This past weekend I visited the land of Shakespeare with three good friends - Jess, Mal and Dutchie. It was meant to be a total road trip where we wouldn't make any plans other than drive up to Stratford for the weekend. No hotel bookings, no tours, nothing other than us, a car and a few google maps.
Two days before the trip, I crumbled and went through a frenzy of google searching and trip advisor research and booked us into a self-catering cottage called Weston Sands. They laughed, but my control freak nature wouldn't let me just show up with no plans. And besides, it turned out to be an amazing place for a great deal. Three bedrooms, all modern mod-cons, comfy couch and a big flat screen tv. Plus we were in the middle of the country... it was gorgeous.
Anyway, I debated on whether or not to bring my running gear, but in the end, the thought of having to run 10 miles on Sunday night, or even worse, Monday morning was too dreadful and I made room in my bag. It turned out be the best decision as I managed to find a trail cutting through the rolling fields straight into Stratford Upon Avon. Below is my run... you'll notice a bit of back and forth near the end, that's because I got back to my starting point and still had another 1.5 miles to run.
While I'll always be a city girl at heart and the thought of living in the countryside strikes fear in my heart, I have to say that running in the countryside definitely outweighs running in the city. For one thing - no stop lights... also, people are so nice when you run by. I've never smiled and waved at so many people while running. And when I passed by a couple who I had ran past earlier, they actually made eye contact and gave me a thumbs up.
You'll be happy to hear that despite my history of (ahem) navigational mishaps, I managed to stay on one path and not run around aimlessly in Shakespeare's country.
My Shakespeare Country run by irenepoon88 at Garmin Connect - Details
Monday, 31 January 2011
Monday, 20 December 2010
hoping for a hat trick
Last year over Christmas, my flight coming back to London was threatened by the greed of striking BA staff. Thankfully, the crisis was averted and I was able to return back to work on my scheduled flight. To be fair, I really wasn't all that worried about being stuck at home for a bit longer, but I also didn't want to waste any precious vacation days on staying in Canada.
In April, I was due to fly to Vancouver for my brother's wedding when a volcano I dubbed 'Iggy' decided to erupt and spew ash all over the hemisphere causing cancellations galore.
Working in the travel industry at the time, I couldn't escape the possibility that I might actually have to partake in my brother's wedding via Skype. My stress levels and disappointment were so severe that I was whisked out the night before my flight was due to leave to drown my sorrows in 2 for 1 cocktails.
But the miracle swept in, and they opened the airports that very morning and I walked down the aisle after all.
Now a measly five inches of snow and more forecasted bad weather is threatening to leave me stranded and alone in London for Christmas. After I busted my ass to get all of my Christmas shopping done in time and braved the streets of Oxford Circus...
So I'm crossing my fingers and hoping like mad to score a hat-trick. Because despite my flatmate offering to wrap up random items in our house for me to open up on Christmas Day (Thanks Suey) - I really want to go home this year.
A photo of the very empty Heathrow Express train carriage the morning the airports opened after the ash cloud crisis. I showed up 4 hours early expecting a mad mob - this is what I was greeted with
My ride to my brother's wedding - I'd never been so happy to board a plane.... I'll be even happier when/if I board a plane this Friday afternoon
In April, I was due to fly to Vancouver for my brother's wedding when a volcano I dubbed 'Iggy' decided to erupt and spew ash all over the hemisphere causing cancellations galore.
Working in the travel industry at the time, I couldn't escape the possibility that I might actually have to partake in my brother's wedding via Skype. My stress levels and disappointment were so severe that I was whisked out the night before my flight was due to leave to drown my sorrows in 2 for 1 cocktails.
But the miracle swept in, and they opened the airports that very morning and I walked down the aisle after all.
Now a measly five inches of snow and more forecasted bad weather is threatening to leave me stranded and alone in London for Christmas. After I busted my ass to get all of my Christmas shopping done in time and braved the streets of Oxford Circus...
So I'm crossing my fingers and hoping like mad to score a hat-trick. Because despite my flatmate offering to wrap up random items in our house for me to open up on Christmas Day (Thanks Suey) - I really want to go home this year.
A photo of the very empty Heathrow Express train carriage the morning the airports opened after the ash cloud crisis. I showed up 4 hours early expecting a mad mob - this is what I was greeted with
My ride to my brother's wedding - I'd never been so happy to board a plane.... I'll be even happier when/if I board a plane this Friday afternoon
Saturday, 18 December 2010
and so it begins...
oh the weather outside is frightful, and my bed is so delightful (and warm!) and since we've got no place to go....
actually no, screw that I have a million things to do and I seriously need to get out of this bed.
One week til Christmas. I can't believe it's crept up on us so fast.
And as for gifts? I've gotten a zillion things for my two adorable nieces and nothing for the rest of the family. Sorry family.
And London Marathon training? I've only missed a few of my runs... and by a few, I mean half. Thankfully I'm ahead of my 16 week schedule, but that doesn't mean that I should slack off.
