Memoirs of a Martini: Best Cocktails in Nottingham

A Nottingham sunrise

Back from my holiday to Australia and a house move on the cards I was feeling decidedly more settled into the city. So settled in fact I was even considering purchasing some kitchenware (new coffee machine..swoon). Moving around a lot is a double-edged sword, itchy feet and the thrill of new experience is tempting but the downside is that I am never able to really settle somewhere.

Things were changing and Nottingham was looking and feeling a little more like home. To celebrate the heady joy of standing still for once I have upped my tour of the city. So this series of posts starts with the best cocktails in town (it's tough research but someone has got to do it).

Browns

20 Park Row, Nottingham NG1 6GR

http://www.browns-restaurants.co.uk/locations/nottingham/

Berry martini and a cosmo

Our tour starts at the newly opened and rather fancy Browns. My fellow food lover and office mate HS suggested some Sunday afternoon cocktails and one thing led to another and before we knew it we were enrolling in their loyalty program and telling all that would listen about the joy of their booze.

The great thing about Browns is that their signature delights are only £3.95 after 4pm from Sunday-Wednesday. How could we resist. Purely for research purposes we tried a multitude but we can highly recommend the cosmopolitan (complete with lit orange zest) and the berry and pomegranate martini. Our Greek companion NC loved the rum based vanilla daiquiri and the marinaded olives. If you want to soak up your straight booze a little more the flat breads adorned with chorizo and prosciutto are a tasty and cheesy snack.

Flatbread joy

The bar staff are really friendly and we even had an impromptu martini making session. If you are lucky enough to snag a table in their dining room the mains are a very reasonable price. However, be warned, this place is flavour of the month and perpetually packed full of beautiful people with pearls, nice neat beards and fancy jackets (not all at once, that would just be weird) so get there early.

Tilt

Upstairs, 9 Pelham Street, Nottingham

http://tiltbar.co.uk/

Tilt seems like an old friend to me now, the type of friend that always insists on getting me drunk.

It was love at first sight, I was mainly attracted to it's cosy loft, smiley staff and promise of good liquor and live blues. What could be better than that? The cocktails are great, a favourite of mine being Gin Garden which is adorned with cucumber and elderflower cordial. Refreshing and delicious.

I have hazy memories of sampling their rum cocktails, although I do believe that the such incident culminated in me falling asleep next to a carton of cheese, chips and garlic sauce in front of Snog, Marry, Avoid.

You can take the girl out of Wales....

The Living Room

7 High Pavement, The Lace Market

http://www.thelivingroom.co.uk/location/nottingham

I have mixed feelings about The Living Room, I'm not usually a fan of chain places but the setting of this place is something special. Set in the heart of the Lace Market just off a little cobble stoned walkway and opposite my favourite Saturday night hang out Nottingham Contemporary it's a convenient place for some decent food and a great cocktail.

I've visited The Living Room on a number of occasions from early in the evening to a quiet Sunday night to a bustling Saturday. Saturday it all gets a bit packed and stressful but early Friday night is the best time to nab a table, not have to queue for the bar and enjoy some live piano music. I always love a grand piano when I'm out and about. Maybe it's because I secretly want to be in Ally McBeal, without the anorexia and hallucinations.

A special living room cocktail treat is their apple pie martini, concentrated appley alcoholic goodness topped with real double cream. It's rather decadent and worryingly tastes totally non-alcoholic. Hiccup...bar tender pass me the custard.

Tonic
6b Chapel Quarter, Chapel Bar Nottingham
http://www.tonic-online.co.uk/

Tonic is another one of those places that I love to hate, I love the nice food, the fancy table service and importantly the cocktail menu but a little piece of  my heart does belong to the more quirky independent places. That aside, Tonic does make a damn good Grey Goose martini.

Oh they also do food too, good food. Like this, rare fillet steak with a rich jus, marrow garlic kiev and dauphinoise stack.

