This Week

Reading: Le Petit Prince.
Humming: Mon Legionnaire, the Edith Piaf version. Oh, Piaf!
Doing: Art exhibit opening at my beloved Mary Place Gallery on Tuesday night, but quiet for the rest - my credit card is begging for it. This means the beach if the weather's good, maybe motivating myself to get a headstart with Italian if the weather's bad.
Looking Forwad To: Italian classes and the Human Body exhibition this weekend.

Constant Cravings

I have the biggest craving for shoes. Particularly coloured shoes, like an apple green Louboutin. But there are so many pretty things out there, these just from E Luxury. Luckily they are all completely unaffordable and must remain eye candy for now.


A fun bright dress from Missoni.


It's the wardrobe equivalent of the perfect cupcake. Marc Jacobs Eyelet Skirt.


Since I am still looking for The Perfect Black Trousers, these Marc Jacobs Fine Wool Pants taunt me nicely.

But if I was going to relent and buy something, and it's not those Louboutins, it would be...

...This very delicate Marc by Marc Jacobs Bella Thermal Top.

Hey Mambo

I start Italian classes with mum this Saturday. Last time I learnt Italian was before Europe two and half years ago and I very much enjoyed it - very much enjoyed being teacher's pet too. I think she was pleased to have someone enjoying learning her language and enjoying participating. Why do people become wallflowers in extra-curriculum classes, like it's shameful to try your best or that it's enough to enrol and pay and show up more times than not. Those Italian classes got me around Italy with "un bicchiere de vino rosso per favore" and I'm hoping this will really kick-start learning another language seriously. By the time I leave for Europe in June I want to at least flawlessly get to "this pair in a 39.5, per favore"...

Cooking Up A Storm

First, a swim at Bronte after work on Friday afternoon. Glo-ri-ous. Then Saturday morning up finally after a sleeping pill for much-needed restful, non-jaw-grinding sleep and on to my adored Fratelli Fresh. God I love this place. You pull straight in and pick up the best fruit and vegies available in Sydney, for the same price as the supermarket. My car was smelling delicious with all the fresh basil, nectarines, tomatoes, peaches...Next was the Fish Markets for plump fresh mussels and some crab meat (managed to track down a tub of fresh, not frozen crab, from Indonesia - I'm not hand-picking a whole crab, not for dinner for two, not for Freddie Ljungberg). And then home for an afternoon of cooking, with Sex and the City in the background. There are worse ways to spend an afternoon, even in the heat, even with the fan off because it kept blowing out the gas. On the menu for the evening, three courses from Damien Pignolet's, french. Salad of potatoes, mussels, fennel with saffron-infused vinagerette; crab souffle; almond milk granita with crisp apples. I figure in the summer, and if you're hoping for some after-dinner action, you want to end the meal on a light note, as opposed to light entree-heavier main-substantial dessert. You want to start with full flavours, and work your way down. And it was a winning idea. Everything was sensational. And everything was ready and I was calm by the time he arrived (with beautiful red irises, I was hoping for flowers). The stand-out was the almond milk granita, because it's so delicious and so easy to make and so impressive. Voila the recipe (serves 2) (sorry, no photos, I forgot):

50g sugar
50mL water
125g blanched almonds (the recipe calls for about 250g, but because blanched almonds cost an arm and a leg, I hoped I could get away with half, and I did - it was just as flavoursome).
200mL milk
100mL water
1 apple
50g sugar
50mL water
Squeeze of lemon juice

