Current music:	Fidelity - Regina Spektor
Entry tags:	doctor who, travel

I really wish you'd stop staring at my breasts.

That was my first thought on the plane out of Melbourne - this ten year old kid was sat in the chair in front of me and he kept swivelling around to look at me through the cracks between the seats. He'd stare freely at my chest, as a ten year old boy does, and then when I'd catch his eye, hoping to get my message of BLOODY HELL WILL YOU STOP!!! across, he'd give me an embarrassed smile and then turn back around. Wash, rinse, repeat.

Ultimately, it didn't matter, because I had more important things to worry about;

like my mother not knowing where her passport was.

This turned out to happen so frequently that I stopped worrying about it. Travelling with someone who wears morphine patches is interesting. Not as interesting as travelling whilst wearing morphine patches, I'll grant (mum's rushing around Dubai airport - the size of a small country itself, whilst we were in transit, trying to borrow nail scissors so that she could cut open her new patch to wear is something I'll not forget.)

Anyway, on with the motley. Here are some (erm, several) snaps from the holiday.



The lovely, the beautiful, the busy; Piazza San Pietro. Mum and I visited it on Sunday morning, which was both brilliant and idiotic; we got to view a service, but with what I think was the entire population of Italy right beside, behind, to our left, to our right, underneath and on top of us. Actually, when we got there, it wasn't too bad. I couldn't help but wonder how all those folks packed themselves in when they were waiting for the white smoke - the entry and exits are closed off but for a select few gaps in the gate.



Piazza Navona - The Land Where The Pizza Costs Twice As Much As Three Streets Back. Or: HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU!? I DO NOT WANT A KEYCHAIN!!! It was a bubbly place though, with a nice feel to it.



The view from the top of the Spanish Steps. Mum and I had practically run from Piazza San Pietro to get there, because we had to be back for the tour to start up, so we hauled ourselves up to the top and let the cool breeze blow the sweat away. Unfortunately (and this was to happen a lot) they were doing some work on the steps, so a huge crane was parked out the front. I love this picture though.



Ah, the lovely gondolas. You wouldn't get me in one, ta, but they're beautiful to look at, bobbing merrily away. The gondoliers have some major skill, I tell you - they practically do cartwheels along the things, and there isn't the slightest chance that they'll fall into the water.



When we were told who this house belonged to, the rest of the folks on the boat who turned their camera to it must have been thinking, oh, that's interesting. Me? All I thought was OH!MY!GOSH!SQUEE!DAVID TENNANT! This was Casanova's house!



The Leaning Tower of Pisa. I tell you, pictures just don't do the lean justice. It is so WEIRD to look at. I have a picture of the base, if anybody's interested, that shows exactly how far one side has dipped into the earth. Unfortunately, this was the pick-pocketing world's international headquarters, so it was a little stressful. You might as well have been in South Africa, for how many illegal immigrants there were. This was another unusual aspect of being in Europe, especially Italy. There are so many illegal immigrants, the police just can't do anything about it - I saw many a chase. You sort of feel sorry for them and you sort of feel annoyed at them, all at once. It's a shame, because you just have to be rude to get them off your tail - one bloke followed me about one hundred meters, trying to sell me a bag.



Lucerne from a distance. It was incredibly beautiful there. I got up early one morning and had the entire Chapel Bridge to myself; just me, the swans, the lovely chilly air and the sunrise making the lake sparkle.



A mountain peak that I don't know the name of - it was taken just outside Lucerne.







The view from 3,238 meters in the Swiss Alps! We went to the top of Mt Titlis and I saw the first snow of my life. It was wet and cold (which didn't surprise me) but that didn't stop me touching it, even without mittens. My first snow! Unfortunately, mum was quite sick this day, so we didn't stay up there long, but golly was it beautiful.



No, I really don't want a keychain! Somehow, I was appointed the tour guide for the group's little evening jaunt to the Eiffel Tower. Which was both heartwarming and stressful, because they all just stood in front of me and waited for me to figure out which trains we needed to take. We went in the evening, so there were hardly any queues. I could have stayed up there for the rest of my life, but everybody else was cold, so we came down rather quickly. However, just as we were coming down:



You can't tell from the picture, but not only is it lit up, it actually sparkles, like twinkling Christmas lights. It was incredibly beautiful.



The view from the Tower. On the horizon, you can just see Sacre-Coeur.



I'm not sure why, but I really like this picture. It was taken from behind the glass at the almost-top of the Eiffel Tower - a simple set of stairs, after the numerous fancy lifts, was all that one took to get to the very top, where one could photograph through wire.



I really loved the layout of Paris, everything seemed to be in a line. I'm probably wrong, of course. Mum and I caught the train to Notre Dame de Paris, then walked and walked, taking in the Palais du Louvre. The Louvre was CLOSED! CLOSED! I nearly wept. I'm not an academic art fan, just an ignorant one, but I was quite upset. We managed to sneak a peak through a big window and it looked INCREDIBLE! Then we walked and walked, all the way down the Champs Elysees to:



l'Arc de Triomphe. Let me tell you, the traffic here is like the traffic in Rome, only on a deadly concoction of herion, cocaine and speed. It's incredible. This picture doesn't capture that, but mere seconds later the guy on the bike turned around and gave someone the finger. In Rome, one of the hardest things for a tourist to learn is that the ONLY way they're getting across the bloody street is by putting their brave face on, stepping out and downright DEMANDING through sheer force of presense, that the cars stop for them. This? You'd be dead.





