...Like having your secret places massaged with soft butter - AA Gill

I have just discovered AA Gill. And like the year I lived in London, it’s a love-hate relationship. Then again, that ‘calling a spade a spade’ mentality is what makes AA Gill’s travel writing so hard to put down…he doesn’t gush.

And he certainly doesn’t adhere to the unsaid rule of most professional travel writers - that as a guest of their subject they must not pack their cynicism with their coconut oil. No, AA Gill says it like he sees it. There’s nothing brochure-like about his work…

‘…Cuba is famous for failed politics, syncopated music, immoral women and cigars, and if an island could be a person, then Cuba would be Bill Clinton.’

Then there’s his day job - the food reviews. The Scottish born writer is one of the most feared food critics in London. So much so that when his travel column ‘AA GILL IS AWAY’ runs in London’s Sunday Times, the city’s top chefs let out a collective garlic-breathed sigh.

In fact, they will soon be able to breathe easy thanks to us, because AA Gill will be jetting off again in May headed for the Sydney Writer’s Festival.

On hearing this news, I purchased the collection of his travel writings published under the same title as they first appeared in the Sunday Times. And I quickly began to fall head over heals for his writing equally as much as I loathed the author, largely thanks to the chapter following the book’s forward titled ‘How it Works’.

Here Gill lays it all out on the table so those, like me, unfamiliar with his writing know exactly what they are in for. Just like the disclaimer above the ticket booth – there will be no refund offered at the end of the tour, even if you don’t see dolphins.

So you ready? Here goes… Gill declares that he travels to a city and interviews it. He asks questions, he listens, looks, lives with it and then makes observations that have come from his eyes only. And he does this all in just two or three days. He refuses to stay any longer in a destination he is writing about to avoid dulling the senses.

‘The more I see the less I know,’ he states. ‘What I write are essentially impressions. I need them to be as vivid and surprising as possible.’

And he doesn’t take notes. Not one. He doesn’t collect brochures, maps or receipts and he certainly doesn’t do any research. Nope. And this next declaration is bound to have university writing lecturers around the world banging their heads against their lecterns in frustration… he waits a few weeks after he has returned home before starting to write.

Arrogance or supreme confidence in his razor sharp sense of recall? Well you decide because he states all of this before you even step foot on his literary tour bus headed North, South, East and West. But from where I am sitting, shaking my head as I angrily thump pages thinking I have been doing everything so wrong, I can almost hear what he is really saying, had his publisher perhaps not stepped in: ‘this is the way I am, this is the way I do it. And if you don’t like it – stop reading. I dare you.’

But wait, he’s not quite finished with the declarations. Here’s the clincher. AA Gill doesn’t read anyone else’s work either. Nope. Because that could potentially be classed as research – gasp!

At least, as I learnt when I finally got to the articles, his self-righteous tone is consistent.

And yet here begins my love affair… his travel writing is truly refreshing. No one seems to view their surroundings quite like AA Gill does. And if they do, they certainly aren’t putting down in black and white…

‘(Japanese) Kabuki theatre is only just preferable to amateur root-canal work. The three stringed guitar is a sad waste of cat….the samurai were thugs in frocks with stupid haircuts, and haiku poems are limericks that don’t make you laugh.’

Nor as witty…

‘It(Grumeti River in Tanzania) is home to turgid pods of hippo and crocodile you could land small planes on. Each big enough to make a set of luggage that world comfortably take Joan Collins on a world cruise.’

His sentences are packed with so many external references - from literature, politics, popular culture – that you sometimes need to sit and absorb each one for a few minutes to fully understand the meaning.

‘Modern Japanese people get born Shinto, married Christian, buried Buddhist and work Mazda. Consequently they believe everything and nothing…. I’ve never come across a place whose spiritual options were so barren. This pick-and-mix theology has stunted Japan like a tonsured, root-bound pine tree.’

Or this…

‘…Konisberg was the capital of Ost Prussia, a sort of Kraut Kosovo, the spiritual home of the Germanic chivalry and bellicosity. It’s also one of those historically buried fault lines, the scars that crisscross old Europe and occasionally ache with an ancient, half-remembered resentment.’

And other times, you’ll find yourself going back over sentences, just to check you read them correctly …

‘All Ethiopians have infinite reserves of charm. Talking to them is like having your secret places softly massaged with warm butter.’