Melt the sugar in the 50mL water over low heat. Let it cool. Process the almonds with the milk and water in a bzzsh/food processor until granular but smooth. Place the mixture in a muslin cloth (I'd say a clean tea towel could do the trick as well) and squeeze over a large bowl. (You can either do this straight after processing or leave it for 10 minutes to let the milk infused with the almonds). Mix the sugar syrup into the almond milk and place in the freezer. Every 20 minutes break up the mixture with a fork - you want to create fluffy crystals and if you leave it it will freeze into one solid mass.
In the meantime, preheat the oven to 90C and line a baking dish with baking paper. Melt the sugar in the water and let cool, then squeeze in some lemon juice. Very thinly slice the apple into 3mm-thick circles. Dip the apple slices into the sugar syrup, draining any excess liquid, and place on the baking paper. Bake for 20 minutes on each side (but watch them, you want them to go pale golden and crispy and not burn). You can make a batch and keep them in an airtight container, they're so delicious.
The granita will take several hours to freeze properly, but once ready, spoon into martini glasses (or any other lovely glasses/bowls) and serve with a few apple slices placed into the granita on the side.

We then played "21" with tequila and sexual favours and had a fun night, but something was off. Maybe I watched too much Carrie during the day but I was channeling her inquiete (is there a proper equivalent in English?). I think I need some time on my own. However that will happen.

Sunday was the Australia Day picnic with the girls, of which two showed up. More cooking yielded frittata and mini pavlovas (which a bird pood on). We need to invest in our female relationships and I hope others realise that too. The weekend ended with the men's final of the Australian Open. Such a good game, and I cried with Roger.

Walk The Line

Happiness is being at peace;
being with loved ones;
being comfortable...
But most of all,
it's having those loved ones.
(On Johnny Cash's tombstone)

I loved Joaquin. I loved Reece. I loved the Thanksgiving dinner scene. I loved the proposal and the romanticism and their love story and how amazing June was. I loved their voices and the music. I loved the clothes and the details. Their faces stayed in my mind all that night, and I couldn't sleep.

Australia Day

I love that I'll be celebrating Australia Day with yum cha. I'll love it even more if I can fit in a swim at Bronte Beach beforehand.
I love that our national anthem includes the word "girth". You can't get enough girth.
I love (nay, adore) this ad.
I love that on Sunday us girls will be having an Australia Day picnic at Centennial Park, and I'll be bringing the pavlova.
I love that I was called "arrogant" at a dinner party last year for saying I love living here.
I love that almost everyone is taking Friday off and making it a long weekend.

Happy Australia Day!

Miscellaneous

+ I'm wearing corporate today. Fitted striped shirt, tight black pencil skirt, high YSL heels. I want to power-fuck someone on a boardroom table.
+ Going to see Walk The Line tonight - cannot wait!
+ I am incredibly looking forward to the public holiday tomorrow. I've never looked forward to a day off so badly. I need sleep. Long, mobile alarm-free sleep.

I Cooked, Therefore I Can

Ah, how nice it felt to cook again. Firstly, to shop for good ingredients (Reggiano, oysters), then to come home early from work and cook while listening to Bebel Gilberto. The occassion: dinner with recipes from The Silver Spoon for mum (who bought me the book) and Boris, who haven't been to my place in yonks. On the menu:

+ Hard-Boiled Eggs With Oysters (page 375)
+ Spaghetti With Broccoli (page 299) (I used taglioni)
+ Citron Tarts (bought from Bowen Island Bakery - who has time to do three courses after work?)

Everything was super delicious and easy to make. The pasta especially has been added to my everyday repertoire - the broccoli puree is divine. If anyone wants the recipes just let me know. Here is the recipe (serves 4):

500g broccoli (recipe calls for frozen. I used fresh)
1 small onion, chopped
4 Tablespoons double cream (I used cream)
Butter and olive oil
250g taglioni or spaghetti (the recipe calls for 500g spaghetti but this is way too much)
Fresh Parmigiano Reggiano, to serve

Cook the broccoli in salted water for 10 minutes (not longer, it'll fall apart and go mushy). Melt some butter and olive oil in a pan and cook the onion over low heat for around 5 minutes until soft (don't let it go brown). Drain the broccoli and add to the onion, stir, then add the cream. Continue to cook on low heat for another 5 minutes. Transfer to a food processor and buzz into a puree. Season with salt and pepper. Cook the pasta until al dente, then stir through the broccoli cream. Serve with Parmigiano Reggiano.

