to beat every other that I've witnessed in my life. As the days led up to their set, we all talked about the possibility of being disappointed after hyping ourselves up so much for it. I accepted it was going to be a likely fact that they wouldn't be as good as I pictured in my head. I complained when my friends made their way to the front, concerned about the pushing and the inability to pee for the next four or so hours while we waited. But as they came on, I was instantly transported back to when I was that child, watching them on Video Hits and feeling like they were so far away from reality.

He had the moves like the Jagger of old

Now, they were right in front of me, and sounded every bit as when I was on summer holidays with my parents, blaring them out of the sound system. Like their music or not, their performance within itself was extraordinary; my grandfather can hardly walk, and after years of drugs, alcohol and partying these guys still have every bit the energy you'd expect from a 20 year old performer. So Stones, I salute you, and thank you for putting on a show I'll remember till I'm your age at least.

4. The friends you make

We were lucky enough to have some great friends willing to take our tents for us on a 4am bus on the Wednesday, almost rendering our 7am trip pointless. But when we arrived to tents already set up, and a group area in place and drinks at the ready, it was like we had our own community within the Glasto town already. Whenever you needed a break from the music, there was always someone to chill out with back at the tents as we all planned our itineraries to meet up at different points of the day. I went knowing about 5 people, but have come back with an entire group of new mates, and the in-jokes, the banter, the drinking games, the 'i have never's' where I learnt far too much about these people, were as much a part of the experience as the music.

My birthday night at Glastonbury - spent with my new best friends

5. Post-Glasto Life just isn't the same

Here I was thinking that after six days I'd be desperate to go home and have a shower, eat normal food again, and have the privilege of standing up while I got changed rather than having to be creative in my tiny tent. But when I woke up on Monday morning, and looked around at the deserted camp site while struggling to compute how to start packing, the last thing in the world that I wanted was to go home. Walking through the train station back at London Victoria, people were all dressed normally, and it made me so sad! After returning to Frankfurt I've showered less than I thought I would, and my desperation for cheese toasties in the morning has grown considerably. Gigwise summed up the post-Glasto blues much better than I have, but getting ready for a night out last night, when Daft Punk came on my Spotify, I'm not going to lie, it brought a small tear to my eye.

So there you have it kids. If you get the opportunity, do Glastonbury once in your life, you won't regret it I solemnly swear. Of course, I am off to Budapest in a month for Szeiget music festival, so my blues are being soothed by this fact somewhat!

Till next time xx

Heidelberg and Sachsenhausen: A tale of two towns

Since I arrived in Frankfurt, my girlfriends from the UK have been planning a trip over to see me. Luckily, Ryanair does flights between the cities for around 40 euros return if you book early enough, so with a few whatsapps and phone calls we worked out the weekend before my birthday was the perfect opportunity for them to drop by and see my Frankfurt life.

Showing off the life you've made for yourself to others who were a big part of your old one is always really exciting; I always feel the need to explain how different everything is where I am now, and all the good bits about my life and surroundings. The trouble with Frankfurt is that it's very much the kind of place you need to spend a bit of time in to get to know; the festivals and the weekly pop up events, as well as spending time with friends and doing things the outskirts of the city are what make it great. Otherwise it's just like any other city really, with a lot of skyscrapers, a river and a church, and shops that are shut for half the weekend (which still drives me crazy by the way!).

So myself and the boy devised a plan to take the girls to Heidelberg for the day. Heidelberg is about 90km outside of Frankfurt, and apparently is literally the geographical heart of Europe. With a castle and beautiful surrounding parks, it's the quintessential German town that everyone pictures is hidden in between the more modern cities around the country.

We arrived at about 12pm, with a rather elaborate picnic in tow that included fruit, sandwiches, treats and Frankfurt-made Apfelwein. We found a spot with a beautiful view of the castle, and the boy had ever so cleverly brought along shuttlecocks, one of those rocket things you throw that makes a funny noise and a frisbee.

The day was so relaxing, and the girls couldn't be happier to get some sun; I've been taking it for granted a bit here, and I didn't realise the weather was still so poor in London. One thing i can feel glad about having left is that god-awful weather, where the label 'summer' was surely a joke term for the middle months of the year.

So after the picnic we went for a walk through the town, which was absolutely beautiful and packed with like-minded tourists for the day. Ice cream could be purchased for 1 euro - i don't think i've ever seen ice cream that cheap in my life - and after a quick look at the bridge, and a few of the locks, we started the trek home.

Before I moved to Frankfurt, I was told by quite a few people that it's a rather boring city. After having lived here a few months now, I don't really understand how any city in Germany can be boring if this is considered to be the slowest of them all. And i'm entirely certain that the countless hens and stag parties that parade through Frankfurt would disagree with such critics. On a Saturday night everyone seems to congregate to Sachsenhausen, where the Apfelwein pours freely, cocktails are 5 euros and tequila or jager shots well set you back just 1 a piece.

