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Ticket to Ride

Plans! Got the passport, got the two-year working holiday visa, and today Rhi and I picked up the one-way tickets. We leave Australia at the end of March. Look out world!

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UPDATE:  Here are some answers to your questions… How long have you been plotting this and why didn’t you tell me, biatch? We’ve been gearing up for this for almost longer than I’ve been writing WNP, which is a freaking long while. And I didn’t mention it because I don’t like mentioning things until I feel really sure about them because always seems to turn to shit as soon as you sprout about it (which is why you’ll never hear about my pathetic Lurve Life). Even now I think I shall be run over by a tractor tomorrow for opening my big trap. How did this happen? Sometime in 2000, my sister returned from a year in the USA and said unto me, “I don’t want to live in Canberra for long, I shall surely perish. Want to go overseas with me?”. I said, “Me?” and she said, “Yes you, dickhead” and I said, “I can’t do that” and she said, “Sure you can” so I said “Okay”. So we decided on the UK because they have that nifty two-year working holiday visa. Why Edinburgh? The accents really really really butter my muffin. Also, after weighing up the pros and cons of various British cities, it seemed like a nice place to base ourselves. And I am too much of a pussy for London. Are you stalking Rory? Nooooo! What are your travel plans? Where are you planning on going? Well the idea is to just get over there and find some work and find somewhere to live, then travel a bit, work travel work travel, until the two years are up. We have no definite plans, got any ideas? Want to give two delightful young Aussies a tour of your town? We have no freakin’ idea what we’re doing or what will happen. Hehe. Will you keep blogging? Sure. Have Harvey, will travel. Will you withdraw from the Bloggie contest for Best Aussie/NZ Weblog since you’re leaving the country and therefore you’re not a real Australian and you don’t deserve it anyway because you’re not a proper blog and you suck and besides, you’ve been nominated before? Hehe. Why are you leaving when you finally have a really great job and the most kickass friends in the universe? I have no idea why. Because I’m an idiot? Also there’s a need to get out of my comfort zone and stop being such a wimp. All the crazy crap that happened over the last year or so that’s made me realise you just have to get out there and live a little while you can. Woo, I say!

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About Shauna Reid

Ahoy there! I’m an author, copywriter and old school blogger. I love telling stories about life and helping my clients to tell theirs. Find out more about me and how we can work together.


87 thoughts on “Ticket to Ride

  1. yay for you!! you must be all excited-like!! Shame you are leaving so early with me only just moving back to Canberra… but the way things are going I’ll still be here if you ever return 🙂 You will probably find your knight in shining armor over there… one with a sexy pommy accent!! If you do find one can you see if he has a single brother for moi? 😛

  2. YAY!

    I know a lot of people read this site, and I think it’d be fitting we sent off Shauna with the title of best au/nz blog for 2003.

    Go here: http://www.fairvue.com/?feature=awards2003

    …and vote for Miss Shauna for best au/nz blog 2003. Because really, we all know she’s the best, brightest, funniest, most astute blogger this nation has.

    If you appreciate beatifully constructed honest content, over pretty pictures and sugary layouts, you’ll be hitting that link and voting your sweet asses off for Shauny!

  3. I mean, yes, that’s good, that you’ve got your shit together and doing it. Pity I’m a bit old and washed up for the working visa thing.

  4. Ooh, very nice. Singapore Airlines, no less.

    Guess who’s gonna be on holiday in bonny Scotland in July? Finally, we _might_ be able to meet.

  5. nooooooo! it rains, and it’s cold and stuff

    *g* will be good to have you in this hemisphere, they can use all the Aussies they get!

  6. Since no one else is going to mention how remarkable it is that Shauny is setting foot upon three continents to get to Edinburgh (hopefully with modest time to obtain a sausage in Frankfurt), let me note that this very positive step forward is admirable not only in its scope, but also in its circuitous route. It is my belief that if you are traveling halfway around the world, you should make your way there as indirectly as possible, preferably stopping in at least 234 places. This gives you ample time to study the stunning interiors of airports, paying careful attention to folkways and strange sociological habits (hopefully, this does not involve being pickpocketed) or even getting confused with a European, as I was once at de Gaulle.

    She had said something in German to me, then began speaking in French. She was a very sexy woman in her early thirties, with noticeable decolletage and a chemise that was unsuccessful in defying the curves of her body. That was probably the intention.