Tip: After cooking the broccoli, reserve the water and use it to cook the pasta in. If you use thin pasta like taglioni, it should only take around 5 minutes to cook, and in this time you can cook the broccoli with onion, so it saves a lot of time. Also reserve some of the cooking water after you drain the pasta and use a few Tablespoons to keep the pasta fresh and from sticking together.

Afterwards we watched the women's tennis while eating too many Lindt balls.


Hard-boiled eggs with oysters


Taglioni with broccoli

Next on the to-do list: improve food photography. To be on par with Delicious Days.

Warms The Cockles

You know when you meet someone on your travels, and you click, and have a really great few days, and you both go back home and get on with your lives, and you email, and then you email less often but they're still in your thoughts, and at Christmas you send them an email apologising for being slack and vowing to make a greater effort the following year, and that if they should ever be in your neck of the woods that they MUST stay with you, and then the emails become annual rituals and one day you don't hear back and you think that's it, they've changed emails or forgot about you and that's it. And sadly you chastise yourself for being slack and letting a good person slip from your life and with a shrug justify it as another casuality of modern, internet age, transient international relationships.

And then when you least expect it they reply. Warms the cockles.

Personal History - Mum And Dad Edition

Just realised: there are no photos of the four of us, or even of mum, dad and I.


Unhappy after the bath. Love mum's 70's skirt.


Painting with dad. I remember this moment as if it were yesterday. What a dag, I'm even wearing ugg boots (oh, the horror). DIY action never to be seen again.

These Are A Few Of My Favourite Things (And All Experienced This Weekend)

1. Food. As surreal as Friday night/Saturday morning was, it included a wonderful dinner at La Ricetta, Newtown. Scampi carpaccio sings and melts on the tongue followed by homemade ravioli filled with duck and prosciutto in a butter and sage sauce - food that makes me want to have Groundhog Day moments to relive over and over again. On Sunday I cook for the first time in months, and brunch turns into breakfast when I find out my oven doesn't work, but J and W (and myself) are ga-ga over my Moroccan-spiced scrambled eggs with pan-fried tomatoes and toasted Turkish bread, with strawberry smoothie martinis. For dinner Boris meets mum and I post-movie for dinner at Fish At The Rocks. Despite a few annoying things like what I wanted not being available (tell us when you give us the menus, perhaps?) it's a sensational meal of salt and pepper calamari to share, then a whole barramundi stuffed with prawn and red curry vegetable mousse with lemongrass and coconut cream, topped with crunchy noodles. Extremely flavoursome and well cooked - an ideal meal. Oh and profiteroles to share over coffee - when they are fresh and done well, as these were, there are few things greater.
2. The Beach. A sunbake and swim at Bronte Beach on Saturday afternoon. The sun was hot, the water was crispy cold and clear and once in I couldn't get out. It was the first time I'd swam in the enclosed calm spot since I was little.
3. Mum. We hung out at the beach on Saturday and she looked after me when I sprained my ankle. On Sunday we had a girly afternoon shopping, then went to see Mrs Henderson Presents which was very pleasant (love Judi Dench and Bob Hoskins), followed by dinner. One of the memorable moments was in the shoe section at Myer, when I spotted the pair of Alessandro del'Acquas I fell in love with on a recent eBay charity auction. In Russian:
Me: "And look, they're $800 here when I could have got them for $US120!"
Mum: "So why didn't you?"
Me: "Because I forgot and went out to lunch just before the auction ended".
Mum: "I'm always telling you to eat less!"
We were crying from laughter, and as mum added later, the only time she would tell me to eat less would be when shopping's involved.
4. Shopping. It was high time I checked out the sales and the Bargain Gods were smiling upon mum and I as we did very well (good enough to cancel out going to the beach again). Picked up a fitted shirt and colourful chiffon top both for $70 from Cue, then my new leather flip flops from Witchery. And gelato makes the day even better.