With bars everywhere, you know it's going to get rowdy from around 9pm on every occasion. The hen and stag parties are brilliant here; they must sell alcohol and sex toys to fund their night out, which leads to even more drunkenness without the cheap drinks on offer.

Meeting up with some friends from the girls nights, one of my new found frankfurt friends was well aware of a karaoke bar up the road that we knew after one too many long island iced teas we had to try. The audience was encouraging, and we spent the rest of the night belting out Bon Jovi and Backstreet Boys songs.

I believe this was us singing Livin' on a Prayer

Considering I have only been here three months, it was a pretty nice way to celebrate a pretend birthday before jetting off to Glastonbury for the real thing, and in stark contrast to my first birthday in London where I didn't feel I had enough friends to have a proper party. It really was the perfect way to spend my birthday in Frankfurt, and a reminder of why I love this city so much.

Till next time xx

A Happy Ending To My Visa Nightmare

I'm a born and bred Australian citizen, and though I have a German surname, we're really not sure where that comes from, as my grandparents are all born in Australia and my father doesn't know very much about his family. As a result of this, I have an Australian passport. And as a result of this, the last six months have been spent in complete limbo, resulting in a complete change of life-plans and being rather broke, even though I'm technically not broke at all, while I've been trying to set up this life. It's been a tough and long six months trying to get a visa that will allow me to work in Europe, and on Monday, when it finally came my way, I wanted to cry, and scream, and ended up eating an entire wheel of camembert and a packet of Trollis to celebrate.

It all started with attempting to get my English visa - I employed an agency to help me as I didn't want to get anything wrong or file incorrect documents. I'd heard the horror stories, and didn't want to be one of them, so I thought I had done everything right. Unfortunately, the agency I picked didn't ask me the right questions, and as a result, the British consulate are currently accusing me of deception and not handing in the right forms because I was apparently trying to hide certain information. With the British immigration system, there's no room to explain yourself, no room for an 'honest mistake' the first time around at least. And in in this one rejection, which they probably thought about for a total of 30 seconds, my life completely fell apart.

For a week I held myself together, and was proud that I cried only once. I was stuck in Australia at the time, with all my stuff back in the UK, unsure if I would even be able to get back in the country to get it out. My ticket home to London passed me by, and as I couldn't get a refund so did about 500 pounds, and as my performance in my job suffered and my boyfriend waited patiently in Germany for news, hope that I would get my life back was dwindling.

But then some came, in the form of a lawyer who (no shit) thinks I have a pretty strong case to appeal what Britain is currently accusing me of. And he told me that I could work in any other country I could get a visa in. A quick call to the German embassy, and suddenly I was moving there for good.

I was faced with two choices: to wait in Australia and apply there or get to Germany straight away and go through the local authorities. Apparently Frankfurt is easy to deal with as it's a big city. For the record, this information is about as correct as saying a Bavarian doesn't drink beer.

Arriving in Germany, I immediately took my application form to the 'Alien Authorities'. It was the wrong one, and I had to go back with the right one in a week. I did this, and was then asked for my 'registration' in broken English. This is one big lesson I have learnt coming here - NEVER assume people in immigration, in a widely English speaking country, speak English. Anyway, turns out when you move to any town in Germany you need to register as a citizen of sorts, and they give you a present to welcome you. With this done, I returned to the Alien place for the third time, to be told I would receive a letter with an appointment.

Three weeks later, my German flatmates took me to the Alien place for a fourth time to find out why I hadn't received a letter. Turned out they could book an appointment for me on the spot, there was no such said letter. The appointment was booked for over a month away. In all this time I've been unable to work, which has driven me crazy on multiple levels. So when the day finally came, on June 10th, I think it was pretty understandable that I didn't sleep a wink before it thinking, and hoping, and getting anxious, and praying to a God I don't really believe in on occasion.

My appointment lasted about 10 minutes. I've been handed a visa for the time my health insurance lasts, allowing me to work for at least 10 months before I can possibly swap to an ongoing work visa, dependent on my health insurance. All of this could have been avoided if I'd waited in Australia for an extra month, but then I would have missed out on the following things: Travelling to Spain to see the football team I own shares in; finally getting to go to Queens Day in Amsterdam with most of my friends in tow; finding this amazing house near the city; seeing Borussia Dortmund play for the first time; and spending that extra month with my boyfriend.

So there's positives to be taken out of every situation right? I wonder if sometimes we use this as an excuse to feel better about situations that have just been rather shitty. Sometimes there's no reason for them, and when I go back to London for Glasto in a couple of weeks, and have to stand in front of immigration while they are rude to me and judge me again and I have to take it, I'll probably feel like this is another pretty needless shitty situation. But if it weren't for all of those problems, I wouldn't be in Germany now, and overall, whether this is some kind of human need to justify the situation or not, I'm pretty bloody happy right now that it worked out like this.

A tip to Aussies wanting to come here in the future? Apply from home, not here. Save your sanity.

xx