White Party and THE VIDEO

Initially, my goodbye party was supposed to be on the roof of my house and we were going to keep it low-key and low-budget. Unfortunately, my pinche landlords had a different idea and in spite of the fact that we gave them three weeks notice about the party, they cancelled just five days before.

Luckily our new plan turned out to be even better. A friend of mine suggested that we rent an island in Xochimilico for the night, where we could camp and drink and make as much noise as we liked without the concern of neighbours or trashing someone's house. Image Mexican Venice in the countryside, without the glam and romance, but rather an entirely different kind of beauty.

My friend Geovanni's cousin works on the boats that take you to these islands, which are more like long floating rafts which you row with a big stick, so she took us there at not too much expense. We all dressed in white (embarrassingly inspired by the white party in Gossip Girl) and popped champagne as we went, all looking very classy and sophisticated for at least the first ten minutes. We also managed to get some really beautiful picture before everyone got too messy.

As you can see the most part consisted of alcohol, glitter fights, face paint and kinda looking like we were at a hippy wedding. But it was beautiful and fun, until later when the usual drama started but we'll just forget about that part.

And now the moment you've ALL been waiting for... my highlights video from Mexico and that trip to the States I took almost a year ago. I hope you enjoy it and if you do, let me know, so I can make more of my future trips. (I mean I'm gonna do it anyway, I just won't share them with you...)

First Weeks in Berlin

I have now been in Berlin for just over two weeks for my second study abroad placement. I'm still homeless and living between a friend's couch and a hostel, still can't for the life of me remember how to speak German and am lamenting the fact that as I am no longer able to drink alcohol, I can't taste the beauty that is German beer. Aside from the slight downsides and the fact that an old lady confronted me in the street the other day calling me 'common' because I'm English, I have been able to have at least a little bit of fun, plus I suppose alcohol-free beer isn't allllllll that bad.

On my first night in the city my lovely friend Imogen came to meet me for a pizza and a beer in Friedrichsschain. It was an absolute lifesaver because after a 12 hour flight followed by a quick 24 hour pit stop in London, which was crazy-busy full of catching up with and seeing friends, I was pretty exhausted and disorientated. Not to mention the jet lag which hit me harder than it ever has done before! Even without alcohol, my first German beer was glorious and after almost a year of sleeping on a mattress on the floor, my comfy hostel bed was pretty darn luxurious. I'm staying in a hostel called Plus Hostel Berlin, which I would highly recommend - it's cheap, well located AND it even has a pool!

As I have been to Berlin before (see posts Berlin Meat Sweats and East Side Gallery), I've already done a lot of the main tourist sights. However, when I came last year I fell down some stairs in a club and messed up my ankle (I can thank my old friend Paul for that one), so couldn't walk very far on the last day and missed a couple of key things.

EMILY AND GREG WERE REUNITED (he's doing his study abroad here!) at Checkpoint Charlie, which I'm sorry to say was kind of cool but a little underwhelming... I have, however, heard good things about the museum which I am yet to venture into, so I'll update on that when I finally get around to it.

I finally saw some real life Trabis which were THE car of East Germany before the reunification (I say THE car but in fact it was THE only car you could have... communism and all that) Anyway, I think they're cute but we couldn't go into the museum because Greg is a boring sod and wanted a beer, plus I'm super poor right now, so I probably couldn't have afforded it anyways. Also, I should probably note that they weren't this colour in the DDR...

We also made it to Potsdamer Platz, which is famous for some reason that I can't remember because I am an awful German student, so I have been super kind and linked Wikipedia for you, in case you are interested. The area isn't particularly special; lots of tall office buildings makes it feel a bit like the City of London but I took a photo nonetheless because it makes a good touristy Instagram shot.

I was also lucky enough to receive a visit from my mum and step-dad on my first weekend here (which is another reason why I haven't starved yet. Did I mention how poor I am?) Neither of them have ever visited the city, so we tried to fit in as much sight seeing as we could into two days, wandering from Alexanderplatz, past Humboldt, down Unter den Linden to the Brandenburger Tor, then to the Jewish Memorial and the Reichstag. We also managed to fit in another visit round to Checkpoint Charlie and Potsdamer Platz, so most of the big sights in one day IS possible, it's just a fair bit of walking.

The Jewish Memorial

One of many beer stops a long the way!