Self Portrait Tuesday On A Friday

Thanks to Joy for inspiring me to get in on the act and for posting her own gorgeous photos. Here's a bit of my own personal history that I sneaked from mum's albums (and I've added some of my sister and I to this recent post).


One of my favourite photos. This is a typical summer early evening dinner with family friends in our backyard in the house I grew up in till I was 8. There's vodka and plenty of food, necessary ingredients for a Russian get-together.
From left to right, grandma Sara, ex-family friends who's daughter I grew up with, my sister and I.


I used to stay at my grandma's house some weekends and sometimes I loved it, sometimes I hated it. One Saturday night after being dropped off it was a case of the latter and I was screaming and demanding my parents come and pick me up. Dad had to leave the dinner they were at (and they rarely went out) and pick me up. As soon as he opened the door I ran out, running all the way to the car, tripping over the long concrete walkway in her building and hurting my chin. This photo was taken the next day, and I was miserable.


Striking a pose with Barbie. That's my beloved Nancy who I just found out my sister named after Sid and Nancy. But I can't even think about her without getting emotional, I loved her so much.

Confession

I liked Pam Anderson's look from the Golden Globes. The dress, the hair, the makeup. I mean, she's not going to show up channeling Audrey Hepburn, is she? Maybe it's because I'm still having the occassional dream about Tommy Lee (must remove Motley Crue's Red, White and Crue CD from my car) but I think she looked fun and hot.

The dress is now up for auction on Clothes Off Our Back. Buy it for me.

Tish is the only one who agrees with me, as revealed while flopping on her bed at the Establishment Hotel last night, with a cheese plate and Champagne and boring ugly man tennis. This is one of the sexiest rooms I've ever seen, pure boutique, with huge shower big enough for a party, Bvlgari toileteries (I fall for that shit), cool CDs and DVDs on tap, and you need to be buzzed in so no plebs milling about the foyer. And it's adjacent to Tank Stream Bar, another sexy little number. I texted A to say this was the perfect hotel to take a date if the first date goes really well. I was hoping for I can't wait to take you. Brevity, mystery, flirty, sexy. Instead he replied that I'm high maintenance (tongue in cheek, but still).

Favourite Hot Chocolate Story

On Saturday night, in between Thai food and Antony and the Johnsons, my sister and I were in the mood for hot chocolate, and gleefully fitted in a chocolate con churros at Miro's before the concert. Kath told me her favourite hot chocolate story, and here is mine:

In Paris, July 2003. I took myself to Cafe de Flore. Just had to experience it, and I got the last outdoor seat tucked away in the corner. It was a hot day but I had to try the hot chocolate. It was brought out on a tray as hot milk and chocolate, to make yourself depending on preferred strength. And iced water, to take the richness away (or scull, as I did because of the heat). It was rich and gorgeous and I savoured every sip. I sat there people watching, the handsome middle-aged man in front of me, impeccably dressed; the writers; the very few tourists (which pleased me, despite me being a tourist, but I'm a francofille, and that's different, as francofiles can justify). I was having such a good time I decided to stay when there was no more chocolate to lick up, and ordered a kir. I don't know why, but I thought I'd be in and out with the chocolat chaud, when I should have known I'd stay - it's one of my simple pleasures, to people watch, and St Germain des Pres is perfect for that. So I went backwards in the order of drinking and enjoyed a cool kir. As soon as the tables cleared, they were refilled, and at this point a woman sat down at the table next to me. She was late-30s, and was waiting. Then a man showed up, and I realised it was a first date. They were American expats, and the man was ugly geeky and worked in IT or finance, she was not very attractive and in a similar line of work, but seemed smarter. Not that you knew it, he talked constantly about himself, his work, his life, all unexciting, and she sat there like the good woman, listening, nodding, laughing at his unfunny stories, letting him dominate. I eavesdropped the whole conversation, amazed how he wouldn't ask her questions, wouldn't think to stop and even out the conversation, get to know the person he was meeting for the first time. He ordered a hot chocolate, and talked about his sweet tooth to the point of sounding effeminate, and Angelina's was mentionned as the best chocolatier in the city, and I wish I'd had time to go there too. I think I ordered an espresso, to perk me up from the hot afternoon lull. It was expensive and a delicious way to spend the afternoon.

