12hrs to go!

So, just a short post to say that it's just dawned on me that this whole thing is getting pretty real now. Last night was my last in Cornwall, before driving up to London with Mum and Dad today for a stopover in a hotel before "the off". 

I fly at 10 tomorrow morning, so it's a 6am alarm to get everything together and hit the airport in plenty of time. I'm currently feeling an equal mix of apprehension, nerves and excitement at the thought of embarking on my first lone flight, let alone the fact that it's 18 hours long and the last time I'll see England for ten months. However, these mixed emotions have been slightly alleviated by my cousin Sean, who informs me that a flight with Emirates is pretty cushty; they even give you a blanket, slippers and a toothbrush, what more could you want?! I love flying as it is and can't wait to do the whole thing on my own.

Dropping Murphy off at the kennels this morning was bad enough (although he was more interested in finding some bums to sniff than bidding me a safe journey), so I dread to think what tomorrow will be like leaving my parents behind at security! The next time I write, I will hopefully be on the other side of the world after a safe and stress-free flight.

Bon voyage, England!

Goodbyes: Round III

One great thing about going away for an extended period of time is getting the family together for a big send off and, when it comes to my family, big is definitely the appropriate word. My Mum thrives on hosting events like this and was immediately on board with the organising; I could see little Aussie-themed ideas sprouting in her head with every passing second, so felt okay with sitting back and spending every waking second working at the café when she took the reins.

Despite the solid preparations in place, we still found ourselves wandering around Bude in the drizzle on Saturday in search of balloons/fancy dress/an inflatable shark. They only had the first of these items; disappointing, considering the only reason we braved the dreary old hellhole was that the fancy dress shop was supposed good. Back at home, we simultaneously put up decorations and drank some very strong Pimms that auntie Ruth sneakily prepared; the latter made the former quicker and more fun, but Mum did smash the clock onto the floor while balancing on a chair to put up Australian bunting.

Family/friends arrived in dribs and drabs after that; drinks flowed and it was lovely to catch up with everyone. It was awesome to finally meet Alfie and Ryan, the two little boys who my auntie and uncle, Sarah and Ian, adopted a few months ago when I was at uni. Alfie had researched loads of cute facts about Australia and they asked if I could smuggle them in my suitcase. Adorable! I also got my first Australian dollars, which have awesome see-through/decorated panels in them (I get excited by this sort of thing). As people dispersed, us youths decided we'd make an impromptu trip to Tintagel to savour the hardcore party scene while we could. By this time, Jennifer was rather far gone (the rest weren't far behind) and a lot of dancing was done in the Cornishman, accompanying several rounds, including my old friend the Jågerbomb (so disgusting). The cricket lot were out too, including hilarious PE teacher, semi-alcoholic and all-round offensive bloke Mr Brown. We got a taxi back at 1 and I had to work hungover on the Sunday, a situation I try my best to avoid as I am absolutely hopeless when feeling rough and Grip bullies me. Just as my head was feeling as if it was ready to cave in, the family and the Burnards turned up for lunch and to brighten my day. After sampling the delights of Strand Café food, it was time to bid farewell to Jen, Brett, Ruth and my darling big brother Jord, who were all driving back up to Derby together. Great to see everyone!

Normal-looking gents in Tintagel...

Goodbyes: Round II

Today, I ventured to good old Bath to bid farewell to my lovely housemates from the past two years, with the exception of Rach, who had to work. However, considering she has a holiday cottage less than two minutes away from my house, she has assured me that she'll be in Cornwall before I go (she'd better; I don't think I even cried when I said goodbye to her after her birthday in Exeter). Stepping off the train into the city was so nostalgic; it's a beautiful place and I'm so glad I chose to study there.

It was an unexpectedly boozy day. Tapas for three and sticky toffee pudding at the Cosy Club was accompanied by a bottle of rosé; I've never eaten there before but their al fresco dining on the balcony overlooking the streets was top notch.