Some Berlin graffiti which I love and is everywhere. Expect more pictures like this in future posts.

On the last night they took me out for a traditional German meal of dumplings and sauerkraut and goulash (I know goulash is Hungarian but it was in a traditional German restaurant so it's nearly legit)

Unfortunately because of my pobreza and the fact that I'm not very well at the moment, I haven't been able to go out at all yet. Mostly I've just been going to University, which so far I have thoroughly enjoyed, and have been meeting up with old King's friends. Seeing my pals has probably been the highlight of the move so far; the stories of the past year's adventures in various parts of the world and the old 'in' jokes have made me feel a lot more at ease in a strange and new place.

So here's to another week of 'can you repeat that please?' and insults from random strangers on my lack of class. I move back to the hostel tomorrow for eleven days, before a weekend at home for my beautiful sister Siobhan's hen do (SO EXCITED!!), and fingers crossed I will return to my own place.

Josephine 'Panda' Youd

HAPPY (belated) 21ST BIRTHDAY JOSIE!!!

I cannot believe how young you are and how old I am. Honestly, the novelty of now being legally old enough to drink in the States has loooooong for me and here you are living it large, reminding me of how I'll always be just that little bit closer to zimmer frames and false teeth.

The unstoppable threesome in Budapest. How are we so fit?

Um yer. This happened.

You are indisputably one of the ordinary incredibles in my life. My second mother, dietitian, wannabe lesbian lover, future bridesmaid and fellow travel addict, we've been through more together in our first three years of higher education than any ill-equipped pair of teenagers should go through, yet come out the other side stronger than ever. We've got long distance friendship down. tackled crazy ex-flatmates like pros and survived more than our fair share of ridiculous dramas, which we should definitely write down and sell as a script to Channel 4. Through everything you've been there, my pillar of stability and sanity (well... my kind of sanity), always coaxing me out of my dark holes with  chocolate cheese cake and at times yanking me back to reality with a kind but stern word. You've supported me through various ridiculous hairstyles and questionable outfit choices (even trying some out yourself) as well as the tough stuff, and I know that this isn't a friendship that can be easily broken.

Christmas 2012, I can't even remember why you did this.

Britney LOVING LIFE.

I want to thank you for so many things. For always sticking by me, but not being afraid to tell me when I'm wrong. For being a relentless force of positivity, not only in my life but in the lives of all those who come across you. For your gorgeous smile and victory dances and no-filter silliness that we all love. For teaching me to be more confident about myself and my body. For your unpredictability and hilarious fan-girling that continuously reminds me about the importance about having passion for life. For holding my hand through the difficult times. For never giving up on me, even when I had given up on myself. And for everything that is to come, the good times and the bad, the adventures, the smiles, the tears and the inevitable 8am morning-breath-scented cuddles and bitching sessions about life.

That time in Bratislava that you burned yourself SO BADLY that you looked like a cross between a Teletubby and Cheryl Cole (and I'm referring to her ass tattoo)

Christmas 2013.

Our adventures are some I will never forget. Krakow, Auschwitz, Budapest, Vienna, Bratislava, Belgrade, Sarajevo, Mostar, Dubrovnik, Edinburgh, PRESTON and obviously London *queue Beyoncé - Schoolin' Life*. From eating bull's testicles to receiving life advice from my intoxicated bride-to-be-sister, we've experienced some pretty awesome things together in just a few years of friendship. It's funny, because whilst these three years have flown by, it also feels like I've known you my whole life. I think really do think our friendship is a beautiful thing, not only because it's so unbreakable and real, but also because we are two people who are so undeniably different in so many ways, yet we love each other completely and unconditionally. It's cheesy but true to say you make my life so much brighter and I couldn't be more grateful that your Dad spoke to me that first day in Moonraker and thoroughly embarrassed you trying to set us up as friends. Thanks for that one, Stephen.

That time we went to Mostar.

Sometimes we look alright too.

It's fair to say it's been an incredibly eventful three years and I wouldn't change it for the world, because everything we've been through has made us who we are today. I love you to the moon and back you beautiful human and I'm so excited for everything that's to come and the fact that we get to LIVE TOGETHER AGAIN next year and annoy the shit out of whoever ends up with the pleasure of our company. Here's to another three HUNDRED years of being inseparable (no matter how much ocean is between us), hangovers, heart-to-hearts and screaming Tay-Tay at the top of our lungs. Ich hab dich SO VIEL lieb.