Remnants of a martini

 As you can see the martini was demolished way before this arrived. Can I have another? Shaken..not stirred and some more dauphinoise please.

A Birthday in Orange

A wonderful part of my Australian holiday was a birthday trip to see the beautiful VC in her new temporary home. A mere 3 hours drive away, Orange is blessed with a plethora of gorgeous wineries, cafes and one very fancy French restaurant. In the spirit of birthdays and being all together again we decided to indulge in them all.

TES, SS and I left Sunny Sydney with a bag full of Bourke Street Bakery goodies and an ipod full of classic tunes (let's all meet up in the year 2000!) and set off for our first destination, Mayfield Vineyard.

Mayfield Vineyard
Icely Road, Orange NSW 2800
http://www.mayfieldvineyard.com/

We trundled into Orange at dusk to our welcoming cottage the House of Pears. The cottage was stunningly beautiful and completely white set on the backdrop of endless vines and some very friendly geese. One of the many reasons I love my friends is that they always know how to put on the most delicious bounties of food. This night was no exception.

We collated our various foodie efforts, Sonoma bread bought previously from Sydney, a selection of local cheeses from Orange. Salted butter, perfectly fresh salmon and huge bitey Sicilian olives from the local deli washed down with a lot of champagne and culminating in some obligatory tipsy Magnetic Zeros dancing. A wonderful evening.

Phillip Shaw Vineyard
45 Caldwell Lane, Orange NSW
http://www.philipshaw.com.au/about.htm

Not a bad view

Our morning began at Byng Street Cafe for some top notch coffee and baked treats as we lined our stomachs for the wine tasting ahead. High on the agenda was a trip to Phillip Shaw Winery, known far and wide in these parts as one of the best vineyards in town.

What I love about wine tasting, apart from the free wine, is chatting to the makers and finding out loads of detail that you wouldn't normally get from simply ordering a bottle in a restaurant. We chatted to the owners about the psychedelic bottle design, the perfect cheese accompaniment and other local vineyards that were worth a visit.

The decor of Phillip Shaw is incredible, set in their huge kitchen with a sleepy dog lazing around we felt as though we had been invited over a friends house for an afternoon drinking session. To mark V's birthday the wine maker himself came out with a tray of homemade hot pasties and a big dollop of tomato sauce. Mmmm tasted just like home.

Lolli Redini
48 Sale Street, Orange NSW 2800
http://www.lolliredini.com.au/

With a little wobble in our step we retired back to the cottage to greet V's surprise guests and open a few special bottles of wine that we had purchased on our tour. It was now time to get ready for the pinnacle of our visit. A trip to Lolli Redini.

One of the many things I love about Australia is their multiple hatted restaurants that also happen to be pretty affordable. At $80 for their set menu this still to me represents a special treat but not one that will set you back your life savings when you compare UK places of comparable quality in London. Lolli Redini was renowned for being the best restaurant in town and also French, my favourite. I was extremely excited.

We were all seated on a lovely long table and began selecting our three courses. I just could not stay away from the house signature goats cheese souffle set off with a delicate celeriac and apple salad. Without hyperbole this was one of the most amazing mouthfuls of food I have ever had.

I would sell my soul for this souffle

For second course I selected the veal which was served medium rare with a beautiful pile of sauteed mushrooms and cabbage. How they got the mushrooms so tasty I will never know but I suspect a lot of butter was involved. My Italian friend MC indulged my suggestion to share a big scoopful of truffle mash which was like sex on a spoon (forgive my vulgarity).

Far from being taboo these days eating good quality and well sourced veal is actually encouraged, good old Jamie Oliver often suggests veal as an alternative option. Thanks to humane farming practises in good places I can sleep well at night knowing that my animal was not unfairly treated. For the vegetarians among us, my friend ordered squash with shards of salty Parmesan and a sprinkle of pine nuts. It looked and tasted delicious.