The Shakespeare Globe Theatre. I was so excited to be here, you can't even believe. I'm a closet Shakespeare nut. Though, all I could think was "SQUEEEE! DOCTOR WHO! DAVID TENNANT!" When the guide mentioned Doctor Who, I let out an awful NEEP of glee. We were really lucky, because King Lear was nearing its opening performance, so they were doing a technical rehearsal, but were on a lunch break. When they're rehearsing, you can't take photos - the first half of our time we got to happily snap away, the second half, we got to watch them rehearse. Sadly, the first show was on the day we left London.



The lovely Hyde Park. Wow, do the English love their dogs! It was beautiful nonetheless, and it was right next to our hotel. It's a funny feeling, standing in the quiet calm, knowing the hustle and bustle is just nearby.



An inquisitive friend. They weren't afraid of humans at all! Dogs, yes. This one was was scooting about the grounds of Kensington Palace. Kensington Palace was really interesting, but I do wish the world would let Diana actually rest in peace.



On the other side of the park from our hotel, the very round Royal Albert Hall. I had a little sniffle, thinking about the Concert For George.



The Mitre. Aka: The Pub That Made Me Happy. It serves the BEST mushroom omelette this side of the galaxy and they weren't even magic ones. Simply yummy, I long for it.



Ok, ok, I know I'm not really in any of these photos. Mostly because I'm shy, but also because mum threatened to kill me if I put a picture of her on the net, and most of the ones with me in them have her in them. So, me, taken by mum as a test of the memory card. No, I don't want to talk about it. *g* Except to say that my hair is normally much lighter - my hair changes colour depending on how much sun it gets. My eyes are also not brown, but blue.



Cardiff Market. I swear by all that is holy (that is, all that is Who!) that I shall one day call this place home - not the market, as such, but Cardiff. My love for it knows no bounds. My love for the delicious vegetable pie that I found in a coffee shop there also knows no bounds. There's something incredible about Cardiff, absolutely indredible.



The castle is right in the middle of the city, and there isn't any crazy fanfare about it, it's just there. It's well looked after, don't get me wrong. It's a part of the city, which the locals walk around and live with, not like some of the others spots we visited where everything was tourists and money-wanting. This is the Clock Tower. On the outside wall, each section has a different animal in stone built onto the top - the bloke who did the castle up for the Bute family was animal obsessed. There are lions and beavers and bears and so many things.



The Keep, situated inside the castle, which was built around it at a later date. I climbed it, and boy! Those steps were steep.



The lovely Edinburgh, taken from behind the battlements of Edinburgh Castle. The courtyard had the beginnings of the seats for the Military Tattoo, so we didn't take pictures of that - metal everywhere. The castle was incredible, looming over the city. The main shopping street, Princes Street, has building on one side and then no buildings on the left, so that as you walk along, you can see the castle. Edinburgh's quite hilly, so the left side is high up.

WHAT YOU'VE BEEN WAITING FOR: DOCTOR WHO.





It's fair to say that my heart beat dangerously fast as I stood here, and I'm not really a Torchwood fan. The simple fact that the TARDIS had landed there was enough for me. It's a very trippy mirror.





Apart from being Who-related, the Wales Millunnium Centre was very, very beautiful. A band were playing in the foyer and I ended up buying their cd - some sort of classical. It's a lot smaller than I imagined it to be, but still rather large all the same, especially on the inside.



I'll admit - I looked for the stone to the lift like a girl possessed - along with a few others. It was sort of funny - we all knew what we were doing, and with kind of embarrassed you too? smiles, we went on with our search. Anybody see anything? Anybody? Bueller? Also - the legs at the top of the photo - do they look like the Ninth Doctor's, or is that just me?



St David's Hotel & Spa, which is a VERY swanky place. This place always pops up in the confidentials and in montages - can anybody tell me - does David stay here? I get confused - this place always pops up right before it cuts to him doing his video diary. Anybody know?











I nearly fainted when I walked into the exhibition and saw this. Nearly. Fainted. Nearly. Died. My neep of glee is something my mum won't let me forget. I touched his shoes! I touched his trousers! My gosh, David has skinny legs.







You don't even want to know what kind of noises I made upon seeing this. I'm not sure why, but seeing the Ninth Doctor's clothes was much more emotional for me - perhaps because we haven't seen it so much for a while.









Rose. My beloved Rose. I didn't think the first outfit (the early ones, from 'Rose' the episode) were the best choice for an exhibition, because they're demonstrative of her beginnings, not what she became, but still; ROSE!





The lovely Martha Jones. The jacket really is a very pretty colour.



This picture was taken at great risk. Behind it was a telly playing the Rose-loses-her-grip-on-the-lever/Doomsday-scene. I had to flee the exhibition, nearly in tears.



This is Howells, the shop that became the one Rose worked in. I have to admit that I walked past it several times without realizing. It was right down the street from our hotel. Right down the street!

Well, there we have it! If anybody wants a picture, particularly the Doctor Who ones, in a larger size, just give me a yell.

It's hard to come home from a holiday and then summarize everything in one go; I'm sure you know how it is. Stories will probably leak out of this journal over the coming months.

All I can say is that I missed you all so very much!

As an aside - I've been invited to a Traffic Light Party. I want to find a cardboard box, put it in the corner of a dark room and then crawl inside it. For those of you who don't know, a traffic light party, or at least the one we're going to, is very simple:

Singles wear green.
Those who are in a state of flux wear yellow.
Those who are taken wear red.

I want to hunt down the person who thought of this and kill them.

Does anybody have a cardboard box?