My favourite pic of us.

Oh and just a little extra, to give people who haven't met you yet a little more of an idea of what they're in for. Heh heh heh.

Goodbye for now, Mexico

“I like messy people; people who don’t fit in a box or stay between the lines, but who’s integrity is greater than any rule book and who’s loyalty is stronger than blood.” Jim Wern In April 2014, I made a last minute and rather impulsive decision to give my study abroad year a go. I'd just taken my self off medication (not sensible kids, always speak to your doctor first!) and I was feeling great, so I thought 'fuck it, why not?'. 

I thought I knew exactly what to expect. In first year I lived with loads of exchange students, and I'd witnessed lots of partying, travelling and general debauchery. All the cliché language barriers and culture jokes came up on a regular basis, there was a lot of gossip, tears, laughter and the like. Basically, I'd been given the impression of the typical L'auberge Espagnole year abroad and that all seemed rather appealing to me; a well-earned break from the ongoing stress of the last few years of my life.

I didn't know how wrong I could be. Instead I ended up taking part in a failed uprising, being shot at by police, hitch-hiking through the jungle, living without water, crawling through caves, hiding an illegal immigrant, crying my way through the Guatemalan border control, dropping out of uni due to students being shot on campus, rekindling old friendships and making new ones, meeting a best friend who I love unconditionally (even if she does like to turn people into soap) and falling in love with a bunch of salvajes whilst hiding from my accidental drug-dealer boyfriend in Chiapas, who ended up becoming an unshakeable part of my life in DF (the salvajes, not the accidental boyfriend). And all this on top of the usual language struggles, homesickness and other difficulties that come with being the foreign kid in a new country and kind of sucking at the language.
Ignoring the slight blip at Christmas where I was forced to go home, my stay in Mexico totalled just over 10 months. It'd be a lie to say I loved every minute of it because sometimes it was downright painful (running for our lives, the love triangles, bailing people out of jail...), but I can't say I regret a single second. Not surprisingly, I've learned heaps about myself, not to mention an entirely new culture and way of life. Oh, and I kind of speak Spanish now too, which I suppose was the idea of this all along.

#MOMENTOCHEESY

I don't know how to thank everyone I met enough for the incredible time I've had. I know the bonds we've made are so much stronger that the distance between us (ew did I really just write that? Too many Mexican feelings) and I know we've got many more exciting times ahead. I'll miss la pobreza, chilaquiles and living my life vicariously through Blair Waldorf more than you can imagine. Ahora son todos un parte de mi corazón y sería imposible olvidar como cambió mi vida con ustedes. Los quiero CHINGOS y los veo para mitzear pronto (Franzi y Anthony sólo dos meses!!) I really have found a new home.

**Video coming soon!**

End of the Haitus

It's been exactly four months since I felt I could actually write something on here. It's been a crazy time if I'm honest, and I have good reason for really not knowing how to share my experiences. On top of the uncertainty also came the problem of safety, because although I'm not some big shot blogger with a million followers, some of the things that happened to me, my friends and those around me proved that speaking out can get you into a lot of trouble with the wrong kinds of people.

The last trip I wrote about on here was one I took to Puerto Rico (and Martinique, which I am yet to write about) which happened pretty much exactly when the trouble started here in Mexico. I don't want to write too much about the beginnings of it all now (because it would simply take too long to explain), but here is a post I wrote closer to the time to give you a little more background information:

Ya Me Cansé - An Insight into Mexico's 43

Unfortunately, just two weeks after I submitted this article, I had to leave the country due to the events that had taken place on my university campus. It was an incredibly painful experience for me, having to say goodbye on such short notice to a group of people I had grown to love so much, not knowing when I'd be able to return or if they'd ever be able to come and visit me. I also felt so helpless, having experienced first had in the marches just what the state was/is capable of doing to innocent and peaceful protesters, and entirely unsure of what I'd be able to do from so far away.

I wanted to share some of my photos from the peaceful protests that took place over the time I was here, just to give a little insight into the reality of the situation that the Mexican people were facing. The movement was powerful and strong, but above all it was peaceful, yet that doesn't seem to make the government listen, nor does it stop violent actions against innocent people.