Delicious veggie option

In a rare twist my dessert was not that favourable, I selected figs three ways which included a fig mousse, fig ice cream and fresh fig with honey and toffee. It was a little rich and creamy and didn't offer enough textural difference. We chatted to the chef about it and he told us about the inclusion of truffle oil into the mousse which is not to every body's taste. I spotted my friend SS's passion fruit souffle and had food envy. We decided to drink local opting only for wine from the local vineyards. We started with a bottle of Phillip Shaw's fizz that we had sampled earlier and some beautiful mellow Merlot and crisp Chardonnay.

Souffle envy

It was the perfect end to a perfect birthday. As the sun set and I had to undo my belt 3 notches I felt warm and fuzzy and overwhelmingly lucky to be in such a beautiful location, eating such incredible food with such amazing kind people.

With a lump in my throat saying goodbye for now to a wonderful friend it was time to leave. Goodbye Orange, it was lovely to meet you.

48 hours in Melbourne

I decided at the last minute to weave a trip to Melbourne into my Australian break. Partly to see friends and partly to break out my black clothes and find some new hidden cocktail bars. The best thing about having lived to the full for a year in a city is that when you return you have a comprehensive list of your favourite people and places you just have to visit and experience.

With that in mind I was staying in my old apartment with wonderful old housemate PW. We spent the first night in Fratellinos, our local pizzeria which is perpetually packed, incredibly authentic, cheap and BYO. In the haze of catching up, chatting and drinking Penfolds no photographic evidence was taken. But suffice to say if you happen to be on Malvern Road anytime soon swing by for their garlic and spicy sausage pizza, a steal at 9 bucks. You won't regret it.

Breakfast at Hobba
428 Malvern Road, Prahran
(03) 9510 8336

The next morning I decided to torture myself and visit Hobba for breakfast. This is torture because Hobba coffee is amazing and this place, situated two minutes from my old apartment, only opened a week before I left. Hobba ticks all the Melbourne boxes it is a) in a warehouse b) has exposed brick c) serves single origin coffee. The new 3rd wave coffee movement in Melbourne is something you should slip into conversation if you want to impress a Melbournian. I'm still not entirely sure what it is but it tastes amazing! 

With a belly full of fried egg, brown butter hollandaise, bubble and squeak, slow roast tomato and farmhouse slab bacon I decided to start my action packed day re-uniting myself with Melbourne.

Coffee at De Clieu

187 Gertrude Street Fitzroy VIC 3065, Australia

(03) 9416 4661

The rest of my day was planned out by my favourite Gaga loving and delightfully droll amateur food critic RF. I had an hour to kill before we met so I decided to take a wander around my old stomping ground, Fitzroy.

I was already in caffeine withdrawal so a trip to De Clieu was most definitely on the cards. If you look past the painful coolness of this place the coffee is truly something amazing as are the delicious breakfasts. My favourite being the De Clieu special of cheese, ham, soft boiled egg, fresh sourdough, butter, a cold drip coffee and a pot of jam all for $15. Amazing.

Huxtaburger

106 Smith Street, Collingwood

http://www.huxtaburger.com.au/

With my stomach full of numerous cups of amazing coffee it was time for my long awaited catch up with R! We decided to begin our reunion day at Huxtaburger.

Huxtaburger is a new tiny hole in the wall on Smith Street that serves a variety of cold beers and some seriously hot meat. We grabbed a Brooklyn beer and sat in the sun enjoying the shiny bun, perfect cheese and tangy mustard. It was utter perfection

Drinking the best cocktail in the world at Cabinet
11 Rainbow Alley, Melbourne
http://www.cabinetbar.com.au/

Dumping our bags we decided to do what we do best and get a cocktail. Jumping on the 112 down Collins into the city there was only one place on the radar...Cabinet. Cabinet is home to my favourite drink of all time their signature gingerbread martini.