He didn’t? Yes, yes he did. To gloss over AA Gill’s jam-packed sentences is to miss half of the observations, whether they be shocking, insightful or thought provoking. They say as much about AA Gill and his upbringing, education and views, as they do about the places he visits. Another point he is all to happy to admit…

‘I am often being accused of being contentious. I suppose I predictably and rather arrogantly I take that as a compliment. If my articles cause raised blood pressure, then good – that’s what first person journalism in for: we hacks do opposition. But while they may be the start of the argument, they’re never the last word. There is no last word.’

And what I came to admire the most about AA Gill’s writing is the element of surprise. Both in his prose but especially in his observations. He comes to Sydney to see the Opera House and doesn’t get caught up in the world famous architecture but the shockingly large bats flying overhead that are more often than not reduced only to dark blobs in the starry sky of tourist snap shots.

Only AA Gill goes to Milan to cover fashion shows and writes, not about clothing but about a stunningly dressed woman sitting in stilettos in a wheelchair trying to solo navigate her way up the stairs of Prada while the wafer-thin shop assistants look on bemused, not daring to tread a Prada-pumped foot outside to assist.

He sees the forest for the trees alright, but AA Gill writes about the bear crap on the forest floor.

Only AA Gill, while on safari in the Serengeti, would turn his attention away from the ‘teeming animals’ to focus his attention on the normally unnoticed but best-fed beasts of the safari…

‘I could sit and watch honeymooners for hours. They are endlessly fascinating and rewarding. The main reward being that I will never ever have to be one of them again. Africa is a perfect postnuptial ecosystem. It has danger, nature, adventure and the Tiffany of night skies. All the subliminal triggers for a really good ‘Me Tarzan – You Jane’ sex life.’

It is also, only fair to add, that the world renown critic isn’t above praise. He does let his guard down from time to time… well, almost.

‘I wouldn’t normally mention trees in the city, but BA’s (Buenos Aires) are spectacular. Jacarandas, eucalyptus, rubber trees, long, shady avenues in gardens, and it’s very Anglophile, which is always a relief.’

So if surprise is the element of success to Gill’s writing, and I long to be as successful as he, then what’s the shocking observation here? Well having just critiqued the critic, here’s my conclusion formed over three days and without notes…

AA Gill you want people not to like you. The very basis of using ‘AA’ instead of Adrian Anthony may initially have been because it ‘sounds like an aging Florida interior designer who once did Rock Hudson’s pool house out as a tiki-tiki wet bar’, but it conveniently distances the readers from the mysterious author. And I think this is what you thrive off. It’s the basis for your writing. It’s what allows you to make such searing critiques, it permits you to unashamedly scratch beneath the shiny tourist top layer and then sit there and pick the bits out from under your fingernails.

But this is also where you are becoming horribly unstuck. In a landscape riddled with lofty travel writing, overflowing with glowing adjectives you stands all alone, a top the Sydney Opera House covered in bat crap. There isn’t a travel writer so consistently real.

So I hope I can speak for more than just myself, when I say our love-hate relationship is now over.

Surprise AA Gill, we like you.

(AA Gill is currently in town for the Sydney Writers' Festival. I am seeing him talk tonight...can't wait.)

Scandinavia by Segway

Reflections from my visit to Copenhagen in July 2010...

 City tours can be dead boring. Whether it’s onboard those red double-decker ‘hop-on hop-off’ buses circling most major cities or on a group tour with a guide holding a sign or umbrella aloft - tours can make you feel like you’re back in school.

There’s often too many people, not enough time and absolutely no room for adventure. However, there is a futuristic new mode of touring that is gaining popularity around the world and in particular, in the Danish capital of Copenhagen…touring by segway.

Never heard of a segway? Well, neither had I until I signed up for a two-hour city tour and discovered that a segway is an upright, two-wheeled contraption commonly used by security guards in shopping centres and airports due to their manoeuvrability and compact size. They are cheap to run, thanks to the five individual gyroscopes controlling movement, direction and speed, and without an engine, segways are a very green-mode of transport making them ideal in Denmark, a country with a big environmental conscience.

As for sightseeing, they provide a comfortable and easy way to cover a lot of ground in a short amount of time, perfect for taking in a new city.

Now I must admit, I was a bit hesitant to step aboard as it seemed like a lazy option to walking. But once I had my two feet firmly planted on my segway I quickly changed my tune because it takes quite a bit of skill to master the art of segway-ing.