About 10 minutes after the last picture, just before the second wave of running as the police stormed the main square. Gun shots, explosions and people panicking like crazy. We continued running for 10-15 minutes more after this (time gets a bit blurred in my head, it was all a bit surreal).

This is how the state reacts to a peaceful movement.

It's quite a weird experience for me now, writing about all this retrospectively. It was all so real at the time, so intense and emotional and yet for some reason, all that has died down so much since December. I was convinced that I wouldn't be able to come back after Christmas, but now here I am, having lived another two months in the country with hardly a word from the uprising that seemed to be upon us just months ago. It's now a running joke that the revolution took Christmas holidays and didn't really revive itself afterwards. I've heard of marches and meetings around university since I came back, but the spirit hardly seems as strong as before I left. Maybe I'm wrong or just a little out of the loop now, but it already feels like everything we went through is now just part of history, stories to tell and not much more. 

I can say however, that so far I have got so much more than I bargained for from what was supposed to be a chilled out year abroad. Experiencing injustice firsthand is something that us white, privileged westerners are fortunate enough to be able to avoid, sometimes for our entire lives, making it a lot easier to turn a blind eye from problems in the world will never really affect us. I have to admit that over the past few years I lost a lot of my 'change the world' spirit, due to growing up and illness and the numbness of the world, thinking that there is SO much bad, that my wanting to be good would never really make a difference. But what happened here really brought that back in me, and it's back with a vengeance. I am yet to figure out just what that means for my future, what am I going to do or who I am going to be, but I do know that I can no longer continue to sit back and just watch.

Sorry for the disturbances. We are changing the country - WORLD.

In Puerto Rico, we fly kites

Last week I decided to fly the Mexican nest for an adventure a little further afield, to visit my friend Imogen who is currently on her study abroad semester in Martinique. En route I even managed to fit in a cheeky stop over in the lovely island of Puerto Rico, where I couchsurfed one night with an energetic local called Omar, who did an incredible job of showing me around the old town in the short time I had.

It actually took three connecting flights to get to Martinique, which meant I also got to have breakfast in Miami at TGI Friday's. Yuuuuuuummy.

Most of my time in Puerto was spent simply wandering around the town (and I do love a good wander, me) hopping in and out of various bars, cafes and even an arts university. Omar knew just about anyone and everyone we bumped into, making the 'local' experience that I love about couchsurfing all the more authentic. One place in particular that we stopped off at was a bar that had once been Pedro Albizu Campos's house, one of Puerto Rico's most important revolutionaries (if not the most important, or at least that's the impression I got!) It was really interesting for me to see as one of my modules at university is the Revolutions of the 20th Century, and there I was in his house, seeing the bullet holes in the wall and original newspaper clippings from the time.

Some of the street art around the city. Of course I had to get a touristy picture next to the Puerto Rican flag.

Beautiful little cobbled streets and colourful buildings.

Whilst we were sitting having a drink at the plastics school, I noticed there were dozens of kites hanging from the trees in the courtyard. My first thought was that it was some kind of design or artsy statement, after all it is an arts university, but my ponderings were soon answered by Omar as we walked across the beach (which is located just outside the school, making it one of the most picturesque places to study I have ever encountered).

'When you're a kid in the UK, your dad takes you to play soccer, right? And in the States they throw a football. Well here in Puerto Rico, we fly kites.'

Father and son kite flying time.

A good portion of our time was spent exploring what Omar called the 'barrio' which literally translates to 'neighbourhood' or 'suburb'. The difference between the barrio streets and those in the centre of Old San Juan were immediately evident; much more miss-matched and improvised much like those that I've grown accustomed to in my beloved Mexico, splattered with vibrant graffiti creating a unique atmosphere on every corner. It was clear that the houses where not of a government funded project, but each had been individually laboured over by its owner, creating a beautiful maze of colour and shapes as we wound ourselves through the higgledy-piggledy network of homes, corner stores and bars. Perhaps it was the complete rawness of the place and the people, or the utter disorganised organisation that pulsed from every wall, but this is the part of San Juan that really stole my heart. The part that isn't done up for the tourists, but the real, gritty Puerto Rico.

And LOOK where it is located. Just, wow.

.