We chatted to the lovably camp owner Al about it's pure genius, the salt and pepper, the gingerbread sugar surrounding the outside. He said that they had all tried really hard to top it but never succeeded. We agreed. This was worth the airfare alone.

Fuelled by sugar we roamed the city for another snack, as we strolled past Flinders Lane an idea emerged. Chin Chin..of course! As with all Melbourne restaurant fads, Chin Chin didn't just open, it exploded. Lovable Masterchef judge Matt Preston claims to cross town for just one serve of the Son in Law eggs and rumour has it that it's impossible to get a table, no matter what night of the week. Well it would be rude not to give it a go!

Chin Chin
125 Flinders Lane, Melbourne VIC

We arrived at 5pm and amazingly it was relatively quiet so we easily grabbed a table for two. Within 15 minutes of being seated the place began to fill up with queues upon queues of hungry city types standing at the door. By 5:30pm the place was positively heaving, and all on a Tuesday, Melbourne never fails to amaze me. As we weren't starving and not really in the mood for spontaneously having a $200 meal we decided to share some small serves and shockingly no alcohol to keep the bill down. RF informed me firmly that we HAD to have the Son in Law eggs and two serves because 'he's not sharing'. Oh R how I have missed you.

Son in Law Eggs

To compliment our orgasmic eggs we chose beef roti with dipping sauce and salt and pepper squid with Vietnamese mint and the chunkiest and most delectable lemon wedge I have ever seen.

As expected, each dish was executed perfectly. Far from tasting like a fishy inner wheel tube like is served at a popular UK tapas chain that will remain nameless, this squid was tender, salty and complimented perfectly by a handful of the mint. The roti was spicy and the delicate dip added a chilli tang. As we left we took a detour to the bar downstairs that by 6pm was absolutely packed. The cocktails looked delicious, the crowd were cool city types interlaced with some typical hipsters. It looked like a great place to have a drink and I'd love to go back there on my next Melbournian visit.

Little Press and Cellars
72 Flinders Street, Melbourne VIC
http://www.thepressclub.com.au/menu.html

We hadn't had a cocktail for at least an hour so it was time to remedy that. I decided to be bold and request a trip to The Press Club, just a drink, no food. Honest. The Press Club is Masterchef''s lovably chubby George's flagship 2 hatted restaurant. Sexy and moody with a delicious fine dining take on Greek flavours I had sadly never quite gotten around to visiting but I had read great things about Little Press Cellars. At 6:30pm the place was quiet with only a trickle of businessmen sipping on their whiskey. I had only one thing on my radar, a decent martini.

A good straight up martini has become my guilty pleasure. Now that I am not a student and can afford to elevate myself from tesco value vodka I can fully appreciate the beauty of a simple ice cold vodka with a twist, shaken not stirred. Who would stir it...please!

To my friend R's amusement and horror I decided to go along with the fancy table service and allow my over accommodating bar tender to select my vodka to compliment my twist of lime. The beautiful article arrived (it was consumed way too quickly to take a photo) and alarmingly tasted like delicious, smooth, warming water (the type of water that makes you giggle for 5 blocks). It was an expensive treat. Suitably buzzed from good food and an extortionate drink we meandered to our final destination for some camp comedy and retired to Rooftop for some blurry skyline hot cider. Knowing that a hangover and an early start was on the horizon it was time to stumble home. Good night for now you sexy city.

Belated Greek breakfast feast

Demitris Feast, 141 Swan Street Richmond
http://www.demitrisfeast.com.au/


Not a cloud in the sky

I awoke bright and early which in reality means I woke up late with a pounding head and some directions to Richmond. It was time to have breakfast with my lovely Melbournite SH. S and I had met through a friend when I used to live in Wollongong and she took me under her Melbourne wing and introduced me to some of my now favourite cocktail bars, most noteworthy Berlin Bar in Chinatown. For that, and so many other things I will always owe her a debt of gratitude. So in my usual calamitous way I stumbled to Richmond.