With no steering wheel, buttons, leavers or brakes the segway can be somewhat of a daunting contraption to begin with, but after a few practice laps around the car park it became as easy as, well, walking.

As the guide pointed out, if you ski you’ll be more likely to understand how to control your segway as it is all about balance. A lapse in concentration, or a sneeze, can send you hurtling along.

  

But Copenhagen is well and truly designed for segways. It is a pancake flat city lined with bicycle-ways - so we weren’t limited to where we could go. Cobblestone streets did add a little excitement to the ride but in two-hours we managed to cover over 14 kilometres of the city’s top tourist locations including the colourful canals of Nyhavn and the grandiose Amalienborg Palace - the Danish Royal Family’s winter residence. The palace is every bit as fairytale as imagined and with Princess Mary due to give birth to twins in January, there was a definite buzz to the place.

Of course, no visit to Copenhagen would be complete without a visit to the Little Mermaid. But as we rolled by the site you’d normally find the iconic statue we were disappointed to find a movie screen jutting out of the rocks streaming live images of the Little Mermaid in China, where she herself was touring.

As far as city tours go, sightseeing by segway is fun. Not once did I feel rushed or like I was being herded around like one of the flock. And thanks to an audio piece in the helmet, the guide was continuously feeding us information about all the places we glided by. He even accommodated the group’s many photographic urges, plus a few sudden deviations from the planned route to check out something of interest.

But despite it’s popularity, touring by segway is still a relatively new sight to the Danish landscape and I was consistently reminded of this by the stares, points and even photographs taken by surprised onlookers on the Stroget. In the ultimate case of irony, the tourists had become the attraction!

The only complaint I had was when the tour ended and I finally stepped off the segway back on solid ground. My ankles ached and walking had never seemed so slow.

(Plans for South America 2013 are under way. In the meantime, I am catching up on my adventures over the past few years. I hope you enjoy heading down memory lane with me...by segway!)

Remember me...?

Most of my exciting trips have started at the end. The end of long-term relationship that hurt to stay as much as it hurt to first walk away. Resigning from a job I loved because I worked for a man I hated. The completion of the snow season which sent me in search of sunshine and far, far away from Italian ski instructors and flaming shots of butterscotch schnapps.

You have to close one door before you can fully open another. A cliché yes, but a familiar pattern in my life.

So when I recently decided to go backpacking through South America, with no great trail of destruction and unhappy endings behind me, I wondered whether I had broken the cycle. I was ready to start off on an adventure without packing the emotional baggage. Without the desire to prove I was a strong and independent female. Without looking to replace some long lasting disaster in my life with some short lived joy, or brown-eyed backpacker.

I was in a happy place. So hang on, why did I want to leave my perfect bubble and venture out in to the big bad world again?

Because travel is not the quick fix to life’s little dramas nor is it the somewhat expensive self-help therapy required to put your life back on a more wholesome, spiritual track. Travel is what I do.  And I don’t need an excuse to justify my next big trip. Sure I had some beauties in the past – but were they just a damn good, if not convenient excuse?

Wow…did I really just make that observation? That was heavy.

So anyway, here begins the next phase of the 'blonde with the backpack'. Four years on from my last entry and not much has changed. Yes I am now 28. Yes I have a mortgage. And yes, I have found my best friend in life who I am now engaged to and subsequently, has become my new travel companion too. But it doesn’t mean I have forgotten my old travel buddies either.

Bertha the backpack may be a little dusty and even a tad mouldy on the straps, but she has never once let me down and while I am still fit enough to throw her on my shoulders, I am not trading her in for a Samsonite hard-shell suitcase on swivel wheels. As fashionable as that does sound!

In fact, I hope that as long as I live I will always be plagued with the never ending dilemma of trying to haul my overstuffed pack on to my back as I travel through some of the most amazing moments of my life. That’s what makes travel so rewarding, the struggle, the lessons learned along the way, the mistakes made that hopefully haven’t cost you too much money or dignity.

But this time it’s different. This time, I am kicking it off with a fresh start and the end, I hope, is nowhere in sight. Let the journey begin!

Under the sea - diving in Mauritius

As promised, this entry is dedicated to my amazing experience diving in Mauritius.

Diving is one of those things that you either love doing, have always wanted to do but never got around to getting your flippers on and sitting the course, or have no inkling whatsoever to do even if somebody paid you! Up until two weeks ago I fell into the second category (I still have the brochures next to my bed to prove it!), so seized the chance to do my PADI Open Water diving course on my second week in Mauritius, visiting my Dad who is living and working on this island paradise.