Outside the Cafe de Flore, St Germain des Pres, July 1952, Robert Capa

What is your favourite hot chocolate story? I'd love to read yours, regular and not-so-regular readers. I won't tag you, but why don't you post the story on your blog?

There Was A Weekend In There Somewhere

Friday night: Birthday Champers for Keli at the White Horse. Alisha flew in from Fraser Island and we walked over to Darlinghurst. First stop, Una's, for a drink and dinner. Stupidly huge schnitzel with mushroom sauce and rosti, then, bursting, we went to Darlo Bar for our beloved jug o' Pimms. Closing early as they do, we went to the Cross and did the strip, popping into the sex shops which really need an update. Dusty vibrators with faded packaging aren't doing anyone any favours.
Saturday: Yum cha at East Ocean with Alisha (the works, including steamed oysters, scallops and ginger shallot mud crab). During a second helping of what should be Sydney's quintessential summer dish - mango pancakes - we realised how late it was and bolted home, with me dropping Alisha off with only five minutes to spare for the wedding she'd flown over here for. 10 minutes later, stuck in traffic on my way to see grandma, a guy smashes into my car, causing a big dent and scratches on the side. AAMI are fantastic.
Saturday night: Kath and I have dinner at Spice I Am, sampling some of their signature dishes - crispy pork belly and pla tod ka min (deep fried sand whiting with tumeric, salt and pepper), and washed down with young coconut juice (I fly to Fiji and stay thirsty but end up finding young coconut around the corner from chez moi). Very good food. It's prolly a good thing they don't home deliver, it would be trouble for me. Then we head to the State Theatre to see Antony and the Johnsons (via a detour to Miro's and their chocolate con churros). Kath is a huge fan and I was really moved by the music too on this first tasting, especially the song You Are My Sister.
Sunday: Mum and I went to get me an outdoor setting for my balcony, finding the perfect glass table and two seats (a lovely present from mum). In the evening Alisha was too hungover from the wedding to do anything, so we had Domino's, DVDs (Sideways and 10 Things I Hate About You) and icecream.

You Are My Sister, Antony and the Johnsons
You are my sister, we were born
So innocent, so full of need
There were times we were friends but times I was so cruel
Each night I'd ask for you to watch me as I sleep
I was so afraid of the night
You seemed to move through the places that I feared
You lived inside my world so softly
Protected only by the kindness of your nature
You are my sister
And I love you
May all of your dreams come true
We felt so differently then
So similar over the years
The way we laugh the way we experience pain
So many memories
But theres nothing left to gain from remembering
Faces and worlds that no one else will ever know
You are my sister
And I love you
May all of your dreams come true
I want this for you
They're gonna come true (gonna come true)

Thanks to Joy inspiring me to join Self Portrait Tuesday, I scanned my favourite childhood photos of Kath and I.

Day Off

Took the day off yesterday as Alisha wanted to treat me to a day in the Hunter Valley. Having lived here all my life, I can't believe I've never been. We even watched Sideways the night before to prep ourselves. So, we got up nice and early but still managed to miss the bus. And the train info guy was an arsehole. So we hopped in my car like Thelma and Louise and drove up.