    She smiled at me. (At that time, I smoked, which I supposed put me into some unspoken VIP Status among the French.) And it looked that courtesy of my Dutch-German ancestry, I was getting very close to a Krause-Griffiths “Six Feet Under” moment, or at the very least some fun flirtation. She said something to me in French. I smiled and said, “Oui,” not understanding a single word of what she was saying. She said something again to me in French. At this point, I concluded that my one-word French vocabulary would probably not get me very far. She was either telling me that she wanted to boff me silly or bash my head in with a shovel. Either way, I figured that the results would be interesting.

    But since the end of her last sentence was raised upwards in tone, as if a question, I was forced to reply in English. This resulted in the dancing glee from this lady’s eyes being removed faster than you can say, “You know, the bourgeois ain’t really THAT bad,” and two simple words departing from her lips:

    “Stupid American.”

    Defaulting into Mr. American, the typical object of Parisian disgust, I then asked this lady if she knew where I could exchange my dollars for francs so that I could purchase a drink or even buy her one. (In Amsterdam, by contrast, the mantra “Your dollars are good here” encourages the dissemination of foreign currency.)

    But in response, she put her nose up in the air and walked away with a speedy gait, presumably to find another way to pass the time or to go to a East Bank cafe and complain with beret-wearing, chain-smoking intellectuals about how dim California natives are.

    It suddenly occurred to me that I had possibly committed the ultimate faux pas because this lady may very well have been asking me for…ahem…OTHER services. And I, the clueless Yank, had interpreted it otherwise.

    I’ll never know for sure. But I could not have experienced these things had I not had a few stopovers. And I can only imagine how remarkable the results will be for Shauny.

  7. i, too, may very well be on holiday in edinburgh this summer (happy graduation to me!). i’ll keep my eyes and ears peeled for a redhead with an aussie accent.

    congratulations, shauny. you’re doing a very exciting thing! (reminds me of when i chucked everything to go to aus… *good times* *weeps*)

  8. heh! yeah i’ll blog about it! that’s the whole idea, innit? skip the country so you’ll have new things to write about? 😛

    actually the whole idea is the accents. indecipherable foxy accents. bring it ONNNN!

  9. what the? when did this happen? how did this happen? why is the foxy flaming redhead leaving our shores for the cold and dark motherland? (remember, i lived there for 7 years!) we need answers miss shauny, answers!

  10. the problem with that is, totally selfish of course, but will you still be blogging up a storm? hmmm? you better be.

    Especially if you win the bloggie. (btw, I while I dont believe in the bloggies, I have used 18 different email addresses to make sure my favs get a look in)

  11. what the? when did this happen? how did this happen? why is the foxy flaming redhead leaving our shores for the cold and dark motherland? (remember, i lived there for 7 years!) we need answers miss shauny, answers!

  12. I second the “What the?” and raise it some.

    You kept that one quiet. First, you’re in Canberra doing a Joan of Arc imitation then you’re off.

    March – prepare for cold and dreary. I’d imagine Edinburgh is much friendlier than London though.

    Bon voyage!

    Scott F 🙂

  13. or is in reference to the fires? she got burned didn’t she?

    bloody hell, why didn’t i pay attention in history and/or watch that craphouse movie with Mila Jovoovovovoich?

  14. Can I have the bagpipes when you’re done crying over them?

    I wish I could come with you. *sigh* But I can’t – I’m waiting for Godot.

  15. Hooray for you, Miss Shauny! Maybe I’ll have to get a job that pays money and make my way over to London/Edinburgh sometime later this year…hrm…heh. I miss you so terribly! Geez! It isn’t fair. You’re such great company you make me think my friends here are just a notch below the faboo Aussies, ESPECIALLY Miss Shauny, the Ringleader. Hrm…Ringleader…that’s a good title for ya, missy. Or should I say lassie? 😉

  16. ROCK!

    You could vote for Shauny in the Bloggies, but you know, babygirl’s been there and done that already. (I already voted anyhow.)

    I am so excited for you! Can’t wait to use your towel…

  17. Wow! Hooray! Yeah! Groovy! (Hmmm, I’ll have to find some other adjectives to use. I think I use ‘groovy’ just too much.)

    😀

    Hmm, east to west… Is it the ‘do it all in twenty-four hours’ type flight? Two short days and one short night, or maybe the other way around, if I remember correctly. If you have trouble sleeping during the night bits, you can always look for new constellations that you’ve never seen before. That’s what I did. Oh! And thunderstorms from overhead at night are really good!

    And yes, as a previous commenter said: make sure you get plenty of bags of peanuts! I got so many on the way to Australia, that I had to throw some of them away in the airport at Sydney.