The course took four days and I instilled (my gorgeous, very calm and patient instructor) Brian with my complete trust. A very rare thing for me to do but I was out of my depths, excuse the lame pun!

So on day one, after a quick rundown of the equipment, it was into the pool for some basic training. The best part was having to walk through the lobby of the hotel scarying the Italian tourists who the majority of, as I later found out, would rather die than go swimming in the ocean letting the 'fish touch them'. And this was coming from a good looking guy, about my age covered in tattoos. Boy, did he soundly seem so unattractive!

So out into the ocean we went. Our first dive was a wreck dive but I am buggered if I noticed or enjoyed my surroundings. I was so busy focusing on breathing and what I was doing that i may aswell still been in the pool. But I must confess, after 15 minutes I did the signal that I wanted to surface - and we did. I wasn't freaking out but was short of breath. We got the to top and I was like, right I am ready to go stright back down, much to Brian's shock!

I guess my reason was that I just needed to know I could safely surface and get out of there if I had to or even needed to. And well, I now knew I could. Go on - call me a control freak!

So after that it was amazing and by my third open water dive to 18m for over 40minutes I had completely forgotten I was underwater and was just loving swimming with all of the amazing fish. Brian realised he could now have fun with me and on one of my levitating excuses decide to position me over a live lobster on the ocean floor - unbeknownst to me - until he pointed and I looked down at this poor creature freaking out just 20cm away from my thigh. I had a great dinner that night - lobster! No, not that one but obviously a close relative.

The hardest part to getting my lisence was the theory side. I had decided to do the course in 4 days so had a lot of reading to do, before sitting the test on my last day. What I found was the more reading I did, the better I understod the situation and my equipment and the more at ease I was. I passed the test despite horrible flashbacks to high school mathematics when it was time to complete the dive table section and am now a qualified diver. Man I love being able to say that!

Diving in Mauritius is relatively affordable and my course cost around AUD$450 which is over half the cost of what it would have been at home in Australia. The only major downfall is that most instructors speak French so you must find an English speaking dive centre for when hand signals just won't do. So now I need a dive buddy to continue my underwater exploration in my own backyard now that I am (sadly) back on home soil.

Simone x

Snow one day, sunshine and surf the next

The 2007 snow season has officially come to a close, but not without drama of course. On the final days, we had 20cm of snow fall, not only keeping most resorts open for business for another two weeks but also nearly forcing me to dig my way out before driving home to Sydney after 4 amazing, fun and hard working months!

So, after two days at home, I unloaded my winter gear from Bertha the backpack and then reloaded her with my summer gear, leaving a wake of clothing mayhem behind me. It was off to Mauritius to visit my family who are living/working there at the moment and to defrost.

I had such a fabulous trip that I am going to have to break all my adventures down into a few blog entries as there is too much to write and too many gorgeous pictures to show.

But for those of you not familiar with Mauritius, it's a small Island off the coast of East Africa, not far from Madagascar. There is a large French/Mauritian population as well as Indian population now too, asthey were originally brought over to help with the sugar can crops, Mauritius' main export.

So stay tuned for my next blog on scub a diving in paradise....

Sim x

Gone fishin'

Who says fishing is just for boys? Not me - at least not after going for a fly fishing casting lesson! My boss thought it would be a good idea to write an article on girls going fishing so - guess who wound up (excuse the pun), ankle deep in womabt crap and sitting on an ants nest on the banks of the Thredbo River. Yep, moi!

But much to my shock and horror, I had a great time. Fly fishing is quite an art and actually requires some skill, unlike normal fishing which requires only patience and a good book in my opinion. Plus, there's a crafty element which is right up my alley and involves making your own flies using animal hair, feathers and whatever materials you dig up from Lincraft. Now this is my kind of sport!

My teacher, the very patient Haig, told me that girls generally make good students because we listen as opposed to boys who just want to cast the bloody thing as far as they can. And well, in no time I was on the village green casting like a pro and the old pitching arm from my softball days came in handy, once again!

Unfortunately, all I caught was a twig. And don't scoff - it was a pretty decent sized twigs as far as twigs go but I threw it back because it's all about catch and release! Wouldn't have tasted too great either!