The drive is so easy and we didn't even need the radio - we chatted about whether oral sex was more intimate than sex sex, laughed at Australia's silly place names and signs (Kurri Kurri; F Sale) and overtook the Captain Good Vibes express to Byron Bay. Once there, we started with the Pepper Tree winery, and since it was such a hot day we stuck mostly to whites, of which I'm not a fan, but the heat...Some lovely wines, and as it was lunch we went next door to Robert's restaurant and had a truly superb meal.

Pepper Tree winery

We shared our glasses of wine, entrees and mains - entrees were figs filled with gorgonzola and wrapped in prosciutto with a gorgonzola sauce, and fried lamb's kidneys in a mushroom with crispy leeks. Mains were grain fed beef with wild mushrooms, white asparagus and leeks, and milk fed veal with spinach, mushrooms and roasted baby roma tomatos, with a complimentary side dish of pommes boulangere (and amazing bread). With our espresso was a marzipan-filled date. The meal was perfection - if it was in Sydney it would easily have two hats - and I was blown away with the produce. The rocket had such crispiness and colour, the mushrooms wild (which you never see anymore), and the veal melted in the mouth.

Robert's Restaurant

Entrees of figs and lamb's kidneys.


Peruche sugar and marzipan-filled dates.

Next was Brokenwood - it's Cricket Pitch red is a favourite everyday wine for me but we were pretty ho-hum about the wines on offer. We went to Bella's Chocolate and Fudge Shop and stocked up on beautiful creamy fudges (vanilla bean for me, so good). It's funny how fudge sounds so similar to fug - in our post-boozy lunch haze this cracked us up to no end.

Wines were sampled. We even did the wine snob thing.

Fudge. It's just like Fug!

Lastly, we went to the Calais estate. I sampled a Calais white years and years ago and loved it, so it was very special to find this boutique winery. We both loved the Verdelho the most from the whole day's tastings, and bought a bottle each to drink simultaneously one day when Alisha heads home. We were both struck by one of the conversations in Sideways, how Miles saves his special bottle of wine for a special occassion, while Maya tells him it's a special occassion whenever he opens the bottle. This small but fundamental difference in personality speaks volumes, and I was really impressed by it. So our bottle of Verdelho is going to be opened to celebrate friendship whenever we feel like it.

Slapper!

So beautiful.

Drove home, it only took 1.5 hours, and we changed for drinks with Alisha's friend Steve and old flatmate Simon, who I flirted with and kissed as Alisha was leaving last time. It was nice to catch up over bottles of sparkling, and we had so much energy we hit Scruffy's for old time's sake after the boys left, were stunned by the freaks, and went over to dance at 3 Wise Monkeys. I was very taken by one of the security guards, and we flirted and exchanged numbers and my lips passed ice onto his tongue, and it was very sexy, before I stuck my hand into his pants and found there was only a hard handful, and I really am a cock snob, because I dropped him like a hot potato. He was tall, good-looking, Turkish, I expected more. Alisha and I discussed blow jobs and if we really are as good as we think - what if we're not? We agreed we should do something about it, like watch some pros in action. Once they closed, we darted out of sight of Chevy (who kept calling all night, bloody hell) and cabbed it to the Cross, but everything was closing so we came home and crashed.

Now I am tired and hungover and drinking tea with milk and sugar.

In The Mood For Cooking

Except I don't. My little open plan kitchen doesn't inspire me to cook, or maybe it's the cooking for one, or maybe - highly likely - it's my laziness. Laziness coupled with too many cheap eat options living in the inner city. This week has been Chinese, Vietnamese, pasta, cocktails, Thai.

But last night I got in bed with Damien Pignolet's french, my Christmas present from A. It's a beautiful cookbook, with unpretentious photos and intimidating recipes. I set out to mentally plan a three course dinner for us à la 'thank you for the book, look I've put it to good use'. Couldn't find anything that I could whip up on a Saturday afternoon without a sweat and an anxiety attack, so I went to sleep annoyed (and let down at myself - I used to relish cooking).