    Anyway: Scotland! You’re making me jealous and nostalgic all at the same time 🙂

  18. I voted for you in the Bloggies. But gosh, even if you don’t win you are still the best blog. Man, contests are stupid.

    I want you to win, anyway.

    Are you traveling around the world? No fair! Have a great time…

  19. ROCK!

    Shauny, that is so fantastic and excitement-plus!

    Curiously enough, just last night I looked up all the Visa stuff, too, and we’ve set the date as August 24 to piss off to the UK. I’ll have to come homie out with you there if we don’t meet on home soil!

    Woooooooooooooooooo!

  20. well no itinerary as of yet. it’s a working holiday, so you work a little, travel a little… we decided to base ourselves in Edinburgh. I have no idea what will happen. Isn’t that great?

    So many questions to answer here! I will post something later 🙂

  21. The downside to this is that even if the Bloggies have a category next year for ‘Best Weblog Started in Canberra in May 2000 by an Australian Who Now Lives in Edinburgh’, I’ll *still* lose to Shauny.

  22. shauny, if you meet a man, try not to do as i did and meet the only damn male in the UK who doesn’t desperately want to live in Australia!

  23. c’mon shorners, tell us more about what you’re planning on doing over there. i don’t care if we’re interrupting your australia day lamington breakfast.

    x

  24. If Graham is “creepy” or “creepier,” the n I have to be the Ted Bundy of WNP commenters. Come on, people, give yourselves more lattitude for what constitutes creepiness. Has Graham ever once talked to you in a seething Peter Lorre voice? Has he displayed a gleeful psychopathic quality eerily similar to Lawrence Tierney?

    Graham creepy? Jesus, you people are ALMOST as bad as some of the bland goons here in the States who interpret anything quirky as the beginnings of an unsound mind. (The kind of people who would name names during McCarthyism and who would declare the guy with the mysterious bottle in his inseam a “terrorist” under the Citizen TIPS idea. Never mind if the hypothetical man enjoys placing his bottle there and he harms no one, save those afraid of the Almighty Penis. Some people have to learn life lessons the hard way.)

    As for Shauny’s new beau, I suspect that she’s going to surprise us all with an eccentric choice. My bets are on Seamus Hiltonburger, a 27 year old farmer in Glasgow who will evince a sensitive side after Shauny has fallen for some hip young Edinburgh scoundrel with a terrible smiling habit. Hiltonburger’s bucolic quality and strange interest in animal hygiene products will reveal an unexpected cultural surplus that will encourage the Lovely Ms. Marsh to publish her first novel, “They Put on Lip Balm Before Playing Tennis” with a Hot Young Writer acclaim unseen since Zadie Smith. With the Marsh-Hiltonburger power base firmly locked in the UK (Hiltonburger will dominate the nonfiction bestseller list with his unexpected memoir, “A Backbreaking Work of Staggering Humility”), Ms. Marsh will be prevented from communicating with the fans who stuck with her in the early days by publicists who aren’t capable of exhaling. Said publicists will also demand that Ms. Marsh change her eating and sleeping schedule, which will result in a tell-all Guardian expose in which she reveals to the world the hollow core of the publishing industry. Literary luminaries such as Martin Amis and Ian McEwan will rush to her support, which will lead Shauny Marsh to form The Three Writers, a strange concert act in which the literary trio sings opera to the best of their respective abilities.

  25. Great, all I need now is for Wil Wheaton to move in next door and I stand no chance of winning next year… because I’ll be in jail for killing Wil Wheaton.

  26. Yay for Shauny! Travel is food for the soul, even the kind where they steal you heart, and then your wallet! Her’s hoping neither of these things happen to you!

  27. You’re suggesting that that portrayal of Joel Cairo was creepy? Fuck’s sake, man, Lorre’s creepy cachet was lost when he started making flicks in English, and well and truly buried when his voicebox was appropriated for McCain’s adverts.

    Creepiness? Some truths are held to be self-evident.

    But then, maybe “quirky” and “trying too hard” are the same thing for some other esteemed pundits here, mayhap?

    And Martin Amis? Literary icon? Fucking hell. The only notable thing about that hack is his advance-paid bridgework and the bitchslappathons that he and Julian Barnes engage in when their PR levels fall below an acceptable ‘fawn’ level. Jesus.