But seriously, the fishing season doesn't officially open until this weekend so it is illegal to fish in the National Parks before then. So for the next few days I guess it will be back to the village green, practicing my technique. Hmmm... maybe today I might catch a frisbee or a small child?! x

Quarter of a Century and Not Out!

Last Saturday I turned the ripe ol' age of 25! As per usual, it just meant another excuse to go out and party - drinking far too much and dressing like I don't own a mirror!

It just so happened to be Fiona's birthday 3 days later (we are 3 years and 3 days apart) and so we had a combined retro 80s ski wear party since we are both 80s babies, at karaoke. And let's just say that when we arrived the bar it was packed but after just 2 songs, there weren't many people left! Gotta love how you sound like Whitney Houston after 2 drinks - or is that just me? We rocked the casbah, watched in awe as here came the hot stepper and remembered the summer of '69. It was all class, all the time.

We had an absolute blast - which was the main thing. With the gorgeous Helen and Lauren coming up from Sydney just for the party - thanks guys. Hels, you did that bib and brace proud and Loz, no one will ever do justice to those tight, flouro lycra tights like you did! Amen for St Vinnies!

And a special thanks to Fifi, who I know will be reading this because as she confessed, she loves reading about what she gets up to on my blog. The treasure hunt in the morning was gorgeous - thank you fo making my day and night super special.

OK, back to the embarrassing stories. So I have had many flashbacks of what happened that night, ranging from mounting the bar with the microphone to serenade the guy behind the bar (cringe) and running through Thredbo village (fully dressed) saying 'we are all going streaking, to the quad - come with!'. Oh, too funny. Lucky I am leaving this village soon!

Sim x

Shagwell by name, shag very well by reputation

So my latest batch of incriminating photos come from Monday night when it was the lifties party. It was fancy dress and my old flatmates invited Fiona and I. Scooter went as Austin Powers (he makes a great Austin!) and so I went as Felicity Shagwell just in case you can’t figure it out from the pics – ha! It was cheap and easy – OK.

So Fiona, at the 11th hour decided to go as cat woman much to Luke’s horror who had hoped she would tramp it up and be his Bond girl. But I think she looked puuurrr-fect if trampy enough in her fire engine red lipstick!
So people went to a lot of effort for the party, one guy going as Borat in the green man-kini. He pulled it off well, we thought at first. But on closer inspection at the bar he had a very pimpley bum! ‘You - not so good!’

It was a sit down dinner but well, Fi and I managed to get food poisoning. And no, it wasn’t alcohol induced! We only had a few drinks as we were still recovering from our HUGE Saturday night two days before.

And I know I seem to always say what a huge night I had, but they seem to, somehow, be getting bigger and bigger as the season comes to a close. Thank goodness there is only 2 weeks left – I don’t think I can take anymore partying.

I never thought I would say that!

Sim x

Over & Out - but not without drama!

I just completed my last TV report for the season which will air on Sports Tonight, tonight. There is now on 2 weeks left of the ski season, with everything wrapping on the October long weekend! Time has absolutely flown by!

Anyway (before I get all teary), in typical Simone style even my last TV report was full of drama! Our tripod carrier/camera assistant called in sick today so they got one of the ski instructors to fill in, since there seems to be alot of them and not many punters today. So out of the hoardes of instructors, who did they get? The Italian stallion I was 'kind of seeing' who got angry at me last weekend and we had a fight and I walked off and had a great night (i.e. read between the lines... met someone else). So anyway, I hadn't spoken to him since then and today he has to stand next to me and watch my report, throw snowballs at me for the report and be on panda eye alert (why didn't I wear waterproof mascara today?). Typical! It was awkward beyond belief!

Attached is a gorgeous pic our resort photographer got ealrier this week. It's a stunner and I had to share it with you.

So, I guess for the last time... "This is Simone Smith with the latest snow report."
xx

The past can be haunting...