On some more positive news, I am now 1% closer to my target goal of raising 1,600 GBP for the London Marathon - go me!
actually no, screw that I have a million things to do and I seriously need to get out of this bed.
One week til Christmas. I can't believe it's crept up on us so fast.
And as for gifts? I've gotten a zillion things for my two adorable nieces and nothing for the rest of the family. Sorry family.
And London Marathon training? I've only missed a few of my runs... and by a few, I mean half. Thankfully I'm ahead of my 16 week schedule, but that doesn't mean that I should slack off.
On some more positive news, I am now 1% closer to my target goal of raising 1,600 GBP for the London Marathon - go me!
Wednesday, 24 November 2010
This is what a bad day at the office looks like
1 Pair of Black leather ankle boots with silver buckles - Russell & Bromley
1 pair of perfectly faded skinny jeans - Anthropologie sale section
1 dark blue long cardigan - Anthropologie sale section
1 knee length grey tweed skirt with pockets - Anthropologie sale section
...clearly if I'm having a bad day, I need to stay clear of Regent Street.
1 pair of perfectly faded skinny jeans - Anthropologie sale section
1 dark blue long cardigan - Anthropologie sale section
1 knee length grey tweed skirt with pockets - Anthropologie sale section
...clearly if I'm having a bad day, I need to stay clear of Regent Street.
Sunday, 21 November 2010
we be huntin' wabbits
Just a quick post - it's been a hell of a weekend.
However, I must tell you all of my latest achievement. My crowning glory and triumph of having won the 'Bunny Hunt 2010' with my partner in crime - Dutch Alex.
The Bunny Hunt Game:
Take one girl dressed in a full bunny costume, another in a police uniform get-up. Throw in 8 other friends and lots of beer. Give bunny girl and police officer a wad of cash and then set them free into the bars and pubs of London.
Then throw back a 6-pack of beer before setting off in teams of two through the streets of London to find said bunny. Winner gets the remaining prize money that the bunny and cop haven't spend, but more importantly, they win bragging rights.
Any bar that the teams run and later on will stumble into to find the bunny cannot be vacated until each person has one drink, or in the case of some teams, shots.
Like I said... it's been a hell of a weekend :)
However, I must tell you all of my latest achievement. My crowning glory and triumph of having won the 'Bunny Hunt 2010' with my partner in crime - Dutch Alex.
The Bunny Hunt Game:
Take one girl dressed in a full bunny costume, another in a police uniform get-up. Throw in 8 other friends and lots of beer. Give bunny girl and police officer a wad of cash and then set them free into the bars and pubs of London.
Then throw back a 6-pack of beer before setting off in teams of two through the streets of London to find said bunny. Winner gets the remaining prize money that the bunny and cop haven't spend, but more importantly, they win bragging rights.
Any bar that the teams run and later on will stumble into to find the bunny cannot be vacated until each person has one drink, or in the case of some teams, shots.
Like I said... it's been a hell of a weekend :)
Monday, 15 November 2010
A Toast to the Eurostar Man
My fourth grade math teacher once wrote on my report card - "Irene is a very caring and bright child, but she needs to work on her attention to detail."
Those three words - attention to detail - would continue to follow me from simple algebra onto university, personal life and work.
Send emails without attachments? Yup
Show up on Wilson Road instead of Wilson Street, making me almost half an hour late for my date? Happened last week.
It seems like I rush through life without taking note of the little things, the small details. Typically this doesn't really matter, except for this past weekend...
I was due to travel via Eurostar to Belgium with a few friends. Taking after my father, I showed up at St. Pancras station much earlier than I needed to. But I like the feeling of having loads of time to get a coffee and relax before checking in for travel.
Upon meeting up with my travel companions, myself and one other noticed that our train was delayed. There it was in big capital letters - BELGIUM: DELAYED ONE HOUR.
After a little grumbling, we settled down to breakfast. Still relaxed. Still chilled out.
45 minutes later we walked up to the Eurostar gate.
Strangely enough, our ticket wouldn't scan. Upon closer examination, the Eurostar man said "I'm sorry, but your train left"
There were shouts of protests -
"But it said delayed on the board"
"We've been here for over an hour now!"
Which was followed by the Eurostar man asking us which board said this...to which I triumphantly replied "That one!" pointing my index finger at the big capital letters that said "BELGIUM DELAYED ONE HOUR".
And there it was, just half an inch above where my finger was pointing at, in even bigger capital letters, the word "ARRIVALS".
Perhaps it was the prospect of dealing with four tearful (in my case, sobbing) girls that stirred some strings of sympathy in the Eurostar man, but he directed us to the ticket office whereupon we were booked onto the next train out to Brussels at no extra charge.
With that, I strolled up to the Champagne Bar in St Pancras, and amidst the trains rolling in and travellers spilling onto the platform, I toasted the wonderful Eurostar man.
Despite the mishap, the trip to Belgium was a wonderful albeit hazy 30 something hours of delicious beers, even better frites and countless chocolate shops.