We continued our tour of the town, stopping by a few bars on the way of course, and thus my sampling of local cuisine began. The food was great, especially this fried plantain/potato/meat combo called 'Alcapuria' (pictured below) and a very fancy looking prawn cocktail with plantain crisps. Basically all the plantains, which is funny for me because the only other Puerto Rican guy I've ever known used to bring plantains to every potluck dinner we had... It would appear that some stereotypes really are true.

Omar telling me to 'pretend to eat it' for the picture, until we realised that it kinda just looked like a giant, deep-fried penis (it is nicknamed 'El Bisexual'), which of course I couldn't stop laughing about for several hours.

Although the food was great I can't say the same for the beer. As Puerto Rico is technically part of the United States (but also not at the same time, apparently not even people from the island understand exactly how this works), unfortunately they have the same crappy 'light beer' that they have in the States, which basically just tastes like beer flavoured water. I'm sorry guys, European beer is still the best. However, unlike in the States, it was relatively inexpensive and they didn't check my I.D. every five seconds, so I suppose I really can't complain too much.

The night continued in a similar vein, more exploring, drinking (apparently the more light beer you drink, the better it starts to taste) and we even met some other couchsurfers in a bar owned by Omar's friend, who we eventually went salsa dancing with. The salsa bar even had a live band in which the majority of the musicians had dreadlocks *swoons*. So despite the fact that by this point I hadn't slept in about 48 hours and I was borderline delirious, I had a pretty awesome night.

The next morning we decided to take a stroll (well, more like a clamber, I'm hardly graceful) across the rocks and corals on the beach.  It was a beautiful morning, the sea air was fresh and inviting and the water endless and full of life. I just love the sea. I don't know if I've ever shared this on here, but my biggest dream is to own my own hostel on a beach, so every time I visit the shore my heart strings are tugged on just a little more. There's something about the water that just calls to me and I can't wait for the day when I don't have to leave.

Our destination was a quiet beach a little way down from the barrio. where we came locals kitted out with their fishing gear and taking a morning paddle.

And this is where the real fun began. We'd timed our little adventure perfectly, to give us enough time for a short swim before returning back to the house, grabbing my bags and heading off to the airport to catch my flight. However, this is me and I like to do stupid things to ruin plans because that's just what I'm good at. Let's just say I learned a very valuable lesson about swimming through coral reefs that morning.

Exhibit A: How to Swim through a coral reef like a pro:

Exhibit B: How to swim through a coral reef like an idiot, not factoring in the salt content in the water making it a lot harder to stay under the water than you're used to, thus causing you to float to the top scratching your back and dragging your hand across a sea urchin which hurts like HELL and almost results in a trip to the hospital just hours before your flight:

How to Treat a Sea Urchin Sting

The picture actually doesn't make it seem so bad, but I promise you it was bloody agony, and I have a pretty high pain threshold. To make matters worse I couldn't actually go to the hospital in Puerto Rico because I didn't actually have health insurance there, and we couldn't get any of the spines out ourselves so I just had to board my flight with a swollen, bloody hand and wait until I arrived in Martinique, which is thankfully part of France (three cheers for European health insurance!). Luckily, it turned out I didn't even need to go to hospital in the end, but in case anyone else finds themselves in a similar situation, I've included the link of how to treat a sea urchin sting above, because it would have been bloomin' useful for me to know this at the time. You live and you learn eh?

So in less than 24 hours I managed to get a whole lot fit in and I really enjoyed my stay. It almost felt like a taster session of the country and I definitely feel like I'll have to return one day!

Mexican Independence, English Teaching and the Caribbean

It's midday and I just caught myself sat on my bed, only half dressed - despite being up for several hours - and eating nutella straight out of the jar with my fingers, so I decided it's probably about time I do something productive with my day. My productive activity of choice just happens to be writing this, because although this is kiiiind of a form of procrastination from my actual work, I like to view it as constructive procrastination... in that one day Lonely Planet will see my blog and give me my dream job and I will no longer have care about translating satirical newspaper articles about political correctness into Spanish. A girl can dream, eh?

Anyway, the last couple of weeks have been rather crazy here. Two weeks ago we had Mexican Independence day, with more parties to attend and more alcohol to consume than humanly possible. Despite the official date of Independence Day being 16^th September, it would appear that just one day of merriment is nowhere near enough for Mexicans, with festivities spanning pretty much the entire week. Too hungover to attend any of the official celebrations (oopsy), I just attended parties of various friends throughout the extended weekend, salsa-ing my heart out as per usual and taking full advantage of the free booze.