Now I am at Chocolate & Zucchini, lusting after her Carbonades Flamandes, and feel inspired again. Perhaps Damien's duck liver parfait, and I'm not too shabby with a souffle (the Valrohna chocolate one looks sexy), so my faith is restored.

OMG OMG OMG Freddie Is Back!

Thank you dear sweet Miu von Furstenberg for posting the new Calvin Klein ads with Freddie Ljungberg. Freddie is my Ultimate Hot Guy and I've already droned on about my lust for him in the last series of CK Underwear ads.

This better be hitting a billboard near me or there is going to be some serious sexual frustration.

Proenza For Target? Julia For Proenza For Target!

I'm going fruit loops imagining a Proenza for Target collection, so please let the rumours come to fruition!

I wore my Karl Lagerfeld for H&M black silk dress with Gucci PVC heels the other night to cocktails and it was such a slinky look. That dress really is something special.

Muse

Now that it's the height of summer and I have warm honey skin (I'm happiest when I have colour), I'm very inspired by Jade Jagger. Just love the gorgeous skin, the free spirit, her look that's very 'throw something on at the last minute', very casual elegant and sexy with beautiful simple jewellery and sensational shoes. It's another 'ideal me'. And it makes me want to go to Ibiza!







And for winter, this will be me all over...


From NY Metro's Economy of One.

This Week

Reading: Merde Actually, the sequel to A Year In The Merde, by Stephen Clarke.
Listening To: The Best of Paolo Conte and the 5x2 soundtrack.
Annoyed By: My lack of enthusiasm for things that need to be done.
Wanting: Black pants; fitted shirts.
Need: New leather flip flops; bookshelf.
Going To See: Antony and the Johnsons - sister is a fan, hopefully I will be blown away as everyone else is (even French December Vogue).
Have The Travel Bug For: Ile de Re.

It is also my last week having Alisha stay chez moi before she leaves for cold London next Tuesday. I met Alisha just over a year ago when she was on a WHV and I fell in love with her instantly. I'm so glad she came to stay with me for her holiday this time and I'm already getting pangs of sadness at the thought of her leaving. She's so much fun.

The Brazilian

We went out last night.
I was completely intimidated leading up to.
I mean, he's Brazilian. The land of Brazilians. The land of derrieres as ripe and bitealicious as peaches.
And sure, I have a Brazilian, but isn't that so ho-hum when faced with a guy from the land of origin? It's like giving lavender soap as a thank-you-for-having-me gift when you've stayed with friends who have a holiday home in Provence. It's like, tell me something I don't know.
We went out. It was supposed to be a double drinks thing with Alisha picking up some Irish backpacker, but that didn't eventuate. He was not as cute as I remembered him to be. Ah, damn it. Champagne on my fragile tummy turned into too much Chinese at Superbowl in the wee hours. A sweet guy, not a bad kisser, but nada, and now he's a bit too keen, inviting me to share his birthday solo with him, etc etc...
I'm no good at these things.
(OK I'm fessing up: a big part of the me no likey is his accent. It's pure Borat. I just can't).

Weekend

Cocktails - check.
Saw Broken Flowers (not bad, I love Bill Murray. I love Julie Delpy. Acting was great all round) - check.
Wore low cut dress that attracted more attention than fireworks on NYE - check.
Met cute Brazilian boy - check.
Developed horrible disgusting tummy bug - check.
Cute Brazilian boy now asking to go out and I feel flat as a pancake - check.

New Year's Message From A Gentleman Who Was An Amazing Fuck

Gardes ton sourire, donnes de l'amour à ceux qui t'entoure et surtout, surtout aime la vie...parce qu'elle t'adore !!

Bula!

Back from Fiji and it was fabulous! Such a beautiful place with beautiful people.

Tan? Check.
Cocktails? Check.
Relax to the max? Check.

The people really are so genuinely friendly. Bula! can never be said enough, and everyone wants to shake hands for new year. They make very little money, and dream of travelling to your country, and you wish they could. But they are happy, and this happiness is infectuous.