We decided to dine at Demitris Feast, a beautiful Greek cafe that had won breakfast of the year a few years previously. In it's hype-filled hay day I had read mixed reviews of plates adorned with weird dried oregano and poor seating. But things seemed to have changed, it was a perfect sunny Melbourne morning and we snagged a quiet seat in the courtyard.

The breakfast was just what the doctor ordered, beautiful coffee with some house made beans, chorizo and olive oil soaked sourdough. S had the tomato and feta stack which looked utterly delectable too. With vows of friendship renewed and amusing anecdotes told it was time to say goodbye to S and to Melbourne for a little while. True to form as I waited for the flight, the sun bounced off the Qantas planes making my heart hurt a little with sadness.

But it's ok, you'll always have a place in my heart Melbourne. Goodbye for now old friend.

Shall we go to a trendy cafe?

Darlinghurst leafy love

Every morning of my holiday I was woken by my wonderful bundle of gay energy SS asking me the following magical question 'shall we go to a trendy cafe?'. He vowed to show me all that Kings Cross, Potts Point, Darlinghurst and Elizabeth Bay had to offer and my eager stomach was powerless to resist (besides it's all in the name of research right?).

Uliveto
33 Bayswater Road, Kings Cross
Sydney NSW 2011

Our journey starts at our first brunch together at Uliveto full of giggles, incessant picture taking and watching toned, tanned body builders tuck into their egg white omelettes with far too much enthusiasm (seriously guys, the yolk is the best bit!).

After inhaling my first decent coffee in 7 months we decided to order some food, my lovely companion ordered a chicken salad adorned with that beautiful Australian avocado and olives and I opted for a tuna melt slathered with cheese, tomatoes and lovingly scattered with herbs. It was simple and delicious, highly recommended.

Elizabeth Bay Cafe

Shop 2 & 3, 45 Elizabeth Bay Road

Elizabeth Bay NSW 2011 (I wish British postcodes were this straightforward)

Our next adventure took the birthday boy and I to Elizabeth Bay nursing a Beresford hangover and seriously craving ricotta. 

Elizabeth Bay Cafe is small and perfectly formed. The lunches are made with love and some really fresh ingredients, the best being these beautiful sweet tomatoes. The fresh sourdough was spread with olive oil, scattered with sea salt and toasted with a squeeze of lemon providing the icing on the hypothetical cake. It was a perfect start to a perfect Sydney day.

Birthday ricotta

Gelato Messina

Shop 1/241 Victoria Street, Darlinghurst

Sydney, NSW 2010

After our ricotta feed I had an epiphany, a birthday wouldn't be a birthday without a delicious dollop of beautifully made ice cream from Gelato Messina. When I was an Australian newbie S and I used to be flatmates. Our secret shame was our late night ice cream run to Cold Rock to order family sized tubs of cookies and cream ice cream with crushed chocolatey goodness. Gelato Messina takes this to a new level (the level that wins you best gelato in Australia).

What I love most about this place, apart from it being filled with lovely memories, is that you get to try whatever flavour you like before your buy, the hardest bit is deciding.

Fondante

Simple...delicious.

Petrol

9 Springfield Ave, Potts Point

Sydney NSW 2011

After already eating my body weight in delicious food, S announced excitedly one morning that he would take me to not one, not two but three cafes in one day. While this sounded excessive who was I to stand down from such a foodie challenge!

Starting the day with a coffee in a tiny hole in the wall (the name escapes me) and celebrity spotting Lara Bingle we decided to retire to one of our favourite little haunts, Petrol.

I really love Petrol, on a sunny day (and let's face it, in Sydney that's most days), sitting on the terrace is a dream. On a rainy day couches full to the brim with pillows provide a port in the storm. But the best thing about Petrol is it's beautifully crafted food. A favourite is the smoked salmon and sourdough platter but today I went for the Greek breakfast, olives n all complete with a poached egg, Persian feta and honey soaked sourdough. Absolutely incredible.