It's been one of those weeks where the past has been catching up with me!
It all started when, on facebook - the website I love and hate simultaneously yet can't seem to get off - I recieved an e-mail from 'The X'. It had been a blissful two-years and well, it was a shock to say the least to see his picture and name pop up in my inbox.
And then today, I recieved a message from a friend saying: Oh man, oh man Sim. Go to www.news.com.au . Which of course I then did, only to see that picture of me with my blow up kangaroo taken by a photographer when I was in Germany at the World Cup last year flash on screen next to a story on the 'Aussie Cultural Cringe - Loud and Proud!' Wow - I am now the unofficial poster girl for cultural cringeing the world over.
That damn photo has haunted me for a year now, running four times (that I know of), in The Times, the London paper twice and once in the SMH and now this. Actually, one of them is quite a funny story.... I had just started work at the Arts Council England when I was working in London, 3 weeks after returning from Germany. My first job on day one was to go through the paper and cut out cultural clippings. So pretending I was a civilized, arts-savvy Aussie (trying to shake all convict stereotypes the poms like to mutter at us whilst looking down their nose), I opened the newspaper to see this same picture staring back at me! I screamed and of course my new employer asked if I was OK and despite my efforts to prevent her from coming over and assuring her it was nothing, she came over to see what was wrong and she couldn't help but laugh at the pic of me with the blow up roo - musttering as she looked down her nose at me! Damn it!
Then, since things always happen in threes, I went to work drinks last week and ran into a guy up at the bar who I had snogged when I was 17. It was very random to bump into him 8 years later and when i got back to the table I relayed this story back to the people at my table, not realising that he was actually part of the table - dating the girl sitting one chair up from me! It was a big table, OK!!! When will I learn to keep my mouth shut?
So, hopefully all of my skeletons are out of the closet for now - I don't think I can handle anymore surprises, just yet.
Lots of love,
Sim x

Home Sweet Home

I am sure everyone will agree with me that moving house sucks - well, I have now done it twice in one week. Well, I did it once and then poor Fiona and Marty had to pack up all my stuff and do it the second time when i was back in Sydney! If you are reading this owe you guys, BIG TIME!
Now, the first move was from Royal Bogong Number 4, out of the room I had shared with the snoronator for 3 months into a room nextdoor with Fiona. My first night I had a wonderful, sound sleep but the second night we had a visitor who entered the room when we where dead to the world and let's just say, he made himself at home! This was one of the other flatmates who was, well, completely out of it! As this was the second time this had apparently happened to poor Fi, it was now time to get out of this place.
So now I am happy to announce Fiona and I have our very own, one bedroom place which is completely free of snoring and pant dropping flatmates!
Last night we cooked dinner in our CLEAN kitchen and even made dessert - it was bliss. Unfortunately, the eggplant we were using was off so we found other things to do with it!
Sim x

ALL NIGHT LONG...

OK, so I have hit an all time low. After an awesome, relaxing weekend in Sydney seeing the family and my gorgeous friends I headed back to the hills fully recharged. So what did I do - I had an all nighter - going straight to work at 5.30am without having a single zzzzzz. OK, so i think I actually passed out for 10minutes before my alarm went off.

You see, it was the final of the Australian Freeride Series and the comp was at night, under the big lights with the hip hop act The Herd playing on the slopes straight afterwards. They were awesome and we had a great night. Then it was straight to The Keller night club for far too many drinks (yep, it was a liquid dinner). As you can see from the pics, it all got a bit loose in no time at all. As for the headband - don't even ask.

It was an incredibly fun night though - with the whole village out celebrating and with not long to go until the end of the season, everyone was out in force to end the season in style - or lack of style for some!

So the next day, as I sat in the office all alone pumping out radio and written reports I was feeling very sorry for myself. Very, very sorry for myself. I then proceeded to have 3 peices of cold pizza for breakfast, a breakfast burger at about 9am and then a kebab for lunch. Yes, my head was hung in shame all day. Oh, and did I mention potato gems at 4am!? My stomach is churning just thinking about all of this.

Needless to say, I slept soundly for 16 hours that night! And it's off to the gym tonight to try and redeem myself and get my body back on my side again.

Lots of Love,

Sim x

Total Eclipse of the Heart

I am slightly slow in getting this entry up, but last week we had a lunar eclipse. This photo doesn't really do it justice because the moon actually was a peach/pink colour for most of the eclipse and it was just beautiful but it gives you an idea nontheless.

I love looking at the moon at the best of times, but this was simply wonderful to witness. And what was even nicer, was seeing everyone brave the cold and stand outside in groups with drinks in hand, watching the eclipse. It was very cool.

So, I am terribly excited to be flying home to Sydney tonight. I haven't been home (or further away from here than Cooma) , for the last three-and-half months and am seriously craving some big city action. Of course, I am flying back for the APEC weekend chaos which is just typical and is foiling my plans of a dose of city night life on Friday night. But I am sure it will be great still and I can't wait to see my gorgeous puppy, my family and my friends (in no particular order - ha!).