As for train travel? I learned my lesson. Reading the wrong board? A rookie mistake surely. And even with that, we all agreed that going via Eurostar was a much more civilised way of touring the continent. For one thing, train carriages that rock from side to side make most people pass out. That means no annoying person sitting beside you who wants to talk for the entire journey.
Also, people just seem nicer on trains. Perhaps it's because they haven't been up at the crack of dawn to catch a bus to the airport, only to stand in a huge line for security and get stuck behind that person who has a bottle of water in their bag, keeps their belt and shoes on and has a piggy bank of change in their pocket.
All in all, it was a pretty amazing first foray into Belgium.
Those three words - attention to detail - would continue to follow me from simple algebra onto university, personal life and work.
Send emails without attachments? Yup
Show up on Wilson Road instead of Wilson Street, making me almost half an hour late for my date? Happened last week.
It seems like I rush through life without taking note of the little things, the small details. Typically this doesn't really matter, except for this past weekend...
I was due to travel via Eurostar to Belgium with a few friends. Taking after my father, I showed up at St. Pancras station much earlier than I needed to. But I like the feeling of having loads of time to get a coffee and relax before checking in for travel.
Upon meeting up with my travel companions, myself and one other noticed that our train was delayed. There it was in big capital letters - BELGIUM: DELAYED ONE HOUR.
After a little grumbling, we settled down to breakfast. Still relaxed. Still chilled out.
45 minutes later we walked up to the Eurostar gate.
Strangely enough, our ticket wouldn't scan. Upon closer examination, the Eurostar man said "I'm sorry, but your train left"
There were shouts of protests -
"But it said delayed on the board"
"We've been here for over an hour now!"
Which was followed by the Eurostar man asking us which board said this...to which I triumphantly replied "That one!" pointing my index finger at the big capital letters that said "BELGIUM DELAYED ONE HOUR".
And there it was, just half an inch above where my finger was pointing at, in even bigger capital letters, the word "ARRIVALS".
Perhaps it was the prospect of dealing with four tearful (in my case, sobbing) girls that stirred some strings of sympathy in the Eurostar man, but he directed us to the ticket office whereupon we were booked onto the next train out to Brussels at no extra charge.
With that, I strolled up to the Champagne Bar in St Pancras, and amidst the trains rolling in and travellers spilling onto the platform, I toasted the wonderful Eurostar man.
Despite the mishap, the trip to Belgium was a wonderful albeit hazy 30 something hours of delicious beers, even better frites and countless chocolate shops.
As for train travel? I learned my lesson. Reading the wrong board? A rookie mistake surely. And even with that, we all agreed that going via Eurostar was a much more civilised way of touring the continent. For one thing, train carriages that rock from side to side make most people pass out. That means no annoying person sitting beside you who wants to talk for the entire journey.
Also, people just seem nicer on trains. Perhaps it's because they haven't been up at the crack of dawn to catch a bus to the airport, only to stand in a huge line for security and get stuck behind that person who has a bottle of water in their bag, keeps their belt and shoes on and has a piggy bank of change in their pocket.
All in all, it was a pretty amazing first foray into Belgium.
Wednesday, 3 November 2010
Faking it...
It's taken many years of practice, but I've become the master at faking it....
Honestly - I really thought I was good at faking until tonight's orchestra rehearsal. For some odd reason they decided to seat me up at the front, beside the concertmaster. This really means nothing in terms of my actual playing ability (which is pretty awful), but meant that I'm under even more scrutiny.
You'd think that under this added pressure I would put more effort into practicing. Obviously it doesn't - and as a result, I'm probably only able to play about 60% of the music. Even with that, I'm sure most of those notes are off by at least a tone.
In the last few weeks of rehearsals, I've gotten extremely good at following the concertmaster and imitating his movements. As a result, I look like I know what I'm doing. And with over 10 other players in my section, I can usually play quietly enough that my wrong notes remain quite hidden.
That is until tonight when my worst nightmare struck. The conductor in a purely sadistic, evil gesture, decided that we would play one by one, a particularly difficult passage in front of the entire orchestra.
...I'm still scarred by the experience.
I may even pick up my violin this week and practice.
Honestly - I really thought I was good at faking until tonight's orchestra rehearsal. For some odd reason they decided to seat me up at the front, beside the concertmaster. This really means nothing in terms of my actual playing ability (which is pretty awful), but meant that I'm under even more scrutiny.
You'd think that under this added pressure I would put more effort into practicing. Obviously it doesn't - and as a result, I'm probably only able to play about 60% of the music. Even with that, I'm sure most of those notes are off by at least a tone.
In the last few weeks of rehearsals, I've gotten extremely good at following the concertmaster and imitating his movements. As a result, I look like I know what I'm doing. And with over 10 other players in my section, I can usually play quietly enough that my wrong notes remain quite hidden.
That is until tonight when my worst nightmare struck. The conductor in a purely sadistic, evil gesture, decided that we would play one by one, a particularly difficult passage in front of the entire orchestra.
...I'm still scarred by the experience.
I may even pick up my violin this week and practice.
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