My handsome companion always loves to put me to shame and ordered a salad, although this was not just any salad it was speckled with slightly squidgy, slightly crunchy, squeaky and salty pieces of haloumi fried within an inch of their life. It was perfectly accompanied by soft juicy raisins and peppery balsamic rocket. Slightly warm, it was heaven on a plate.

By this point well and truly buzzing and completely stuffed we staggered our way to our final destination.

11 Cafe

It's so cool it apparently doesn't have an address

11 is a brand new cafe located on a Melbourne style lane way strip just around the corner from the debauchery of Kings Cross. The tiny little space is cool and enriched by the beautiful smell of freshly ground coffee. Swearing off food forever I took a glance at a wooden box full of desserts and suddenly was sold, there is always room for a Portuguese Tart.

Portuguese Tarts are a little pleasure of mine, apparently very easy to make I occasionally indulge in some eggy, buttery goodness. Today the perfect accompaniment to my treat was a spicy chai latte covered in cinnamon.

So we took the challenge, and we won. Now if you will excuse me I need to lie down.

La Buvette

35 Challis Avenue, Potts Point

NSW, 2011

Our cafe journey had to come to and end soon (are you hungry yet?) and our journey ends here at my favourite end of Potts Point. Delis are interlaced with bookshops which hide little espresso joints, everybody seems to know each other, passers by beam with happiness as if they can't believe their luck to live around the corner. I don't blame them.

We decided to settle at La Buvette, it was 32 in the shade so juices were mandatory, with our coffees of course. Then, heady from the heat I decided to do something shocking....order a salad.

Whenever I scan a menu I am somewhat predictable, if it has a high cheese or butter content I generally order it. Less concerned with someday getting chunky thighs i'm more concerned about cardiac events so now and again I reluctantly look over the croque monsieur and get something fresh and healthy. Today I opted for a grilled chicken caesar with extra bacon and poached egg (ok so this health thing is a work in progress).

I particularly enjoyed the salty chicken and the delicious parmesan set off with crispy garlic toast. Totally delicious, totally unhealthy. I very much enjoyed my salad, although I do sometimes lie awake at night wondering what that croque monsieur would have tasted like, how thick the layer of cheese and how crispy the buttery bread....

So goodbye for now beautiful suburb cafes, i'll be back to overindulge in you soon.

Spontaneous Sydney

This is what heaven looks like

As I was sitting on my 12 hour flight to Bangkok, one bearable plane meal down, lights out and watching Coldplay live at Glasto I had a thought, isn't it wonderful having friends that you don't think twice about jumping on a 24 hour flight to visit. While this might sound terribly cheesy (picture above demonstrates my penchant for cheese) these recent moments symbolise the point I am currently at in my life, since I moved back from Australia the world suddenly seems to have opened up allowing me to jump somewhat surreally between my two lovely lives.My exhaustion was causing me to be sentimental but 5 hours away from my mid-point destination I suddenly felt like the luckiest girl this side of Eastern Russia (or wherever I happened to be at the time of writing).

My trip to Sydney was hallmarked by some major events, two 30th birthdays, lots of live music, hanging in the hot tub, a vineyard retreat and of course a lot of eating. I have decided for simplicity I will document my adventures into a few separate bits: cafe eating, a weekend in Orange to and a spontaneous jaunt to Melbourne.

So forgive my endless pictures of beautiful food and sunshine. It's a hard job, but someone has got to do it.

Oh Sydney. It's good to be home

Secret Diary of a Long Haul Girl

I worked out today that I have endured 11 long haul flights in the last 5 years. All of which to Australia. I don't want to count up how much money that is but i'm pretty sure it's a nice deposit on a house. But hey, who cares, the words 'getting a foot on the property ladder' make me physically shudder.