We then wandered around aimlessly trying to fill the gap before Julian's train got in (he overslept, shock horror). We then headed for the Cork for an obscenely overpriced Rekorderlig (£4.35 - welcome back to Bath), which I had to chug to make my train back. It pains me to leave a glass with alcohol still in it, but needs must, and even half finished I found myself a little squiffy, having completely lost my tolerance since leaving uni for the summer. Here is where I had to say goodbye. Chris will be on placement at a High Performance Centre in Birmingham (surrounded by super athletes - awesome), whereas Julian's dual language course takes him to both Strasbourg and Madrid. They'll both have amazing years and I can't wait to catch up on all our news when we return.

If there's anyone who's even worse at this stuff than me, it's my twin, Chloe. We were put in the same Marlborough flat in freshers' year and the second we realised we were also on the same course (about six weeks before actually setting eyes on each other - the wonders of Facebook), we've spent all day, every day together. This only intensified in second year, where the time getting to and from campus and whittling away free periods was added to the hours of lectures and attempting a "group effort" at lab reports and deadlines! Despite my mocking of her Brum (sorry, Walsall) accent/Bridget Jones-esque faux-pas and her calling me a posho from time to time, she genuinely is my ultimate best friend and I don't know how I'll cope without her for a whole year. She gave me an adorable card with a lovely message and a picture of the two of us inside it, which I plan to stick on the wall of my flash new Perth pad:

I got home in time to go to my friend Kayleigh's fundraiser for her trip to India. The girl's vaccinating dogs against rabies to save a million children's lives. What a star. We waited at home for some family - plus Jordan, the closest thing I have to a big brother - to arrive, which can only mean one thing: yet more goodbyes tomorrow...

Goodbyes: Round I

With a mere twenty days to go until I depart for the land of kangaroos, the time had come to begin saying goodbye to the people I'm going to miss the most. As a self-confessed sentimental mess at the prospect of leaving everyone behind, I had been shoving the thought to the back of my mind until absolutely necessary. Now is that time.

First up was a trip to Harry's country mansion near Basingstoke, a rare occasion where a nightmarish four-hour train journey surrounded by rowdy football fans was completely worth it. As the only person who couldn't make it on the Friday night, I arrived on Saturday afternoon to find my Bath family visibly hungover, but otherwise in good spirits. As the beverages began flowing again, we enjoyed games of ultimate frisbee (avoiding the wasp nest) and badminton in the Saunders' beautiful garden, interspersed with catching up on everyone's antics.

A quick change for dinner was proceeded by a very intense and slightly tipsy game of croquet, accompanied by ample glasses of Pimm's. This was not a graceful display, nor a sport I had great success with at first and I pitied poor Sam, who had to venture into the bushes to recover my rogue shots. We felt slightly cheated that Freddie, Harry's elder brother, was allowed to play; croquet is clearly a popular activity in the household and Jack was full of the fact that he was one (albeit inactive) half of the winning partnership.

Dinner was comprised of slow-cooked lamb, ratatouille, green beans and new potatoes, followed by fruit pavlova, which was all gorgeous. The wine flowed this time, and after a clumsy tidy up we retired into the garden for further merriment, ending up in the cottage, where the inevitable boozing, drinking games and wrongness ensued. I think I tumbled into bed around 2:30am.

Sunday was gloriously lazy and melancholy in equal measures. Breakfast was a fantastic group effort at a fry up, supplemented by a slice of chocolate cake while we waited (as you do). Between then and my departure for Reading at 6pm, we basically lay down in the shade of the tree with minimal movement, with the exception of dragging ourselves into the kitchen to make sandwiches. During this time, Jack and Dom left us; Jack's going to Nepal around the same time as I leave and, despite him either calling me sloot or crushing me in a sandwich every time we meet, I'm going to miss that african idiot dearly. I will hopefully have the privilege of seeing Dom and Sam in London the night before I fly. Saying goodbye to the others at the end of the day was tough; an obscenely long hug between Rochelle, Lucy and I marked our last contact for a while, but I managed to talk Luce and Patx into considering a trip to Perth during the Easter holidays ;)

With my friends behind me, I hopped on the train home with nothing but a hangover and memories of the weekend for company. Knowing you're leaving the people you've seen every day for two years to explore a different continent is a weird concept, but I'm hoping that being on the other side of the world will be enough of a distraction to avoid being too depressed about it! Next up on my goodbyes list is a day in Bath with my lovely housemates, so god knows how I'll cope with that!

Missing my babies already!