Party number two of three for Independence Day. Edgar (in the big hat) has never looked so Mexican.

However, my favourite part about the whole weekend was seeing just how proud Mexicans are, simply of being Mexican. National pride is a relatively alien concept to me, as us Brits tend to be disliked on a pretty international scale for so many things. So the idea of having a day to celebrate how awesome it is just to be British would be completely ridiculous. It'd be like that year that we entered that awful patriotic song in the Eurovision Song Contest with the Union Jack plastered all over the stage and then were given 'nil point' by literally every single country. Also I'm very aware we never had to gain independence and we were the ones running around conquering everyone like we owned the bloody planet... so not cool.

As it was such a mad weekend, I decided to take some time off from any liver-destroying and bank-draining antics and focus on school work and the like...




Don't laugh, I'm being serious.

As well as attempting to start working hard, Franzi and I had the genius idea of advertising ourselves as language teachers for German and English, as we really want to get some travelling done after this term ends and as it stands we might not be able to have the cash to do that.

So we postered like crazy all over campus (no rules against that here, it's awesome), only realising after we'd finished that Franzi had actually provided her name, facebook and phone number to four entire faculties. I swear to God if you put our brains together, maybe we'd just about make one logical person. Or all the stupid stuff would form together and we'd never actually get anywhere in life. Who knows?

But despite this minor setback, it worked! For the first time in my life I'm self-employed (how fancy does that sound?) and so far it's turning out to be really successful. As much as I love hanging out with my friends and meeting people at parties, it actually feels really good to now be doing something productive with my free time. As fun and carefree as student life can be, it's sometimes really positive to have some structure to your days, especially when you only have a three day timetable like I do. It can become dangerously tempting to waste all of your time off on tumblr or catching up on the latest gossip (guilty!) rather than using your time to benefit yourself or the lives of other people around you, and personally, I've found that the more productive you try to be, the easier it becomes. I think I've wrote this before, but life really is about getting the balance between structure and free time just right.

I've also just realised that all this must sound rather amusing after the way this post started off. I promise, I have already left the house and taught two classes today after a rather difficult weekend, so I was just having a bit of me time with my one and only true love i.e. food, before getting back to actually making something of my day. Like I said, balance is important, and for me that balance includes a bit of self-care in the form of an entire jar of Nutella. That OK with you?

The last two weeks also saw the departure of my gorgeous friend Shelly back to Taiwan after her two month trip out here. I met Shelly along with the rest of the London exchange crew back in my first year of university when I was living in those really international student halls. I feel like she fell in love with Mexico just as much as I am doing, and I'm just so glad I got to see her again after such a long time.

At a Cuban salsa club in La Roma, showing the boys how it's done.

Aside from a lot of hanging out at uni a lot, accidentally attending the wrong class for SEVEN weeks (because I'm a super genius) and an accidental party that trashed my bedroom, I haven't got much else to report. I really do want to start doing some more cultural things in the city soon, because I am really settled in now and there is so much to do here. We were actually planning a trip to Puebla last week, a nearby city that is supposed to be stunning, but unfortunately those plans fell through for various reasons. Fingers crossed we'll be able to get organising it for another time though.

After our weekly Wednesday afternoon lunch in Arquitectura. I'm happy because I'm full of chilaquiles (and I suppose the company was alright too)

However, despite our failed Mexican travel plans, in three days time I'll be jetting of to Martinique, to visit my lovely friend Imogen who I study German with at King's. The lucky so and so is studying abroad in the French Caribbean for the first part of her year away, so I'm off to soak up some rays and climb a volcano, and you know, make sure she's doing alright out there. And the trip actually couldn't have come at a better time, as I've recently really been missing home and familiar faces, so it'll be nice to be able to word vomit at someone in the worst English accent ever, without worrying about being misunderstood. Not that I'm not having the time of my life out here, but sometimes things happen when you are away from home and you just need to be back in a familiar setting for a little while. I'm just lucky enough for that familiarish setting to be incredibly near a beach. I also have a day's layover in Puerto Rico on the way, a place I haven't visited since I was about 10 years old, so it'll be interesting to see if I actually remember any of it.