On a little road-trip to West Wales, Joe and I stopped at Worm's Head to check out views over the massive cliffs.
Here I am psyched to be in a traffic jam in Wales. As a local, Joe was understandably less amused.
This rock-climber was killing it/is out of her goddamn mind.
It was windy and foggy (I’m told this is the general demeanor of Wales) and it was beautiful. We got a meat pie, fish and chips (from the "chippy") and enjoyed wandering amongst the sheep and the WILD HORSES.
After London, I hopped on a bus to Cardiff, Wales to visit my friend Joe. The first night was filled with authentic Welsh food (sausage and mash) and ales while watching the Scottish Independence Referendum at a bar that was celebrating the occasion. The party bit was a little premature as by the time we woke up the next day Scotland had voted against independence… but it was still a fun night with Joe and his friends teaching me necessary Welsh phrases such as:
“Fy enw I yw Rachel.” (My name is Rachel)
“Syt da chi?” (How are you?)
“Ble mae’r cwrw?” (Where’s the beer?)
This is Joe. We worked together at Little Creatures in Perth and then roamed around Melbourne together for a few months after. Now he makes marvelous videos as a Creative Lead at Fixers UK.
The following day we headed to a tiny town in the countryside and toured a coal mine called “The Big Pit” and I learned that:
a) there is not an actual enormous pit to be found there (false advertising)
b) being a coal miner seems terrible
Wales Street Style
We weren't allowed to bring cameras or phones into the 300 feet deep into the earth mine (something about magnets and safety or something) hence these exterior shots.
Wales is super lush, very green, foggy and full of sheep. We ate a late lunch at a gorgeous misty overlook and tried to trick a sheep into taking a photo with me (this was unsuccessful).
Later that night, Joe took me to a quirky little bar called Milgi where I got the most delicious cocktail of my life, the Berry Collins. I sucked that thing down like it was Gatorade after a 10K.
Not the yurt. The yurt was too exquisite to photograph.
If you ever find yourself in Cardiff… get over to Milgi, get a Berry Collins and you can drink it in the YURT they have in the back patio. A yurt! In Wales!
A cute bicycle repair-coffee shop-gallery on Hoxton Street employs two of the friendliest and helpful men I’ve ever met and they gave me detailed list of things to do around London, one of which was to visit Hampstead Heath. So, I lured Will away from the pub (he’s not an alcoholic, he’s just English) and we hopped on the Northern Line for an afternoon in the fresh air.
Hampstead Heath is massive, quiet park with giant fields and multiple ponds. You completely forget you’re still technically in London while you're there. We got sandwiches from a shop in the swank little town that surrounds the park, hunkered down for a picnic by the model boating pond and then napped in the sun. It was so, so lovely.
+ If you'd like to see a few more shots of Hampstead Heath and the surrounding town, keep clicking the last photo above.
When I lived in Australia for a year (over 5 years ago) I stayed in Melbourne for a few months and lived at the downtown Flinders Station Hostel. Over many games of doubles pool (partnered with my friends from Little Creatures, either George and Joe --- I contributed very little as I'm awful at pool) we became friends with two fun New Zealanders, Amy and Steve.
In preparation for this trip, I reached out to Amy to see if she'd be in New Zealand or in Europe when I am (she currently works as a pastry chef in Swenden) and luckily enough, it turned out we'd be in London at the same time! So, one afternoon I met up with her and her sweet Swedish boyfriend Martin for a walk around the city and a visit to the Tate Modern.
Millenium Bridge
The London Design Festival was on last week, which consisted of pop-up shops at local retailers. I explored the trail around Shoreditch and found myself wandering into beautiful shops filled with items I have no actual use for as I'm currently living out of a backpack but were lovely to peruse, nonetheless. Pitfield and Good Hood had such different but gorgeous set-ups (with built-in cafes!) I could unpack my bag and live at either quite happily (sort of like how I usually feel at Anthropologie).
Good Hood cafe
Good Hood
Pifield
This little photobook about man who lived in East London his whole life was in Pitfeld... "I'm Jewish but I go to the Christian church because the people are nice. We see movies together. Last week we saw Piranha 3D."
+ Keep clicking the photo above for more.
To be honest, every night in London was a night out but this one was a particularly good one. A mix of English, Swedish, Canadian and American folk from the hostel plus a rogue Italian (not sure where he came from) gathered and after a few pints we had made our way to a few bars and later to this massive half-outdoor-dance-club, Cargo.
This is Will. He's from Guernsey, England which he insists is a terrible place (it looks lovely if you google it) and he's trying to move to London. He's quickly become my best friend at the hostel. He talks a mile a minute and with his thick accent and English slang I can't understand half of what he's saying but what I do pick-up is an absolute riot. He gets very protective when we go out and I talk to strangers even though up until 4 days ago, he was a stranger. He's a good one.
The cover charge at Cargo was steep (£20 and the USD exchange rate is brutal currently) but it was well worth it. A great night out.
Between Jack The Ripper murder sites and Indian food restaurants, the East End was filled with great street art.
+ Keep clicking the last photo for a few more.
Went on a walking tour of London's East End. Gritty and colorful, it's full of history and great shopping.
Rough Trade on Brick Lane
After getting some much needed sunglasses (it hasn't rained once yet!) at the vintage markets, I stopped into Rough Trade and had a nice listen to the Adult Jazz record in the listening booth.
FUN FACT OF THE TOUR: back in the day, London was filthy and gin was cleaner and cheaper to get than drinking water (and kept folks warm during the Great Winter of 1739). The gin they were making was super strong (80% or 160 proof, today it's 40%) and it was usually cut with other cheap toxins, so it often straight-up killed people or put them in a coma. The coma-ridden would be declared dead after 3 days but would sometimes wake-up later, buried alive and banging on the coffin. They started burying people in "safety coffins" that had a bell in them that the buried alive could ring to alarm cemetery night-watchman to save them. Hence, we have gin (and not Zack Morris) to thank for the phrase "saved by the bell".
I'm staying at the Dictionary Hostel in London which despite 16 person rooms and 4 AM false fire alarms, has proved to be fantastic place to live. There's a cute cafe and bar attached which has made it easy to meet locals and fellow travelers.
The hostel is in the heart of Shoreditch, which reminds me of Williamsburg, Brooklyn with well-designed coffee shops, bars and restaurants at every corner. I'll be surviving off homemade omelettes the rest of the week but the banh mi at Keu and coffee at Ruby was well worth it. Needless to say, I have completed abandoned my budgetary-restricted cappuccino limit already.
Everyone is suspiciously gorgeous in London and while I was expecting the locals to be cold (like in Boston, where we politely ignore one another) they've turned out to be wildly friendly and charming. It's been a lovely start.
+ Keep clicking the last photo above for a few more shots around London.
After saving a lot of money, selling my things, moving out of my apartment, quitting my job, a few farewell dinners/dance parties, a ton of Carvel ice cream cake and some teary goodbyes (my Mum held it together better than Sandy)... I hopped on a one-way flight to London to start my round-the-world trip.
I'm in London now and I don't think it's actually hit me yet. It probably won't until a month in when I remember I don't have a return ticket. (!!!)
After four and half years and two apartments, I said goodbye to darling Jamaica Plain. I'll miss the runs around Jamaica Pond, lazy Sunday brunches on Centre Street, soy cappuccinos at Ula Cafe, reading on our treehouse of a porch and running into friends at City Feed. And of course, my lovely roommates in apartment #3.
+ Keep clicking the photo above for a few more photos.
August proved to be a solid month filled with parties: birthday, housewarming, engagement, wedding and of course the usual weekend dance party. Great way to end a great summer.