Friday - arrived in the afternoon to warm rain. The Naviti is a great hotel, albeit very family (there was one other couple, and we were the only other duo there). Quite fatigued so had cocktails then buffet dinner which was island-themed. Many servings of kokoda - raw fish/seafood cooked in lime and coconut milk. Absolutely delicious.
Saturday - went to Sigatoka, the local town, to browse the Saturday morning markets. The town is small and bustling but not in a pleasant way, but the markets had some interesting produce. Lots of never-seen-before chillies - miniscule red ones, some that looked like cherry tomatoes, green misshapen balls - plus purple eggplants and all the root vegetables - but no coconuts! Young coconut is one of my favourite ever things (the jelly-like flesh! the juice!) and tropical island = coconut. The place is lined with coconut trees, as well as mango, papaya, paw paw, but there were no coconuts (and very few mangos) for sale or served in any restaurants.
This being New Year's Eve, our hotel and it's sister The Warwick (ten-minutes drive east) were putting on the usual expensive buffet dinners, so Natalie and I had the kid's buffet early in the evening - cold macaroni, fish and chips, the opposite to gourmet - but they forgot to charge us. We headed off to The Warwick to dance and cocktail the night away. Lots of fun, on this dot in the ink ocean hours ahead of the rest of the world.
Sunday - a glorious day. Back to The Warwick for sea, sand and sun. Then sunstroke. More cocktails.
Monday - we did a tour to the centre of the island. With Nadi being a 1.5 hour drive to our hotel I felt like we'd seen enough of the coast so this was the perfect way to explore more of the main island. The bus took us 1.5 hours inland then we all hopped on canoe-type boats for a one hour ride up the Navau River, through lush green rainforest, mountains and waterfalls. The warm rain fell as we glided through water that was like jade glass. Spectacular. We were taken to a village of 200 people, sure it was a little touristy but still interesting and the guide was fun, with a lovely lunch (taro leaves cooked with small diced carrot and coconut milk - divine). Back at the hotel, it was cocktails and a lighter dinner at the Chinese restaurant at the hotel - after all the heavy breakfasts and lunches we were craving some vegetables.
Tuesday - another postcard-perfect day, spent at The Warwick on the beach. I went snorkelling and was dazzled by all the colourful fish, big and small, that were right on the beach. So addictive. That evening we wanted to try a local restaurant and were given the thumbs up by our taxi driver Sam for the seafood restaurant, Vilisite's, near our hotel. The two ladies working there were just so lovely - as everyone is - and we had the garlic prawns and a whole lobster each ($60 each for both). I bought a sulu, their name for a sarong, which I adore.
Wednesday - we left at 10.30am and dropped our bags off at the airport, then headed to Nadi for a look around. Nothing to catch our eye, but lunch at one of the many ho-hum looking cafes was delightful. I felt like a curry but was convinced to have an authentic Fijian dish as my last meal in the country. It was fried cubes of snapper in a light coconut broth, along with sliced beans, carrots, onion and tomato, served with rice, taro and cassava. So flavoursome, I can't wait to cook this myself. The flight home was next to a Vince Neil lookalike, alas, a more Aussie bogan version of Vince Neil, and not the bad boy I know and lust.

Books read: The second half of Shopgirl, Who Moved My Blackberry and A Year In The Merde.


There were cocktails.

And cocktails.

Tall, creamy cocktails...

Short, creamy cocktails...


In fact, cocktails of all shapes and sizes...

The beautiful beach at The Warwick - postcard perfect.

Village on the Navau River.

There was even pool-side Scrabble (with cocktails). Look - FUG!

Gorgeous sunsets (with cocktails).

One more.

Lucky last.

View from our hotel room of the mountains.

View from our hotel room of the coconut trees.

Lobster at Vilisite's restaurant.

The delicious Fijian dish I fell in love with in Nadi.

Goodbye - from the plane.