What is do know is that's around 12 whole days spent in the air eating plane food, having juice and water brought to my seat and catching up on a years worth of free movies.

Today hovering somewhere outside Singapore was no exception. Long haul flights are both the bain and the favourite part of my life. I often liken them to how I imagine childbirth, the sweet joy of arriving at your destination means that you conveniently forget about the pain.

I have now endured enough long hauls to feel qualified to summarise them into a few key stages.

Arrival at the airport: Freshly showered, either beaming with excitement for the possibilities ahead or mildly sobbing after saying goodbye to good friends. The prospect of the food court always makes my eyes dance with excitement

1 hour later: This is the time I like to call 'disappointment that I didn't get upgraded'. Are flight upgrades an urban myth? I sure as hell have never had one. Also, why do some people have 4 suitcases and boxes containing strange things? Today a man had 4 boxes of cherries. Is that legal?

Boarding leg 1: The sinking feeling sets in as you realise that your obscurely timed flight that you assumed would be empty is completely full which invariably means that you run the risk of being stuck in the dreaded of all seats...the middle of a 4 seater. Is there anything worse in life than that seat? You walk past 1st class and business with a pained smile, everybody hates people who fly business. I also hate the extra leg room people, they always look so smug and DVT free. Also the ones who get the front row with the TVs mounted on the walls, they are always reserved for kids. Why should my sexy childless legs suffer for my life choices thus far? Ok fine, maybe a child does take up more room than my laptop

1 hour in: This is the point where you wonder why you always think long haul is so bad. This is amazing, peanuts, can of coke with lots of ice, meal being served and you've picked from the nice menu, you are halfway through a romantic comedy, you got a window seat and the sun is shining. This isn't so bad

Post meal: Mmmm more tea please, why do I always think plane meals are so bad and how do they get the veggies to be so delicious and buttery and the bread a little crisp? Mmm...

4 hours in: Ok so i've seen 2 films and i'm tossing up whether to watch some rubbish that i've seen a dozen times or to peruse their terrible selection of TV. Could I bring myself to watch 'How I met your mother'? What is that show even about? Also while we are at it, why is the Big Bang Theory now so popular? People I love and respect seem to like it, odd. It's getting dark out and everyone seems to be sleeping. I've already lost track of the day and time.

6 hours in: Ugh my suprachiasmatic nucleus says it's morning and they are serving me noodles in 30 minutes. At least I get some more of that nice warm bread

Halfway: I shouldn't have had that 30 minute sleep just before landing, now my body wants to sleep but my brain knows that I am going to have to engage my brain to find the gate at Bangkok airport. Why do I have to go through security again? Why is my secret stash of water always confiscated? After 20 or more years of being told to drink more water i'm suddenly being punished my the hydration police. The war is out there, leave my Mountain Spring alone.

Can't beat a good sunrise

At gate: Ugh what day is it? Surely I haven't still got 12 hours to go? On the plus side I live for the following: free internet (everybody is invariably checking Facebook, including me..what have we become?), those elusive loungers that you have to wrestle a child to get, a hazy sunrise or sunset, the almost alarmingly clean toilets, the serenity and the unfamiliar languages, mulling over whether to go for some traditional breakfast congee with the locals but always going to McDonalds for a sausage and egg McMuffin, entertaining the fantasy of becoming a spontaneous extremist and jumping on a flight to some remote Thai island.

1 hour into leg 2: Ok this is getting a bit painful, the aforementioned cute menu is no longer appealing, the smell of this bread is making me feel ill, this seat is way worse than the last one why didn't I sleep instead of watching 'What's Your Number?'. It wasn't Anna Faris' finest hour. I have no idea what day it is. Time for Tetris

5 hours into leg 2: I hate my life, I hate these seats, I hate the people next to me, there is a very real possibility that is somebody offers one of those horrible bread rolls then I might throw up. I hate everyone who is peacefully asleep. I wish I had managed to get a boyfriend mainly because putting my feet up on him right now would be amazing. How do some people look so fresh? I've never realised how bad my skin was before. I am never getting off this plane. How can there be 6 more hours to go?