  28. Luke: Well, who pissed in your coffee?

    I’m guessing you’ve never seen Stranger on the Third Floor, released one year before the black bird, in which Lorre is nothing less than gloriously creepy. The film is short, unlike my comments. And it has the great Elisha Cook to boot.

    And if you have that literal of a mind concerning my remark about literary icons, well then someone needs to let off a seltzer bottle in your face so you understand the concept of satirical advocacy.

  29. Pissing in my coffee? Sounds like you’re pissing in the wind, more like, Ed.

    But I really doubt, given the fact that Lorre’s voice has become analogous with slightly dorky or ineffectual – rather than creepy – that anyone could have a heartstopping moment in a phone-call from an Austro-Hungarian emigre. Then again, you may be creeped out by him. That’s fine; I’m creeped out by Barney the dinosaur and The Teletubbies. As far as the film goes: photography over performance, says I.

    As for the last bit… that was meant to be satire? Sounded like flatulence to me, Ed. Maybe you should invest in literary antacids. Perhaps point three of my last comment would apply, eh?

  30. I’d just like to point out I have no idea what anyone is talking about, but, just so I fit in, here is a short history essay I did in uni.

    Woolf’s view of the times in which he lived.

    In his 1930 study of his times, Woolf aims to articulate exactly what that “something” (p.19) is that happened to the world in August 1914. In methodical terms Woolf describes the real human cost of war, without implying the vitriolic, nationalistic terms such as ‘sacrifice’, and ‘victory’. Interestingly, after describing the way in which countries forced people into war, and suffering; he then labels them ‘civilized nations’ (p.19). He takes an industrialised view of war, emphasising that the people involved in war took upon the occupation of ‘combatants’; and that following the war, the world was financially poorer than before it.

    Switching from the physical/material cost of the war, to the mental/ideological causes explanations of the war, Woolf imparts his impressions of communal psychology’s baring upon the war. He believes that the ideologies and politics of long dead national heroes, particularly in the instance of the Germans and the Russians, played an immense role in the creation and theory of the war. Communal beliefs led whole nations to perceive the war and it’s causes in a certain, favourable way; and were rarely debated, as it afforded a starving soiled people the opportunity to the lay the blame for their suffering squarely at the feet of a recognised enemy.

    *No correspondance will be entered into

  31. (Go Scotty, Go!)

    I’m also not quite sure what’s going on, the extent of my popular literature and fillum begins and ends with ‘all your base are belong to us’, however, I’m certainly with and for whatever Luke’s saying and hereby declare myself his bitch.

  32. Luke: So let’s see. We have a fantastic actor with a seething exotic-sounding voice, employed to menacing and comic effect by noir directors in films by directors as disparate as Alfred Hitchcock, Josef van Sternburg, and Michael Curtiz, and your wholesale lack of film knowledge is exceeded only by your still inexplicable ad hominen tactics.

    I guess that fez-wearing idiots are bound to be angry when they haven’t had an erection since 1995. In which case, Luke can borrow my penis for the weekend, if it helps to keep his own private little yellow fountain from boucning off his furrowed brow and dribbling down his chin.

  33. (Ye gods, someone actually asked you that? None of your readers even look at my site apart from Ed and Bill, as far as I can tell. Shauny had dibs on Edinburgh first, everyone!)

  34. Rory — noone asked me that. I’ve just had people take little swipes at me over the Bloggies so I thought I’d go nyahhh in their general direction.

    So people… how bout we get back to pretending we actually read the entries and make the comments about commenting on the entry, eh? Or if we can’t manage that, how bout we make them about kissing my arse. Heh heh heh.

  35. And I am too much of a pussy for London.

    *cough* somehow, despite being a major pussy, i’ve survived for nigh on 5 years here. but Edinburgh does sound like a great place to live.

  36. Whoo, go Shauny. If you ever end up near Hell* Hull, do let me know because random weblog meet ups are always fun, y’hear.

    *only one letter away, it’s a common mistake. People get here and go “oh my god, so this is where Milton Keyes is twinned with!”

  37. Sweeeeet … Shauny is going on a World, um I mean Scotland, tour. At least you did not decide to come to Canada during the winter time. Right now it is a balmy -3C. Anyhoo congrats and have yourself the time of your life. 😀

    Mind you Singapore Airlines is second to none (well maybe Lufthansa) and I am not talking about food. Try not to chew gum in S’pore. 😀

  38. Edinburgh is amazing (and that’s not just my Scottish genes talking). It’s a beautiful place, even in the middle of winter. And make sure you go to the Hogmanay (New Year) street party!

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