But on the APEC note, check out the latest in the series of advertisements for here. It is very timely and very funny. It's good to know I am not the only one enjoying the slopes at the moment! Check it out and you will see what I mean...

http://www.thredbo.com.au/about/Bush-Pulls-Another-Snow-Job.asp

Lost of Love,
Sim x

My Best Blue Steele

So, I have only just stopped (somewhat embarrassedly) laughing after my last achievement award on the snow. So this blog is to help my bruised ego and tell you about my first official - modelling assignment.

I have attached a few pics of Fiona and our friend Gianluca (a ski instructor from Italy) doing our very best to drink cocktails and eat meals as naturally as possible without wondering where on earth these pics may turn up and haunt me down the track, and do I have a double chin from that angle. And might I add, the food was stone cold and the drinks, non-alcoholic. What tight-ass'!

So I guess if all else fails in my ski racing career, I can become a Big W catalogue model, well maybe! Gosh, the things Fiona and I will do for a free meal.

Look out for us in a ski resort catalogue direct to you next season.

Sim x

I WON... well kind of!

Oh, I am still laughing and it's three days later but I actually won at the staff ski race I wrote about in my last blog. Well, when I say won I don't mean the event, nor my age group (as originally thought!), no, no I won the... wait for it... encouragement award!

In other words, nice try but man you sucked! I checked my time and I turned out to be in the middle of the field but I think the fact that on the day I stood at the top of the course freaking out, asking everyone around me what I am meant to do and how am i meant to do it may have assisted in the award - I was clearly a first timer! Although, I reckon the red headband saying 'feelin it' and the hot pink one piece ski suit didn't hurt either.

But wait, it gets better. Do you know what I actually won? A day's ski hire so I can actually learn to ski properly. Oh, I have never laughed so hard in my laugh. This is one award going striaght to the pool room.

I always thought I was special, but not in the 'special friend' way! Oh well, there's always next year.

Love,

'Slow and Steady Smith' xx

I've got a carrot in my facsinator... darlingk!

So today was the annual staff memorial day ski race. Now I will admit it, I am not a fabulous skier and even after 3 months down here I am no where near hot dogging it down the slopes just yet. But my boss convinced me to go in today's race which is more of a laugh then anything, but still involves going down a ski course (the Rosi Racecourse) one at time, through 12 gates with everyone watching. How it works is that you do the course twice and you have to try and do it in the same time. You are in a team of 2, and so the difference in your two runs are added together to get your final score. This is my kind of race - they don't call me slow and steady smith for nothing!

I went with Haig, our wonderful sticks/tripod carrier who is a fanatstic skier. And when I say went, I mean I entered him and I last night at 4.55pm (the shut off for entry forms was 5pm) and told him this morning. His reaction was - we don't have to actually ski together do we?! After from being completely offended, i laughed and then told him he had to wear a dress too in the 'racing theme'. Me on the otherhand, resurrected the old hot pink one piece and added a fascinator to the outfit. The funniest part was that I made it down the run safely and poor old Haig stacked it - so I don't think I will be drinking from the cup tonight!

So the results still aren't in just yet, but I am not holding my breath. But as you can see from the pics it was a really fun day with everyone dressing up and the Ouzo was flowing straight from the bottle to the lips at the starting line!

Sim x

Cabin Fever – CURED!

So after moaning about suffering from a severe case of cabin fever after being in the village, living on top of people 24/7 for 3 months, I finally escaped and feel 1,000% better. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I don’t love this place because I absolutely do but when you know every person you pass on the street, including their family lineage, then it becomes a bit much. Beside, my house has turned into a junkyard thanks to the two lifties and ski patroller I live with. I now refer to it as the 'bog of eternal stench'. But I can’t get into just how bad it is just now as I might cry and spiral back into my bout of cabin fever.

So when I escaped, I jumped in the car and drove to Canberra. Who thought Canberra would be an oasis of entertainment and a shopping mecca. How my perspectives have changed! I briefly saw my Mum who was taking her class to Questacon and then I shopped until I literally dropped, mostly due to being weighted down by bags and credit card receipts! What can I say, I had three months shopping down time to catch up on.