2 hours until landing: Ha! In your face sleeping people! I too got some sleep, albeit broken and unsatisfying. I feel like I've spent 5 days in the same spot. I would sell my cookbook collection for a shower and a teeth clean. I have consumed 4 bottles of water and my mouth is still dry, why are these breakfast sausages so weird and oddly delicious? How do they get the omelettes perfect every time?

Arrival: Yes! I'm off the plane! I made it! Isn't life wonderful, oh the customs queue. Mental note must get one of those weird new passports. Oh it's good to be home, i'm never doing this again. I wonder when I can get back to Australia?

I hate long haul
Ps- I love you

Disclaimer: This post was written whilst heavily under the influence of Carol King's Tapastry somewhere near Singapore. 15 hours until landing

A Love Letter to Public Transport

Lazy Bristol Days

A fun fact about me, I can't drive. In fact I've never even entertained the thrill of sitting behind the wheel or experienced other adventures such as putting petrol in a car. Far from this being any conscious decision it has mainly been due to life events up to this point. Or at least that's what I tell people.

In fact, not being able to drive was a conscious decision. At the tender age of 17 years old the world was my financial oyster, I was living at home and working long hours at a hardware store getting double and triple time of disposable teenage income. During this time my mother in her infinite wisdom informed me that now was the time to learn to drive before life and money took over. Being a brazen teen I informed her that I'd much rather spend my hard earned cash clubbing and buying new Quicksilver clothes. Little did I know how much my addiction to Swansea's nightlife and expensive surf wear would alter my life.

Of course she was right, I could never have predicted that I'd spend 7 years at University and leave owing literally everybody loads of money. When I graduated I could just about afford to buy myself a loaf of bread let alone intensive driving lessons.

In a second twist of fate my first two heady years of proper income were spent in Australia meaning that unless I wanted to spend my beach or cafe time attempting how to parallel park a UTE there really was no point.

So that brings me to modern day, sitting on a Cross Country train to Cardiff contemplating my love affair with public transport. I think about myself as a driver and it slightly scares me. Having an addiction to packing an overnight bag and darting off around the country at a moments notice I fear owning a car would turn me into some kind of travel monster, making my modest carbon footprint resemble that of Bigfoot.

Plane vs train

The funny thing about not being able to drive is that you do get savvy with public transport (I'll save missed international flight anecdotes for another day). The train is my new British addiction, I love the freedom of being able to select a part of Britain and whimsically go there in a few hours. I also love the novelty and social order of the train. Don't sit in someone else's reserved seat for fear of public humiliation, always lock the sliding door on the toilet (for fear of carriage-wide humiliation) and if the drinks cart comes around you will be the only one not ordering a can of Stella, even if it is 9am.

I love seeing bits of the countryside that you wouldn't see from a car, looking at people's shiny luggage and wondering where they are going, eavesdropping on their lives just for a few hours before you go your separate ways. I even love the terrible food, my latest addiction being the semi-decent ham and emmental croissants at Nottingham station washed down with a heart starter coffee that makes listen to The Prodigy for 3 hours on my iPod at maximum volume. I love the polite conversation with strangers, usually about the disappointing efficiency or lack of available seats. I love taking the time to absorb a new album or tuck into the Guardian weekend that weighs more than my luggage.

A lesson in how to make a croissant more unhealthy

So my tastes have changed since I was that brazen 17 year old, I suppose I could not drink that Friday night cocktail, take that trip to France or boycott those gorgeous new Monsoon trousers. I'm sure i'll get around to learning to drive..someday.

Oh the drinks cart is coming around again. I wonder if I have enough for a Stella.

Arrival at Cardiff Central, right on time