Then it was back to my gorgeous hotel room (courtesy of my boss who had been witnessing my downwards spiral due to lack of sleep and household hygiene) and after swan diving onto my big queen bed like a true princess, I ordered room service and watched TV (something I hadn’t done in ages) and ate my citrus cheese cake whilst painting my toe nails. It will go down in history as the best, most self-indulgent day I have had all year.

The next day, after doing the walk of shame by myself to the breakfast buffet – ALONE – I met up with my gorgeous Aunt who drove down to see me and had lunch and another round of shopping.

So am back now, staring out at the slopes, feel like my old self again. And the best news… I am moving into the flat next-door with the stunning Fifi my partner in crime in absolutely everything in a few nights. Amen, the accommodation god hasn’t forgotten me after all!

Sim x

Reliving the World Cup – Germany 2006

True to her word, the darling Michelle posted the pics of our beloved blow up Roo who fearlessly followed us around Munich for our World Cup antics (R.I.P.), on facebook following the recent spotting of my roo’s relative on the slopes here in Thredbo the other day. So, I thought I should share these with you because he was one of the best travel companions I have had, he didn’t whinge once and was always pumped for a good time (OK, lame joke alert!).

This Roo knew how to have a good time, and sure he may have drunk too much at the Australia vs. Brazil game but he bounced back (lame joke two, one more and I will quit writing altogether, I promise). And then he was there with a broom, ready to right his wrongs. But unfortunately, all good things must come to an end and he became more than a little deflated when Australia didn’t make it past those nasty, cheating Italians (OK – I am out).

So rest in peace Roo – Shell, Ray and I will never forget you.
Sim xxx

Famous Faces from the Slopes

Just a quick one today, but I have had numerous celebrity sightings on the slopes lately which I thought I should share with you. The first is the gorgeous, Sally Stanton from Saturday Disney who I have had the pleasure to work with in the past. Sally is former snow reporter herself and was so lovely in sharing all her best kept secrets about what to expect down here before I, rather hesitantly, packed my bags and headed for the hills in May this year (wow – has it really been that long?!).

Now, yesterday I walked past Andrew O’Keefe of Deal or No Deal fame in the village but my highlight would have to be when Charlie from Hi-5 skied up to me when I was doing a report up at Karel’s to say she always watches my reports before skiing straight off again! By the time I realised who it was she was gone, but I was chuffed nonetheless.

Now I also have to mention spotting Cate Blanchett at Thredboland last week, dropping her kids off before hitting the slopes herself. I just adore Cate and can’t believe how stunning she looked, even with a beanie on and sans make-up. It’s just not fair! Unfortunately, my inner groupie was suppressed long enough to prevent me from running up, gushing about how much I admire her and asking for a photo and makign a right idiot of myself.

So that’s all my celebrity spotting for now. Stay tuned for more stars of the slopes.

Sim x

Rip Curl Pro Freeride Comp

I have just a had a few big days at work covering the Rip Curl Pro Freeride Comp here in Thredbo. Despite the crap weather, and I mean crap (which is bad coming from the keyboard fo a snow reporter), the event was a 'great success' and with $25,000 worth of cash and prizes there was huge international and local interest with the likes of Andy Finch, Chris Booth, Andrea Berchtold and Russ Holt competing - not that I knew who they were.

But all SERIOUSNESS aside, I was left to report on an event I knew very little about so I did some 'research' and 2 minutes before the comp plonked down in the snow next to a bunch of boarders to pick their brains about what the hell a sitchback 9 was? After a crash course in freeride and slopestyle moves I was starting to question my sources... 'was there really a move called the truck driver? And was I prepared to say that on national and cable TV and try and sound convincing?'.

My answer came (as a big fat no), when I was told one of the riders just pulled off a 'PHat Kanga-Wallaby something, something'. Yep, this was never going to work - these guys were clearly having a lend! So I decided to join in and inspired by Roy and HG's 'battered sav' commentary of the Olympic gymnastics I decided to make up my own, so next season look out for the 'Greasy DimSim Reverse 9'!

So two days later and many reports later I am much more informed in the art of slopestyle and freeride and can pick a fake trick name from a mile away. Yep, who said blondes weren't SMRT?!

So there were some pretty cool tricks to come out of the event and a whole heap of drinking to happen afetrwards. I am still recovering - seriously. My other lesson learnt was that if anyone offers you a shot of Glecier Ice, walk... nay run... far, far away preferably in a 'Backside Pluto-pup Tuck' position.

Lots of Love,

Simone x